Before referee Zach Zarba would lob the ball in the air for the opening tip on Sunday, Al Horford walked down the court toward what would be Brooklyn’s basket in the first half, stopping just beneath the cup. With the crowd already in mid-postseason form, charged and animated like it was prepared to witness a game seven-esque battle, Horford reached up, grabbed either side of the net, leaned his head, and closed his eyes.
A subtle grin (and I mean subtle, as most things are with Al) appeared, as though he felt the energy swell within him. Never mind the fact that it was merely Game 1; “I mean, it’s the playoffs,” he said postgame.