Matthew Dellavedova has a reputation

A reputation exists in different phases simultaneously. It can be fluid and impossible to contain. Sometimes, it becomes rigidly solid, subjectivity held as irrefutable fact. Even if shared by many, it is still innately personal.

For instance, I believed Matthew Dellavedova would be shorter.

The mythos of Dellavedova — the journey from undrafted free agent to postseason wild card — seems built upon being the consummate underdog; he’s supposed to rely on internal fortitude rather than physical supremacy. But that foundation seems less likely when every inch of his 6-4 frame stands tensed before me.

I’ve just asked him a question that he seems genuinely unable to answer. Among the more prominent personalities that drive the Cleveland Cavaliers’ pursuit of a championship, I had assumed that Dellavedova’s role would be easiest to break down through a simple line of questioning. Instead, an interview that was going smoothly has come to an awkward pause.

Background noises rise to cacophonous levels. He scratches at his haphazardly stubbled face. Capillaries burst across it like cracks widening in a dried riverbed. This happens within the uncomfortable span of mere seconds.

Regaining his composure, Dellavedova squints at me and follows up my question with one of his own. “What reputation?”

The tables have turned rather abruptly and now I’m the one struggling to come up with a response.

The bar is one of many along Atlanta’s famed Peachtree Street, an Irish-style pub that’s more about daily drink specials than it is about tradition. It’s late May and seating is scarce among the newly minted Hawks fans enjoying the team’s improbable playoff race. Crisp replica jerseys bear names like “HORFORD” and “KORVER”. Special care is given to avoid spilling buffalo sauce on the team’s logo.

Atlanta is losing by double digits when their best shooter begins limping noticeably. The bar patrons look up from their quesadillas in time to see a replay of a Cleveland player dive to the floor to recover a loose ball, cannonballing into Kyle Korver’s ankle in the process. “That little bastard,” mutters one fan as others moan in protest.

Kover’s season is over and, in less than a week, his teammates will join him. The Cavaliers advance to the NBA Finals for just the second time in franchise history.

Aggressive play is the prism through which Dellavedova is often viewed, a career refracted into a spectrum of opinion. He’s equal parts working-class hero and cheap-shot artist, gritty throwback and an overhyped thug. Your view on Dellavedova often says more about you than it does him.

He is polarizing in a way usually reserved for the game’s elite players, hardly indicative of his role as a backup guard. Some believe he is absolutely dangerous. A Los Angeles Times article from earlier this year published the results of a poll of “NBA coaches, assistants, and players” to determine who was the league’s dirtiest player. Dellavedova was pegged by a wide margin.

The story made for great headlines and was aggregated by nearly every reporting bureau with basketball in its purview. It was certainly bolstered by a number of past incidents that involved opposing players such as Chicago’s Taj Gibson, as well as Atlanta’s Korver and teammate Al Horford.

Buried deep in the narrative, however, was that the poll was only answered by a total of 24 people, a fraction of potential respondents.

Still, the idea of Dellavedova as dirty was enhanced, adding new colors to the palette of perception. Despite the small sample, the survey results indicate at least some NBA players and coaches consider him to be needlessly aggressive. But the Times report did include contradictory assessments of Dellavedova, with one coach claiming that “he just plays hard” while another said it’s more “goofy” than intentional.

The team that employed those who participated in the survey undoubtedly helped shape the response. Among his teammates he’s widely appreciated for his efforts. Cavaliers head coach Tyronn Lue has said of Dellavedova, “Those are the types of guys you need to win,” strong support from a man who coaches LeBron James, Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love. Ask fans of 29 other franchises, and they’ll likely want Dellavedova (or someone just like him) to play for the team they follow.

The curtain has been pulled back to reveal that malleable judgement and not firm conviction is the basis of how Dellavedova is perceived.

The setting sun has melted into the horizon, burning brightly before darkness coincides with a Game 3 loss. The Golden State Warriors had been unstoppable all season long and a championship had seemed virtually guaranteed against a Cleveland team that was missing two of its three best players.

But the Cavaliers now had a 2-1 advantage and doubt was starting to set in. Steph Curry, the league’s Most Valuable Player, had been reduced to a shell of his electrifying self. He’d set an NBA record for missed three-pointers in a Game 2 loss, with all eight of his attempts falling short. While defense is largely a team effort, one particular player had stood out above the rest, blowing up pick-and-roll connections with reckless abandon. As fans left watch parties across the Bay area, one question seemed to fuel the growing levels of concern among the Warriors faithful.

“Who the hell is Matthew Dellavedova???”

When asked about Dellavedova’s reputation for dirtiness before a recent matchup against the Cavaliers, Orlando Magic head coach Scott Skiles benignly answered, “I don’t look at him like that. I think he plays hard, he’s tough, he makes open threes, and I think he’s a good, solid player.”

It’s a fair response and one that focuses mostly on Dellavedova’s on-court ability, rarely the case when judging his impact. He’s greatly improved his shooting, currently ranking 12th in the league in three-point field goal percentage at nearly 42 percent. It’s a strength that seems largely unheralded.

To his credit, Dellavedova showed little interest about how this aspect has been ignored — “I mean, I wouldn’t know if it’s under the radar, or over the radar or anything” — but acknowledges that there has been growth, saying, “I feel like I’ve improved my shooting from my rookie year, to second year, to this one so…just [have to] keep getting better off the move, off the dribble, as well as catch-and-shoot.”

As he noted, Dellavedova has steadily improved his long-range shooting, making the impressive leap from just 36.8 percent his rookie year to 40.7 during last season. It’s the kind of slow, determined progression that adds to Dellavedova’s lore and his decidedly blue-collar charm.

But even this obscures a rather productive collegiate career, as the undrafted free agent that scrapped his way to prominence actually finished a stint at St. Mary’s as the team’s all-time leader in points, assists and games played.

The narrative bends according to where you lie on the spectrum. Fans point to his consistent growth as proof of his greatness while critics denounce his accomplishments as the mere byproduct of a more balanced and talented Cleveland roster.

The truth probably lies somewhere in between but the improvement is nonetheless evident, in both his shooting and his ball handling, once a major sore spot among even his most ardent supporters. Playing over 25 minutes per game — and with the occasional opportunity to start in Irving’s absence — Dellavedova now ranks among the top-15 NBA players in assist-to-turnover ratio.

Increased opportunity and the subsequent comfort level — “You get to know the offense well and what your teammates like and where they like the ball…it’s about chemistry and plays within plays” — has made Dellavedova into an effective player.

If a breakout ever did happen for Dellavedova, it was likely his performance in the last postseason. But there’s a strong belief that mere efficiency won’t be enough, that he’ll need to reproduce, if not surpass, his success from last year’s postseason over the coming weeks.

He might be Cleveland’s biggest x-factor, the player that can change a series by defending at a high level or knocking down a clutch shot and not by rolling into an opponent’s leg at just the right time.

It’s a mild summer in Cleveland. The Finals loss, still fresh for so many, aches but the pain is a little duller with each passing day. You try to put it behind you and move on as best you can. But basketball is still prominent in this quiet, suburban neighborhood. Orange rims are as much a part of the landscaping as any flower, and the concrete driveway is the garden from which imaginations grow.

As families begin to settle into their evening plans, a tussle-haired boy bounces a ball with dogged determination; the flat thud of rubber on pavement is the only sound he hears. He stands at the edge of the makeshift court, counting down in his head the way he has dozens of times before and coils into his release. The shot hangs for an eternity before finally caroming off the rim. He watches as the ball dribbles toward bright, green grass and begins to run, diving at just the last second to save it from sailing “out of bounds” and manages to make the perfect pass to an imaginary teammate.

The boy slides across the lawn and feels a sharp pain across his elbow, noticing a growing red spot where skin had not quite healed from a similar injury last week. He turns his arm away to make sure blood never falls on his bright yellow jersey — it was bad enough that the number “8” had already started to peel along the corners from too much wear. The elbow didn’t hurt that much, he told himself, and it was a game-saving play, after all. He picked up his ball and looked proudly at his newest battle scar. “I can’t wait to show Mom,” he thought, and a smile broke out across his face as he raced inside.

Whether you perceive Dellavedova as too dirty or overhyped, the reality is that he is merely a man and one that has made the difficult climb to success at the NBA level. Every player — from generational phenoms like James to the 15th man on the bench — has found a way to beat the odds. That Dellavedova’s path was not as direct nor as immediately successful should be widely appreciated.

Beyond the tenacity that has made him an icon in the city of Cleveland and his native Australia, there’s also a humanity to Dellavedova that’s often ignored. A cursory search via social media reveals images of him around his adopted home. His appreciation straddles a line that cuts clearly between a racial divide but he’s mostly embraced by a community that values great work ethic.

He appears to be a favorite among children — perhaps it’s his youthful appearance that belies his rugged approach to a game but maybe it’s because he’s child-like himself. At 25, he’s one of the youngest members of the veteran-laden Cavaliers and he also enjoys, like so many millions of others, the Harry Potter series of books. He beamed when I brought them up and gave it serious thought when I asked which was his favorite — it’s The Goblet of Fire — and he’s clearly a big fan.

All of which makes my answer to his question so difficult to give. Players are often viewed so superficially that the levels to their personality are often ignored for easily digested narratives. Still, it’s the lens of dirty play that obscures how Dellavedova is seen by so many and I chose the easiest way out.

“Your reputation as a dirty player,” I said.

The measured response that followed was as uncomfortable as the instant preceding it, as Dellavedova slowly muttered, “I don’t think that’s the reputation I have.”

His delivery had me questioning if it he simply lacked self-awareness. But his follow-up left me with the impression that he understands, better than most, that there is more to him beyond a survey answered by only 24 people.

“It’s just one B.S. article,” he added matter-of-factly. “That’s the answer to that.”

Dellavedova looked to the far wall and stared intently at a clock; there was just a short amount of time left before tip-off that evening. He gathered his shoes abruptly in his hands to signal the end of the interview, turned and a man considered both dangerous and heroic walked toward the locker room doors, shoelaces dangling at his knees.