Ahead of the NBA trade deadline, general manager Masai Ujiri went to his biggest star, Kyle Lowry, and asked if he should add or subtract anyone from the Toronto Raptors roster.
It was done lightly – Mr. Ujiri breezing past Mr. Lowry's locker after a practice. He wasn't requesting permission, or really asking anything at all. Mr. Ujiri had already decided to do nothing.
The point was to plant a motivational idea in Mr. Lowry's head – 'This is your team. And if you believe in it, it has to win.'
The team didn't. It didn't on a fairly spectacular level.
The Raptors' 2014-15 season passed fitfully on Sunday evening, swept out of Washington in a humiliating 125-94 loss. Paul Pierce held Toronto's hand in those final moments, reminding everyone as they shuffled off that they still hadn't figured out what 'It' is. Mr. Pierce had said before the series had even started that the Raptors lacked the 'It' factor.
A suddenly basketball-mad city can only see what happened in hindsight – the Raptors weren't looking to raise their game in the playoffs. They were looking for a soft spot to lie down and die.
This one hurt. Torontonians expect the Leafs and the Blue Jays to lose. That's why those clubs exist. As such, it's almost comforting. But the city had started to believe in the Raptors.
The lesson – If the word 'Toronto' is stitched somewhere on the jersey, always bet the under.
The result of this failure will be a great dismantling. This kind of thing is starting to sound so familiar, they ought to erect a Gong of Death in Maple Leaf Square. It'll sound like someone's doing a 24-hour-a-day drum roll on it.
But like the rest, it's necessary.
There are several good reasons why the Raptors faded so badly – injuries prime among them.
Mr. Lowry's masochistic playing style – a sort of endless deck-hitting fire drill – made him the most popular athlete in Toronto. It also destroyed the Raptors' chances of getting out of the first round.
A related culprit was the colossally ill-judged push to get Mr. Lowry on the NBA all-star team.
In the midst of the most successful season by wins (49) in team history, how were the Raptors pulled down a marketing rabbit hole that ended in a pat on the back for just one player? Why was Mr. Lowry allowed to believe that something aside from the collective mattered in big-picture terms? Forget 'allowed.' Encouraged.
Shortly after the all-star game, Mr. Lowry began taking nights off. He was hurt and tired, and had played himself sick trying to get to a pointless midseason showcase.
But I suppose the Toronto Raptors were able to win February. Congratulations.
That early loss of direction killed the season. We just didn't know it at the time.
Mr. Lowry tweaked his back and took three weeks off near the end. He returned markedly diminished. Able to do less, Mr. Lowry compensated by trying to do more. Once the timing of the central cog went off, the rest of the machine began shaking itself apart.
So the Raptors postseason wasn't just a disappointment. It was a cascading failure six months in the making.
That's the autopsy. How do we reanimate the corpse?
The easiest thing to do is sack the coach. That's everyone's answer to everything. It's usually wrong, but whatever.
None of what happened this year is Dwane Casey's fault. He didn't forget how to teach defence. Instead, he was given a team that can't play defence. Using his coaching judo, Mr. Casey went the other way, stressing offence. It worked until Mr. Lowry started putting in half a nightly shift.
Mr. Casey shouldn't be fired, which is not to say he won't be. Someone has to be blamed, and he is already in the dangerous position of being the previous GM's guy.
Also, you can feel management taking long, meaningful looks at Bulls coach Tom Thibodeau, who's busy wearing out his welcome in Chicago. The worst news Mr. Casey can receive in the next few weeks is that Mr. Thibodeau has been let go. Then, in short order, it will be the second-worst news he could receive.
If that happens, the general clearout is on. Fans will pretend to hate it, but they never do. Everyone loves to watch things burn.
You can't trade Mr. Lowry for two reasons – the most basic need of every team is an elite point guard; and since most teams have one, they aren't worth much.
We swivel our sights onto the team's other all-star, DeMar DeRozan.
It's a time for (semi) educated guesses, so here's one – Mr. DeRozan lands in Los Angeles. Though currently awful, the Lakers are compelled to tool up for next year, since it's Kobe Bryant's last. A guy like Mr. Bryant is not going out on a 30-win team. He'll torch the Staples Center before he lets that happen.
The Lakers will sign free agents Kevin Love and Rajon Rondo for nothing but money. Then they trade picks and/or prospects for another need – a versatile, unselfish wing who just happens to be from L.A.
Skittish small forward Terrence Ross steps into Mr. DeRozan's role, much as Mr. DeRozan stepped into Rudy Gay's. Presto whammo – instant, painless facelift.
There will be plenty of others who leave quietly. They are the broken (Amir Johnson, Landry Fields), the unnecessary (Chuck Hayes, Greg Stiemsma), the overpriced (Lou Williams) and the downright dangerous (Greivis Vasquez).
It leaves them very young and a little thin –Mr. Lowry, Mr. Ross (24) and centre Jonas Valanciunas (22) are the core of that new Raptors team.
This is where the localized wretchedness of today's NBA comes into play. That shaky roster may still win the Atlantic Division. If Mr. Ujiri can have it both ways – a quickie rebuild, along with home-court advantage in the playoffs – why wouldn't he try?
Everything about his history suggests he does not wait for things to wind down. Once he senses decline, he is philosophically inclined toward radicalism.
After it's been taken apart, nobody can blame the GM for rash action. He did more than most. He gave this group a chance. He even asked them.
But now that they've let him down – and more important, a city that had bought in – they'll suffer the logical consequence.
Cathal Kelly