This story originally appeared in Mile High Sports Magazine. Read the full digital edition.
The noises were the same.
The shrieks and shrills of kids, the roar of the roller coaster, the steady hum of traffic whizzing by on nearby Interstate 25 – it all sounded just like it did 20 years ago.
The smells – the popcorn, the funnel cakes, the midsummer sweat – they were the same, too.
For that matter, the blacktop that cooked up from beneath his size 16 sneakers was probably the exact same stuff. He’d stood right there before; he could feel it.
But there were differences.
For starters, there was at least a foot. In height, that is. The last time Paul Millsap took in Denver’s famed Elitch Gardens, he was at least 12 inches shorter, maybe more. That was probably 120, maybe 150, pounds ago, too.
And the last time he was there, he was riding the rides, screaming the screams and smelling the smells. This time it was his kids having the fun.
He would walk through the crowds, look up, stop and say: “I rode that ride when I was little.”
They’d look up at Dad – interested for a moment – then hustle to the back of the line, ready to ride again. And again. And again.
“To go back and tell my kids [that], and then they go and ride it – I mean, it was awesome,” Millsap says from inside Pepsi Center.
Pepsi Center. That’s different, too.
The “once or twice” that a young Paul Millsap had headed over to Elitch’s from his Montbello home, there was no Pepsi Center in sight. There was no “Chopper Circle.” The Nuggets, his newest and current employer, were playing across I-25 at old McNichols Arena.
Millsap had been to Big Mac, too. He’d watched Antonio McDyess and Rocky the Supermascot – just a pup back then. He liked basketball, that’s what his older brother played, but was far more interested in becoming John Elway than McDyess. After all, he was the star quarterback of his Pop Warner and middle school teams.
That’s why it was so surreal – some two decades after that first trip to Elitch’s – that Millsap sat on what now looks like the tiniest of chairs, inside the monstrous Pepsi Center, on the Denver Nuggets’ pristinely perfect, professional practice court and answered questions about being the player who is supposed to return the team to the postseason for the first time since 2013. It was pinch-me perfect – fulfilling the prediction made by Nancy Kueter, Millsap’s first- through fourth-grade teacher at John Amesse Elementary School who’d once told Paul’s mother Bettye Millsap that her son would someday make enough money that she’d be able to stop working – that the 6-foot-8, 250-pound, 32-year-old man answering the questions had just become the highest-paid professional athlete in Denver sports history.
“When the boys were little, I could only afford to buy them one pair of shoes every school year. Now he’s got a contract with Nike and he makes sure everyone in the family has new shoes. He’s always a family man first.” – Bettye Millsap, Paul’s mother
Reporter’s question: “Tim Connelly just described you as a superstar, do you see yourself as a superstar?”
Millsap’s answer: “Sure.”
He pauses.
“I am.”
Then he chuckles.
“What is a superstar? What fits that criteria? Is it guys who make their teammates better? Is it guys who can pretty much do everything on a basketball court? We know who those guys are, so I would say so.”
That’s all you’ll ever get though. With Millsap, there’s zero flash, zero interest in elaborating on himself, much less his stardom.
“He’s very understated,” says Connelly. “He’s ego-less – not just for a superstar, for an NBA player, period.”
By every measurable, though – his new, three-year, $90 million contract; the 18.1 points, 7.7 rebounds and 3.7 assists per game he posted last year in Atlanta (all career highs); his four All-Star game appearances and two All-NBA honors; his 87 total playoff games; the analytics and intangibles that had Connelly trying to find a way to bring him to Denver for the past two years – Millsap is a superstar.
Just not a traditional superstar.
The reporter asking the question is one of three media types standing around, sheepishly quizzing Millsap. Compare it to the scene leading into Allen Iverson’s first full season in Denver. While Iverson’s teammates would await the media upstairs on the practice court, the soft-spoken guard, along with teammate Carmelo Anthony – both “faces of the NBA” no doubt – essentially held their own press conference downstairs in the press room, answering questions from 30, maybe 50, reporters.
Or, compare it to the scrum that took place just 20 feet from Millsap on the media’s first crack at this year’s team, where at least a dozen scribes and cameramen surrounded the star in the making, Nikola Jokic.
Or, compare it to Carmelo Anthony the rookie, who entered Denver as a nationally known brand, with a golden smile, perfectly lined cornrows and his own line of Jumpman basketball shoes. During Melo’s first year, he and his high-rise, penthouse suite in Denver’s Golden Triangle neighborhood were featured on MTV’s “Cribs.” When Millsap concluded his introductory press conference in Denver, a humble yet perfect gathering that took place at the Montbello Recreation Center, he and his mother stopped in at the house where he grew up, the tiny place where Bettye, her three sons and the $1,000 she’d saved landed when they arrived in Colorado back in 1987.
“It definitely looked smaller,” he says. “I live in a bigger house now. Going back, it’s smaller than what I remember. I’m a lot bigger now, too. A lot of things change in 20 years; so to go back and see that, it was a shock. A few things have changed. Some haven’t. The paint color was changed, but I still remember it.
“Every time we would come here and play, I’d always tell myself I was going to go back and see the old neighborhood, see the old house. But I never did it. I guess it was my nerves.”
“I taught my boys that meekness is not weakness; the Bible teaches us, ‘Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.’” – Bettye Millsap
It’s ironic to hear Millsap speak of nerves. On the basketball court, he appears to have none. In fact, he almost appears emotionless. He is steady, consistent and reliable. Never too up or too down.
In his first three games as a Nugget, Millsap scored 19, 18 and 17 – which equates to 0.3 points more than his scoring average with the Hawks last season. He also grabbed six, nine and eight rebounds – or, the exact same 7.7 rebounds per game he pulled down in Atlanta. He is exactly the player the Nuggets believed they were getting.
“He helps on offense, defense, culture and locker room,” says Nuggets head coach Michael Malone.
Malone thinks back to a Sunday night game late last March. The Nuggets had just come off two big wins, beating Cleveland on the road and Indiana at home. In the standings, Malone’s team was desperately trying to fend off the Portland Trail Blazers, who had climbed to within one game of the Nuggets for the eighth and final spot in the playoffs. Back at Pepsi Center, Malone’s team was about to face the New Orleans Pelicans, who were all but eliminated from the postseason and who were without All-Star big man DeMarcus Cousins. With just 10 games remaining on the schedule, the very next being a road game against the Trail Blazers, getting a win against the man-down Pelicans was crucial.
“They came in there and kicked our ass,” says Malone. “We came in and laid an egg.”
Nuggets fans know how the story ends. The New Orleans loss was the first of three straight, and by April 2 Denver was on the outside looking in, a full two games behind Portland for the last spot in the West. Even winning five of the team’s last seven games wasn’t enough; it was too late.
Another year without playoff games at Pepsi Center.
“When you have a veteran like Paul Millsap, you hope those guys don’t allow that to happen. You hope that guy, at some point – in a timeout, in the huddle, at halftime or on the court – says ‘Hey man, we have to understand the gravity of the situation. This is way too important.’
“We came out with no energy that game, and obviously that’s where you hope a veteran like Paul Millsap would have helped.”
That is the hope in Denver – that Millsap is the difference between seizing an opportunity and not, between making the playoffs and watching them on television. Prior to Millsap’s arrival, the Nuggets were considered, by most around the NBA really, to be one of the best “young” teams in the Association. They had raw talent – gobs of it – just no experience. With Millsap, they’ve now got both.
“We’re still a very young team. You hope a veteran teaches these guys by example, teaches them with his voice,” says Malone.
The hometown connection is nice – “That was just the frosting on the cake,” says Millsap – but the reason he’s in Denver is twofold: Because the Nuggets feel he’s the piece of the puzzle that gets them over the hump, and because Millsap believes in the Nuggets.
“The main reason was the style of play and the feel I got from the organization when I sat down and had dinner with them,” he says.
Malone likes to “play through his bigs.” He did it with Jokic last season and intends on doing more of the same with Millsap, an excellent passer who’s equally effective in the post or beyond the arc. Malone’s team, the third-highest scoring team in the NBA last season, also desperately needs defense (where they ranked 27th). According to basketball-reference.com, Millsap ranks ninth in defensive rating among all NBA players. In the 2015-16 season, he averaged more defensive win shares than any other player. He can guard an athletic small forward or muscle up with the game’s strongest big men. Before turning pro, he led NCAA Division I basketball in rebounding – for three straight seasons. His size, versatility and unselfishness make for a rare combination in the modern NBA.
“He fits perfectly because he wants to fit,” says Jokic.
While Denver still believes that a team can win in the NBA, critics and pundits and cynics happily lean on an age-old refrain: Nobody wins in the Association without a star, maybe even two. With the exception of the Chauncey Billups-led Pistons, a team that won it all not so long after Millsap took his first ride at Elitch Gardens, there’s not much evidence that dispels the theory about how titles are won in the NBA.
Even Jokic, who is already on the verge of becoming a star, understands this concept: “That’s the one piece we were missing – the All-Star.”
In Paul Millsap, the Nuggets now have one, and anything short of a playoff berth won’t do.