Paul Millsap labors on

Paul Millsap, 3-time NBA All-Star, loves tacos.

This statement, in and of itself, isn’t particularly earth-shattering. After all, who doesn’t love tacos? Yet it represents a disconnect from what little is known about Millsap, even after an accomplished 11-year career. Professional athletes have long been recognized as celebrities, their lives away from the court or field as open for discussion as what they do during the games. In a climate of social media-driven transparency, it’s particularly easy to catch a glimpse of what had historically been the forte of gossip columnists. In fact, as more athletes explore diversified business interests beyond the games they play, any attempt at building that brand often depends on welcoming fans into a player’s life off the court.

Millsap’s career lies as a sharp contrast. He has seemingly chosen to eschew the fame and glamour that are common byproducts of his profession. While the nuances of his daily life away from basketball certainly exist, those of us on the outside are simply not privy to those details. Perhaps that is how it should be. It hasn’t hurt his on-court production in the least and maybe even helped to enhance it. While others develop their brand outside of basketball, Millsap’s singular focus is on the work it takes to be one of the best, most under-appreciated players in today’s game.

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Millsap is a man of few words but that sparsity gives his infrequent statements added weight. When asked what drives him at this point in his career, his deep, baritone response was measured and direct. “Just striving to be better,” he told The Step Back in early January.

That ambition has fueled Millsap’s successful career but its origins go back well before he ever stepped foot on a NBA court, and while it’s not inherently a hereditary trait, you’d be hard-pressed to get him to agree. The source of that drive? “Definitely my mother,” Millsap answers. Bettye Millsap moved to Louisiana with her four children in 1999 and was tireless in her efforts as a single parent. At one point, she worked nearly 90 hours a week to provide for Paul, and his brothers, John, Elijah and Abraham.

While Bettye was at work, Paul, the eldest, would sometimes have to cook for his siblings. “When I was younger, she worked three jobs to take care of me and my brothers. Looking up to her, watching her, that instilled the work ethic in us to want to work our butts off.” Consider that all four brothers, against ridiculous odds, played basketball professionally, with each spending time in either the NBA or the Development League.

Bettye’s years of sacrifice were a catalyst but her eldest son remains as committed to constant improvement as ever. “I want to continue to progress, to continue working on my game,” said Millsap. “No matter what age you are, you can always try to get better and that’s definitely what motivates me.”

The greats of the game have historically spoken about refining their style of play as they age so, in this regard, Millsap follows suit. But his path to greatness has been anything but common. He wasn’t a regular starter until his fifth season in the league, as a member of the 2010-11 Utah Jazz. He’d play two more seasons in Utah but his talents flew perpetually under the radar there and wasn’t selected as an All-Star until he joined the Atlanta Hawks in 2013, at the age of 28. He’s remained a fixture ever since.

Despite this, appreciation for Millsap’s skills remains nebulous. There are undoubtedly some who consider him a valuable player, one of the best forwards in the NBA. He’s a versatile scorer, both from the perimeter and around the rim, as well as a staunch defender, capable of guarding smaller wings and harassing larger players in the painted area.

Here’s where the disparity between the on- and off-court personas might finally limit Millsap. The multitude of skills notwithstanding, he’s often excluded in the conversation among peripheral fans as one of the league’s most talented players. Nothing he does is flashy or egregious. Instead, he exists merely a solid, dependable force.

When asked if being underrated is a concern, Millsap quickly answers, “Yeah, I don’t care.” Then, there’s a pause before adding, more thoughtfully, “Most people look for highlights. I’m’a try to play the game the right way, any time I step out onto the court. Basketball fans — real basketball fans — appreciate that.”

Recognizing Millsap’s contributions is further complicated within the context of team success. It’s been theorized that, in basketball, a team reflects or adopts the personality of its best player. In Atlanta, that designation has belonged to Millsap, although even that argument isn’t quite definite. The Hawks have been a mid-level team for years, even well before the arrival of Millsap. They’ve reached the playoffs in nine consecutive seasons but rarely been considered a title contender. Even those berths come with a caveat; Atlanta twice played in the postseason despite a regular-season record below .500.

In Millsap’s three-and-a-half seasons in Atlanta, his best team was in 2014-15, a group that achieved a 60-22 regular-season record and advanced to the Eastern Conference Finals. The Hawks were more dynamic than ever that season but much of that was credited to a team-wide success rather than the strength of any one individual. This was a deep collection of capable scorers, versatile defenders and adept passers. But the all-too-common criticism of the Hawks was that they lacked, rather vaguely and perhaps unfairly, a “superstar” — whatever that term implies.

That the whole starting unit was chosen, en masse, as the East’s “Player of the Month” in January 2014, didn’t do much Millsap’s recognition as one of the best players in the league. If Millsap was the Hawks best player, what did it say about him if the team’s identity was collectively defined instead of star-driven?

That they were summarily dismissed by an injury-hobbled Cleveland Cavaliers team led by LeBron James, this era’s greatest individual player, all but assured that Millsap would remain somewhere below the league’s elite, at least in the estimation of most fans.

Still, Millsap’s value, regardless of where he fits along the spectrum of appreciation, is undeniable. He’s long been considered a potential trade asset, particularly as a potential free agent at the end of this season. Recent reports indicated that Millsap would opt out of his current contract, leading to the widely-held understanding that the Hawks would trade him soon or risk losing him and getting nothing in return. A deal that sent former teammate Kyle Korver to the Cavaliers seemed a likely indicator that the Hawks were looking to clear the roster and that Millsap would probably wind up elsewhere. And while that has since been refuted, there’s no way of knowing where Millsap will be playing in the near future.

Unsurprisingly, Millsap doesn’t believe the constant rumors are a distraction. “Just stick to basketball,” he explained, “That’s pretty much it. Just get out on the court and play. That’s all I can control.” Even if there truly was an impact, Millsap doesn’t seem likely to divulge the answer.

There are barriers that invariably exist and must be protected, between the professional that we bear witness to and the person that remains a necessary mystery. After all, the latter version — avid chess player, golfer, father of four and taco connoisseur — might be inconvenienced.
But the other side of Paul Millsap still has work to do, whether in Atlanta or elsewhere, and greatness to strive for whether you recognize it or not.