The gangly, intimidating 6-foot-11 power forward with a loud scream. Raw at the age of eighteen, yet better than others ten or fifteen years his senior. A basketball player from Farragut Career Academy, but not just a basketball player...

He's also the most vivid example of passion that the world of American sports has ever seen.

At age 27, Kevin Garnett was awarded the NBA MVP award, along with carrying the Timberwolves to a Western Conference Finals appearance. Garnett had long been established as Minnesota's icon, albeit on a basketball team that was probably farthest from that description itself. Playing for the Minnesota Timberwolves is a less-than-glorious profession, ever since the franchise was created in 1989. The likes of Pooh Richardson and Isaiah Rider were the best names in the early years, and ask a basketball fan of the 2000s who those guys are, the majority can't answer.

A splash of abysmality and a pinch of mediocrity span the first six seasons of Minnesota professional basketball. Enter the 1995 National Basketball Association Draft.

Joe Smith to Cleveland, Antonio McDyess to the Nuggets, Jerry Stackhouse to the Sixers, Rasheed Wallace to the Bullets, and then a kid to the Timberwolves.

Who is Kevin Garnett?

Garnett was the kid who was really a man. Garnett dominated both ends of the floor. Garnett made sure EVERYONE knew he was in the building. Garnett was KG. Garnett was The Big Ticket. Garnett loved basketball. Garnett loved Minnesota, and Minnesota loved him.

Garnett was traded to the Boston Celtics.

His jersey was burned by fans. He won a championship playing in Boston for six years, while Minnesota won an average of 22 games per season during that time period. He was now getting old.

The Big Ticket was traded to Brooklyn. The Brooklyn Nets trainwrecked. The Timberwolves saw opportunity. Not to win games... but to come home.

In February 2015, Garnett was traded to Minnesota.

Target Center was alive once more, a state of being that had been absent realistically since that banner year in 2003-04. Garnett was old, but he was home.

He didn't have to touch the floor with those size 15 shoes to make a difference. His successor and protegé Karl-Anthony Towns is the new-age model of Garnett; Towns says he's learned countless lessons in just one year with KG.

Best of all, he finished at home. Minnesota is a sucker for these things; it's a direct result of less-than-good sports teams. We need a feel-good nostalgia to cover our stink. Torii Hunter did it, Tyus Jones has done it. But Garnett did it best. His legacy as a basketball star is at the top—but as a player myself who prides himself on support and teammates and love and passion, I can't help but recognize and admire all that Garnett means to Minnesota, the NBA, the United States of America and people who are crazy fired up about what they do.

Whatever Garnett chooses to do now that he's moved on from playing basketball, I know he will never lose two things: his ability to drain the 18-foot jump shot and the passion he has for life.

Maybe you'll run into him on Lake Minnetonka. Or on the sidelines of the Target Center. May the most beloved athlete in Minnesota live with that endless drive for more. I hear a ferocious roar in the distance...