Here is a personal sportswriting philosophy, which works pretty well in life itself: Think first of your wife or your girlfriend, if not your mother. What would it take to make her care about, say, the starting point guard for the Golden State Warriors? (Apologies to the women out there who already know Stephen Curry’s pregame rituals—the double-handed Globetrotter routine, the balls airmailed from the tunnel—by heart.) You might start, as I have, with the press conferences last May, during the playoffs, when he not only cheerfully propped his then two-year-old daughter, Riley, on his lap, but allowed her to speak for all of us who have ever found postgame jock talk tedious. (“Be quiet, Daddy. Be quiet!”) Next, something more recent: Warriors-Cavs, a rematch of last year’s finals, in…
