I had to do a double take.

The Warriors were down 10 to the Kings with just over 4 minutes to go in the fourth. Wait, those Warriors, and those Kings?

Thankfully, I had a moment to drop in and see how each team finished the game.

There I witnessed the classic story: the one where the tactical precision and road-weary focus of the incumbents (the Warriors, in this case) prove just too much for the strong yet wobbling knees of the exciting yet unproven upstart (the Kings).

The Kings are young, brimming with talent, and beginning to crawl out of a 15-year legacy of failure. Not just loss on the court, but embarrassing mismanagement and leaguewide ridicule. At the helm is their electric young PG De'Aaron Fox with a contagious joy and work ethic (you know how important soft skills are in the office, right? They're more important on the court), and nothing but upside. They're at home, feeding off the energy of the crowd.

As a young team, full of upside and uncertainty, the crowd is hanging off their every move.

Why? Like gamblers at the slots, the variable interval rewards are worth the investment. That's the lingo in the field of operant conditioning; here's the rub. There's no telling what might happen, and chances favor a loss more than a win -- BUT it's fun to watch, AND there's a distinct chance they might experience something truly spectacular (that is, beating this juggernaut of a Warriors team). So they've completely given their emotions to the team. That means when Fox teleports through the lane and yams on someone, everyone in the stands feels like they're flying with him. Right in that moment.

The transfer of energy is seamless. There's no latency.

But it's a double-edged sword. By the same token, when that young team starts to tighten up in the waning moments against the worldbeating juggernaut with blood in their eyes, the crowd mirrors that feeling. The whole building tightens up, starts second-guessing themselves, and the three-time-championship sharks smell blood in the water.

Here's what happened in those last 4 minutes: The Warriors got visibly more focused. They appeared to enter a different gear. The Kings felt the momentum shift, and fast.

It's actually worse for a team in the Kings' position. To be a young, exciting team, up 10 with only a few minutes left, who's just given up a bucket. Having been there many times over (the scars of many years of playing organized ball), it can feel like the rug is pulled out from under you. It is very difficult, and takes significant training and moxie, not to tighten up and start playing defensively.

You lose the mental edge. Your opponent has the read on you.

And so it ended.

Consider this: through 44 minutes of game time, the Warriors found themselves minus 10 points - no modest deficit under normal circumstances. In the last 4 minutes, they outscored the Kings 17-2. Think about that ratio for just a second. Think about the discrepancy between outcome in the first 11/12 of the game, and the last 1/12. Unreal.

"It's a game of runs," the OGs will tell you. There are few better examples than this particular archetypal reversal.