Not Jayson Tatum’s Surgery but This Celtics Locker Room Incident Changed Everything for Derrick White & Co

The Boston Celtics were supposed to be done. Their season, broken—just like Jayson Tatum’s Achilles. The star forward ruptured it late in Game 4, and in that single moment, the narrative shifted. Done in five, some said. Time to talk trades, others whispered. The silence after the final buzzer in that game? Deafening.

Inside that locker room, something unspoken shifted. No one flinched. They watched film, assessed the wreckage, and came to a quiet consensus, not to mourn what was lost, but to lean into what remained. No one needed convincing. The message was in the looks they exchanged, not in any pregame pep talk. But silence doesn’t last long in Boston. Not when there’s belief still sitting in the locker room. And certainly not with Jayson Tatum’s absence.

Derrick White didn’t hear any of that noise, literally. “I didn’t hear nothing,” he said postgame. “I mean, just always talk… the good talk, the bad talk, I try to just block it all out.” The Celtics could have unraveled, could have given in to the grief and fatigue. Instead, they chose defiance.

“We came in yesterday, watched film, and kind of looked each other in the eye as ready to go,” White added. No need for dramatic speeches. Just eye contact. Mutual accountability. A moment of silence that didn’t come from defeat, but determination. But what’s happening in Boston now? That’s more than just a reaction to an injury. It’s a team looking each other in the eye and deciding they weren’t done. Not yet.

That moment shifted something. Suddenly, Game 5 was less about survival and more about making a statement. And Derrick White made the loudest one. He poured in clutch buckets, set the tone defensively, and turned up the volume on a team that many thought had gone mute.

White also opened up about the personal weight of watching Jayson Tatum go down. “Obviously it’s tough to see,” he said. “I texted him and… just told him that we believe in him and know that he’s going to have a great comeback from this setback.”

Jayson Tatum’s absence in Game 5 and what it means for the Celtics’ Game 6 vs the Knicks

For now, Tatum’s comeback is far on the horizon. He underwent successful surgery on May 13 and is out for the playoffs, with his status for the start of next season uncertain. And yet, somehow, Game 5 didn’t feel like a team in mourning. It felt like the beginning of something else.

Losing Jayson Tatum isn’t just losing a star player. It’s losing the engine that makes the Celtics run, the guy who carries the offensive load and ignites the defense. The team knows the path ahead just got steeper — but it also means they have no choice but to dig deeper, find new heroes, and play with a fire that comes from pure necessity.

Joe Mazzulla had a decision to make, too—not just about schemes or subs, but tone. With Jayson Tatum out, he turned to Kristaps Porziņģis, who’s been struggling through illness since March. He’d come off the bench in the last three games, but Mazzulla put him in the starting five for Game 5.

Porziņģis, who hadn’t looked himself lately, still suited up despite clearly not being well. KP played 12 gritty minutes, scoring just one point, but his presence said more than his stat line ever could. “He couldn’t breathe. He was available if absolutely necessary,” Mazzulla explained. Turns out, KP thought it was necessary. The two mutually decided at halftime to shut him down, but his willingness to take the floor did not go unnoticed. That kind of presence echoes louder than any box score.

The Celtics responded to that energy. They steamrolled the Knicks 127–102 in Game 5. Boston’s bench showed up, the ball movement returned, and the defense finally clamped down despite Jayson Tatum’s presence. This was pure recalibration. New York, on the other hand, stumbled. Outside of Hart’s 24 points and 7 assists, it was an uneven effort. Towns shot just 19 points, and the Knicks struggled to generate consistent offense against Boston’s aggressive switching and pressure.

Now it’s Game 6 on the deck. And the vibes? Very different from what they were two nights ago. The Celtics are no strangers to pressure, but this feels like a turning point. One that wasn’t sparked by a miracle shot, but by a simple look. A mutual agreement that whatever happens, they’d go down swinging.

So yeah, Jayson Tatum’s injury was devastating. But it wasn’t the end. It might’ve just been the spark. Game 6 won’t be easy. The Garden will roar, the Knicks will punch back, and Boston will have to dig deeper than ever. But make no mistake: they’ve already decided how this ends. Eyes locked, backs against the wall, nothing to lose. That shared look in the locker room? It wasn’t just a moment. It was a promise.