All eyes are on the Raptors after losing Game 1 at home

— -- The Raptors were defiant and relaxed at practice on Sunday: Everything is totally fine! It was only one game!

They should be confident. The free throws that were supposedly going to vanish in the postseason hothouse flowed in abundance, only the Raptors missed 12 of them -- including a random 4-of-9 bonk-fest from Kyle Lowry. Their two All-Stars, Lowry and DeMar DeRozan, shot 8-of-32 combined. Jonas Valanciunas was dominating the game, toying with skinny Myles Turner and rebounding everything in sight before a cheapo third foul sent him to the bench.

Hell, even if the unthinkable happens and they lose Game 2, the Raptors can still recover; they had the third-best road record in the league! DeMarre Carroll, their potential Paul George disruptor, isn't even healthy!

Everything's cool! Right? Right! Right?

Maybe. But amazingly, just 48 hours after they tipped, the first moment of truth in these playoffs is here. As one team executive emailed after Game 1, "Monday will be the tightest-sphinctered game in Toronto basketball history." It is certainly the franchise's biggest game since ... when, exactly? It feels bigger than even Game 7 two seasons ago against Brooklyn, when the Drakes emerged as the accidental Atlantic Division champs -- hang those banners, baby! -- after dumping Rudy Gay, and coming one phone call away from diving into the tank at the trade deadline.

A winner-take-all deal is bigger than any Game 2, but those Raps were playing with house money. The same core has gotten better and better every year, almost forcing Masai Ujiri, the team's GM, into stasis with a roster he's not quite sure about. How do you bust up a team that tacks on five more wins every season, especially when you're already holding one key rebuilding chip -- the Knicks' pick -- thanks to a laughable heist involving Andrea Bargnani and his facial hair?

A shake-up nearly happened after last season's humiliation, when Dwane Casey's job hung in the wind. Ujiri stood behind Casey, a good man and a good coach, and supplied him with three defense-first free agents who would replace the human turnstiles Casey brought off the pine last season. Then, Ujiri gave Casey, in the final guaranteed year of his contract, a strong vote of confidence before these playoffs.

Meh. The Raptors have now lost seven straight playoff games in the weak sister conference. At some point, you have to start asking if something is just wrong with the fabric of your team. Another first-round loss, this one against a demonstrably worse team that couldn't win close games all season, would mark that point.

This isn't some Western Conference team winning 55 games every season, and coming oh-so-close to real playoff success; the Raptors aren't the Clippers, or the pre-2011 Mavs. They've done basically nothing. Almost all the key players are in their primes. They are meant to win now, and if they don't, Ujiri will have to ask some serious questions -- about Casey, and about whether DeRozan, a free agent whose cap hold soaks up any potential cap space now and forever, is the long-term fit they want with Norman Powell, Terrence Ross, Valanciunas, and all the babies eventually ready for more.

Doomsday talk is silly after Game 1, but not with this playoff history. The Raptors need to win Game 2, and they need to win this series. Period. Ujiri's downplaying of expectations before the playoffs -- all these teams are pretty good! -- is a bit of well-crafted messaging puffery. The Raptors are better, and they should win -- starting Monday night.

Here are eight things they can do:

1. Step 1 might be excising Luis Scola, and giving all the power forward minutes to Patrick Patterson, DeMarre Carroll and even James Johnson. That is not fun to write. Scola is a great dude, a wonderful teammate, and he worked his butt off to become a 40 percent 3-point shooter. But he has a slow release, he hit just 34 percent from outside the corners, and the Pacers do not respect his shot or his pokey catch-and-drive game.

With Indy sneaking in off Scola and George ducking under picks against DeRozan, a ton of Toronto possessions died on the vine:

Is Lowry tentative passing up that 3-pointer? Maybe a little, but that's what happens when a quality defender like George Hill is closing out on you. Lowry and DeRozan are ready for this, but they showed tiny signs of the yips in Game 1; Lowry even barfed up a flailing Lou Williams-style begging-for-the-call pull-up in crunch time.

Watch the start of that possession: Lowry pitches to DeRozan and jogs in the general direction of Valanciunas before veering out of the play. That looks like a classic screen-the-screener action -- a set on which Lowry is supposed to nail Valanciunas' guy, Myles Turner, so that Turner falls behind the action. Toronto whiffed like this too often in Game 1. Start hammering people, Drakes.

With Patterson or Carroll in Scola's slot, the lane is more open, and the ping-ping-ping action speeds up. Toronto recorded 32 drives in Game 1, four fewer than their season-long average. Their 20 turnovers depressed that number a bit, but some of those cough-ups came precisely because the Raptors couldn't come unstuck.

The Raptors will not beat real teams when the offense stops after one action. Indiana's defense was awesome against Toronto's initial pick-and-rolls in Game 1; guards scooted around screens, Ian Mahinmi and Turner spread their arms wide, and the help was on point.

On defense, Patterson has been switching onto stud wings all season, and he can do the same against George. Scola can't, which is why you'll see the Pacers run George off Scola's guy as long as Scola is in the game:

The Raptors outscored opponents by 16 points per 100 possessions with Patterson and Valanciunas on the floor together this season; they shared the floor for just five minutes in Game 1, per NBA.com.

Starting Patterson doesn't solve the issue of George torching DeRozan. The Raptors might want to give Powell a shot; he's three inches shorter than DeRozan, but he has a longer wingspan, and sparing DeRozan George duty might inject some verve into his offense.

A healthy Carroll is by far Toronto's best option against George, and if Casey wants to keep Patterson in his bench role, he could go super-small with Carroll starting. That would leave Toronto at a size disadvantage with DeRozan or Powell checking one of the Mahinmi/Lavoy Allen duo, but neither of those guys are post-up threats, and I kind of like the idea of an all-wing lineup switching pick-and-rolls -- and daring the Pacers to post-up Mahinmi/Allen over fronts. (Rebounding could be an issue, of course.)

2. If Casey sticks with the same starters, Toronto will have to improve on the fringes: a quicker hook on Scola; no minutes with both Lowry and DeRozan sitting; better screening; and more gumption swinging the ball from side-to-side.

3. Toronto has to punish Monta Ellis, who spent most of Game 1 hiding safely on Powell and (less safely) on Cory Joseph. One method: Have Joseph, Lowry and DeRozan screen for each other in jumbles with one Raptor big man. Good things happened when Toronto did this in Game 1, and it's an easy way to make Ellis do actual work on defense:

They also just need to be more active. Boston stashed Isaiah Thomas on Kent Bazemore, away from the jukes of Jeff Teague, and Bazemore made them pay by cutting backdoor. This kind of buzzing hasn't always been in Toronto's DNA.

4. The Turner-Valanciunas matchup is a juicy one, though they may not cross over as much if Mahinmi avoids foul trouble in Game 2. Indy over the past month exiled Jordan Hill, and recommitted to small-ball on bench units -- with Solomon Hill as the nominal power forward, and Turner as the lone big.

The Raptors need to the post the crap out of this matchup. Turner has to feel pain. Valanciunas can back him down all the way to the rack, and Toronto should exploit that as long as the Pacers let it happen.

Indiana will eventually send help, and test Valanciunas' low-IQ passing; he had just 42 assists all season, and hasn't advanced as much passing out of double-teams as the Raps hoped. Valanciunas' level of involvement on offense is a divisive issue within the organization, but you can almost understand Casey's wavering trust as long as Valanciunas stagnates as a passer.

Still, he should be able to manage the easy one-pass-away kickout, and if the Raptors find him early enough in the shot clock, that dish could trigger peppy swing-swing-swing sequences.

5. I'm not sure Turner can hurt Valanciunas on the other end; he made only three 3-pointers all season, so he's not exactly the Kevin Love-at-center package that slaughtered Detroit in the fourth quarter Sunday. The Cavs will, and should, go back to that, by the way. Their wings are solid enough to guard Detroit's tweeners, and Love can put up a fight against Drummond on defense; there were possessions when Cleveland switched him there, even with Tristan Thompson on the floor, and had Thompson scurry around with Marcus Morris or Tobias Harris.

Drummond isn't comfortable on those Kyrie Irving/Love pick-and-rolls venturing high enough to corral Irving, and recover onto Love before Love hurls a bomb. Switching creates pain in both directions, something that has rarely been true of the LeBron-Love combo. And when Love took a breather to spread the floor, the Cavs unleashed LeBron as roller in open space. That is death.

Detroit will have counters ready -- including simply putting Love into as many pick-and-rolls as they can squeeze in.

Back to Turner/Valanciunas: If that matchup materializes, I'd be curious to see if Turner can get anything going from the perimeter.

6. George thrived in Game 1 as a screener in the pick-and-roll:

The Raptors need to be ready for this.

7. I've written it before, but the Pacers need to avoid any minutes when all three of Hill, Ellis and George are on the bench.

8. It will be interesting to see how much small-ball the Pacers are willing to play. They were dynamite all season with the Allen-Jordan Hill combo off the bench, but Allen is starting alongside Mahinmi in what can be an awkward fit, and Hill is (mostly) gone. If the Pacers cut Allen's minutes even more, they have two choices: pair Mahinmi and Turner more, or separate them. Toronto's power forwards don't spook you out of going small, but Valanciunas ate the entire Pacers team alive on the offensive glass.

Enough about Toronto. Come out and win Game 2. Show us this was all real.

SOME OTHER RANDOM THOUGHTS ON SUNDAY'S GAMES:

* Portland-Clippers marked an interesting contrast between two teams who prefer their big men drop back against the pick-and-roll, suddenly facing point guards who can slice up that sort of defense.

The Clips went back to their pressure-everything roots, tossing super-aggressive traps at Damian Lillard, and daring the other Blazers to beat them. Those people failed. Al-Farouq Aminu missed a thousand 3-pointers, and Mason Plumlee -- like Drummond when the Cavs trapped Reggie Jackson -- ain't hitting enough floaters to make you think twice.

I'm fine with Aminu chucking, even if he shot a so-so 34 percent on 3s outside the corner. The Clippers didn't do a good enough job contesting some of his looks. The trapping scheme requires pitch-perfect communication, and the Clippers don't always bring that; you don't need three dudes surrounding Ed Davis on the catch, leaving shooters open everywhere:

But the Clips rotated around with urgent energy, and sometimes, effort makes up for little botches.

* The Blazers will find ways to dislodge Lillard. They tried nailing DeAndre Jordan with a screen in the paint as Plumlee ran up to set a pick for Lillard -- that same screen-the-screener action lots of teams use to bump a big guy like Jordan behind the play.

They also experimented with "shorting" the pick-and-roll -- a typical beat-the-trap antidote where a third Blazer pops up high as an outlet for Lillard:

The goal is a quick-hitting attack where Aminu can make a play as Plumlee cuts behind Jordan. The Blazers don't have quite enough dangerous shooter-playmaker types to carve up the Clips this way -- at least if both Aminu and Maurice Harkless are on the floor. I wonder if Terry Stotts might consider starting Allen Crabbe over Harkless to boost the Blazers' collective shooting. But Harkless hurt J.J. Redick in the post, and the Blazers need his rebounding to fend off those L.A. beasts. We'll see.

Meyers Leonard could have played a role in this series, even with his issues on defense; he is the only one of Portland's traditional bigs who can shoot.

* My deal with the basketball gods: If we lose Jeff Van Gundy from the broadcast booth next season, we have to get Kevin McHale.

* The Blazers took the opposite tack: They stayed true to their identity, and sat Plumlee and Davis back against L.A.'s pick-and-rolls. That puts a ton of pressure on Lillard and C.J. McCollum: if they can't fight over picks, gluing themselves to Chris Paul and Redick, the Clips will rain jumpers all day. Jamal Crawford got into the act too:

Paul can fake dudes into picks with dribbling craft, and both Jordan and Blake Griffin did a nice job confusing Portland's guards by flipping the direction of their picks at the last minute -- and then smushing them.

* Sag off Jordan -- maybe the best all-around player on the floor in Game 1, by the way -- and the Clips will have Redick fly off a Jordan pick, into open water:

McCollum had trouble chasing Redick all night; when Paul and Redick screened for each other off the ball, the Blazers tripped over themselves.

* Spurs-Grizzlies makes me sad.

* Griffin is going to destroy Aminu on the post all series. I'm not sure what the answer is. Stotts may try the Davis-Plumlee pairing at some point if the size deficit gets too dire, but that will torpedo Portland's offense. They could double, but Griffin will thread passes all over the floor.

* The Heat kicked the Hornets all over Miami, and Charlotte has to figure out a bunch of stuff: why their defense was so crappy; how they can avoid Miami's wings roasting size mismatches on the block; whether they can play Frank Kaminsky and Al Jefferson together against Miami's speedier four-out lineups, or if they need to slide Nicolas Batum to power forward on bench units; the non-garbage-time whereabouts of Jeremy Lamb; and whether they might be able to go under more of Miami's picks -- though the Heat, to their credit, did a great job disguising where and when those picks would come.

* Miami's transformation without Chris Bosh is one of the fascinating storylines of the season. They didn't really add any shooting swapping Bosh for Joe Johnson; Johnson simply replaced Bosh as the best shooter in the starting lineup, and sometimes the only reliable one.

But they did add another wing who can make plays off the dribble from the 3-point arc, and reduce their number of pick-and-roll screeners from two to just one -- Hassan Whiteside.

The Heat are still a bad shooting team, but they make up for it with speed, passing and constant motion. One wrinkle I loved: Miami knew Charlotte would send a third defender into the paint early to shove Whiteside on the pick-and-roll, and they had the guy that helper was guarding -- Dwyane Wade here on a Joe Johnson/Whiteside play -- cut across the baseline, and toward the ball:

That's a cut big man make now and then to confuse help defense assignments. You don't see perimeter players make it much, because the whole point of playing four perimeter guys is to station them around the 3-point arc -- and out of the damn way.

But Wade is almost like a big man on offense, and these little cuts flummoxed the Hornets. They triggered a kind of second rotation: Marvin Williams, guarding Luol Deng in the right corner, sees how far away Wade gets from Courtney Lee, and makes a panic-slide into the paint to cover for Lee -- leaving Deng wide open.

The irony? The Heat learned this from the Spurs; Danny Green killed them in the 2013 Finals with this same cut, to the point that the Heat, befuddled about a thing they hadn't seen or expected, nicknamed it "The Danny Green Cut."

Behold, the playoffs: Every wrinkle matters.