Michael Redd was pressed for time, being that practice with the Bucks in Milwaukee had run long. He had an appointment in Chicago, and refused to be late.

He hustled into the car, onto the Interstate heading south and was soon stepping inside Jerry Colangelo’s hotel suite, carrying a long garment bag.

“Will you excuse me a minute?” he said.

Colangelo waved him off. “You don’t have to change,” he said.

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