“You did it. You crazy son of a bitch, you did it!”
The very lines that Dr. Ian Malcolm exclaims after witnessing the dinosaurs for the first time, in Spielberg’s Jurassic Park, holds an even greater underlying message for the ever-growing attraction up North. The Raptors are lethal, intelligent, and free. The “fences” of Bargnani’s contract, Rudy Gay’s shot selection, and a hangover of Vinsanity have been torn down. They roam free. Derozan. Lowry. They strike like reptilian carnivores, with no mercy for the life of their next victim. Smaller creatures, the Louis Williams, use their craftiness to advantageously dominate, despite their size. The Toronto Raptors are here and they are going to use this moment with its utmost potential.
Should we start with the crazy engineer of life itself? Masai Ujiri. His time with Denver, although small, was already enough to prove his uncanny ability to recognize team success. Not individual talent, such as the freakish athleticism that scouts prey upon. Not the ability to recruit elite level players who demand great salaries. No. Masai recognized the DNA for life, the spirit of winning. He found it in weird places.
The dusty, quiet arena of Atlanta was a natural habitat of Williams, and at the same time, it was the furthest thing from home. “Sweet” Lou, an injury-prone Somalian, always lived for the “big moments” but he’d never seek it unless it benefited the team. Continue reading In The Hands Of Engineers