ATLANTA -- Three hours after news broke of the Hawks’ sale to Los Angeles billionaire Tony Ressler for approximately $850 million, acting general manager and honest-to-goodness head coach Mike Budenholzer pleaded with the media during his pregame press conference to resist the urge to ask questions about the pending transaction. There was high stakes basketball to be played, and the focus should kindly remain on the task at hand.
For the most part, Budenholzer got his wish. Paul Millsap’s right shoulder and Al Horford’s pinkie finger were the leading lines of inquiry, but the air at Philips Arena was charged. Up on the club level and in the corridors that line the bowels of the arena, those with an interest in the sale buzzed.
Who is Ressler? Private equity, or is it hedge funds? New York or Los Angeles? Just don’t say Seattle. You think he’ll bring back Danny?
For a roster and coaching staff that avoids distractions as a matter of principle, the Hawks just can’t seem to escape the drama: Bruce Levenson’s email suggesting black fans scared suburbanites away. Danny Ferry’s anthropological observations of African merchants on a recorded conference call. The events surrounding Thabo Sefolosha at the hands of his arresting officers in New York.
But this week has brought good news to the Hawks. They beat the Nets in Game 1, if unexceptionally.
On Monday, Budenholzer was named Coach of the Year, and he accepted the award with a gracious speech filled with honest emotion from a measured man.
On Tuesday, the No. 1 seed Hawks cut through the noise again and eked out a 96-91 win over No. 8 Brooklyn that wasn’t secured until the final 10 seconds.
About that last possession. Virtually everyone in the building had seen it a thousand times -- Joe Johnson in isolation at the top of the floor, pounding the ball, ready to wage war one-on-one. And on the other side of the ball, his bargain-bin replacement, DeMarre Carroll.
For a guy who toils in plainspoken anonymity, Johnson has cemented his reputation as one of the more polarizing sports figures in Atlanta history. Depending on your fan orientation, Johnson either put in seven seasons of dogged work to bring the Hawks back to respectability, or he’s a ungrateful, $126 million underachiever who needled Atlanta fans on his way out the door.
As has been the case since Johnson stepped foot on the floor in Game 1, Johnson was roundly booed as he held, then dribbled the ball as he sized up Carroll. The Hawks' defensive ace made him work, first cutting off his right, then pushing him back toward Atlanta’s help defense with a behind-the-back crossover dribble.
The Hawks’ defense yields the weak-side corner a fair amount, and that’s where Johnson found poor Deron Williams alone. Williams had a clean look from beyond the arc, but he opted to let Kent Bazemore breeze by him with a hard closeout, take a single dribble, then leave the shot flat and short. Then a Kyle Korver rebound, foul shots, ball game.
Now for your daily Hawks apologia, since two narrow victories over a downcast, below-500 opponent on one’s home floor warrant a criminal defense. Enter Millsap, whose right shoulder strain had emerged as the Hawks’ greatest liability since he went down on April 4. He struggled in Game 1 but was the Hawks’ biggest performer in Game 2: 19 points, seven rebounds, two blocks, two assists and an efficient 7-for-11 from the floor (he hit all four 3-pointers he attempted).
The Pad on Millsap’s shoulder guard has become a stirring topic in HawksWorld since he returned from the injury. The trainers experimented with all kinds of cosmetic alterations before Millsap decided, screw it. Pain upon contact was a small price to pay for mobility and range of motion.
He was right.
“Definitely more range and definitely more mobility,” Millsap said about life without The Pad. “When you can’t pick your arms up above your ears, your shoulders up above your ears, it’s kind of tough. So I was able to do that tonight. And more than likely, I’ll go without it again the next game."
Millsap then trailed off laughing at a declaration so obvious. Which was funny in itself because Millsap is a mellow, somewhat serious guy who doesn’t peddle in sarcasm.
He does peddle Hawks basketball, of which there has been less than we’re accustomed to through the first 96 minutes of the series. With the Hawks leading by only one point inside of a minute, Millsap made a most Millsapian and Hawkish play when he picked and re-picked for Jeff Teague, in the process pancaking Jarrett Jack, who crumpled to the ground. Teague moved the ball over to Millsap, who had a clean look at the basket from behind the arc. But when Jack fell, Williams momentarily left Carroll to stunt at Millsap.
That’s all it takes for the Hawks to pounce on opportunity. The moment Williams shifted his body weight toward Millsap and away from Carroll, Carroll cut along the baseline from the corner to the rim, where Millsap floated him a gorgeous pass for the easiest, most uncontested layup Atlanta had all night.
“It was a read,” Millsap said. “I was open for a 3, then I saw DeMarre cut to the basket, and I said, ‘Gotta get that layup.’”
See Millsap’s construction in his response? Gotta get that layup. The layup wasn’t for him -- it was Carroll’s shot attempt. Yet this is how the Hawks see the court. The layup doesn’t belong to Carroll any more than it belongs to Millsap ... or Teague or Korver or Horford. In Atlanta, shot attempts belong to the collective.
The Hawks didn’t play Hawks Basketball in Games 1 and 2 as often as they’ll need to in Brooklyn for Games 3 and 4 -- and points beyond. But with the drama swirling and outside events penetrating their fishbowl, the Hawks saw their most consistent player return to prime form, sans The Pad.
The Hawks' sale agreement will take several weeks to execute -- and so might the Hawks.
But both will get it done.