Kristaps Porzingis scrimmaged for the first time in months on November 18. Well, at least to the knowledge of the public. Boston Celtics PR released an update, noting that the Latvian big man had entered the next stage in his recovery from offseason surgery to repair a dislocation of his tibialis posterior tendon. As part of that process, he practiced with the Maine Celtics G League squad.
But he wasn’t the only one who participated. Xavier Tillman went, too.
Boston acquired Tillman at last year’s trade deadline in a deal with the Memphis Grizzlies. The 25-year-old didn’t see much tick in the regular season or playoffs, but his number was called when the NBA Finals came around.
“I just knew at some point he was going to play a significant role for them down the stretch,” said Foster Loyer, Tillman’s Michigan State teammate and current assistant video coordinator for the Brooklyn Nets. “And I think that became very evident in that Mavs series. Because he's able to switch so well, they had him in there switching onto Luka [and] pressuring him.
“He had a couple of big blocks. He's just got such a natural ability of that. It's such a talent of his. When the time comes, he's gonna be ready, and any he showed that.”
Tillman’s crucial Finals minutes helped the Celtics withstand an injury to Porzingis, aiding them on their successful quest to capture Banner 18.
His efforts were rewarded in the summer, as Tillman inked a multi-year contract extension to stay in Boston. The team pushed their chips into the middle of the table, confident that he could repeat his postseason success in a regular role.
The 6-foot-8 big man made that bet look genius in the preseason.
Tillman played 17.2 minutes per game across four contests, averaging 6.8 points, 5.3 rebounds, and 1.3 assists on 47.4% shooting from the field and 54.5% shooting from beyond the arc. He was everything the Celtics had hoped he would be.
But when the regular season came around, a switch flipped. Whether it be for confidence reasons or merely a slump, Tillman went cold. His shot wasn’t falling, he slowly lost minutes, and eventually, Neemias Queta took his spot in the rotation.
That’s why practicing with Maine and Porzingis became noteworthy.
“I was a hooper long before I became an NBA player or had an ego,” Tillman told Bobby Manning of CLNS Media. “I just want to play basketball, so if I have an opportunity to play five-on-five, I’m gonna do that.”
Obviously, Tillman would love to be playing big minutes for the Celtics. He'd like nothing more than to appear in every contest. Help Boston win basketball games on a nightly basis. But his value to a team runs deeper than the minutes he spends on the court.
“At the end of the day, basketball is a job, and he knows he's there to do that, but that never compromises who he is as a person,” said Mike Noyes, one of Tillman’s coaches in Memphis and now the director of player development for the San Antonio Spurs.
“Whether he's playing a lot, playing a little, he's the same human being. And I think that's why guys respect him. And it's hard to hold guys accountable as a player if you're not doing the work yourself. That was never a problem with Xavier.”
There’s no doubt that Tillman can play. He’s earned important minutes at every junction of his career. It’s just about timing. And that’s not a hurdle Tillman has struggled to jump.
In fact, this situation is all too familiar for the former Grizzly.
Tillman was never gifted minutes. A second-round pick out of East Lansing, he entered the league staring up at a mountain of rotation guys above him in Memphis. The Grizzlies wanted to make the playoffs, and their forward position had plenty of depth.
Jaren Jackson Jr., Tillman’s college teammate and an eventual DPOY. Kyle Anderson, a seven-year NBA veteran. Brandon Clarke, a second-year big man emerging as a staple in the lineup. Jonas Valanciunas, a bruising center slowly transforming into a small-sample stretch five. Add in Dillon Brooks, Gorgui Dieng, and more, and Tillman's pathway to playing time was treacherous.
A few DNPs to start the year were quickly erased by some opportunities. Tillman slowly started playing more and more. By the end of the year, he played 18.4 minutes per game, which ranked 10th on the Grizzlies. But his brightest moment was yet to come.
Memphis scrapped their way to a Play-In birth, earning a date with the Golden State Warriors. But at the time, Jackson Jr. was still recovering from a torn meniscus, meaning he wasn’t playing the same minutes he usually would.
That gave Tillman an opening. And he took it without missing a beat.
“Draymond Green was chirping,” said Scoonie Penn, one of Tillman’s coaches in Memphis. “Was really chirping. Obviously, [there was the] Michigan State thing, but Draymond was really chirping that game. It was an intense game, and we needed it. And [Tillman] hit that big shot.”
The shot. Tillman hit the shot.
“He probably didn't get the headlines, but what sticks out in my mind, if you ask him or anybody that was on the team, he hit probably the biggest shot, or one of the biggest shots, in the Grizzlies' history,” said Penn.
Golden State and Memphis went back and forth all night. Trash talk, on-court antics, and a duel between Stephen Curry and Ja Morant made the evening special.
Regulation wasn’t enough to settle the score, so along came overtime.
A Tillman putback gave Memphis a two-point edge. Then Andrew Wiggins and Curry clapped back. Back and forth, back and forth, neither team could gain a real advantage. With 1:50 left in the game, Jordan Poole nailed a three that sent the Golden State bench into a frenzy, putting the Warriors up 109-107. But 24 seconds later, the madness was halted.
Morant drove into traffic with the shot clock winding down. In a last-second act of desperation, he contorted his body and squeaked out a pass to Tillman in the corner. Tillman fired up a triple, and as the shot-clock horn blew, it dropped. Grizzlies up 110-109.
From there, Memphis had momentum.
A pair of Morant buckets extended the Grizzlies’ lead to five points, and with 28 seconds left, a Poole turnover sealed the Warriors’ fate. A night of thrilling hoops came down to the wire, and Tillman’s three helped seal the deal.
“Just the joy he felt, but [also the joy] that everyone felt for him,” Penn said of the moment. “His teammates, everybody. And the staff, we were in the locker room after. We were happy, celebrating. We're going to playoffs.
“And I think it was Taylor [Jenkins] who said, 'Damn, f****** Xavier Tillman.' It was one of the coaches. Everyone was like, 'F****** X hit the shot we needed.' And everyone was just so happy for him.”
Regular minutes were anything but regular for Tillman. He had no idea if he would play on a night-to-night basis. But that didn’t matter. When coach called his name, he popped up off the bench and was ready to go. And in the Play-In, that translated to one of the biggest threes in recent Grizzlies history.
“We're talking about a guy who was always ready,” said Penn. “X would go weeks without even getting in the game, but then his number was called, and he was ready. And why? Because he wanted to play in play groups. He always wanted to be in the playgroups. He's always doing extra.
“He always used to say, 'I gotta stay ready. I gotta stay ready.' And time and time again, he stayed ready.”
That mindset made him loved in Memphis, and his departure was a gut punch to the entire organization.
The Xavier Tillman trade was a gut punch for the Grizzlies
The words ‘consummate professional’ don’t do Tillman justice. They are strikingly accurate, yet simultaneously fail to engulf the entire influence he has with his presence.
Sometimes, people will use the phrase ‘nothing bad to say’ as a cop-out, but in the case of Tillman, it was a repetitive token of good faith.
“I mean, he's great. I seriously have nothing but great things to say about him, and I truly hope I get to be on the same team as him again someday,” said Noyes.
“Let me start off by saying, in X, you guys got the best guy,” Penn said, completely unprompted.
“You couldn't find a better person, and I know a lot of people say that a lot.”
“He's just a great person,” said Jack Hoiberg, a teammate of Tillman’s at Michigan State. “I have nothing negative to say about the guy.”
At every stop in his basketball journey, Tillman was loved. And it all boiled down to the way he carried himself. No matter the situation, no matter his role on the team, X is going to be X.
“X is just like, 'Hey, here's me, and I ain't gonna change,'” said Atlanta Hawks forward David Roddy, a teammate of Tillman’s in Memphis. “He just does a great job at that.”
“It's easy to fit in when you're the same person every single day,” said Noyes.
From helping Roddy and other Grizzlies rookies feel welcomed into Memphis’ tight-knit core to providing a light in the room at any sign of darkness, Tillman did it all.
But the Grizzlies hit a wall last year.
Injury after injury, their entire team came tumbling down. Combined with Morant’s suspension to start the year, Memphis was left with a lost season. And that meant selling some assets. Including Tillman.
The Grizzlies’ loss was the Celtics’ gain, but the entire organization took it to heart.
“When he got traded, I was like, 'Damn,'” said Penn “And some of the other guys I remember going to the practice court, and everybody was like, 'Damn, X is gone.’
“Desmond Bane and X are really close, and Des was one who really felt it when X got traded. They were really close, which I know they still are, but everybody felt it. We lost a good one, and you guys gained a good one when a trade went down.”
Everyone on the team, from the players to the front office to the coaching staff, was sad to see him go.
“Oh, man, everybody loves X,” said Eric Dawson, one of Tillman’s coaches in Memphis. “Like I said before earlier, there was nobody on the team, no coach - everybody loved X. When he got traded, it hurt. It was one of those moments. We felt it."
On the court, Tillman was a beast. His defensive IQ and tenacious rebounding made him an instant-impact player whenever his number was yelled out by Taylor Jenkins.
His teammates appreciated his constant hustle and efforts to improve.
“There are a lot of unspoken things and things that true basketball players see, and they appreciate, and he just fills that role, and everyone sees that,” said Roddy.
But those features weren’t at the core of the adoration he earned.
It was his ability to make connections.
“X will talk to a fly if a fly talked back to him,” Dawson said with a laugh.
Whenever Tillman is around, the mood was up.
“That playful, goofy, professional, loving guy, you could just feel his energy when he's in a room, and when he's not in the room, it's like, 'Man, where's X?’” said Dawson.
No matter the situation, Tillman’s unwavering willingness to be unapologetically himself lifts up everyone around him.
Dawson’s recount of Tillman’s desire to talk to anything (including insects) that would talk back is a reflection of how well-liked he was in Memphis and at Michigan State (and now, in Boston).
But sometimes, actions speak louder than words. Whether that means going to catch the latest Marvel movie or jamming out to Rod Wave, Tillman always did what made him happy.
And that includes breaking out some dance moves from time to time.
“We went to one of our buddies' lake places in Atlanta, Georgia,” Hoiberg recalled. “We went out there, and X was just dancing the whole weekend. Every time he saw him, this man was just dancing. He was playing the music, he had the speaker at all times, and he was always dancing that whole weekend.
“He's the first person to be dancing off to the side, just having a great time, putting smiles on other people's faces,” Loyer said.
Tillman’s moves were well-documented, but the reviews are mixed.
“He dances like an old man,” Hoiberg said with a smile. “That's all I’ll say.”
“Nah, he can't dance,” Noyes said, laughing uncontrollably. “I'm messing with you. No, he's a better dancer than me. But that's not saying much.”
“That boy do love to dance,” said Roddy. “I mean, he solid at it. He got some rhythm. He got some footwork. But he got that goofiness to him, too. He don't take nothing too serious.”
That said, Tillman couldn’t disagree more with his ex-teammates and coaches.
“Yes, I'm a good dancer,” Tillman said with a smile, almost offended by the notion that he isn’t. “I don't know what they're talking about. I'm a great dancer.”
And why does Tillman dance, one might ask?
“I don't know. Who doesn't love to dance?”
Xavier Tillman is a family man first and a basketball player second
Tillman’s life as a basketball player and life as a person perfectly collide to make form one of the most well-liked guys on the roster. He never takes a day off, yet he’s always smiling. He’ll never leave the gym, yet he’ll never stop laughing.
Professionalism and goofiness perfectly intertwine at the core of Tillman's livelihood. Yet it all spirals back to his priorities. Because before Tillman is a hooper, he’s a father.
When Tillman was a senior in high school, he and his now-wife Tamia had their daughter, Ayanna. That’s when everything changed.
“Before I had her, I was a high school senior, and at that time, I was very prominent in my city playing basketball. Had a lot of notoriety. So for me, having her completely grounded me and made me realize what was important,” Tillman told Hardwood Houdini.
“I was a guy who wanted to hang out with my friends all the time. And I loved basketball, but I didn't work as hard as I could. I just did what was needed. And after she was born, I feel like I took everything up a notch in terms of my court work, and even my dedication to my wife, who was my girlfriend at the time. Just locking in more with her and letting her know that this is what I want long-term.”
At a young age, Tillman gained perspective that some don’t appreciate until years down the line. He entered his first year at Michigan State in a completely different headspace from those around him.
As his teammates were partying, hanging out after practice, and being college kids, Tillman was a fully established family man.
“He wasn't doing any of the b*******,” said Hoiberg. “He would go hang out with his family. He'd spend time with Tamia and always make time for them, and I think that's part of the reason why they've had such a successful relationship. Coming into college with a girl and with a kid, it's difficult. And he made it look easy.”
When Tillman wasn’t on the court or in the classroom, he was with his family. Even when it came time for post-practice meals, he made sure to skip out on the activities that came after.
His teammates planned nights out, but Tillman planned nights in. He ate his food, grabbed a to-go plate for his family, and split up TV time into two separate rooms.
“We were fortunate enough to have two TVs,” Tillman said. “We would put Yanni in the living room, and she would watch whatever Pixar movie. Moana or something like that. Coco or Trolls. And me and her would watch SVU in our room. We'd watch SVU and watch Olivia Benson just kick a**.
“That would be literally my day-to-day. Just go to school all day, do my homework during the day, then I'd practice and come home to my family.”
X and Tamia now have three kids together—Ayanna, Xavier Jr., and Leilani—and basketball has always been mission 1B for the former Spartan.
Tillman’s commitment to his family is well beyond his years, and that trend didn’t just stop at the collegiate level.
“When I met him, I'm like, 'This dude's got to be about 26.' He was 23 at the time,” Roddy said with a laugh. “Just having that maturity and that baseline level, I mean, he's just been such a professional.”
“He's such a family man,” Roddy said. “It's so crazy. Everywhere you go, his entire family's with him. His three little kids. Just him being the radiant person that he is around them is just great. And he's just such a welcoming spirit.”
‘Family first’ is more than just a saying to Tillman. It’s everything.
“I can honestly say it's the reason I am who I am today,” Tillman said. “All the changes that I made and stuff like that because of my family, I felt like it kind of made me purposeful, where each day I didn't wake up thinking, like, 'Okay, who am I?'
“It was more so, like, 'Alright, I'm a father, I'm a husband, I'm a son, I'm a brother, and I'm a basketball player as well.' So, it made it easy for me to stack it up versus trying to be somebody who I'm not.”
Since getting to Boston, Tillman’s morals and lifestyle have helped him fit in with a team that operates similarly.
“One of the first days I got here, I went to Joe's house, and my kids got to play with his sons, Manny and Mikey, and we kind of just gelled off the rip,” Tillman said.
The Celtics are a team full of dads. Mazzulla has a wife and two sons. Jayson Tatum has Deuce. Al Horford has five kids, including Ean, who is constantly around the team. Derrick White, Jrue Holiday, and now Sam Hauser. The roster is littered with guys who share the same principles as Tillman.
It’s part of the reason they emphasize a business-oriented approach.
NBA basketball often gets glorified as a larger-than-life endeavor. Hundreds of celebrities competing on the big screens every single night. But at the end of the day, it’s a job. Nothing more, nothing less.
That’s how Boston runs.
“Everybody knows that this is just a job, and we don't take it any more serious than that,” Tillman said. “A lot of times, basketball players, we put our all into this, and we take it home with us. But when you have a bunch of guys who are in the same situation, we all know that, like, 'Hey, man, maybe today just wasn't your day.’ But when you go home, it's always got to be your day.
“You always got to have that positive attitude for your family and that positive energy and got to be as helpful as you can through the day. So, I think because there's so many guys in similar situations, it's easy for us to come in here and work as hard as we can and leave it out here. Because when you take that shower, it's kind of just done.”
Just like his SVU nights at Michigan State, there is no room for Tillman to bring work home with him in Boston. Bad nights and minute-less games are left at the exit of TD Garden in favor of fatherhood.
It’s the same way he blends his work ethic with his constant joy. And it all stems from his dad, Roosevelt.
“It was my dad,” Tillman said. “My dad was a person who I watched as I was coming up. He could make anybody feel valued. Like [Dawson] said, 'Have a conversation with a fly,' my dad would be the type to, we always had a dog growing up, and you would think the dog was one of us the way that he had so much love and stuff like that.
“My dad was a person who could light up a room, and he had all eyes on him when he walked in, and he would make everybody feel so welcome that, for me, I knew as I was growing up, that's who I wanted to be. I wanted to be a person, no matter how much money I got, no matter how much status I had, I want to make everybody who I can touch and be in contact with feel valued, feel loved, feel cared about.”
Tillman’s father passed away in the playoffs last year. He missed Game 1 of the Eastern Conference finals but returned shortly after, eventually churning out the aforementioned Finals minutes that helped Boston clinch the title.
The loss struck Tillman to his core. He would sit and complete Sudoku puzzles before every game, writing messages to his father in the margins. He told Adam Himmelsbach of The Boston Globe that it was his way of talking to his dad. “I tell him how I’m feeling, how much I miss him, and other things like that. It’s just as if I’m having a conversation with him.”
But Tillman quickly what was one of the most tragic moments in his life turned into an important signal.
“It helped me refocus on what's most important,” he said. “I feel like when I went into free agency, I was losing it a little bit because I kept worrying about numbers and not necessarily about my family and doing what's most comfortable for them.
“I feel like, when he passed away, it made me realize [that] no matter what, my family is the most important. And not even just my immediate family, but my siblings and my mom and stuff like that.”
Xavier Tillman's on-court smarts are top-notch
All the roads, lessons, and trials have led Tillman to where he is today. A Celtic. Helping Boston forge their path to Banner 19. Hoping to become the first set of repeat champions since the Warriors in 2017 and 2018.
Four years after his rookie-season battle to earn a rotation spot, Tillman is back in the exact same spot. And he has more than just a team-first attitude on his side.
For all the shooting struggles and slumps Tillman has gone through on both ends, he’s still one of the smartest players on the court whenever he graces the hardwood.
“He knew the scout. He knew the coverages that we were supposed to be in. He was always so locked in from a scouting perspective,” Loyer said of their time at Michigan State.
“He knew what his matchup wanted to do, and he knew what every other matchup wanted to do as well because he got to the point where he was so good at switching, and that's what's allowed him to play the five a lot in the NBA.”
Tillman’s defense on Doncic helped the Celtics hang on to win Game 3 of the NBA Finals, and that performance was far from a fluke.
“The dude, in my opinion, and you can put this on record—I think he's one of the best one-on-one big-man defenders in the league,” said Noyes. “He works his a** off on defense. He'll pay attention to the scout. He'll do everything he can.”
And even when he’s lacking in a certain area, Tillman is the first to get to work and solve the issue.
“He works on his game unlike anyone else,” Roddy said. “He's so attentive to his craft, and he always wants to be better.”
Since getting to Boston, Tillman has been heralded as a potential Al Horford replacement down the line. His preseason surge fueled that belief, but the regular season has calmed the tides a bit.
Tillman’s defensive knowledge is as elite as it gets, but if he wants to shoot like Horford, he’ll need to relocate his rhythm.
That’s something he and coach DJ MacLeay work at every day.
Defense is a matter of film.
“The defensive on-ball is something that goes hand-in-hand with what you do in the weight room and then the film you watch,” Tillman said. “You don't really get in a drill and work on specific stuff like that.”
Shooting is more Allen Iverson—all about practice.
“Three-point shooting a lot of just reps,” said Tillman. “First, you shoot a couple to see what your form is and how you can best improve it, and then once you figure out how you can best improve it, now you're repping it out, repping it out, to where you don't even have to think anymore. You can close your eyes and shoot the same way.
“Me and DMac, we worked a lot, a lot, a lot on that aspect of just getting more and more shots up and feeling more and more comfortable. And then eventually, where we got to live play, he said, 'You did all the work now, now you're gonna be mad at yourself if you don't shoot it. Now we won't have anything to watch film on.' So, he's pretty good at helping me keep my perspective.”
Queta’s emergence has bumped Tillman down the depth chart, but he’ll get his moment in the sun this year. And when he does, the skills that he’s worked tirelessly on behind the scenes will come to light once again.
“I think he can impact a championship rotation. I really do,” said Noyes. “And I know in Boston, he's going to be able to shoot the three ball, and he's going to put the work in, and he's going to turn into such a great player, whether it's for that organization for a decade or anywhere in the league.”
Practicing with Porzingis got Tillman back in action, if only for a fleeting moment. It wasn’t a real game. It wasn’t even against NBA players. But it was action.
“Being basically out of the rotation, it was good to go and really play and just get my flow and my rhythm,” Tillman told Manning.
Heading into the Celtics’ game against the Washington Wizards on November 22, Tillman hasn’t logged more than 10 minutes since Boston’s first four contests. It’s been a steady decline, aided by Queta’s impressive growth.
But again, this isn’t new for Tillman. And it’s not going to send him spiraling.
In lieu of NBA minutes, Tillman’s off-the-court impact will not waver. He’s had a great connection with the Celtics from the moment he stepped onto the tarmac in Boston, and it’s been that way at every stop of his basketball career.
“I'm happier for X than anybody of all those guys that made it to the league that I played with just because of the basketball purist that he is and how much he loves it and respects the game and values it,” Hoiberg said. “So, yeah, he was always a great personality in the locker room.”
Tillman spreads joy everywhere he goes, and when he’s gone, it knocks the wind out of the room.
“I think if you asked anyone in that locker room, 'Who was the best teammate?,’ everyone would probably say Xavier Tillman,” said Penn. “X was loved by everybody.”
He checks every box, but more importantly, he checks them in the right order. Family man—check. Person—check. Teammate—check. Basketball player—check.
“Xavier's a human,” said Noyes. “And I know the media, I know fans, I know the league, they try to make out these guys to be celebrities, and Xavier deserves all the credit in the world, but at the end of the day, he's just a good person. He's a good dad, he's a good husband, and to me, I can say it now that I don't coach him anymore, he's a good friend.”
When Porzingis heals up, there will be even fewer minutes available for Tillman to vie for. There’s no telling when his next chance to step onto the court will be. And when that time comes, anything could happen.
But trying to predict the future won’t accomplish anything.
Tillman’s head is in the right place in every aspect of his life. So when it comes to basketball, all he has to do is play.
“He's a hungry, humble, respectful player,” said Dawson. “He's always willing to learn. Open to learning. Very coachable. Loves the game of basketball, obviously, but he puts in the work off the court and on the court as well.
“And whenever his number is called, he's there. That's just X. If a coach tells him, 'If you run through this wall, we gonna win,’ that's what X is gonna do.”