It was one of the ugliest off-court moments in recent NBA history. After finding Derrick Rose not liable for the alleged gang rape of his former girlfriend in 2016, jurors took photos with the former league MVP outside the Los Angeles courthouse.

Rose, the long-time Chicago Bull, was free to begin his career with the New York Knicks as a simple basketball player, a former superstar ravaged by injuries and trying to reach his former heights after repeated recoveries from his seemingly forlorn fortune kept away. This is a story that we as sports fans have seen before and we inherently understand. He would not have to face the annoying distractions of an ongoing trial or the unseemly stain that a different verdict would have caused. The verdict made it easier to forget about the case and focus on your career, if you were so inclined.

Rose played another eight seasons in the NBA, a noble professional career that he officially ended Thursday when he announced his retirement. After a difficult few years trying to revive his early brilliance, he became a valuable deep watcher and experienced mentor. Rose’s path, solely on the court, is similar to that of Vince Carter, who will be inducted into the Hall of Fame next month, not least because he has handled that transition better than any player ever.

It’s not that easy with Rose, is it? It shouldn’t be. Being found not liable is not the same as being found innocent. And if Rose can speak enthusiastically about how basketball was his first love and how it allowed him to grow and develop, then it’s only right that his retirement is an opportunity to remind us who he was as one of the brightest minds in the world League was stars.

And for at least a moment, it was terrible – and it showed us how bad our culture was at the same time.

Almost by definition, in a civil trial, a jury is asked to decide whether the plaintiff’s or the defendant’s version of events is more credible. Even without taking the time to delve into the history of women’s sexual histories being used against them in cases like this – and that’s an incredible excerpt – what Rose acknowledged was and remains shocking.

• Yes, he and his friends went to have sex with the woman who was Rose’s girlfriend for two years.

• Yes, Rose repeatedly sent the woman sexually explicit videos and asked her to engage in group sex, even though she refused.

• No, Rose did not understand the concept of consent.

These things are not up for debate. Surely it would be naive to think that some of these things don’t happen regularly with other athletes, celebrities and everyday people. That’s why it’s not okay to push the results of the case under the moments of a memorable and unique career on the pitch. These things actually happened; That’s what he did in this case.

The fact that it happened 11 years ago and was brought to trial eight years ago is irrelevant. Yes, Rose has had a remarkable career, leading one of the league’s top teams from a lost decade into title contention as a hometown player. It’s understandable that Rose’s fans, and especially his Chicago fans, developed a deep emotional attachment to him.

That doesn’t mean we forget the people for whom Rose’s continued presence in the league made the sport more difficult to follow. Rose’s case reminded us of the aspiration that athletes can enjoy and benefit from. Rose likely would not have been affected, but the NBA and NBPA jointly negotiated a new domestic violence, sexual violence and child abuse policy that went into effect within a year of Rose’s case being finalized. It is an imperfect policy because we live in an imperfect society, and we cannot say whether it has changed the behavior of people within the league. Of course, incidents still happen and sometimes it feels like the policy has, above all, made team building easier.

All of this complicates Rose’s retirement. It is nearly impossible to summarize what he did in court and what the trial revealed about him, but it is also irresponsible not to try. We don’t live in a world that offers us this luxury. Any attempt to separate the two is fundamentally selfish, an attempt to neatly delineate the brilliant from the brutal.

The best part of being a sports fan is discovering what people are capable of under extraordinary circumstances. It’s also the worst.

(Photo: Elsa/Getty Images)