There is no team that embodies the feeling that you want to turn off the Playstation and hit your controller in the wall more than Warriors.
They are everyone’s favorite team in the NBA 2K, who is not a supporter of LeBron, of course, and it’s really hard to try to keep Steph Curry and Co. when you’re not an NBA coach sensible enough to make adjustments against boys who play video games with an open bag of Cheetos and a paper towel at hand.
If Curry doesn’t open, then Andrew Wiggins, Clay Thompson or Jordan Poole throw 3 with your little digital player so far that he goes to bounce when you hit a triangle to challenge the shot. By the middle of the third quarter, as in real life, it’s a shooting clinic, and the lead is growing to the point of wondering if XP is worth the deterioration. Even more frustrating is that you can’t call nonsense how unrealistic it is, as when other teams erupt for bottomless 3s within four five-minute quarters.
Eventually you shout on TV, “Cool, bro, you chose the fucking Warriors!” Followed by another stream of swearing and cracking plastic hitting drywall.
However, Golden State’s ability in real life to make NBA professional defenses look amateurish is so impressive. The Celtics are a great defensive team, but they stayed, leaving poor Al Horford on the island against Curry in the fourth quarter, with Name Udoka leaning aside, pressing the sticks so tight you think he could just break them in two.
2K’s preferred defense is to pick your big man and stand in the fight to challenge dunk attempts, so it’s not uncommon to see the smarter brother of this strategy hired by NBA coaches against the Warriors to take advantage. from the lack of shooting of Draymond Green. And it always seems like a good idea at the time.
The little action by two men that Curry and Green run to counter is so clever that both gamers and NBA teams have copied it. It’s not so much a game as a distance game, with Green playing the role of a “tall kid who keeps the ball out of the reach of a small child,” ending with Curry tilting / passing back and forth enough times to rise. 3 as Robert Williams stands in the paint.
Probably the biggest problem was Wiggins, who was fatal in the Jason Tatum finals. He ripped out the Celtics star’s soul, holding him up to 13 points in Game 6, including just 2 points in the second half. Over and over again, it seemed like a consumer mistake, as Tatum’s discs ended in a rescue pass, an awkward experience between punches or flips.
However, let’s say that the former Timberwolf does not have the physical features – as his athletic assessments do not reflect those of the extremely athletic 6 feet-7 №. 1 common choice – to be a stopper in defense when controlled by capable thumbs would be the screaming program oversight. (If you’re wondering if I’m implying that Minnesota is run by the equivalent of a kid who’s yet to learn button layout – yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.)
We’ve all been there, Boston, and the battle the Cs fought against the Final Boss has been admirable. Worst of all, there is no reset button or progress to recharge. Restarting after hours of recording in pursuit of a fake target is the worst, so I can’t imagine what it’s like when you’ve dedicated your whole life to winning the game and there’s no easier setting.
Unfortunately, Warriors don’t know how to play on any difficulty other than the Hall of Fame, and this lends itself to the constant, “Fuck you, computer!” moments. There were a few at TD Garden on Thursday night. Each of the 3 after which Curry made a gesture would repel me. (Please don’t add sleep time and directing animations to celebrate the fourth ring finger to 2K23. Boston fans shouldn’t be ridiculed digitally either.)
The specific moment I’m thinking about, though, was when Green hit that jumper at the end of the second half of the strike clock. The one that made Jeff Van Gandhi admit that Draymond felt it. That’s when I would break something if it was 2K.