PLAYING WITH FIRE
After dramatic shot to extend game, Raptors get burned in overtime,
Even as Kyle Lowry’s shot deserted him over the last month and a half, even as his shooting elbow swelled enough that it had to be drained, even as Indiana made his life difficult, he made plays. He has always made plays. Lowry dove on the floor or drew charges or created something with the pass, over and over. He couldn’t shoot, but he never stopped playing.
Until Game 1 of the first second-round playoff series in this town in 15 years, against the Miami Heat. For 47 minutes and 57 seconds, Lowry was broken. The 30year-old point guard wasn’t missing shots by miles, but he was missing, and worse, his effort plays, his passing, his rebounding — they vanished too, as Lowry seemed to retreat into a passive shell of himself. Kyle Lowry at his best is fearless. This Kyle Lowry, for whatever reason, looked afraid to even try to make a play.
Still, the Raptors were in this game, right to the end. They fought. Finally, they were down three with 3.3 seconds left in regulation, the length of the court to go, and no timeouts.
And then Lowry caught a wobbly inbounds pass from Cory Joseph, took a few dribbles, and launched a 50-foot shot that swished the hell through the hoop as the buzzer sounded. Overtime. The building, and the Raptors, lost their minds.
All it did was delay a 102-96 loss. The offence was broken in overtime; Lowry missed one three, leaning forward. He finished 3-for-13 for seven points, with six assists, three rebounds, and one monster shot that you couldn’t replicate if you tried, in 43 minutes. By the time OT ended, the game-tying shot almost felt cruel.
Maybe it’s Lowry’s elbow — bursitis delivers pain when you snap the arm to finish the jumper, and maybe that got in his head, altered his mechanics, messed it up. Maybe it still hurts. Maybe there is something floating around in there. Maybe there’s a surgery in his future.
But he is still taking extra jump shots, so repetition doesn’t seem to be the problem. Sources inside the Raptors won’t confirm anything is wrong at all, and Lowry insists it’s not bothering him. He would, though.
Whatever it is, he looked as lost as he has ever been. With six minutes left Lowry bulled his way to the hoop because he had to with the shot clock down, and then got a steal off the inbounds. He drew a foul on a defensive rebound. Glimmers of life.
And then the bomb, and nothing else.
This slump didn’t happen all at once. Lowry was shooting .319 since injuring his right elbow March 20, and shot .319 in the first round, and by Game 7 looked like he didn’t want to shoot unless necessary. He told general manager Masai Ujiri the night of that Game 7 win, “I’m back.” He may have been saying it to himself, too.
“I got a brand new series,” Lowry said the morning of Game 1, “I got a whole new life. It’s 0-0 on that stat sheet now. The confidence never left: it’s just me taking the shots and making ’em.
“I still work out, get my shots up every day, still do my same routine, it’s just a matter of me getting the ball through the hole.”
Those words looked hollow before the halfcourt shot, and after. For much of the night DeMar DeRozan looked happy that Paul George is probably on a beach in the Caribbean somewhere; Valanciunas looked like he was taking the contract Hassan Whiteside will get this summer personally; Terrence Ross looked well-rested. Miami didn’t look like a team that the Raptors should be afraid of.
But, Lowry. He had hit his only jumper of the game in the third quarter while leaning left, trying to draw a foul. When Lowry did shoot, the crowd was all but begging for one of his shots to fall. Their prayers got answered once, and no more.
And as the second round began, the slender first-round margin of victory was made even more clear. The NBA retroactively assigned a Flagrant 2 to Bismack Biyombo with 11:18 left in the fourth quarter, which would have meant an ejection; they retroactively mentioned that DeRozan fouled Ian Mahinmi on Indiana’s last offensive possession, which would have put the Pacers on the line with a chance to cut it to one and force Toronto to make more free throws, before a presumed game-tying three at- tempt. Little things, and big ones. Maybe it’s OK to get lucky once every 21 years.
This is a different level. This has the capability to be a delightful series, full of different wing players interlocking all over the floor, matchup up their different talents; featuring one of the great guards of all time, who still can be as good as anybody in the biggest moments; featuring the still-embryonic wingspan monster of Whiteside against the 48-minute combination of Valanciunas and Biyombo.
And at point guard, Lowry against the guy who took his job in Houston, which was one of a number of his lifelong battles over starting jobs, over prominence, over trust. That guy scored 26 in Game 1. Toronto and Miami should be a coin flip. This thing, like the last thing, can be won. But only if Kyle Lowry is here.