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The Heat came ready to defend against the Atlanta Hawks. But nobody planned on the Atlanta Hawk. (Photo by Doug Benc/Getty Images)

On Monday I wrote about game operations trouble in Atlanta.

The Hawks are famous for having various snafus with the scorekeeping and timing team (and there were some garden variety referee corrections of such things yesterday -- and at least on my TV, the clock never ran for the last 6.4 seconds of the game. It was still and still, as the players dribbled out the clock, and then the horn sounded and it was at zero). But a couple of new complaints: Did you notice the strobe lights in a luxury box behind one of the baskets? Really? Strobe lights? It was like some kind of dance party. And then ... of course ... there was a leak? In the roof? Right on to the court where the NBA playoffs are in progress? You get one such party foul, Hawks. Another one, and David Stern's paratroopers will be securing the building before Game 5.

I realize there are real people who have real jobs taking care of these things. I realize there are extenuating circumstances -- the ownership group is all messed up, the attendance is low ... Who knows what the root cause of such trouble may be? So I felt a little bad about causing hassle for whoever it is that runs all that kind of stuff.

But in fairness, I was nice! I didn't even mention the final portion of a game that had to be replayed because the Atlanta scorekeeper said (then) Miami's Shaquille O'Neal had six fouls -- enough that you are kicked out of the game -- when in fact he had just five.

Anyway, Wednesday night's Heat at Hawks game takes the game ops cake.

There we are, with 9:44 left in the first quarter, and Spirit the Hawk -- an actual live Hawk in the habit of swooping from the rafters during introductions -- landed on the basket support, but well away from play.

A little weird, perhaps, but not without novelty value.

Then with 9:17 left, just after Josh Smith had poked the ball out of bounds, play was briefly stopped as Spirit swooped around, freaking everybody out. Some fans ducked, needlessly, as he is a very precise bird and was easily a dozen feet above their heads. This time, he came to rest on top a remote-control TV camera mounted atop the shot clock, as you can see above.

NBA referees might stop a game for a bald eagle or an osprey. But this was a Harris Hawk. Game on.

Spirit stayed put for one play. But after James Jones drained a 3, and the action moved to the other end, Spirit moved the length of the court to take a closer look.

And that's when the trouble really started, with 8:48 left in the quarter. Referee Danny Crawford wanted to be tossing up a jumpball, but instead was suddenly faced with players worrying over a real live hawk perched directly on the backboard -- a high-arcing baseline jumper might well brush his beak.

Crawford must be a dad, because he did what any reasonable dad would do -- tried to look like he was dealing with it. He approached the bird somewhat gingerly, making eye contact all the way. Then, to ensure the safety of all, he somewhat vigorously slapped the ball with his own hand. Once. And then again. All the while, he studied the hawk for a reaction. I can only imagine he was testing -- to determine character. Was it a stable bird -- or one that would attack after, say, a ball-slapping?

The bird appeared to be well-intentioned.

Game on, indicated Crawford.

Only ... the bird had spotted something. It tensed up purposefully, those predator eyes lasered in on something. Now, surely, it would attack. Spirit took to the air, heading straight down to the court, near the sidelines, where the expensive seats are ...

... and landed gracefully on the leather-gloved hand of his trainer, who promptly stuffed him into the kind of cage you might use to check your dog onto an airplane.

That was enough glory, for one night, for the hawk, and the Hawks' arena crew.