John Feinstein is an author and a contributor to The Post. His most recent book is “The Legends Club — Dean Smith, Mike Krzyzewski, Jim Valvano and an Epic Basketball Rivalry.”

Steve Kerr, coach of the NBA’s Golden State Warriors, doesn’t tweet that often, although he did tweet the other day that he had just subscribed to The Post, “because facts matter.”

More often, he lets people know where he stands via retweets, such as a recent one from Keith Boykin that said, “Wonder what happened to that guy?” Below was this tweet from then-Indiana Gov. Mike Pence: “Calls to ban Muslims from entering the U.S. are offensive and unconstitutional.”

Kerr also retweeted a chart showing how many Americans had been killed in an average year over the past decade. It made the point that the minuscule number killed by “Islamic jihadist immigrants” was exceeded by deaths from right-wing terrorists, armed toddlers and lawn mowers — and were thousands of times less likely to occur than fatal shootings by other Americans.

Kerr’s positions, notably his gun-control position, aren’t just unusual in jock world — they are remarkable because his background is tragically unique. Kerr was born in Beirut. His father, Malcolm Kerr, was president of the American University in Beirut. Steve grew up in Beirut, Cairo and Los Angeles.

On Jan. 18, 1984, Malcolm Kerr was assassinated — shot twice in the back of the head — in an attack for which Islamic Jihad, an affiliate of Hezbollah, claimed responsibility. Steve was an 18-year-old freshman at the University of Arizona when his father was killed. Not only does he understand the Middle East and terrorism in ways few Americans can, but also he and his family were victims of Muslim terrorists.

And yet Kerr was one of the first public figures in professional sports to speak out against President Trump’s immigration policies — the chart showing the murder statistics was part of that. Kerr also spoke up in defense of San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick when he protested police shootings of African Americans by first refusing to stand up and, later, kneeling during the pre-game playing of the national anthem.

“If it’s nonviolent and it leads to conversation, then I think that’s a good thing,” Kerr said in September. He added: “No matter what side of the spectrum you’re on, I would hope every American is disgusted with what’s going on in this country, what just happened two days ago with Terence Crutcher.”

Crutcher was a 40-year-old African American who, unarmed with his hands up in the air, was shot on a highway by police in Tulsa.

I’ve known Kerr since he was a college sophomore. From the first time I spoke to him, it was apparent he was not an athlete likely to fill the air with such cliches as, “I just want to step up and give 110 percent.” For one thing, Kerr knew that there’s no such thing as giving 110 percent. And he knew a lot more about the Middle East than most people — myself included.

His story, even if limited to the context of basketball, is remarkable. He was virtually unrecruited coming out of high school and landed at Arizona in the summer of 1983 only because new coach Lute Olson, taking over a downtrodden program, was desperate for players.

When Olson first saw Kerr play and pointed him out to his wife, Bobbi, as a potential recruit, her response was: “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kerr always liked to say he had deceptive speed: “When people first see me they think I’m a step slow. In truth, I’m two steps slow.”

But he could shoot — oh, could he shoot. He became a star at Arizona and then played 15 years in the NBA — about 15 years longer than he expected — playing on five NBA championship teams. He retired as the league’s all-time leader in three-point shooting percentage, making 45 percent of them. In 1997, with the NBA title at stake, Michael Jordan found him open on the wing and he made the shot to clinch the title.

Not bad for two steps slow.

Now, Kerr is the coach of an NBA juggernaut: The Warriors won the NBA title in 2015 (his first season); set a record for regular-season victories last season before losing the NBA finals in seven games to LeBron James and the Cleveland Cavaliers; and have the league’s best record this season.

Kerr knows he has a platform, and he has used it regularly, regardless of any backlash that may come with it. Last summer he called the government’s current gun laws “insane.”

Recently, more athletes have been speaking up on political issues, a change from the old days when the only political issue that mattered to 99 percent of them was which candidate was most likely to lower their taxes.

Few — if any — can bring Kerr’s background or his knowledge and understanding of the issues to the table. Kerr was an amazing player, and he’s a wonderful coach. But the man is far more extraordinary than the player or the coach.