Chapter 6. Who is James Harden?

Outside of the Foot Locker campaign, Harden’s dry wit and sense of humor are almost never on display for the public. He rarely gives one-on-one interviews. He speaks in soft tones, only occasionally making eye contact. He is unfailingly polite.

He keeps his inner circle purposefully small. The closest people in his life have known him since he was a teenager. Harden has developed and maintained a strong connection with the men who have coached him on each level of basketball. He exchanges occasional texts with Coach K, who watches as many Rockets games as he can on League Pass.

"We keep in touch, but I never want to be intrusive," Coach K says, "but we have a great relationship."

Pera, his former high school coach, has texted "good luck" to Harden before every pro game he’s ever played. After taking an assistant coach position at nearby Rice University this season, the two have lunch about once a month.

On a recent Sunday, Harden dropped by Pera’s house for barbecue and to watch his beloved 49ers. Harden spends most of his downtime playing FIFA 15 (he uses Real Madrid) with his housemate and former Artesia High teammate Greg Howell, who coaches eighth-grade basketball in Houston. Sometimes they’ll head to Toyota Center for late-night shooting sessions.

While his beard has become arguably the most identifying physical feature of any American pro athlete, he doesn’t want to be defined by it. Nor is he hiding behind it. "This is really who I am," Harden insists.

"But a lot of people may see me and not know my name but know the beard. It's kind of my style, my swag. It's me being different, which I am. But I don't go out of my way to be different. I'm a fun guy. I've got a Mohawk with a beard and I dress funky and I'm left-handed, but it's just the package."

But it remains the first thing people see. And, oh, there are questions. Before you ask: It doesn’t itch as much as people think. He gets it trimmed with each haircut, about every two weeks. When he wakes up it’s usually mashed to one side. One of his picks cures that easily. It can sometimes be a magnet for food. People tell him to cut it every day, mostly in other cities. His mom adores it.

"She raised me," says Harden. "So she loves everything about me."

There is little doubt Harden’s popularity would pale in comparison without it. "He’s much more than the beard," says Berger, the Foot Locker exec, "but obviously it’s helped shape his identity to the public."

He was clean-shaven at ASU, but Sendek doesn’t remember what he looked like. Pera fondly remembers the days of peach fuzz, baggy sweats, triple-XL white T-shirts, ninth-grade English and the quiet kid who needed rides all over town.

"He’s a grown man," he says, "but I still worry about him. I worry about him every day."

Chapter 7. Show-N-Prove

Harden hoists one jumper after another at a recent shootaround the morning before a game at Toyota Center. He is the last player on the floor. His eyes are intense, his release crisp. An assistant coach will stop feeding him only when he says so. The nets pop. He grunts when the ball touches rim. The squeak of his sneakers pierces the air.

The echo of the basketball off the hardwood is the soundtrack to his life.

"LeBron and KD are at the peak right now," he says. "They are the guys. I know what I want, but I have to win over a lot of people. I've got my work cut out for me." There are no awards for being an MVP candidate in mid-December.

There is no comfort in being the man. He asked for this. For James Harden, there is no turning back.