Donning his game jersey, and white sleeves he wears in games, Matthews watches the Blazers play the Rockets the night of his surgery. Here, he celebrates a Meyers Leonard three-pointer.

The reunion

Two houses from the Pacific Ocean and the sands of Hermosa Beach, a sliding glass door opens and Matthews emerges, on crutches and sporting a new red and black cast.

Before he steps into the bright California sun, he passes two notable objects: His red wheelchair, pushed against the curtains and looking like an abandoned car, and more curiously, a black suitcase.

He is no longer dependent on the wheelchair after a March 31 doctor appointment, which revealed more good news. His stitches were removed, and the incision where his Achilles was reattached continues to heal.

He was fitted with his third cast, and this one allows him to bear weight, although he admits he has been forgetful to test his newly granted freedom because he is so used to strict orders to keep his leg elevated.

Originally, the plan was to have Matthews in this cast until April 21, after which he would graduate to a walking boot. But after Tuesday's exam, Dr. Ferkel was so impressed, the date has been moved. His final cast will now come off on April 16.

For Matthews, who has made a career of overcoming the expectations of others, this was another victory.

"Shaved off a week," he says proudly. "See. Told you. Told you. Already cut a week off."

He has been at this posh Hermosa Beach rental home since March 19, and it has been the epicenter of what he calls his "team" of support. His agent, Jeff Austin, lives two houses down, and his mom, his uncle Cory and friend Jerard Ajami have created a bustling and comfortable environment.

The future, once filled with so many questions and fears, has never looked brighter.

"When you put your mind to something and you have your team around you, it's hard to be afraid of anything," Matthews says.

But his "other" team, the one he goes to battle with, the one he shares a unique and unbreakable bond with, has not been around. The Trail Blazers have been engaged in a fierce battle for homecourt advantage in the playoffs while trying to secure their first division crown in six years.

"I miss it," Matthews says. "I miss them."

He has been on only two NBA teams -- he spent his rookie season with Utah -- but he has spent a lifetime on various athletic teams. He says he has never felt closer to a group than this Blazers team.

"This is the most homey a team has felt to me," Matthews says. "It feels comfortable."

He has felt deeply "rooted" to the franchise for the past two years, but something happened this season that changed his outlook. He says he feels cemented. He says he feels like it is the place he is supposed to be, with the people he is supposed to be around.

"I truly feel like it's my team in that way," Matthews says.

He has been in contact with much of the team since his injury, and many of the players -- LaMarcus Aldridge, Steve Blake, CJ McCollum, Meyers Leonard among them -- have peppered him with text messages.

"I don't feel disconnected at all, because it has been a two-way street," Matthews says. "Them reaching out to me, and me reaching out to them showing my support."

He says he doesn't figure to make an appearance at the Moda Center until the playoffs because his doctor doesn't want him at the games in his cast. The playoffs are scheduled to start April 18, two days after his cast removal.

"It's almost scripted," Matthews says.

He hopes his fighting mentality helps the Blazers, and he hopes he is able to put their concerns about his recovery at ease by being around. But more than anything, he hopes he can send a deeper, more lasting message.

"I want to remind everyone what a blessing it is just to play," Matthews says. "Whether you have a bad shooting night or get X-amount of minutes, or whatever it is, you are not in a cast with your leg up. You get to play. And if you don't play in the game, at least you get to expend your energy in practice and get better. I want them to remember that."

Dispatches from Iron Man Friday, April 3, 11 p.m.

He plans to start attending practices, getting in his own workouts before the Blazers arrive. He will dribble while in his wheelchair and sit under the basket and work on his touch around the rim.

"This isn't a vacation to me. This isn't off time," Matthews said. "I'm going to attack when I can attack, like it's a game. Because this is my game now."

Then he leaves the sunshine and goes back through the sliding glass doors, once again passing that black suitcase.

On Friday night, the suitcase will leave. And so, too, will Iron Man.

When the Blazers are done playing the Lakers on Friday in Los Angeles, they will board their team plane and find a familiar face. Matthews will have already boarded, and will fly back to Portland with his teammates.

His body may not yet be healed, and the unknown of rehabilitation is still hovering. But as his teammates board the plane, he knows his soul will be complete. He will be back with the boys. Back with the team. Back home. And another step closer to being rebuilt.

"For me, it's going to be like, 'Finally,'" Matthews says. "Because this is where I'm most comfortable. This is where I'm supposed to be."