Tyler Ulis may or may not return to Kentucky next year. But eventually he's going to be gone.

Fans should appreciate him now.

You may think you do. But you probably don't. Not enough, at least.

Because what Tyler Ulis is doing as Kentucky's point guard is probably one of the most impressive things that any fan has seen at Kentucky, and on a number of levels.

Yes, he's having one of the best seasons for any point guard probably in Kentucky's history. That is not an exaggeration. The stat sheet probably bears it out, if you were to run all the numbers and put the players in that starting "one" spot against one another.

But he's also doing a number of things that don't show up on the stat sheet.

Leadership. He's a second-year John Calipari player and that alone makes Ulis shoulder a big leadership burden. But beyond that he's the quarterback of a team that's really unique in its makeup. Given the disparate backgrounds of the players around him, some upperclassmen who had yet to step into the spotlight and others heralded freshmen with uncommon histories and varied nationalities, Ulis has needed to be the team's glue in almost every respect.

That he's on the court for nearly the entire game, every game, means he's providing constant leadership to almost every lineup combination. He's got to talk when no one else is talking, and to gather the troops when there's confusion. And he does that. Always.

Effortless perfectionism. One of the things that's really impossible to appreciate about Ulis is his consistency. It's a rare consistency. It's almost a weird consistency.

Everyone has rituals, daily habits and a certain kind of monotony to the outline of their life. Even spontaneous people are predictably spontaneous, and inconsistent people are consistently inconsistent.

Ulis is that extremely rare basketball player who is consistently good at almost all of the little things that are easy to take for granted.

More than perhaps with any other player at Kentucky in a very long time Tyler Ulis is a player that fans and John Calipari can count on, for certain, will rise to demands of that day. He may shoot better one game than the next, and his shot may go in streaks. But over two years he's found ways to produce at a high level even when his shot hasn't been great.

He's not a player who makes a mistake on the defensive end because he's kicking himself for making a mistake on the offensive end. First, because he rarely makes mistakes with the ball, and second, because the same's true on defense. He's a mentally tough perfectionist who doesn't have to try hard to be almost perfect.

Wake up, go through the morning bathroom routine and get dressed, make coffee and breakfast and head out the door. Tyler Ulis imitates the same simple routine on the basketball court every single game, with almost no mistakes.

His perfectionism is most impressive when a person - be honest with yourself here - thinks of their reaction to his real mistakes. When Ulis makes a bad pass: "What happened?" Like when an elite shooter misses a free throw. And speaking of free throws, he's pretty good at those too. Not surprising for a perfectionist.

Here's what also doesn't show up: The mistakes he doesn't make.

Most very good college basketball players have seasons like this: A few great games, a lot of good games, and a few head-scratchers they wish they could take back. Teams are like that in every sport with few exceptions. People are like that: Good days, bad days.

We evaluate players, people, workers, friends and ourselves best when we look at the big picture. Jamal Murray is having a tremendous freshman season and one of the best in UK history. He's following the outlined season above: A few great games, a lot of good games, and a few head-scratchers.

Guaranteed minutes. One of the most underrated statistics in baseball is the number of innings a starting pitcher contributes. Earned run average and strikeouts are the numbers everyone sees. But the number of innings a pitcher pitches is exceptionally important.

If a manager knows that a pitcher is going to give him seven quality innings almost every time out it can shape the way he uses his bullpen in that game and in the games around that pitcher's start. It can shape the way he manages in other respects. It keeps the pen more rested. Even if that pitcher doesn't strike out a lot of batters, even if he has an ERA that's just 'pretty good', innings pitched can make an average pitcher have a good pitcher's value. A left-hander who will give his manager 200 innings? Even if his ERA is a bit high that's a high value pitcher.

Tyler Ulis gives Kentucky guaranteed minutes even more than most great pitchers give a manager guaranteed innings. He can be counted on to play as many minutes as John Calipari needs him to play.

That didn't matter last year when he played half of the game. It was a great mystery as to how he would play logging the great majority of the minutes as the Cats' one true point guard (in what was billed as a three-point guard system). His shot wasn't falling early in the season, and so one might have wondered whether more minutes meant more fatigue and a less accurate jumper. But his shot has increasingly improved, his efficiency has remained incredibly high, turnovers are still rare, and he doesn't seem to tire.

Beyond that, he's almost never in foul trouble. For a player who pesters the ball and takes such pride in his defensive game, that's tremendous. That's a testament to his balance, court awareness and the fact that he rarely makes a mistake so significant that he panics to get back in position or prevent points.

Since Calipari knows he can play Ulis 40 minutes, even if he only plays him 35, it means he's less compelled to stretch a backcourt rotation beyond what he feels comfortable with. It means that he doesn't go as deep for as long on his bench. And in most cases no matter how good your bench is, your starters are better.

It also means that every lineup that's ever in the game has more glue to it than it otherwise would. With precious few exceptions, Ulis is always one of the five. That means players are accustomed to their roles not only on the team, but on Ulis' team. Over a season players should become more comfortable with one another and their tendencies, and they should gain a better feel for who's hot and who's not in a game's rhythm. With Ulis -- the team's most basketball-savvy player, the team's best leader, the team's point guard, and the team's most consistent figure -- every single lineup is more likely to succeed. Because Ulis can pretty much run what he wants no matter who's in the game, and who better than him to decide where the ball needs to go?

Which basketball player at Kentucky, or which Calipari player, does Tyler Ulis most resemble?

Different people will give you different answers. It's not an easy question. At all. Given his diminutive frame, his rare intangibles, his significance to the team and everything above, it's really impossible to find a point of comparison that comes remotely close to Ulis in terms of his actual style of play.

But in another sense there's an excellent comparison that may surprise you. Think outside the box for a moment and don't dismiss this right away.

Anthony Davis.

Anthony Davis was a remarkably consistent player. Game to game his shooting percentage might have been much better or much worse than his average. But even when he was ice cold (just one made field goal in the national championship) everyone in America knew that Anthony Davis was going to impact the game.

Just as Ulis' "little things" don't show up in stats-- mistakes not made, guaranteed minutes, effortless perfectionism -- Davis' "little things" didn't either.

Yes, Davis had one of the best seasons for any shot blocker in college basketball history. But the number of shots altered, game plans altered and opponent sleep hours lost to worry and preparation? Well, those don't show up.

His Bill Russell-like ability to instinctively block a shot in the smartest way possible, by tipping it to himself or a teammate and creating a possession rather than swatting it into the stands -- that doesn't show up either.

Even as a skinny guard-turned-big who was still feeling out his body and getting stronger, Davis at Kentucky was just as valuable for hidden contributions, consistency and the mistakes he didn't make as he was for any double-double count or even his gaudy shot blocking numbers. Game in, game out, John Calipari and every opposing coach knew who the best player on the court would be. And they knew, unlike with many great players, this was one who could take over a game without scoring a lot or doing it conventionally. Just like Ulis.

Just like Kentucky's 2011-12 opponents all knew (quickly, at least) that a disproportionate number of shots around the rim would be erased or altered - thus impacting their game plans - Kentucky's opponents in 2015-16 know that pressing Tyler Ulis would be a bad idea. They knew that they can't bank on the Cats' point guard making mistakes that cost Kentucky the game. He's the quarterback who does not beat himself with errant throws. But he's not the quarterback who plays not to lose, because he makes the winning plays and has gone from upstart surprise freshman to star sophomore. A star in every respect.

There's one key difference between Davis and Ulis, beyond the foot and a half that the former has on the latter.

It was easier to appreciate Davis.

It was very apparent by the end of that season that Davis was a special talent. Not just a great college player, but a potentially all-time great NBA player. Larry Brown said before the next draft that the team drafting Davis would win 50 games in his rookie season. That didn't happen, of course, but even that outlier prediction speaks to the hype at the time.

Davis was Kevin Durant, only at Kentucky on a 38-2 more-talented team that that was in the spotlight all year. Fans knew they had one year to watch him, and they knew they would tell their kids about what they remembered.

Ulis is harder to appreciate because nobody knows what kind of NBA player he will be. Nobody even knows, for sure at least, if this is his farewell tour. This team isn't 2011-12 Kentucky, and Ulis' greatness is sometimes lost in the ups and downs of this group's season.

He'll leave big shoes behind

I feel bad for De'Aaron Fox.

At least on some level.

He's going to be just fine. He will fit right into Calipari's line of ultra-talented, high-ceiling point guards.

Quarterbacks at Notre Dame, point guards at Kentucky. If you're offered one of those jobs you're offered fame and a tremendous platform to showcase yourself, but you're also offered the opportunity to be one of the nation's most scrutinized players.

Marquis Teague and Andrew Harrison could tell you something about the pressure and the scrutiny. They can probably also tell you that winning, even if you aren't quite matching the unrealistic individual hype, will cure everything and quiet most critics. But there will be critics. Always.

John Wall matched the hype in a transcendent way. Because he brought Kentucky back to relevance at the elite level nobody seems to mind too much that his team underachieved in the tournament.

Brandon Knight did face some criticism early, but he broke the Cats' Final Four drought and thus secured his place in history as a Kentucky success story.

Ryan Harrow came via an unconventional route and he was about the worst possible fit, personality-wise, for the role of point guard in Calipari's positional dynasty.

Ulis is the one Calipari point guard -- and the only one -- who has surpassed expectations in a way that is truly surprising. He has been the anti-Skal Labissiere. The exact opposite.

And that brings us to Fox.

Ulis, if he leaves after this year, will leave some big shoes. He'll leave the shoes that every Kentucky point guard has to wear these days. And those are big shoes, even if Kentucky might really be more "Big Man U" in the real world.

But he'll leave another pair of shoes that are going to be almost impossible for Fox or anyone else to adequately fill. These are the shoes that you've seen Ulis wear when he's not making the bad pass. It's not that you expect any point guard to commit a turnover at this moment or on that play. But, big picture, you do expect it to happen some. That Ulis can be counted on to not turn it over three times in 37 minutes of game action, and that he guarantees mental toughness and readiness at the most important position every single game, these are the qualities that make Ulis' shoes nearly impossible to fill.

If Fox or future Kentucky point guards turn the ball over four times in a game they might be forgiven, but fans are likely to wistfully reminisce about Ulis' steadiness in the same way that every Nerlens Noel blocked shot came with memories -- and unfortunately for him, comparisons -- to Davis.

If Ulis' successor displays poor shot selection or, heaven forbid, wilts under the pressure of a swarming full court defense, we may all finally realize how good Ulis is. How great he is. Those disappointments, that criticisms, those failures and that pressure -- they're going to happen, to whoever replaces him. Because those things always happen with college basketball point guards. Ulis' greatness is not a common greatness. It is a simplicity and a hidden greatness that really is impossible to appreciate, because he has transformed the turnover into a hypothetical turnover. He defies the predictable unpredictability that's characteristic of almost all people in sports and everything.

Fans would be wise to remember, when Ulis' successor fails to live up to that level of hidden greatness and effortless perfectionism, that he is only being human. He is doing what he is supposed to do. Pitchers are expected to have dud starts, even the great ones. Even perfectionist Peyton Manning, an all-time great who steps into the Super Bowl spotlight tonight, has been anything but perfect or consistent in the biggest games of his life. That's not to say that Ulis is one of the greatest basketball players in the world, but is can be used as evidence that he's one of the most underrated college basketball players of my lifetime. And it's why I think he's the closest thing Kentucky's had, and will have, to Anthony Davis.

There's a good chance Fox will do some things that Ulis can't do. He may finish more impressively at the rim, he may enjoy more talk of a glorious NBA future, and it's even possible that some naive fans with short memories may become so lost in Big Blue Madness excitement that they forget about Tyler Ulis, if he's gone, because Fox has restored the era of elite point guard recruits at Kentucky.

Even if he's confident and thinks he knows the size of those shoes Ulis may leave after this year, does Fox know the standard he would be compared to?

Probably not, because it's unlikely the fans even know. People adapt. Kentucky fans expected Anthony Davis to do special things on the court and now they expect their point guard to be a standard of perfect that is not fair for anyone else.

And because Ulis' greatness is hidden it may even be more difficult to live up to. Nerlens Noel may not have been able to reach his hand quite as high as he climbed the backboard to swat a shot. Then again, when fans watched Anthony Davis do that it was clear they were watching a super-human act. Davis' greatness was a common greatness; the greatness that we expect to see from the world's best at anything.

Ulis goes an entire season and every single game posts an impressive assist-to-turnover ratio and gives the team a calming presence without foul trouble. That kind of greatness may be noticed. Statisticians who don't even watch the games, just crunch the numbers, may actually appreciate it more. But when the turnovers that should be happening do happen, after Ulis ... well, that criticism might be a little harsher.

Ulis' hidden greatness is uncommon. Though rare, especially in college basketball, it isn't exactly surprising. It's more a slow conditioning to a reality that shouldn't exist. His greatness will be most evident when future point guards are human in the ways he is not. It will be appreciated when it's gone.

The mistakes he doesn't make. The turnover he doesn't commit. The 40-minute game without foul trouble, and the ease of game-planning that Calipari enjoys because he knows he can count on Ulis to give him those things.

Professional players are a little more predictable. Monetary incentives have no equal as a motivational aid and, besides, in the pro ranks it's only the world's best anyways. Even some professionals are inconsistent in terms of their efficiency value, even if they can be counted on score a certain amount.

College players aren't nearly as predictable. Most of them, anyways. Ulis is a professional basketball player playing college basketball. He's not going to be the NBA rookie who stays out too late the night before a game, or one who has difficulty adjusting to the hectic travel schedule and long, grinding season. Those are reasons league G.M.'s would be wise to quietly move him up their boards.

I'd argue Anthony Davis and Tyler Ulis are the two best college basketball players of the John Calipari era at Kentucky, with Davis first, of course. I'd put Ulis above John Wall, Demarcus Cousins and even Karl-Anthony Towns. While I won't elaborate on that too much (because Towns would surely be a good choice), college basketball is a guard's game, basketball is a point guard's (or point forward's) sport, and Ulis' intangibles and hidden contributions carry a lot of weight in that ranking.

Ulis might not be as important to Kentucky history as Wall.

He might not have the NBA career of Cousins.

He can't be the alpha male a defense cannot stop when he wants to score, as was Towns when his light bulb went off.

But he was more consistent than any of them. In certain stats, but more in everything else. And as a point guard on vastly different teams with entirely different roles required of him.

Defer to an older Harrison even as national pundits call for you to start? Of course.

Share the back court glory that's rightfully yours the next year with another guard-heavy team? Sure.

Put this way it's almost easy to underappreciate the way Ulis has actually stepped up as more of a conventional go-to scorer and star player. His intangibles and uncommon characteristics so define him, even if they're hidden and impossible to appreciate, that it's almost easy to forget that he's becoming the same kind of scorer that Calipari's other great scorers have been. He might score differently and less spectacularly than some others, but there is something spectacular about a 6-6 first half, and there is something highlight-reel worthy in making contested mid-range floaters seem like child's play.

Ulis wasn't made for the America of 2016.

He's too short in a sport made for 6'8 elite scoring point forwards. He's not tall enough to make a Sportscenter clip unless he's passing the ball to someone else who's scoring.

Then again, the dunk contest is usually boring. Tall people doing things high above the rim was satisfying in earlier decades with Jordan and Dominique, but over time the need to satisfy oneself with extremes is bound to end in something unfulfilling. Maybe I'm alone, but I don't wake up excited to see a thoroughbred of an athlete jumping over people in chairs or bouncing the ball off inanimate objects in high-flying alley-oops to himself.

Now, it may never get old watching Steph Curry toss in three-point bombs from everywhere on the court. It never got old watching Michael Jordan's intensity in the game's final moments, and it never got old watching Anthony Davis extending his arms to deflect a shot that should have been an easy basket. Just because their greatness was common doesn't mean it was any less great. It was great because no one else could do those things, so it always stood out even if they did it time and again.

It never got old watching those the greats surprise us in ways we expect to be surprised by them. But for today's highlight-heavy world of shock-headlines, it will never become new watching a player like Ulis. He is to Kentucky what Tim Duncan is to the professional game. No matter how much he wins, no matter how much you think he's respected, he will never be appreciated in the same way that others are. The bank shot, the two-handed rebound and the outlet pass are just as important as they have always been, but when a person has 30 free minutes to watch basketball and they've come to expect to be shocked, who's picking that over Lebron James or Steph Curry?

Even off the court the media's coverage (and fan interest in) of the sports world is increasingly dominated by things other than sports. Many of the most well-known national sports commentators are really just entertaining actors who can carry an on-camera debate while screaming at each other. And the debates are over Tim Tebow's NFL future, Johnny Manziel's legal issues or a host of other things better suited for TMZ.

Tyler Ulis is the unassuming basketball player who will not pout when he sits on the bench for most of his rookie season. He will not contribute to the job security of the gossip columnists among us. He is, compared to the athletes the sports world increasingly fixates on, boring.

He is boring because people, probably not just now but always, take the best of something and expect it of everything else. For as much as we are awed by the greatness we expect when we buy tickets to see James and Curry, in almost every other respect that kind of greatest in the sport's elite players makes the game less appealing. We see other 6'8 point forwards who can't do quite what James does as cheap imitations. And when we can watch the most mind-blowing highlights from the night's 50 college games in the span of five minutes online, what person other than a Kentucky fan will sit to watch Tyler Ulis not turn the ball over during a two-hour broadcast.

Some basketball people say that Steph Curry is creating a young generation of volume shooters who justify ridiculous shots and deemphasize important aspects of development in the name of almighty three-pointer. I don't think that critique is really all that fair, but it's given voice by some respected people. Ulis will never be criticized for that. He won't achieve Curry's fame, fortune or basketball success, but he's the kind of player who stands as a stark reminder that even players who lack ideal size or certain abilities -- even by a significant margin -- can become great.

It wouldn't be right to just say Ulis worked harder than everyone to become the Batman of the superhero world; lacking superhuman ability, but doing superhuman things nonetheless. He was blessed with extraordinary instincts, balance, vision and attributes. Those things, just as much as his handle and his heart, help him to shred the press and defy the world of reality other point guards live in.

It may be that people like Dan Dakich have a difficult time sitting still long enough to appreciate Ulis' kind of greatness. It's very likely that (aside from what he probably thinks and feels about Kentucky, and a desire for attention, or even what he learned from Bob Knight) Dakich is incapable of really appreciation Ulis' greatness because it's different than what we expect greatness to be. For a person who believes greatness for a quarterback is 6-foot-5 and 220-pounds, then Drew Brees probably took a while to grow on them. A lot of basketball people live in a small universe with a lot of conformity on assumptions and ideas. Just as it's hard for some football coaches to wrap their minds around a 6-foot quarterback having the seeds of greatness, in spite of all his other attributes, it's hard for some people to look beyond the ideal player they imagine exemplifies greatness. Ulis doesn't fit any ideal. And that's part of his greatness.

Some people appreciate that more than others. Let yourself appreciate it while Ulis is running the point at Kentucky. And when the guy after Ulis isn't him, realize he's only human and he's not supposed to be.

To really appreciate Ulis' greatness, and to gain the fullest appreciation for how beautiful his game is, I've learned to not allow myself to be conditioned by his conditioning. In other words, don't take for granted the things he doesn't do. Watch other games and notice how other point guards play. Notice the inconsistencies, the unpredictabilities and the things that make you shake your head. And then when you watch Ulis, watch him with the same expectations. That's when you'll be really surprised, and that's when his greatness is evident.

It's probably not necessary to tell tell anyone they ought to appreciate Ulis even more after he's done at Kentucky. That part will be easy.