In the underbelly of TD Garden, beneath the black upholstered seats and a long outlet pass from the famed parquet floor, the home and road locker rooms lie parallel to each other, separated by only a narrow hallway and a white paint-splashed concrete wall. A very un-soundproof wall, it turns out, one that the Celtics—had they been able to foresee the outcome of the 2022 Finals—would have bolted acoustic panels to years ago. Inside Boston’s locker room, minutes after they dropped a series-clinching Game 6 to Golden State, tears flowed. Blank faces stared down at crumpled stat sheets. Ime Udoka was the first to break the silence. “And I don’t think he wanted to,” says center Al Horford. Outside, the roar from dozens of champagne-soaked Warriors players and personnel was unavoidable. The pulsing from the hip-hop music vibrated through the floors. “Trust me,” says Horford, “we could hear everything.”
Even now, Jayson Tatum winces at the memory. Leaning back in his locker that night, everything he accomplished—All-Star starter, All-NBA First Team, the seventh-highest scoring average (26.9 ppg) in Celtics history—felt meaningless. Showered, changed and fresh from rehashing the Finals with a few dozen reporters, Tatum could still hear the celebration as he walked to his car. “Definitely not a good feeling,” he says. What he saw earlier bothered him more: Golden State’s celebrating on Boston’s home floor. “That,” says Tatum, who shot only 36.7% from the field during the Finals, “I’ll never forget.”
Jeffrey A. Salter/Sports Illustrated
