DeMar DeRozan shows off offensive skills with 37-point outburst

TORONTO -- The buckets came at will, falling from the rafters at Air Canada Centre like the chunks of ice crashing violently from atop CN Tower and neighboring skyscrapers this week onto the streets of downtown Toronto.

It started, as it did in Game 1 of this series, with the Toronto Raptors' big men, who were beneficiaries of Washington's pressure on DeMar DeRozan and Kyle Lowry. The Wizards varied their defense later in the game, but they opened with their blitzes -- and the guards responded. DeRozan danced first with Serge Ibaka, an open midrange jumper off a pick-and-roll, then Lowry found Jonas Valanciunas at close range off a pick-and-roll.

Twelve Toronto points in six possessions before an open 3-pointer in the right corner by OG Anunoby forced a Wizards timeout. The shot was a near facsimile of what Toronto did in Game 1, when the Raptors worked through a series of actions before reversing the ball to the rookie on the weak side.

The Raptors picked up where they left off in Game 1, as a deep, opportunistic team that punished Washington for its facile make-the-other-guys-beat-us brand of defense. By the time DeRozan drained his first shot more than seven minutes into the game -- a driving layup courtesy of a little give-and-go on the left side with Valanciunas -- the Raptors led 26-13 and were on their way to a 44-point first quarter, a franchise best in the postseason.

After DeRozan was held to 17 points on 6-for-17 shooting in Game 1, he graciously commented that he welcomed Washington's traps -- what better way to get teammates involved? But DeRozan, along with Lowry, came into the playoffs with a less-than-stellar postseason résumé. Decoying isn't a bad contingency for a night, but for the Raptors to achieve what they want this spring, DeRozan has to reverse his personal history.

What followed was a 37-point night in which DeRozan shot 14-for-23 from the field, including 3-for-6 from beyond the arc, as Toronto rolled 130-119.

"He showed offensive toughness," Raptors coach Dwane Casey said of DeRozan. "They were into him. They were doing a lot of switching. He attacked their feet. ... Attacking the blitzes early in the game, just all-around reading. That's through his maturity."

DeRozan has occupied an interesting place as a midrange practitioner in an NBA that has gone 3-or-rim. He entered the postseason a career 14-for-67 3-point shooter, with an overall true shooting percentage of 49.4 percent (only Rajon Rondo and Jamal Crawford were worse among active players who had attempted 700 postseason field goals). Although DeRozan has been a strong isolation player throughout his career, with a gift for getting to the line, there's something about the playoffs that has exposed the limits of his game as a one-on-one player not always inclined to find solutions when defenses made life difficult.

But Game 2 was a liberation for DeRozan. It was both an appropriate second episode following a heady, unselfish, if statistically unexceptional Game 1 performance and a portrait of nearly everything the Toronto Raptors -- and DeRozan individually -- have added to their portfolio as a team: a willingness to work through possessions with additional triggers, a sincere trust in teammates to make the most of opportunities, a desire to maximize the statistical benefits of the 3-point shot. To be sure, DeRozan wreaked plenty of havoc on Washington as an iso-pro, but the effort came seamlessly.

DeRozan and Lowry are different characters. Lowry is sardonic, while DeRozan is earnest. Lowry can be temperamental, whereas DeRozan exudes an almost neutral mood. But in their six seasons together in Toronto, the backcourt pairing has cultivated an old-married-couple rapport. At the podium following Tuesday's game, the dialogue-driven buddy comedy was in full effect, as DeRozan tried to convey that his offensive outburst was not premeditated but a natural development of circumstance.

"I just let the game come to me. I go based off that," said DeRozan, sitting beside Lowry. "These days, it's not like I have to have the mindset to go out there and I've got to score 30, 40 points. I go out there and play aggre--

"You had 37," Lowry interjected. "What you mean?"

"I didn't go out there saying, 'Let me score 30 tonight.'"

"I'm saying, you had 37. Don't say it like -- "

"But I'm saying, I didn't go out there --"

"All I'm saying is that you can't say that when you had 37."

"Listen to what I'm trying to explain."

"I understand what you're saying."

"No, you don't. Let me finish."

Lowry rolled his eyes, and it was entirely obvious that while he's genuine in his belief that DeRozan was underselling the level of calculation in his prolific evening, Lowry was enjoying the experience of flustering his teammate in a way the Wizards could not.

"I didn't even -- like I said, I didn't go out there planning to score 37 points," DeRozan finally continued. "I went out there to be aggressive. With my aggressiveness came 37 points."