Joel Embiid’s injuries are what they are. The Sixers need to be better prepared for them.

There he sat, the greatest center in a generation, a basketball cradled in his arm, an earnest expression on his face, fielding all of the questions he’s faced a hundred times before. Joel Embiid is one of those rare superstars who often comes across as more well-adjusted than those of us hanging on his every word. This was one of those times, a Thursday afternoon at the Sixers’ training complex in Camden where the big man made his first public attempt at putting his latest injury into perspective.

The perspective, more or less, was that there is no perspective — only a desire to play basketball, and an inability to do so. There are rehab sessions, and there are doctor appointments, and there are Sixers games on televisions, and there is a young child who is thrilled to suddenly have his father around, whatever the circumstances. Beyond that, there wasn’t much more to report.

“My son, he’s loving it,” Embiid said with a wistful smile. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m not doing anything. He’s getting too used to it. He doesn’t want me to leave the house anymore.”

It was one of those comments that sometimes leaves Embiid open to charges that he suffers from a competitiveness deficiency. In this city, casual disregard for the things that truly matter -- wins, titles -- is a capital offense. Performance art is better than honesty. Nobody wants to listen to a superstar’s silver linings. They want him to feel what they feel. In this case, they want some indication that he understands the gravity of the situation. The Sixers are nothing without Embiid. Once again, he is not there.

Thing is, those are two separate issues. Embiid’s misfortune is that he must bear the weight of both. He must beg pardon not only for his injuries but for his team’s inability to overcome them.

The distinction is important, particularly for those who see his injuries as legacy-defining stuff. Nearly a decade has passed since the Sixers drafted Embiid at No. 3 overall. They have had 10 years to custom-build a team with him at its center. Yet, still saddled with a roster so thin that his absence is a death blow.

Think back to 2015, to the second foot surgery, the second missed season, the Shirley Temple Era of the Process. Imagine if you knew then that Embiid would appear in more games during his first seven full seasons than Jimmy Butler, or Anthony Davis, or Kevin Durant during that stretch. Imagine if you knew that he would play in 53 of the Sixers’ 61 playoff games, including three Game 7s, all of them for a trip to a conference finals they would have had a fighting chance at winning.

Imagine you knew everything else that happened. That the Sixers would have the No. 1 overall pick in the NBA draft in two straight seasons. That Markelle Fultz and Ben Simmons would turn out as they did. That they would trade for Jimmy Butler and then let him walk away to a couple of NBA Finals berths in Miami. That they would draft Mikal Bridges and then watch him in the NBA Finals as a member of the Suns. That Simmons would become a jelly-legged James Harden, and Harden would become Nic Batum.

If you knew all of that back in 2015, whose legacy would you question?

Maybe a better way to understand the point is to think back to 2021, the year Giannis Antetokounmpo and the Bucks won their title. In Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals, Antetokounmpo suffered a hyperextended knee. He missed Games 5 and 6. The Bucks won them both to close out the series.

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Not long after his most recent surgery, Embiid was talking to Sixers coach Nick Nurse about the opportunity they’d lost. He watched Hield, he watched Lowry, he watched all of them operating alongside Tyrese Maxey. He did what all of us have done. He pictured himself there.

“I was like, ‘Man, I’m sorry, I wish I was playing,’” Embiid said.

Nurse laughed when asked about the interaction.

“I agree,” he said.

I’m sorry. Those two words are worth some thought. They are sad, in a way. The thing you need to understand about Embiid is that he understands the stakes every time he is on the sideline. He has seen it firsthand since his first full season in the NBA. Whenever he is on the court, the Sixers are a team that opponents must reckon with. Maybe not an instant contender, but a team that has already done all of the heavy lifting. The irony, the tragedy of the Process is that it yielded the one thing it was designed to yield: a generational superstar, the kind of player who can’t be built or developed or manufactured via culture. All that was left was to fill in the rest.

Seven years later, the Sixers are largely where they started. It is Embiid, or it is a fight for the eight seed. After Sunday’s 120-116 win over the Mavericks, they are 6-8 since Embiid went down for good. The optimism about Embiid’s return is a good thing. As long as he is on the court, they have a chance. And it sounds like he has a better chance than not of being there.

Yet even if and when Embiid returns, he will be shouldering a disproportionate load. He will be doing so on a surgically-repaired knee, after a two-month layoff, in an Eastern Conference that features a couple of behemoths at the top and a dogfight in the middle.

In some ways, the Sixers are closer than they ever have been to the team they have always needed to be. In Maxey, they have the young, star-caliber combo guard they have long sought. In Hield, they have a shooter who is among the best in the game at spacing the court. It will be interesting to see what happens if Embiid can get himself healthy, in shape, and back on the court.

Whatever the outcome of 2023-24, the Sixers will be staring down an era-defining summer. Embiid is two weeks shy of his 30th birthday. He will be two years away from free agency. They should have the cap room to make a significant signing, the assets to make a significant trade. Re-sign Maxey and Hield, draft a center who can hold his own on the defensive end when Embiid is on the bench. That’s the dream.

The challenge remains. As singular a star as Embiid is, they need to find a way to build a supporting cast that is not inordinately dependent upon him. A team that can still compete when he is not there. A team that does not force him to answer for the weight of his absence.