Your old pal DTB is currently in a difficult situation.
On one hand, I love seeing the Warriors lose. I love observing the online communities on which they congregate go up in flames whenever things don’t go their way. Then Curry retires in a decade, the dynasty is broken up once and for all, and all the bandwagoners crawl back into their little mud-huts discarding their yellow-and-blue Warriors gear along the way, that is the only day when I will stop treating that team with the utmost disdain and reveling in every single one of their losses.
On the other hand, I love calling Stanley Johnson a bust or insinuating that he was not worth his high selection in the draft. When players fail to live up to expectations, it fills me with great glee, because I personally have not lived up to anybody’s expectations at any point in my life, and to have somebody fail as I have failed, but in a more public way, is the perfect salve for my wounded soul.
To have Stanley Johnson, the bust, play so well that the Pistons’ win over the Warriors could partially be credited to him, puts me in a tough spot. I’m happy the Warriors lost, but I’m sad that Johnson played well. The two feelings do not negate each other; rather, they combine to create a swirling, uncertain mass of emotion that leaves me dazed and exhausted. From this predicament there can be no rescue.