The air in the Warriors’ post-game presser after their 117-110 Game 4 loss wasn’t just sour with defeat, pushing them to a 3-1 brink against the Timberwolves. It was thick with a deeper dread: the anxiety of a dynasty on life support, and Draymond Green, as always, didn’t mince words. Stephen Curry, out for his third straight game with that nagging hamstring strain, is clearly struggling with being sidelined. Green laid it out: Curry’s still leading, still communicating, “a voice between the coaches and the players.” But the real story?

“You can tell he’s antsy. You know, he grabbed the ball here and there, started dribbling, wanted to shoot. He’s definitely antsy.“ That picture of Curry, the Warriors’ heart and soul, restlessly pacing, wanting to shoot but stuck in sweats while his team crumbles, says everything about the desperation. His huddle pep talks, seen on ESPN, are pure gold. But they also highlight the agony of a star who can’t save his team as Anthony Edwards and Julius Randle ran wild. However, Steph’s sideline torment isn’t the only problem.

Green also dropped a worrying update on Jimmy Butler, the guy who was supposed to step up. Butler, with a quiet 14 points on nine shots and a brutal -30, isn’t just being blanketed by Minnesota’s D. “I know he’s not feeling well, been pretty crappy all day,” Dray admitted. “So that also affects the energy as well.”

That’s a gut punch. For a Warriors squad already desperate for offense without Curry, a limited Butler is a disaster. His usual aggression and shot-making were MIA. Kerr said Butler “wasn’t as aggressive,” but Green put it on himself: “I got to find a way to get him in more positions to score… I don’t think I got him the ball in good spots.”

So, you’ve got an “antsy” Curry, desperate to play despite an injury update still vaguely set for “Wednesday” by Kerr, and a sick Butler who can’t carry the load. It’s a grim scene. The Warriors aren’t just losing; they’re fighting themselves, their frustrations, and their failing bodies. The dynasty’s pillars are cracking, and Curry’s visible anxiety is a clear sign of the potential earthquake ahead. That old Warriors belief is fading. Fast!

Moreover, this double whammy of Curry’s absence and Butler’s malaise rips open a leadership and offensive void that the rest of the roster is struggling to fill. Jonathan Kuminga’s flashes of brilliance (23 points off the bench) are encouraging for the future, but he’s not yet equipped to be the primary offensive engine or the steadying veteran presence in these high-stakes moments.

Without Curry’s gravity warping defenses and Butler’s knack for creating something out of nothing, the Warriors’ offense becomes predictable, stagnant. The ball movement that once defined them now often looks like a desperate game of hot potato.

The defensive dam breaks, and the offensive well runs dry amongst Stephen Curry & Co.

Remember Steve Kerr, post-Curry injury, pointing to their defense as the lifeline? “We think we have the best defense in the NBA,” he’d said, a statement that felt like a defiant stand. After Game 4, that belief looks less like defiance and more like a memory.

As Anthony Slater noted, that defense “held up decently in Game 3,” giving them a sliver of hope. But in Game 4, the Timberwolves didn’t just knock on the door; they kicked it down. Minnesota dropped 27, 31, and then a devastating 39 points in the first three quarters. That’s not a championship defense holding the line; that’s a dam breaking, with Anthony Edwards (30 points, 6 threes) and a reborn Julius Randle (31 points) looking like the flood.

The brutal truth is, as Slater put it, the Warriors’ “inability to score has slowly squeezed the life out of their strength.” It’s a vicious cycle. When you can’t buy a bucket—and Golden State has struggled mightily, barely cracking 100 points in Game 4 after failing to reach it in the previous two without Curry—the pressure on your defense becomes suffocating.

Every possession feels heavier, every opposition score a deeper cut. The Wolves, smelling blood, hit 16 threes. The Warriors’ proud, undersized defenders? They looked, as Slater observed, like they were “accepting the inevitable end of their season.” That’s a chilling assessment for a team with this pedigree.

It’s not just that the Warriors are missing Stephen Curry’s 30 points a night; they’re missing his entire offensive ecosystem. His mere presence warps defenses, creates driving lanes, and generates open looks for teammates. Without him, and with Butler clearly hampered, the offense is grinding to a halt.

They were up 30-20 when Curry left Game 1. Since then, it’s been a barren wasteland. The belief they could hold Minnesota in the “85 to 95 range” has been shattered – 102 points in Game 3, 117 in Game 4. The Wolves figured them out, and now, as Jon Krawczynski highlighted, Minnesota is “one victory away from their second straight trip to the Western Conference finals,” a feat never before achieved in their franchise history. That’s the kind of history being made at the Warriors’ expense.

Now, it’s a desperate flight to Minneapolis for a do-or-die Game 5. A win in Game 4 would have bought Curry precious extra days, a potential Game 6 back in the Bay. That lifeline is gone. The pressure to rush Curry back, hamstring strain and all, must be immense, despite Draymond Green’s public pleas to “play the long game.” But what long game is there when your season is on the line Wednesday?

This isn’t just a team struggling; it’s a team confronting its mortality. The T-Wolves are playing with house money and the confidence of a team that knows it has the upper hand. The Warriors? They are left staring into the abyss, wondering if their magic has finally run out. And the anxiety Curry feels on the sideline? It mirrors what the Dub Nation is feeling right now.