It was the 2015 playoffs, Memphis, and the Trail Blazers' bus was idling in front of the team hotel. A steady stream of players, coaches and support staff had boarded for the past 20 minutes, yet for the last five minutes, nary a soul had approached the steps.

Still, the bus remained idling. Brake lights glowing. Engine chortling. Exhaust billowing toward Beale Street.

And it remained idling ... and idling ... and idling ... for a good five minutes.

Finally, the brake lights relented. The driver spotted what he was waiting on: From the hotel, LaMarcus Aldridge emerged, giant headphones over his ears. When he boarded, the bus immediately went into gear and headed toward the arena.

What struck me when I watched that scene, and what I've thought about often since then, is this: I wonder what Damian Lillard was thinking as he waited on that bus?

And later, as Lillard flew home with his teammates from Memphis, I wonder what he thought when he looked and discovered that Aldridge had taken his own flight home the night prior?

Those thoughts bring us back to today: July 4, 2015, a day that will stand for many things in Blazers history. It's the day Aldridge left for the San Antonio Spurs. The day the franchise became Lillard's. The first day of yet another rebuild.

But it will also mark one of the biggest organizational exhales ever.

See, inside the Trail Blazers, there is a collective sigh of relief knowing Aldridge is not returning.

Don't get me wrong: Everybody wanted him back in Portland; his talent made the Blazers a better team.

But from the front office to the marketing department to the game-day support staff, there was a general exhaustion with Aldridge. Massaging an ego so often, for so many years, can take its toll.

If there was a nick, a bump, or a bruise, Aldridge always wanted an MRI, prompting one former staffer to quip it was a good thing owner Paul Allen was rich enough to cover the frequent expense.

Until this season, when he postponed a surgery on his non-shooting hand to help the Blazers make a playoff push, Aldridge was constantly looking for a reason to sit out games, particularly if it was after his status as an All-Star had been cemented that season.

He could be a sweet guy. He bought a luxury suite at the Moda Center for the kids at the St. Mary's Home for Boys. And he periodically surprised employees with gifts.

But he was so bitter about perceived slights that happened nine years ago - 9 years! - and so insistent that he was always getting the short end of the stick that the entire organization walked on egg shells around him.

The Blazers were so concerned with Aldridge's sensitivity of feeling overlooked that it sent a memo to the marketing department. All commercial and publicity projects were to first run through Aldridge. When the NBA Cares commercial came through Portland this year, Aldridge turned down the opportunity. So second choice went to Damian Lillard, who did the shoot.

Once it aired nationally throughout NBA broadcasts, Aldridge became chaffed and took it as another example of Lillard being the franchise's darling.

The Aldridge-Lillard tension was real ... and created entirely by Aldridge's insecurity. Lillard is bright and polite, and sensed Aldridge's delicate ego. As a result, he always went out of his way to compliment Aldridge, and to trumpet that the Blazers were Aldridge's team, Aldridge's franchise.

Lillard's public acquiescence was not enough for Aldridge's camp. They felt the kid needed to bow to Aldridge in person. They wanted Lillard to say it to his face.

So as he sat on that bus in the middle of a playoff series where both he and Aldridge were under performing, Lillard's mind could have been drifting toward some ugly thoughts.

This week, I think Lillard gave us a pretty good idea what was going through his head at that moment.

It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't spite. And it wasn't ego.

I guarantee you Lillard was thinking about the team. Just as he was this week when he phoned Aldridge in Los Angeles to clear the air. Before Aldridge made a decision, Lillard wanted him to know what he thought of him as a teammate, and what he thought they could accomplish together.

While Aldridge spent much of the past nine seasons worrying whether he was being treated fairly, Lillard has worried about nothing but winning since he's been in Portland.

That's why I've always said the Blazers are in great hands even if Aldridge leaves. Sure, the Blazers will take a step back next season. Perhaps even a big step back. But in terms of leadership and a singular focus on winning, this team is in better shape with Lillard.

The easy, and cheap, dagger to throw lately has been Lillard doesn't play defense and is consumed with selling shoes. And it's true: Lillard needs to work on his defense, and he is the first to admit that. And it's true, he spent the past two weeks in Asia and France promoting Adidas shoes. But the critics fail to note the evidence between the appearances: his sweat-soaked shorts in daily, sometimes twice daily, workouts.

The kid busts his tail. And more than anything else, he cares. But it's what he cares about that matters: he cares about the Blazers and about winning.

He doesn't care about making sure everybody knows he's the star, which is how Aldridge frequently making the entire team wait was interpreted. And I dare to venture Lillard would never fly home separate from the team in a playoff series, distancing himself from his brothers and eliminating the opportunity to gameplan or discuss adjustments needed in a series he trailed 0-2.

So yeah, it was a bad day in Portland. One of the longest tenured players in franchise history chose to leave, taking with him one playoff series victory, which happened to be sealed by Lillard. I wish it didn't come to this, because I had come to respect Aldridge immensely for his growth as a player, and I appreciated the level of relevance his play afforded the Blazers.

So mourn today, Rip City. But tomorrow, move on. It's a new era, with a new face of the franchise.

It's why moments after Aldridge tweeted his decision I texted Lillard.

"Your team now. Excited to see what you do with it. I have no doubts you are ready,'' I wrote.

His response was two words:

"I am.''

--Jason Quick | jquick@oregonian.com | @jwquick