That’s Lowry bonking his leg against Paul Pierce’s, and somehow it’s the 29-year-old star and not the 37-year-old mummy coming away with a painful shin bruise. He left the game immediately and didn’t return. The Raptors kept up their push for another three minutes or so, then came apart, and the Wizards won comfortably.

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He kept it together during his postgame locker room media session, deploying the rote athlete-speak—“I’ve just gotta figure out a way to stay on the floor,” and “They did a great job setting screens,” and so forth—until asked a question about some trash-talk-y stuff Wizards guard Bradley Beal said at halftime, about the Raptors thinking they could push the Wizards around.

That face. That is the face of a fiercely competitive dude who has been prevented, by a bunch of stupid foul calls, from responding to a challenge directly, fruitfully, on the court, and is now being asked to respond to it indirectly, impotently, in the locker room. It is the face of a man whose body will begin glowing like the heating element on an electric stovetop soon, if the refs keep standing between him and the opponents whose asses he is dying to kick. It is the face of the most frustrated man. Maybe let’s all leave Kyle Lowry alone until Friday.

Photo via AP