There is no such thing as a free punch. You take your aggressions out on a fire-extinguisher case, you'll be called a "Glass Hole" by a New York Daily News headline writer and see the target of your jab score its own Twitter account.

It is the reality of the breathless, multi-layered media world we live in and Amar'e Stoudemire knows it. Even though the New York Knicks forward was practicing Friday with a heavily taped hand and hopes to play in Game4 of their NBA playoff series against against Miami, many say the damage is done. His legacy has been defined.

I disagree.

His decision to sucker-punch a glass case after losing to the Heat on Monday night was frustration, not selfishness. It was instinct, not premeditation. He screwed up. This is a man on a 29-year journey for inner peace who saw it slipping away again.

He made a mistake. It shouldn't define him.

When I reflect on Stoudemire, I will think not of the punch but of the person he has become since being drafted by the Suns a decade ago, of the man many expected to fizzle in the high school-to-NBA experiment who last season was treated to MVP chants in New York.

The sports world is full of tales about athletes overcoming hardship, but few are as poignant as Stoudemire's, and few have unfolded so personally, with so much powerful detail.

We picked up his tale in 2002 when the Suns drafted him ninth overall. It was a good marriage.

Jerry Colangelo was an owner who cared about players and their backgrounds. He felt confident he could surround Stoudemire with people that could guide him and wisely enlisted the classy Mark West, a former player, as a mentor.

Stoudemire's past has been well-documented. He has fond memories of his early childhood in Lake Wales, Fla., but times became hard when his father, Hazell, died of a heart attack when Stoudemire was 12. His mother, Carrie, was in and out of jail more than two dozen times. Many of her choices, Stoudemire said, were an attempt to find ways to support her children.

Basketball was his refuge, but his skills also attracted those looking to capitalize on his talents. He played for six high schools.

He had all the ingredients to implode, but through the Suns' guidance and Stoudemire's ability to push back negative influences, he persevered.

Make no mistake. Even during his Rookie of the Year run and subsequent All-Star seasons, it wasn't always a smooth ride. When the Suns needed leadership, he didn't know about to summon it. He had seen few successful examples of that in his life. He could be both moody and utterly impossible to read, the product of a complicated youth. It can be tough to manage your emotions when you have a front-row seat of others' inability to do so.

Even during his moments of frustration with Stoudemire, coach Mike D'Antoni always would couch his comments with, "but he's a good guy."

In his final season with the Suns, and in his career with New York, the arrested adolescent started figuring it out.

He thrived in a market that loves to eat its prey. He spoke of his love of New York and became a leader, a big-time scorer and a rebounder. He played through pain and sacrificed his game when Carmelo Anthony arrived.

He tried to better himself. He went back to school, traveled to the Middle East. He was turning into the person he dreamed he could become. Even his mother was turning the corner. She confirmed Friday she is running a street ministry in Phoenix.

Not that heartache has totally evaded him.

During June 2009, before his final season with the Suns, Stoudemire choked up during the sentencing in Maricopa County Superior Court of his half-brother, Marwan Williams, for conspiracy to commit armed robbery.

"I was his father figure," Stoudemire said. "I used to read him bedtime stories." Stoudemire suggested he felt guilty because when he went to the NBA, the father figure was gone.

In February, his older brother, Hazell Jr., who was out after many years in prison, died in a car accident in Florida.

And now here Stoudemire is, Public Enemy No.1 (just like his jersey number) dealing with the Heat, who lead this series 3-0.

It is not a great time for the Knicks. Stoudemire and Anthony, who was traded to the team in February 2011, are not a great on-court fit. Their games don't mesh. Knicks fans are understandably frustrated and feel the team is handcuffed. Stoudemire's contract makes him practically untradeable.

It's a difficult time.

One that could inspire someone to punch a glass case.

Stupid, stupid decision.

But career-defining? I beg to differ.

Reach Boivin at paola.boivin@arizonarepublic.com and follow her on Twitter at Twitter.com/paolaboivin.