When his name was called, after an interminable pause by the commissioner who wanted to be certain he pronounced it right, Deron Williams' first hug went to his mother, seated to his right.
The next went to his longtime girlfriend, flanking him on the left, their pretty little daughter, the sunshine of his days, seated in her lap.
There was a handshake and a pat on the head for the young half-brother who adores him so, a hug from behind and a kiss on the face for grandma.
With that, Deron — it's DARE-in, as David Stern correctly pronounced, but countless others have not — strolled to the stage at Madison Square Garden in New York, his dark pinstriped coat as conservative as the values he respects, the orange-accented tie a respectful nod to Illini-nation fans from the University of Illinois.
That very second, at precisely 15 minutes past 8 o'clock in the Eastern time zone Tuesday night, his life changed. So did that of those he loves. But, because of the guidance and influence of one woman in particular, the alteration for Williams may be almost as minor as a nip here and a tuck there from the tailor who produced his suit.
"I never think about it. Never. Unless somebody asks, you know?" Williams, who turned 21 just a week ago, said when quizzed about his father. "My mom — she's my mom and my dad."
If Williams has his way, and more than just his NBA career with the Jazz goes as planned, Denae will never have to say the same.
He was born in West Virginia — Parkersburg, one of West Virginia's larger cities, yet a town so tiny (current population, 33,000 or so) that public officials track all of its trees online.
Williams' mother, Denise Smith, played basketball and volleyball at West Liberty State College, farther up the Ohio River and over on the other side of Wheeling. So did his aunt, Judy Ward.
His father, Byron Williams, also was an athlete — at West Liberty State, as well.
But it was Smith who wrestled with him for the first time, he says. It was Smith who taught him to D-up. It was Smith who taught him the value of passing over points.
"She's a good person. She loves me and my little brother a lot," Deron Williams said of he and 12-year-old Kendall Jones. "She's taken care of us. . . . She's a pretty strong woman."
His stepfather, Williams said, "was in and out."
His own father? Mostly out, by Williams' account.
"He was never in my life, really," Williams said. "He came back just a little when I was 8, for like a couple of months."
Then, poof.
"He left," Williams said, "and I haven't seen him since."
Williams suggests he is numb to the pain: "I don't even think about it." One senses, though, that beneath the surface there may be more hurt than he lets on.
If his father has tried to make contact any time recently, Williams does not know about it. "I haven't heard from him." If he intends to try to establish a relationship now that his son is a multimillionaire, Deron does not know about that, either.
"I'm waiting for it, though," Williams said. "So I can laugh at him."
When he was young, Williams and his mother Denise moved to the Dallas area. There were summer visits to the grandparents in West Virginia, but Texas became home.
Eventually, they moved to a Dallas suburb called The Colony. He played his high school hoops there.
At The Colony High School, Williams was not the star. Bracey Wright was.
Wright, who would go on to play his college ball at Indiana, got a majority of the praise. Williams lived largely in the shadows.
"I never cared," he said. "I never cared about individual accolades. I was always happy for him, because he deserved it. I was happy for him the whole time."
While Wright was wooed by the storied Hoosiers, Williams — his inclination to consider Georgia Tech dashed when a well-traveled point named Jarrett Jack decided to go there — went with Indiana's Big Ten baby-brother Illinois.
Early on at Illinois, the story was much the same.
Dee Brown and Luther Head garnered more attention, scored more points than Williams did his freshman season.
As a sophomore, the season he missed just three games despite a double-fracture in his jaw, Williams emerged to lead the Illini in both assists and scoring.
But as a junior, with the Illini advancing to the NCAA title game earlier this year before falling to North Carolina, he stepped back into something of a back-seat role: Brown was the consensus first-team All-American, Williams was second-team.
With time, though, Williams gained the confidence he has now.
It's the same faith that allows him to believe he can live up to the franchise-savior billing he received when the Jazz traded three first-round draft picks to Portland last Tuesday morning, all so they could move up from No. 6 to No. 3 in the draft and secure the point they've so desperately craved ever since all-time NBA assists and steals leader John Stockton retired in 2003.
Truth be told, Williams really didn't mind doing most of the dishing while Brown and Head reaped the rewards.
The reasons: He knew deep down who was watching, and he remembered what Smith had taught him about passing vs. points.
"I did the same thing I was doing in high school. It's just that people that really count started noticing," Williams said. "I was always highly regarded (by) college coaches. They wanted me. They knew what I could do. Maybe not fans.
"Same thing in college. NBA scouts, and people that know basketball, know what I do for a team. Sometimes, the common fans — they don't understand what I do. Because they want the people that score 20 points a game. If I have six points and 10, 11 assists, then I have 'a bad game' — but I dominated the game. I don't have to score."
As it turns out, Dee Brown wound up breaking his foot during pre-draft workouts and will return for another season at Illinois. Bracey Wright, who some thought came out too early despite a solid career at Indiana, went No. 47 in the second round to Minnesota. Luther Head was taken No. 24 in the first round by Houston. And Georgia Tech's Jarrett Jack went No. 22 to Denver, before being traded to Portland, the fourth point guard taken in the draft.
Williams?
He was the first point to go, earning a soon-to-be-signed rookie contract guaranteed to be worth roughly $7 million over the next two years.
Good thing, too.
Even before he was drafted, Williams made a major purchase. It's a Lincoln Navigator, custom painted.
"I wanted a nice car," he said.
There may be a few other toys, too, for the kid who's had two snakes and a pit bull for pets.
Williams knows Smith is worried about how her boy will handle all the money.
"Typical mom," he said.
But he has bigger concerns.
"I'm worried about how she's going to handle it," Williams jokes. "I've got good people around me. I've got a budget. I'm saving a lot of money every year from my contract."
Really, though, it's no laughing matter.
About a year and a half ago, Denise Smith — a computer programmer — lost her job. Eventually, she lost her house in The Colony as well. She was able to live in it for a while, but the bank, as Williams explains it, took over payments.
"She kept looking for jobs, and she filed bankruptcy," Williams said. "In December, she got another job. In Indianapolis. So, she moved out there — because she wanted to see the rest of my games. She knew it was going to be my last year."
Though not if she had her way.
When his mother found herself out of work, during his sophomore season, Williams considered turning pro then.
A coach talked him out of it: "He said that shouldn't be the reason I go," Williams said.
Smith agreed, and went a step farther.
"She didn't want me to leave this year," he said. "She wanted me to stay and get my degree."
Twenty-two hours and one internship shy of a bachelor's degree in sports management, Williams for one of the first times in his life decided not to heed his mother's advice.
He struck when the iron was hot, turning pro at just the right time.
As soon as the money starts rolling in from the new contract, Williams said, he plans to help his mother repurchase control of her home.
Williams really does want to make sure his mother his well taken care of. Smith, after all, did just that for him.
But there is yet another woman in his life to watch over. Denae is nearly 2 1/2, born in February of Williams' freshman season at Illinois.
"That's my little girl," Williams said. "She's the most beautiful little thing in the world."
Denae's mother, Amy Young, has been Williams' girlfriend for the past seven years. "I've known her since second grade," he said.
Young and Denae, however, did not move from Texas to Illinois to be with Deron until this past season.
"The first two years were hard, because I would always miss stuff with my daughter," he said. "First words. The first steps."
Now, Williams hopes, he, the daughter who means "everything" to him and the girlfriend he has had for so long will all call Utah home for years to come.
"I just want her to be around me, and to grow up with a father," Williams said of Denae. "I don't want her to grow up in the same situation that I grew up in."
E-mail: tbuckley@desnews.com