Millsap played his heart out, as Jerry Sloan put it.

Still, there was no hint of a smile, no whiff of satisfaction of any sort after a career game in which Carlos Boozer's backup successfully floated jumpers and finished post moves, sweated up a lather on defense and relentlessly hit the boards.

Just concern about the vulnerable status of his team.

After a recent loss at home to the Miami Heat, Millsap, having scored 20 points and hauled 13 boards on that occasion, demonstrated the same demeanor, not surly, not unpleasant, but dismayed by the outcome, and unwilling to brush aside the result or make excuses for it.

"You need five guys out there all on the same page," he said.

"Everybody can focus. If you focus, you focus; if you don't, you're out of it."

Millsap focuses.

Since Boozer's been gone for 14 games on account of a strained left quadriceps tendon and bruised knee, his 23-year-old replacement has reeled in 12 consecutive double-doubles, and been as steady as a plow horse. Exactly where the 15-11 Jazz would be without him is somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon Line or the Mendoza Line or the line between mediocrity and hanging on for dear life.

People keep saying Millsap is no Boozer.

And they're right.

Boozer is wine-and-cheese, a "would you happen to have any Grey Poupon?" all-star, a 20-and-10 guy who collects those numbers almost without anyone noticing, which is rare for a power forward. He's a terrific offensive player, at least when the sun is shining. He also has a knack for not playing defense, and for suffering injuries, the type of injuries that leave all kinds of wiggle room for determining when he's coming back.

There was the foot problem of a few years ago, the one that he pronounced healed and ready -- on the season's last day. Then there was the hamstring that ate Salt Lake, benching Boozer over an extended period and prompting questions about whether he wanted out of the freshly devoured city. And now, the strained tendon and bruised kneecap, which, at times, feels "great," but apparently not yet great enough to play.

In all of those scenarios, Boozer put the Jazz and their fans in a precarious spot, forcing them to wonder about his toughness, his softness. With injuries, nobody can know with certainty about their status except the player himself, but everybody can suspect. And Boozer left everyone with their suspicions, sometimes stirring, sometimes cranking them.

He talked in vague tones and often missed opportunities to reestablish his commitment to his team via declarative statements.

All of that, of course, being backdropped by his dubious departure from Cleveland, the move that screwed over the Cavs, enabling him to cash in with the Jazz.

Exacerbating matters now is Boozer's contract, which allows him to opt out after this season and further conjures the notion that he is primarily looking out for his own economic interests, not the Jazz's competitive concerns. Although he doesn't have to opt out, and he could wait another year to become a free agent, thereby richly benefiting as some team's fallback plan in the bidding war for LeBron -- or some other superstar -- he has 100 million things on his mind.

Millsap, who is the lowest-paid player on the Jazz, definitely will shake free at season's end, and he, too, stands to make more money, here or elsewhere, than he'll ever be able to spend. But the vibe he sends is different, and it has a positive effect on the whole team. He's a plumber in a soiled jumpsuit, stopping leaks and clearing clogs, laboring and acting as though he actually cares about the house in which he's working.

Point is, he more snugly fits the Jazz mold.

And if the Jazz cannot afford, according to their own set limitations, both Boozer and Millsap at year's end, the question isn't who is the better player. It's who is a smarter value.

Boozer at more than double the price, or Millsap at less than half the price? Especially since the Jazz have the new Deron Williams contract to absorb and other players to sign and re-sign.

The answer to that question is becoming clear.

Millsap is the real deal.

Boozer is an enigma.

"Paul Millsap works hard," says Sloan. "He's come around because of his effort. He fights for the ball out there. He's improved because he's worked at it. He shows up and plays."

Boozer does that last part, too, at least on sunshiny days, when he feels 100 percent.

GORDON MONSON hosts "The Monson and Graham Show" weekdays from 2-6 p.m. on 1280 AM The Zone. He can be reached at gmonson@sltrib.com