You know a game isn’t going well when people text at halftime to ask if you’re OK.

In fact I had recused myself from this one. After suffering through three straight increasingly dispiriting losses, I figured I had earned the right not to witness the ignominious end to this weird rollercoaster season. I was hanging out with family, checking my phone only semi-obsessively, and when Minnesota went up 15 at halftime I was feeling pretty smug about my decision.

But then it got quiet and I realized that one of two things was going to happen: Either the Warriors would go on some crazy run, or the season would be over and all would be sweet relief after that. So I flipped the tube on and watched with resigned exasperation as the Wolves repeatedly left the door open for the Dubs, who repeatedly ran straight into the jamb and stood there rubbing their heads and wondering what had just happened.

Unforced turnovers, defensive lapses, poor shot selection — they were all on display as the clock ticked down toward the offseason. I have a lot of complaints and questions, but why bother? Fate had decreed that Steph Curry’s hamstring should be laid low, yea, even unto the ground, and that was that.

Now I get to watch the six remaining teams battle it out without caring much who wins. I guess I’d like to see the Denver Nuggets do well. Or having the Knicks win the title would be fun. But as far as really giving a damn, basketball season is over.