Oh, wow. Tough loss, Jazz fans. Really thought you might be able to pull that one out. Will make a great section for the Warriors’ championship DVD, at least. In light of this tragic defeat, it is time to partition blame! Yes, that will make us feel better. Let me get my sceptre of blame-partitioning.
Okay, got it. Let the ritual commence!
First, I cast the sceptre upon Raul Neto. Would it hurt to score some points once in a while? Even just one would have been nice. It doesn’t do any good to slow down Curry if you can’t also punish him on the other end. Feel the shame as the sceptre molests your soul.
Second, I cast the sceptre upon Quin Snyder. Nice rotations, numnuts. Let the dread caress of the sceptre cast your mind into a fiery abyss.
Third, I cast the sceptre upon Rodney Hood. What were you thinking when you took that three near the end of the game? A two-point attempt would have sufficed. Such hubris. Such vanity. The sceptre rebukes thee and thy sinful feelings.
Fourth, I cast the sceptre upon the fanbase of the Utah Jazz. Don’t you think you were being a little rowdy there at the end? Hard for a professional to concentrate when such a racket is being produced. Collectively, you cost your team the chance at victory. The sceptre glows an angry red, illuming the faces of all those present, accurately assigning blame to each individually according to their level of rowdiness. Their cacophonous weeping drowns out all other noise.
Ritual over! Now, don’t we feel better?