Sprawled across an oversize couch in a rumpus room tucked behind the Raptors' ACC training facility, Andrea Bargnani is doing something weird. He's laughing. On the court, in front of cameras and anywhere there's a crowd, Bargnani wears an expressionless mask that his critics have spent six years trying to interpret. The least charitable have decided he isn't grinning or grimacing or generally clowning because he doesn't care. And he doesn't care, but not in the way they mean. When you get him in a room alone, he is an entirely different person. He is solicitous and engaging. He is more articulate in his second language because he can focus on a single conversation, rather than several scattershot ones. For someone who's been kicked so often, he is amazingly open.