The Jazz needed a basket to stave off a Rockets comeback attempt late in Game 1. Andrei Kirilenko was posting up down low, and Deron Williams was motioning for every other Jazz player to clear out so he and his main man could do their business, which is exactly what they did. Bounce pass to Kirilenko for two of the most blessed 21 points he's ever scored.

But Williams was just as pleased.

There the two of them were, combining to do in the same playoff opponent on the same floor in nearly the same situation where one year ago Kirilenko busted a pipe in his plumbing and melted into an emotional blob.

Actually, that crash came the day after Game 1 - in that instance, a loss - on a Sunday morning, on the identical court in the Toyota Center, when Kirilenko infamously gave a rare glimpse of fragility - china in a bull shop - from an NBA player, a former All-Star, who wanted to contribute more to his team. At least that's what he appeared to want.

"I have no confidence," Kirilenko said that day, blaming Jerry Sloan for the way he'd been utilized. "None. No. Hell, no."

You know the other quotes.

Kirilenko, right or wrong, was at wit's end. He said he wanted to touch the ball more, be more involved in the offense, not be relegated to a role as a decoy jump-shooter.

Williams reacted to those comments after the season ended with a rightful jab at his teammate.

"You see guys, see Booze, after practice shooting for 25, 30 minutes, you see Memo shooting for 20 minutes, you see all the rookies, all the young guys, in there working, and you see Andrei being the first one out the door," Williams said. "If he's coming off a screen on one side and Matt Harpring's coming off a screen on one side, who you think you're going to pass it to? You think you're going to pass it to the guy who you see working every day in the gym or you going to pass it to the guy who never works on his shot but wants to shoot it every time?"

The present

Fast forward to the Sunday morning after this time - yesterday - and Williams now has grown more comfortable not only with Kirilenko's contributions but also the effort that got him there.

"His confidence is at a different level," said Williams, the Jazz's undisputed leader and mouthpiece. "He's being aggressive. He's shooting the ball well. He's playing with energy on both ends of the floor. He's working hard. He's always in the gym now. It's helping him out."

It's helping the Jazz out.

"We definitely need him," Williams said. "[In Game 1], we were looking for him."

Pouring more gas on the burning blaze of irony, Kirilenko, on Sunday, sat in the same courtside seat where he blew apart last year. This time, he was much less emotional. He seemed satisfied, but still not completely happy.

Kirilenko talked about the "good matchups" in the series and the "team's confidence." When questions came his way about the personal transformation he's undergone, Kirilenko was cryptic.

"I'm definitely more comfortable," he said. "I can't measure it. . . . It's a different feeling."

Was his relationship with Sloan different?

"Definitely."

Could he elaborate?

"It's already been said enough."

Was there a time when basketball was no longer fun?

"Definitely."

Have you changed?

"Definitely. I'm taking it a little less serious."

The questions droned on.

'Bad questions'

After most of the gang of reporters had scattered, the session got juicier when Kirilenko was asked what he thought about the criticism that had been aimed at him last year after everything that happened in the playoffs and over the offseason, when he proclaimed to the world that he wanted out of Utah.

"I never really care what public thinks," he said. "I don't care about that."

What about your teammates, and their criticism?

"Everybody has their own opinion," he said. "Sometimes people don't know the whole [story]. . . . We're like a family. I don't have any problems with it. We're friends."

When Kirilenko was asked if he thought he would be with the Jazz next year at this time, he responded: "I have three more years on my contract. That's what I have. I have no control over that."

Is that the way you want it? Do you want to be here?

"You're asking bad questions," he said.

Maybe all that matters to most is that Kirilenko is helping the Jazz win big games, again, that he is relevant to the team the way he once was.

He's doing his job.

But there is more to his whole deal than is being told.

He doesn't really want to be with the Jazz, even though he can abide it by way of an odd kind of emotional detachment. He gets a bigger kick out of playing for the Russian national team. He's not close to many of his teammates. That's OK, as long as he keeps giving the Jazz what they want on the court. A lot of great teams haven't exactly sat around the campfire singing songs and giving communal hugs.

Still, there's a sadness to Kirilenko's plight. His early years with the Jazz were filled with adjustments, him coming from Russia and getting a grip on everything America and all things NBA, but there was excitement and innocence and happiness, too.

Now, there's some satisfaction. Kirilenko seemed as buoyant as he's been at any time over the last two years in the locker room after his considerable success in Game 1 on Saturday night.

But mostly there's resolution.

He's playing for the Jazz because his contract has him here, and he has no control over that now. He makes a boatload of money, more than he should based on what he brings most nights. He's probably OK with that. Still, the Jazz have big contracts to extend to other key players in the near future. Do they even want Kirilenko at his heavy cost?

The most compelling questions, then, will come in the months ahead, from both directions. If the Jazz make a deep run in the playoffs or win a championship, and he has a significant hand in it, will that bring contentment to Kirilenko here?

Or will it make him want to leave, even more?

And if it does, will the Jazz care?

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GORDON MONSON hosts "The Big Show" weekdays from 3-7 p.m. on 1280 AM The Zone. He can be reached at gmonson@sltrib.com.