That game I watched the other day. Steph Curry didn’t hit a single 3. Just about nobody on the team hit any. They still won, but it wasn’t as fun. Or was it?
A big bunch of the Warriors’ magic is seeing them do their ballet. The ball pinballs around the perimeter until somebody - Steph, Klay, KD, Igoudala, Clark or even Green - winds up rising up behind the arc and sending the ball into the hoop. It’s like a finely tuned Swiss timepiece.
The Warriors offense is the opposite of a lot of sports. It’s not boxing, clutching and wedging your opponent into the corner - though you might say it’s perhaps Ali-esqe, floating like a butterfly, etc - and it’s certainly not like the clash of linemen in the NFL.
Other teams make their living driving and muscling their way around the boards. Not the Warriors. They are the poetic crew. You know they didn’t vote for Trump.
But not the other night. The 3s were all bricks. They fought on the boards. They went to the line more times than in the past 10 games combined. (OK, an exaggeration.) Thankfully, their opponents that night devolved into something closer to a High School squad than a top-flight NBA team (another exaggeration) who made tons of errors and practically begged the Warrior defenders to strip them of the ball.
Post-game analysis put a positive spin on the whole thing. There are going to be games when the shots aren’t going to fall. When they need to take different approaches to victory. True, of course, but what happens when the Warriors turn into the Celtics - or at least the picture I have in my mind of what they once were. Not sure I’d continue to tune in.
I like the Warriors as at least as much art-form as home-town heros. I hope they get their 3s back.