The clock ticks on future Hall of Famer Kevin Garnett's career with every measured stride he manages during an injury-interrupted 19th NBA season. He will arrive hurting to Sunday's reunion with the Timberwolves in Brooklyn.
It's the kind of longevity promised to no one, the kind of longevity a newly hired Wolves employee named Flip Saunders had suspected but had no right to dream of the first time he saw this skinny teenager run during a private 1995 predraft workout.
"A lot of guys when they run, you can hear them run, the floor and everything else," Saunders said. "K.G. would run and it was like he was running on feathers. You could never hear him run."
Five weeks fresh on the job, Saunders and new Wolves basketball boss Kevin McHale attended that workout arranged by Garnett's agent. It came during sessions of the league's annual Chicago draft camp for 13 lottery teams curious about the first high school kid in 20 years attempting to make the leap directly into the NBA.
Nobody had done so since Darryl Dawkins and Bill Willoughby in 1975 and, lost in the mists of time since then, is both the intrigue and skepticism NBA executives brought with them that June day about a prospect whose maturity, character and intelligence seemed suspect at the time.
They were unaware how a player who possessed a guard's fluidity with a center's height would transform the NBA someday in so many ways.
Saunders and McHale entered a gym at the University of Illinois-Chicago that day prepared to praise Garnett afterward regardless of his performance, hoping their words would convince one of four teams ahead of the Wolves to take the kid so Joe Smith, Anthony McDyess, Jerry Stackhouse or Rasheed Wallace would drop to them with the fifth pick in the draft.
"About two minutes in, I turned to Kevin and said, 'You know, we better hope he's there at No. 5,' " Saunders said.