Kevin Garnett's booming voice echoed across the gym. His tone sounded irritable, almost combustible.
A group of Timberwolves players were scrimmaging that morning in September 2001, an informal gathering a few days after the 9/11 terrorist attacks.
I stopped by Target Center to gauge the Wolves' concerns about traveling to Europe in early October for preseason games. The goal was to talk to Garnett, if possible.
No dice.
Something in the scrimmage made him spitting mad. The reason remained unclear, but he screamed and boiled like a kettle of hot water. He scowled as he walked off the court toward the locker room.
That was my first glimpse of Garnett's volcanic intensity behind closed doors. The youngsters that make up the current Wolves roster will get to experience it soon enough, a jolt that veteran guard Kevin Martin promised would turn the locker room "upside down."
"It's going to be a shock to the older guys [too]," coach Flip Saunders said.
Garnett's competitive spirit has been revisited and romanticized since news broke of his homecoming. Few understand his fury as much as former teammate Wally Szczerbiak.