It was the third quarter of the second Raptors game in a basically empty building, an odd experience for anyone used to the pounding noise 20,000 Scotiabank Arena fans can make, and here he came.
Trundling up the stairway, flanked by empty seats where there would normally be kids and grown-ups clamouring for his attention — a handshake, a hug — The Raptor came seeking company and solace.
He was headed in our direction, to the socially distanced media group atop Section 117. He spied an old friend and confidant, someone familiar with the antics, with the way The Raptor has of connecting with young and old.