I would play like one minute or not even get in at all. I'd see on Twitter - people would say, 'I hate that Grayson Allen guy at the end of the bench.' I'm like, 'What did I do?! I was in the game for 30 seconds.'
I think the aggressive and loud way that I played in the championship game is kind of polarizing; you either love it or you hate it.
Something like missing a shot, and the next play you're thinking about it, or you give up a play on defense and you're thinking about it, you're frustrated about it, what's happening is that you're really thinking about yourself. You're not connected to the team. And you have to be connected, or those few plays add up.
I don't feel a need to prove anything or rewrite my legacy.
I'd rather have most of my life private. So, what you do see in me is on the court, and on the court, I am competitive. I'm an irritant to the other team. Emotional. Fired up. And so that's what people see, and that's what they judge off of.
I'm very appreciative to have the parents that I do have.
I'm confident about going out there and playing - playing with emotion, screaming and yelling.
I'm focused on the good things and that makes you really appreciate what you are doing with the team and the time you are out there on the court.
You think the end of my freshman year, from nobody really knowing who I was to skyrocketing onto the scene in the national championship game, there's nothing but good things to say after that. Then you get into the spotlight and it turns to hate.
If you watch college basketball growing up, you picture yourself in that moment, you picture yourself playing in the Final Four on a huge stage.
Duke has had many lightning rods over the years, it's a long list of 'em, a long list of white Duke basketball players that have been lightning rods. I didn't fully understand it before I came to Duke, but obviously I do now.
I think I'm a focal point for everyone. It's obvious that all the fans are watching every move that I make, and so why wouldn't the refs?
