And once again, much like his brief-but-much-discussed stretch with the Knicks, the circumstances were such that the world seemed to be tilted against him. To appreciate the irony, though, it makes sense to retrace Chris’s steps.

The overwhelming consensus was that the decision to retain Smith, even over a fringe talent like Ike Diogu, was downright shady. I was one of the loudest, most bile-infused dispensers of snark.

“We’ve been hearing the nepotism chatter for awhile now, and yes, it does smack of all the stupid, incestuous ways in which this so-called pro franchise has functioned for going on a decade plus,” I wrote. “It also confirms all the paranoid musings about ‘CAA running the team’ and/or Dolan having some kind of under-the-table deal with the Smith clan in exchange for one of the two semi-favorable contracts that favorite son J.R. has signed over the past two offseasons.”

The explanation that was given from then-head coach Mike Woodson only served to confirm everyone’s worst suspicions: “I look at him just like I look at J.R. … I have a great deal of respect for that family.”

Then there was J.R.’s much-publicized Twitter beef with Brandon Jennings in defense of his brother, followed hard upon by a not-at-all cryptic tweet after Chris’ release about “betrayal.” After the dust had cleared, Chris Smith stopped being a person — he was a cudgel to get angry at, laugh at, or with which to otherwise bludgeon the Knicks’ ineptitude.

No, his brief stints in both the Las Vegas Summer League and in training camp didn’t result in the kind of numbers that screamed “keeper,” but Smith was placed in a near-impossible situation where, regardless of whether all of the above allegations were true or not, it didn’t really matter. He never had a chance, and he found himself condemned and/or mocked for the actions of others, so close to his dream of playing pro ball, yet damned by circumstances that were more or less entirely outside of his control.

When we spoke, after covering numerous topics, the conversation naturally turned to the Knicks — because it had to. There was no resentment or anger at my questions, but rather a quiet confidence in his abilities and, surprisingly, considering the media gauntlet he’s been through, a great deal of humility and self-awareness.

“I would have liked to have had the opportunity to show what I can do. Other than that, I can’t really complain,” Smith said. “I mean, I wore an NBA jersey. I played a minute and 30 seconds. That’s what it was, that’s what it is. I can’t go back and change the time. I can’t change anybody’s mind about Chris Smith.”

With regards to J.R.’s accusations of betrayal, he explained:

“My brother was upset because he knows I was working hard. He knows how hard I worked for that opportunity. You know, to even be on the team. He knows that it wasn’t because of him that I was signed on the team.”

Chris did say that he felt that he was “physically better” than some of his fellow ‘Bockers, a suspect assertion, to be sure, but that’s the kind of answer that any athlete’s going to give. The competition is so grueling that a smidgen of doubt, whether you’re talking to yourself or a reporter, is an absolute death sentence. To be fair, he also added, “they had more years of experience, so I don’t expect them [the Knicks] to just, you know, hand me something.”

As the conversation continued, I found myself siding with Smith. I believed him, or maybe I wanted to believe him. Because the alternative—that a crappy team left him to fend for himself in the midst of a media firestorm and then tossed him to the wayside (or as Woodson would say, kicked him to the curb) once he’d outlived his usefulness—is far less pleasant to acknowledge.