Myles Turner Gets Candid Before Indiana Return: ‘They Wanted Me Gone, Now They’re Mad That I Finally Left’

Myles Turner has never been one to stir the pot for attention. But as his return to Indiana looms, the longest-tenured Pacer of the last decade is speaking with a tone that reveals both reflection and a bit of unresolved emotion. After years of holding down the paint, fighting through injuries, trade speculation, and often being overshadowed in his own team’s narrative, Turner finally left the Indiana Pacers. Now, with his first game back in Gainbridge Fieldhouse scheduled on the calendar, Turner isn’t sugarcoating how he feels — or how things played out.

“I don’t know what to expect when I go back,” Turner admitted in a recent interview. “A lotta people wanted me gone… now they’re mad I left.”

That single quote feels like the emotional thesis of Turner’s complicated Indiana legacy. A defensive anchor, a rim-protector, a soft-spoken leader, and often the scapegoat when things didn’t click — Turner was many things to the Pacers. But perhaps most of all, he was misunderstood. Drafted 11th overall in 2015, he arrived in Indiana with expectations of becoming the franchise’s next great big man. And for much of his tenure, he delivered on the defensive end. Multiple times he led the league in blocks per game. He was the last line of defense, the shot-swatter that kept Indiana’s defense respectable during years when the roster was in flux. But being great at the unglamorous parts of the game isn’t always enough to silence critics.

“People talked about what I wasn’t doing more than what I was,” Turner said. “I was never trying to be the guy who scores 25 a night. I just wanted to help us win. Some people respected that, others didn’t.”

The tension that brewed between Turner and the fanbase over the years wasn’t always loud, but it was persistent. Every trade deadline, his name was on the block. Every offseason, speculation surrounded his future. It’s not that the fans disliked him, but there was always a lingering sense that Turner was a placeholder — a solid player just waiting to be upgraded. And yet, he stayed. Through the Paul George departure, the Victor Oladipo injury, the Domantas Sabonis experiment, and a carousel of coaching changes, Turner remained one of the few constants. His loyalty, though, wasn’t always reciprocated with belief.

“It’s funny,” Turner added. “There were years I was expecting to be traded. I’d go into the season thinking it was a wrap. But I was still there. I never asked out. I wanted to make it work in Indiana.”

When the eventual separation came, it wasn’t with drama or headlines. It was quiet, almost too quiet for a player who had given the franchise nine years of blood, sweat, and shot contests. The trade that sent Turner elsewhere felt like a footnote in a league that had already moved on to flashier headlines. But now that he’s gone, the noise has returned. Fans have begun to reflect. Some feel the Pacers gave up on him too soon. Others miss the interior defense that’s proving harder to replace than expected. And Turner? He’s hearing all of it.

“I see the tweets, I hear the noise,” he said. “It’s wild how people rewrite history once you’re gone. But I’m not bitter — I’m just being real.”

That “realness” is what has always set Turner apart. In a league full of media-trained soundbites, Turner has been candid, thoughtful, and occasionally raw. He’s spoken openly about his mental health, his growth, his frustrations, and the pressures of being a young star on a team constantly in transition. Even in his departure, he’s handled things with grace — but the edge in his voice now suggests that grace was hard-earned.

“I gave Indiana everything I had,” he continued. “I grew up there. Not just as a player, but as a man. So yeah, it hits a little different now.”

The NBA is no stranger to emotional returns. From LeBron’s infamous first game back in Cleveland as a member of the Heat to Kevin Durant’s icy reception in Oklahoma City, fans often carry their own narratives into homecomings. What makes Turner’s return unique is the emotional ambiguity. He wasn’t a superstar who abandoned his team. He wasn’t a villain or a glory-hunter. He was just there — reliable, consistent, always in the mix but never quite front and center. And that makes his return harder to predict.

“I don’t expect cheers or boos. I just want to play,” Turner said. “But if people wanna show love, I’ll receive it. If not, I’ll still do my thing.”

One could argue that Turner’s story mirrors Indiana’s as a franchise during his time — moments of promise, underdog grit, but ultimately overshadowed by flashier narratives. Still, his presence mattered. Coaches lauded his defensive IQ. Teammates appreciated his selflessness. And behind the scenes, he was often the one bridging the gap between the locker room and the coaching staff. His quiet leadership didn’t always draw headlines, but it created stability.

Now, in a new city with a fresh system and fewer trade rumors, Turner is thriving. His numbers are steady, his minutes impactful, and most importantly, he looks free. No longer asked to stretch himself beyond his natural role, he’s found a rhythm that Indiana fans perhaps never fully saw.

“I feel like I’m being used right,” Turner said. “Not just as a player, but as someone whose voice matters.”

That line says a lot. For years, Turner was a supporting actor asked to deliver leading-man performances. Now, in a situation tailored to his strengths, he’s reminding people why he was once considered a foundational piece. And perhaps that’s the most compelling part of this return — not what fans will say, but what they might realize in seeing him again.

The game itself will be just another date on the calendar. But for Turner, it represents more. Closure, perhaps. Or maybe just clarity. The city he gave nearly a decade to will watch him take the floor in another jersey, and the reactions will speak volumes — not just about how they feel now, but how they might have taken his contributions for granted.

“There’s no hate in my heart,” Turner said. “I still got love for Indy. Always will. But I’m allowed to feel some type of way too.”

That sentence sums up the complexity of this moment. It’s not revenge. It’s not resentment. It’s just real emotion from a player who endured it all — the praise, the doubt, the loyalty, the betrayal — and is still standing. If the cheers come, they’ll be earned. If the boos come, they’ll say more about the fans than about Turner. Either way, he’s ready.

So, when the lights hit Gainbridge Fieldhouse and the arena announcer calls out the visiting team, don’t be surprised if the loudest moment of the night isn’t a dunk or a buzzer-beater. It might just be the reaction to one name: Myles Turner.

The player they wanted gone. The player they now miss.

And the player who never really said goodbye — until now.