The Raptors lost to the Detroit Pistons tonight, 113 to 95. Writing that sentence feels like explaining to my uncle why his VCR won't stop blinking 12:00. It is a thing that happened, it is annoying, and yet nobody seems particularly surprised or capable of fixing it.
Losing to the Pistons in the year 2026 is a specific kind of experience. It is not like losing to the Celtics, which feels like being bullied by a guy in a very expensive vest. Losing to Detroit is more like forgetting where you parked and then realizing you walked to the mall anyway.
The Arc of Disappointment
A new fan asked recently why our three point shooting is so poor. They mentioned saying a little prayer every time the ball leaves someone's hands. It is a nice sentiment, but even the heavens have a cap on how many missed corner threes they can intervene on.
It is hard to say if it is a skill thing or a recruitment thing. Sometimes I think the rim in Toronto is slightly smaller than the ones in other cities, or perhaps the air is just thicker with the collective sighs of the crowd. Gradey Dick hit a three tonight while we were down by 20 points, which is a very specific type of productivity.
It is like finding a twenty dollar bill in the pocket of a coat you just dropped into a puddle. You are happy about the money, but the coat is still ruined. Gradey has a beautiful shot, but it exists in a vacuum where the score doesn't always matter.
Small Joys and New Identities
Jamal Shead played basketball tonight as well. He is a person who tries very hard, which I appreciate because trying is often the first thing people stop doing when they are down by double digits in Michigan. He plays with the energy of a guy who thinks he might get fired if he stops moving, and I find that relatable.
There is a growing demand for new flairs in our digital communities. People want GloRilla and Nav Bhatia represented. This makes more sense to me than the actual basketball game did. Music and superfans are constant, unlike our defensive rotations or our ability to convert a transition layup.
At the end of the day, basketball is just a series of geometric patterns that occasionally end in a leather ball falling through a nylon net. Tonight, those patterns were mostly jagged and the net didn't move much for the guys in the red jerseys. We will do this again soon, and I will probably watch it, though I am not entirely sure why.