His shadow is measurable and recognizable by merely a glimpse. When he exits the Celtics’ locker room at TD Garden, Kevin Garnett generally wears a hood over his head, as if he truly believes it will camouflage a 7-foot man with a bald crown and diamond earrings.
He fully realizes it’s a futile attempt, but it’s an attempt nonetheless. It’s an attempt at privacy. It’s an attempt to retain normalcy in his life. It’s a signal that when the game is over, Garnett transforms back into a reclusive, sensitive, and mercurial person, far from the screaming, gyrating, and expressive man that shows up on game nights.