Joshua Howe

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Impact is a fluid concoction of tangibles and intangibles, both on the basketball court and off of it, and there’s no one who epitomizes the term more than Fred VanVleet.  To this point in his basketball journey, the on-court impact has been vehemently clear. All one has to do is watch him. Whether it was teaming up with Pascal Siakam in 2017 to power the newly minted Raptors 905 to their first title, or becoming the spearhead of the Toronto Raptors’ Bench Mob in 2018, or, most stupendously of all, becoming a key cog in Toronto’s first ever championship run last season, VanVleet has always managed to defy the odds and exceed the premature expectations placed upon him by dismissive skeptics.  And now, with a ring to show for it, VanVleet has carved his everlasting imprint into the landscape of the NBA. But off the floor, way off the floor—615 miles from Toronto, to be exact—VanVleet’s impact is being felt in a manner far different than that of saving a loose ball or draining a deep, contested three.  In Rockford, Ill., the Forest City, the pulse of which flows through VanVleet’s veins like blood and is steeped in the depths of his very core, the 25-year-old has built himself a legacy born out of accomplishment and grit, the likes of which have laid the foundation for him to shape something that few are afforded the opportunity to: The future. VanVleet desires to revitalize basketball in Rockford, both by bringing pro hoops back to the area and by cultivating the young talent that already exists there. And so, back in early November, it was revealed that he had taken a tangible step towards this goal by unveiling a sponsored court at the BMO Harris Bank Center, the largest arena—it has a capacity of 6,000-7,000 seats, depending on how it’s laid out—the city has to offer.

VanVleet’s ensuing elevated status has only made things easier for him in terms of continuing to place emphasis upon nurturing an organic affection for basketball. Now more than ever, people push to get their kids into VanVleet’s camp, which he has held every summer for the past three years. But the rush to partake in the event isn’t solely based upon connecting to VanVleet’s social prestige—no, it’s also because of the notable level of personal involvement he has in each outing. “It’s not like the typical camp that’s named after somebody where maybe [the person] makes an appearance one day and gives a half hour talk and that’s it,” Ott said. “He’s literally there every day of the camp and he’s literally leading the drills and he’s officiating games and all this kind of stuff. He’s hands on with them, and I think people appreciate that because he’s real and he doesn’t forget where he’s come from.” There’s an authentic element to VanVleet, a genuine willingness to shed his aura of celebrity in order to be closer to the things he truly cares about. That’s an intangible that, whether done consciously or not, has only served to heighten the respect and adoration his hometown populace has for him. VanVleet has essentially debunked his own mythology, a feat not so easily—or voluntarily—done by most in his rarified position. “Fred walks around,” Flynn said, “he’s not hard to find if he’s in Rockford. He’s in Target, he’s in shops downtown, he’s out doing an appearance someplace. He’s a very tactile person—you can touch him.” Perhaps VanVleet makes such an effort to be present because he understands what it feels like for there to be a lack of basketball presence, and just how difficult that can make the first steps of following one’s dreams. After all, if one has no anchor to a desire, if there is nothing to foster the potential love for something, then it is almost certainly a fait accompli that such desire will dissipate.  VanVleet is hoping both he and the court can be that anchor. “I think I played on a court like one time in my whole life growing up and I don’t even remember what it was for,” VanVleet said, “but it wasn’t even like an option, so to have that … It’s different playing in an arena. It gives kids dreams. You see kids come out and be able to shoot [at Scotiabank], obviously this is a grand arena, but even on small stage like that—to have the bright lights and the big court and just seeing the NBA three-point line, all of those things are important.”

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Bet On Rockford: How Fred VanVleet is Revitalizing Basketball Back Home

             The Toronto Raptors are a group of guys bursting with not only remarkably unique talent on the court, but also distinct personalities off of it.

             What follows is the entirety of the 15-man roster, with each player being matched to a movie character for comparison. This is a personal list and is therefore highly subjective (each choice does come with a short explanation), and creating your own list at home is recommended.

             There are, of course, spoilers for the films below, so if you haven’t seen a movie listed beside a player’s name, perhaps go watch it first and return to this list later so that you can disagree with me even more vehemently than prior to your enriching viewing experience.

KYLE LOWRY   (John Keating, Dead Poets Society)

            O Captain! My Captain!

            Kyle Lowry is an artist, the heartbeat and motor of a basketball team that ultimately couldn’t hum without him the way it does with him. It has been the defining feature of this golden era of Raptors basketball more than anything else—Lowry keeps the team afloat, keeps them balanced, and takes upon himself the role of an intangibles king, striving for perfection in every single possession.

            Expressed simply: He inspires winning.

            Such a thing could be said, put in the context of a classroom with a bunch of talented yet disjointed students, of one John Keating, the charismatic - English teacher who eruditely strives to extract the dormant brilliance of his pupils in order for them to reach a level of fulfillment both for themselves and each other. He keeps the class together, as best he can, pushing for the betterment of a greater good in his own personal quest for a particular type of perfection.

            He, too, inspires winning—just of a different sort.

            Either way, expect both to have you standing loyally upon your chair, ready to tackle whatever challenge looms next.

            We all know the story by now—VanVleet went to Wichita State, where he spent four years, before declaring for the NBA draft and having no one select him. Then, he was picked up by the Raptors organization and dropped into Raptors 905, where he helped them win a title before eventually doing the same with the parent club in 2019 on the world’s grandest basketball stage.

            And for the entirety of it all, VanVleet bet on himself.

            So does Rocky Balboa, the titular protagonist of pop culture’s quintessential underdog tale, as he transitions from a life of relative obscurity, taking boxing matches at small gyms, to one of seismic proportions when he’s called out by world heavyweight champion Apollo Creed.

            Rocky, like VanVleet, is an unrelenting force in the sport of his choice, driven by an intense love for his family and friends and an overwhelming desire to prove his worth. No matter how many times he’s knocked down, or how brutally (for the record, VanVleet’s scar is far cooler than anything Rocky wound up with), he gets up again.

            The only substantial difference here? VanVleet got the win the first time—it took Rocky two flicks to get it done.

OG ANUNOBY (Spock, The Star Trek film franchise)

            Could this one have been any more obvious?

            OG Anunoby is as close to Spock as it gets, a pragmatic, stoic figure in his own right, with more than enough esotericism to keep people on their toes and a competitive fire that is perhaps more human than it seems.

PASCAL SIAKAM (Ferris Bueller, Ferris Bueller's Day Off)

            Things just seem to work out for Siakam, whether by his own volition or by mere chance. Certainly he puts substantial effort into improving his game, but there’s also an effortlessness to everything he does, as if all that he’s accomplished (and continues to accomplish) was simply meant to be.

            On top of all that, he carries a genuine, infectious joy both on the hardwood and as a person.

            This may as well be a description for the fourth wall-breaking teenager Ferris Bueller, whose easygoing and fun-loving nature carries him through life at a leisurely pace. Ferris puts in the work to get what he wants (and, much like Siakam, does it at an elite level), such as building an elaborate contraption to make everyone believe he’s home sick when he isn’t, but he’s also unfathomably lucky, blessed with good timing and unmatched street smarts.

            You’re still here? It’s over. That’s the answer. Go on to the next comparison.

MARC GASOL (Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy)

            If there is one player on the Raptors whose game is convincing enough to have you believe that everything he does is by design, it’s Gasol. Rarely looking to shoot (sometimes unselfish to a fault), he’s instead always focused on the bigger picture, making winning plays here and there, sometimes obvious (hitting cutters along the baseline with pristine passes), and sometimes less obvious (acting as the team’s most imposing screener).

            Compare with Gandalf, the legendary self-proclaimed wizard of Middle-earth. No matter the situation, whether it be dire or no, there is an ethereal understanding that his presence means security, and that in the moments he chooses to exert the full extent of his formidable authority, it’s because the plan deems it so.

            For, after all, a wizard (and a 6’11”, passing savant) is never late, he arrives precisely when he means to.

SERGE IBAKA (Lando Calrissian, The Star Wars franchise)

            A charming con artist (I mean, are we sure all of the participants know what they’re getting into on “How Hungry Are You?”) whose outfits have more flair than any single shot in a J.J. Abrams joint?

            Powell takes his job as seriously as anyone, and when he's on a roll, he’s explosive, able to rack up a bushel of points at a moment’s notice. But he’s also one of the more playful Raptors, a guy who knows that life needs a little colour, a little pizzazz.

            The freewheeling Baby matches this description pretty astutely—he’s one heck of a getaway driver (perhaps the best) who is earnest about the importance of and dangers included within his role. At the same time, he lives in a world made up of musical whimsy (on account of ), never one to shy away from taking a moment to appreciate the rhythmic side of existence that many tend to overlook.

            Can’t you just picture Powell in a deep red Subaru Impreza, window rolled down, peering out at you overtop a pair of rugged sunglasses before winking and tearing away to disappear round the nearest bend?

RONDAE HOLLIS-JEFFERSON (Andrew Neiman, Whiplash)

            There is a scene in this flick in which the lead character, Andrew, gets struck by an oncoming vehicle while driving as he’s talking on his cellphone. Prying himself from the wreckage, Andrew looks desperately for his drum sticks (he is a percussionist), locates them while ignoring a concerned pedestrian, and takes off for practice where he sits down and, despite incredulous looks from those around him, participates, leaving blood stains upon the instruments.

            That’s a pretty good metaphor for how hard Hollis-Jefferson works on the floor. He’s just going to grind (leaving blood, sweat, and tears in his wake) until he gets there, wherever there is.

            Davis has spent a large portion of this season being described as an unearthed gem, a diamond in the rough that nobody saw except for Masai Ujiri and Bobby Webster when they picked him out of the undrafted player pool to give him a shot at making the team. Davis has outperformed all expectations, and with every passing game continues to show growth that elevates his ceiling to a greater extent.

            Existing within 1980s Dublin, Conor, an angsty teenager in love with a neighbour-girl and with a passion for music, also finds himself a greater talent than anyone (even himself) thought he could be. Conor’s voice is undeniably rough to start the film, but as it progresses and experiences attach themselves to him and he continues to grow and push himself, he elevates his life from that of a no-name, going nowhere kid stuck on an island into a true musician with a future across the waves.

            We already know Conor gets there. Davis’ journey is just getting started.

            There are plenty of highly confident characters throughout the history of film, but something about Maverick seems to suit Boucher just right, even if it’s tough to imagine him spending much of his free time playing beach volleyball in slow motion. There’s a genuine warmth and earnestness that underlies Maverick’s need-for-speed, self-assured attitude, and that same something bubbles just below the surface of Boucher the person, while his gunslinging on-court persona matches Maverick’s in-flight one with gusto.

PATRICK MCCAW (Westley, The Princess Bride)

MALCOLM MILLER (Frank Abagnale Jr., Catch Me if You Can)

            Miller is a prototypical 3&amp;D-type player, the sort of guy that teams across the league are always searching for. He provides reliable defence at multiple positions, and he can catch-and-shoot with the best of them from various spots on the floor.

            You might even say he’s a plug-and-play guy, and there’s perhaps no one more plug-and-play in the world of film than Frank Abagnale Jr.

            Need a doctor? He’s got you covered. Need a pilot? He can do that, too. Need a lawyer? You already know.

            Bouncing around from job to job and somehow managing to do each one successfully (at least, to a degree) is about as close a comparison as you can ask for when it comes to someone who seems to fit so seamlessly no matter where you slot him.

STANLEY JOHNSON (Groot, Guardians of the Galaxy)

            Strength. Protection. An unforgettable smile.

            Look no further than Groot for comparison here, a sentient tree-creature from the far reaches of some distant galaxy who is constantly focused on defending his friends (especially his best pal Rocket) from danger while doing it all with a knowing smile that underscores his heart of gold.

DEWAN HERNANDEZ (William “Will” Stronghold, Sky High)

            Just like Will attending Sky High for the first time amongst a plethora of super-powered students, Hernandez is getting his first taste of the NBA, dipping his toes into the water and being exposed to reality’s version of super-powered people—high-level athletes.

            As his career rolls along, Hernandez is sure to discover aspects of his game that he didn’t even know he had (à la Will discovering his own personal superpowers) that will hopefully carry him to even greater heights.

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Mirror, Mirror: The Raptors’ Reflection in Film

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             As part of a regular series in this anniversary year, Raptors.com writers are meandering down memory lane. Join them as we celebrate 25 years of Raptors basketball.

            I was 15 years old when a dread-headed Chris Bosh sealed my fate forever with a silky step-back jumper.

            Sure, I’d watched the Toronto Raptors long before that moment changed my life. My first recollection of the team is from a random visit to my grandmother’s, in which a game just happened to be playing soundlessly on her large, clunky television. Vince Carter must have been in purple and black at the time, though I remember not much more than snippets of being fascinated by the high pace of the action.

            Skip ahead, and the first Raptors jersey I ever owned—gifted to me as a Christmas present—bore the name of a lightning-quick guard named T.J. Ford, who had captured my attention unlike any other in how he zipped up and down the floor, sticking midrange jumpers out of the pick-and-roll, finding cutters with passes that were mesmerizing in how they materialized out of seemingly nowhere, and even rising for startling dunks that illustrated his sure-footed explosiveness.

            Everything else related to the Raptors prior to my true basketball awakening lives now in dusty boxes in the attic of my brain, and if you open them, you’ll find only fragments: A grade eight, self-made graduation poster with “CB4” written in bubble lettering; a vague remembrance of Amir Johnson torching the Kobe Bryant-led Los Angeles Lakers at nearly every meeting; the second dunk by former Harlem Globetrotter Jamario Moon in the 2008 Slam Dunk Contest, in which he took off from just inside the free throw line, caught a bounce pass with his left hand from teammate Jason Kapono, and threw down an emphatic one-handed jam.

            I could’ve chosen any of those memories as my starting place. But I chose the one I did because it is the one that sticks out the most, and because, deep down, I know that it is what forged an eternal passion in my soul the likes of which will continue to burn even when everything else falters.

            As is the case with most of these stories, mine begins with luck. My mother had entered a contest to win two Raptors tickets months earlier and, somehow, the stars aligned. She gave them to me as a present, and so it was that on March 17, 2010—St. Patrick’s Day—I found myself being driven away from my small hometown of Kincardine, Ontario and towards the sprawling metropolis of Toronto with a buddy of mine.

            The tickets told us that we would be sitting as close as we ever had to a live basketball game, and there was much to anticipate: Chris Bosh was having arguably his best season as a Raptor, young buck DeMar DeRozan was always good for an earth-shattering dunk or two, and, to my friend’s delight—he was a big Steve Nash fan—former Phoenix Sun Shawn Marion was now playing north of the border.

            Inside the arena, it was a different world.

            The then-named Air Canada Centre was packed with a salmagundi of good humoured, perhaps slightly inebriated fans, who had mostly left their red and white and black garb behind in lieu of St. Patrick’s Day green, transforming the entire stadium into a festive wonderland.

            Even the Raps themselves sauntered out onto the court in bright green jerseys—my friend very swiftly bought a Marion one, and, oddly enough, had it signed pre-game by Jose Calderon.

            And then the game itself began, and so did my metamorphosis into an arrant basketball diehard.

            To this day, I am of the belief that free throws exist, aside from their obvious, intended purpose, to allow one to breathe. Basketball never leaves room for distraction, never warrants turning away from—it is so fast, so aesthetically pleasing, so constantly thrilling, that it’s easy to imagine missing something vital by blinking at just the wrong moment.

            Add to that incessant stimulation the boisterous, unrelenting energy of the surrounding crowd, and I was enraptured. There’s something about being immersed in the midst of a swelling, euphoric mass of singularly-focused people that sends finger-tingling jolts through your body, making everything more visceral and giving you a greater—if primal—sense of belonging.

            It also helped that the game I was at—which pitted the home team against the Atlanta Hawks, by the way—was a close one most of the time. It’s during those sorts of games that the importance of every possession becomes palpable to the point that you can almost feel the laser focus of the players as they calculate their next move, elevating the significance of every made or missed bucket as the seconds tick by.

            A lot happened that evening. DeRozan did, in fact, have one of his patented dunks—right near where I was sitting, in fact!—Bosh became the first Raptor to pass the 10,000 career points mark early in the second quarter, and Jamal Crawford gave Toronto the business, drilling basket after basket on his way to 33 massive points.

            Fittingly, all of this eventually led to a one-possession game—Raptors ball, down 105–104—with the shot clock turned off. Jarrett Jack stood far right at the top of the arc, vigorously motioning for his teammates to clear to the opposite side of the floor. He then tossed the ball down to Bosh, who had Al Horford on his back just outside of the key, about 20 feet from the hoop.

            Bosh pivoted to face Horford, jab-stepped one, two, three, four times, and then exploded to the right and backwards, creating just enough space between himself and Horford to get the step-back shot off and over his opponent’s outstretched hand.

            It was a feeling I had never experienced before—a different type of jubilation. The way nearly 20,000 people tensed up for the entirety of those final 12 seconds, the way the mesh snapped when the ball went cleanly through, the way the Raptors threw their arms skyward in conjunction with every person in the building.

            With one perfect dagger, Chris Bosh had sealed two fates—he just didn’t know it.

            From that moment on, I became obsessed with the sport. I’d like to think it was a fait accompli, but I suppose I’ll never truly know. The only thing I can be certain of is this: Toronto Raptors basketball is now infused in my DNA, and I wouldn’t change that for all the world.

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Love and Basketball: An Origin Story

For one night, it was there—all of it—emanating from tribute and hype videos, radiating from the grins and tears of the players, and encapsulated by the boisterous vitality of a fan base hungry to represent it. 

The past, present, and future of the Toronto Raptors was on full display in their season opener, a night that began with a ring ceremony and concluded with an overtime thriller. But it wasn’t so simple as handing out hardware and playing a basketball game—no, from the first moment the lights went out and the crowd began to rumble in anticipation, every second was a marker, a palpable, real-time indicator of what was, what is, and what will be.  The first major marker came in the form of the initial tribute video, a concise, eye-popping recollection of the Raptors’ post-season trials and tribulations from their opening series against the Orlando Magic to their eventual finale against the Golden State Warriors. Not everything in the franchise’s history was revisited, of course, but it was there, serving as the foundation for an electric response that touched both fans and players alike. “I mean you only really remember Game 6 so you kind of forget what the ride was and the journey and what it took to get there,” Fred VanVleet said post-game, when asked about the video. “It also was a reminder of what it meant to the fans in the city and the country. It was just cool to recap all of that, get that ring, and then finish it out with a win. That’s a pretty good night.”

[[{"fid":"76036","view_mode":"default","fields":{"format":"default","alignment":""},"link_text":null,"type":"media","field_deltas":{"1":{"format":"default","alignment":""}},"attributes":{"class":"media-element file-default","data-delta":"1"}}]]  Then came basketball and, with it, a glimpse at the future.  Standing out more than veterans like Lowry and Marc Gasol—so much so that the game could be described as a passing of the torch—the team’s young upstarts in Pascal Siakam, Fred VanVleet, OG Anunoby, and Terence Davis all contributed to Toronto’s narrow victory.  Siakam and VanVleet, in particular, shined in their newly elevated roles. In Siakam’s first performance as the club’s go-to player, he dropped 34 points, 18 rebounds, five assists, and a block in 38 minutes. The franchise cornerstone was everywhere on the glass, glided to the hoop at every available opportunity in transition, worked his magic in the post, and—before fouling out in the fourth quarter—proved just how potent he can be in clutch minutes, scoring seemingly at will. “He was pretty good,” Nick Nurse said of Siakam after the game. “He was carrying us there for lots of stretches. There wasn’t a lot of crispness to our offence, wasn’t a lot of movement and cutting like we’d like to play. I think it was our energy level a little bit. We had to go to him time and time again for stretches and he produced.” VanVleet, too, produced. He racked up a comparable line of 34 points, five rebounds, seven assists, and two steals in 44 minutes while running the pick and roll to perfection, making intelligent decisions each time he had the ball in his hands, and creating for himself more than ever before. The Rockford native also continued to build on his stellar pre-season by shooting well off-the-dribble and finishing difficult shots at the rim on an impressively consistent basis.  Although the game wound up being perhaps a tad tighter than the Raptors would have liked, it showcased just how good the young duo—both players are 25 years old, only just about to enter their primes—can be, and the potential that’s there for them and the rest of the budding core to improve even further.  Indeed, the Raptors’ season opener contained a little bit of everything—past, present, future. Instances like these are exceedingly rare and, even if Toronto eventually wins another title, this particular one can never be replicated.  But for one night, it was there. All of it. “We might have one last dinner tonight just to celebrate again,” Siakam said with a smile, “but after that kind of move on to the season. We’re excited.”

Joshua Howe

Bet On Rockford: How Fred VanVleet is Revitalizing Basketball Back Home

Mirror, Mirror: The Raptors’ Reflection in Film

Love and Basketball: An Origin Story

One Ring to Rule Them All: On the Raptors’ Unforgettable Season Opener