Raptors are on their very own ‘hero’s journey’, complete with expected setbacks

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In his The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell lays out the necessary constituents for a proper epic tale.

First, the hero is “called to adventure” – the Toronto Raptors and the NBA postseason.

He refuses – blowing the first game against Orlando.

He meets a mentor – team president Masai Ujiri pulls several key players aside after that wretched Game 1 performance and blows their doors off.

He “crosses the threshold” – figuring things out in Game 2 of that first series; then staying in that mental space for the next five weeks.

And so on and so forth. All of this can potentially involve ewoks, hobbits, Drakes and all sorts of other peripheral nonsense. But the focus is on the hero and what he, she or they do.

That’s a story everyone understands instinctively. That’s why this has so quickly become such a big deal.

On Sunday night, the Raptors reached the penultimate phase of the journey – the ordeal. In the best versions of these stories, the danger must be tangible. If there is no honest chance of failure, there is no catharsis upon reaching the reward.

All this to say that the Raptors’ run to the NBA Finals doesn’t just feel like a fairy tale. In a very real sense, it is one. It’s hitting our lizard brain in ways meant to provoke a sense that this matters in people who normally think of themselves as above that sort of thing.

It had been an averagely fun playoffs until two Saturdays ago – a few zealots, some late arrivals, a lot of people who were half-interested and many more who weren’t at all.

When the Raptors beat Milwaukee, it turned into tulip mania. People I did not think followed sports, never mind basketball, are now walking around my neighbourhood in full Raptors uniforms.

It is a function of my job that I do not wear, never mind own, any Raptors gear. But I am starting to feel as if there is a gang forming around me, and it might be dangerous not to join.

Some poor sap’s house is going to be burned down if things go terribly wrong. I won’t be in mine to defend it right at the moment that happens. Which means that right now, I am that sap.

This situation is – and I say this as someone who has cynicism coursing through my body and keeping it alive rather than blood – more than a bit magical. Everyone loves a good story. Though sports throws up a lot of them, not around here and never this perfect.

That’s the problem in this precise moment. It was all going a bit too well. The Raptors had won five games in a row against a) the best team by record in the NBA, and b) the best team, period. That isn’t sustainable. The Raptors decided to unsustain it for five minutes and 25 seconds on Sunday night, which is what my mother would call “carrying a lazy man’s load.” Don’t do all your unsustaining at once. You’ll pull something.

By Monday morning, it was time for some cross-Canada hair-pulling – the Raptors will never be able to forget that 18-0 run; the referees are against us; the Warriors never lose at home; we’re now only two games from the cusp of a total humiliation. Nobody’s left the bandwagon, but everyone on it is now bracing themselves for an emergency stop.

All those worst-case scenarios are potentially true (though NBA officials don’t hate any team in particular. They spend most of their time guessing. When you find yourself doing that repeatedly, on some nights you’re going to guess all wrong).

This could go spectacularly sideways. Given the relevant track records, it probably should.

Which is why it had to happen for this story to be properly completed.

A Raptors sweep was a) not at all likely, and b) not the way you want this to go. Not really.

There has never been a great sweep. Only sadists celebrate a beating. Everyone else celebrates a fight.

The Raptors are in a fight now. It’s still looking pretty good for the underdog.

They’ve played 96 minutes of basketball so far and the Raptors have been the better side for 90 of them. All of those were played in Toronto with a sizable rooting and noise advantage, but still.

The Warriors are turning into a M*A*S*H unit. Everyone’s sick or hurt, or sick as well as hurt. In the normal course of things, more than half of the Golden State team would not dress for Wednesday’s game. But it’s the Finals, so no matter how bad Klay Thompson, Steph Curry or Andre Iguodala are banged up, they will be out there. The fact that Kevin Durant won’t be strongly suggests he never will be again – in a Warriors uniform anyway.

Tactically, the Warriors still haven’t figured out a way to fully shut Toronto down. Every time they plug one leak (Pascal Siakam) another pops up (Fred VanVleet). And while Kawhi Leonard has not taken a game over offensively, he’s still going all Thermopylae on the other end.

If Golden State was playing the way Toronto has played these past two games and it was also tied 1-1, the NBA would already be stencilling the Warriors’ name on the trophy.

But because no one truly believes in Toronto yet, and because of local history in this regard, everyone up here is getting ready for the worst.

That is 100 per cent as it should be. A sports coach would tell you 110 per cent.

Things are going to plan. This series will extend six games at least, probably seven. Those last couple will be excruciating. And, of course, there are no guarantees. In this or anything else.

But if you want a great story, one you’re going to be telling people in 10 years time, you’re not getting there without suffering first.