Coming off a personal 10-0 run in the fourth quarter, Terrence Ross pounced on a telegraphed swing pass in semi-transition and took the ball the other way. As he took one large step inside the free throw line, Ross planted a second foot, swung the ball back to his right side and back around over his head, bringing the hammer down with his right hand. The ball, though, hit front rim, a hilarious open-court miss that Ross tried to get ahead of by laughing at himself on Instagram, and one Kyle Lowry predicted would wind up on Shaqtin’ in short order.
It was, in the matter of two or three seconds, the entire Terrence Ross Experience from the last four-plus years. A brief flash of defensive brilliance, the speed to pull away in transition, the athleticism and confidence to attempt a dunk that few would ever think to make, and the lack of the je ne sais quoi required to allow all of those pieces to fit together seamlessly for a positive basketball outcome. As his inconsistencies have sometimes rendered others, Ross had no earthly explanation for the miss.
“Pshhhh. I don’t know, man,” he said. “I’m telling you, I started calling it the curse of Vince Carter. Nobody’s allowed to do two-foot windmills in the ACC until he retires, I’m guessing.”
What bookended the missed dunk, though, is all about the 2016-17 Terrence Ross, which is an experience all its own.
Prior to the botched dunk, Ross had gone on a personal 10-0 run, helping the Raptors pull away. Ross finished with 25 points on 17 shots in 21 minutes, continuing a strong offensive season that has him among the qualified league leaders in points per-possession used. He was also a plus-17 as the vaunted “Lowry and reserves” unit cruised to a plus-22 in just 13 minutes together, almost single-handedly (quintuple-handedly?) doing away with a Milwaukee Bucks team that was long on spirit but short on depth and woefully short on answers for the Raptors’ historically lethal offense. The dunk was followed by the Raptors’ corralling the loose ball, ultimate leading to a three for Lowry, the type of serendipitous ending to a potentially disastrous play that signals an important spiritual shift in the mythos of the off-rebranded former 51-point scorer.
“I’m so happy. I’m just happy he made it and we didn’t lose the possession,” Ross said, accepting his fate. “It’s gonna be on every meme, every social media, so I’mma get used to seeing it around. Hopefully it goes away soon.”
Even with the missed dunk, Monday was likely Ross’ best all-around performance of the season. What he did, though, is nothing new, and they’re things he’s been doing all year. It’s also what he’s been showing glimpses of his entire NBA career, rarely able to put everything together at once but tantalizing in small doses with his scoring, shooting, improving attack game, or yes, his defense. Remember, it’s not just the 51-point game or the Slam Dunk Contest championships that were considered bellwethers of the Ross to come. Early in his career, he was displaying occasionally terrific defense and there was a genuine excitement that he could grow into a stopper role. Even last year, as the bench began performing at such a high level, Ross was flashing signs of renewed improvement on that end of the floor, even though he was always somewhat miscast as a small forward in those smaller groups. This year, he’s been at his best on that end, proving a terror in passing lanes, an aggressive and savvy weak-side help defender, and taking up the challenge of switching on to point guards (long a below-radar specialty of his) or bigger wings as necessary. He’s been downright good, fourth on the team in deflections, top-40 in the NBA in steal percentage, and with the closest thing to a neutral Defensive Real Plus-Minus he’s ever had (-0.22 points per-100 defensive possessions).
Again, there have always been flashes. Earlier this month, I wrote about Ross’ search for consistency for The Athletic. He was coming off of his worst performance, and after a second low-key outing in a row after that, he picked up right where he left off. Ross is averaging 11 points in 19.8 minutes with a 20.1 player efficiency rating, a robust 63.8 true-shooting percentage, and the league’s best 3-point clip among qualified shooters, with a ridiculous 43-of-86 mark (or 41-of-89, depending on where you look, as ESPN and Basketball Reference have conflicting numbers). He’s now up to 38.4 percent for his career, a top-50 mark among qualified shooters during that time-span, all the more impressive since he’s 23rd in total makes, and is eighth in the NBA this season in threes on a per-minute basis, hitting 3.4 per-36. If every other skill Ross possesses has been on display only fleetingly, the shooting has been the constant, outside of the natural high-variance that comes with threes.
Consistency everywhere else was considered the next frontier for Ross entering this season, because he had shown all of these skills. Head coach Dwane Casey has a different word for what’s been at the heart of Ross’ excellent two-way start to the year.
“The whole thing. Continuity, maturity, Father Time,” Casey explained. “First year he came in the league he really really was honed in defensively because he wasn’t sure about his offence and I thought he drifted over a little bit and now he’s drifted back to being a disciplined defender and I think that’s where a lot of his maturity shows. He’s always been able to shoot the ball but he’s matured in a lot of ways from a discipline standpoint.”
Maturity, like chemistry or, Ross’ preferred word, rhythm, are sometimes used as placeholders for the difficult to explain. Patrick Patterson is a “glue guy.” The bench unit works because the spacing gives the ball “energy.” Ross is better in his fifth year than in his earlier ones because he’s matured, as if growing older somehow makes attacking a closeout more dangerous. In the case of Ross, though, it’s a fairly apt descriptor, or at least the best one available. Young players often take time to put it all together, if they ever do, and it takes a long time for a league full of players who were stars somewhere else before they got to the NBA to buy into, understand, and thrive in more limited roles.
Raptors 905 head coach Jerry Stackhouse, who worked closely with Ross last season, admitted to me in that Athletic piece that he “didn’t know how to play” for his first six years in the league. Ross hasn’t yet grown into a good enough quote to be quite that frank, but it’s clear from talking to him that his growth has as much to do with the mental side of the game as it does the endless Drew League games and tireless summer workouts with 905 assistant David Gale.
“I think I know our defensive schemes but I also know, getting better at understanding what the offense is trying to do, what they’re looking for, and understanding what the players are thinking, due to the scouts and studying other players,” he said. “I think it’s just all coming together.”
That Ross speaks first of the defensive side of the ball is telling. It’s cliche to say that one’s offense flows from the defense, but when it comes to the second unit, the speed at which they play, and the number of transition threes they rain on opponents, it’s more than appropriate. It’s also something Ross has claimed for years, and it speaks to his search for balance between the two sides of the ball, his path to learning how one side effects the other, and his ability to at least contribute on one if the other isn’t working out on a given night. That might seem like a simple thing, but the NBA’s a hard league, and sometimes guys take more time than anticipated to fully actualize.
As Ross left his locker Monday, he tucked an unopened box from Bulk Barn under his left arm. A humorous side-plot to his strong start has been his new-found obsession with the high-volume candy retailer and the resultant embrace they’ve given him as a thank you for his weekly shopping updates on Instagram. It’s almost ironic that he points to weight loss as helping with his improvements on the defensive end when it’s his love for candy that’s been rewarded. If nothing else, the previously somewhat reserved Ross opening up, and the city recognizing him as a result, is a sign he’s growing more and more comfortable. And free stuff always means you’ve made it.
“Right? I hope so. I really hope so,” he said.
It might be time to go beyond just hoping. This might be the real Ross now.
