The record doesn't matter, the Warriors have already made history

I hope the Warriors lose Saturday. I hope the Grizzlies pants them, Matt Barnes and Harrison Barnes fight at mid-court and both are summarily ejected from the game.

I want this because A) Barnes-on-Barnes crime is hilarious, and B) because this quest for the record needs to die as soon as humanly possible. Because you don't need it, I don't need it and the Warriors sure as hell don't need it.

No matter what happens over the next five days, win or lose, the number 73 is still going to hang over this team forever. Record or not, the ghosts of the '95-96 Bulls are going to haunt the perception of Steph Curry and his teammates forever.

This is because we, ruler-wielding sports fans — €”we, who so often vacillate in our appreciation for athletes in correlation with their stats — €”are obsessed with large, shiny numerical milestones.

And that's fine. Numbers are good. They're what separate us from the Kardashians. I spread analytics on toast.

But of all the Warriors' numbers that matter right now, "73" isn't one of them.

Let's talk about some that do:

"2" -- a.k.a. the number of Warriors coaches currently in the mix for NBA Coach of the Year.

Luke Walton and Steve Kerr both have legitimate cases for Coach of the Year honors in 2016—cases that can only be made because Kerr left the team to rehab his back in October. Enter Walton, a 36-year-old first-time interim HC and ostensibly most of the background extras in The Town, who came in and oversaw the most insane win streak in modern NBA history. 

"385" -- a.k.a. Curry's stroke count thus far

It's old news that bears repeating: Curry has already broken his personal record (286, which was the league record) for three-pointers made in a season, and he's on pace for an unearthly 400 treys for the regular season. And he did this one time.

But [yawn] it's all about one-upping the Bulls, or something.

"1034" -- a.k.a. Draymond Green's accumulated plus-minus

Draymond Green is the plug. This much we know. But in the sweating hay fever of Bulls record-lust, Draymond's launch into a rare stratosphere of basketball nerdom has been lost in the shuffle.

Through 79 games, the Warriors forward is averaging a plus-minus of +13.3, for an accumulated plus-minus of +1034 on the season, as of this writing. As Richard Yannow notes, Green is almost guaranteed to become the first player since at least 1993 to end the NBA regular season with an accumulated plus-minus over 1,000.

Last number I'll throw at you: "70" -- a.k.a. the profane number of wins it took the Warriors just to lock up home court in the West.

This is predictable and absurd, but it also bears repeating: there is another monster in the NBA village. There are multiple killers murdering babysitters in this movie.

Remember these guys? You've heard of them before. You've seen at at least one of them at BJ's buying jeans.

It's almost painful to have to say this, but yo—the Spurs are out here. And when you shove aside the usual "nobody talks about San Antonio oh-wait-we're-talking-about-San-Antonio" laments, it truly is bonkers that Golden State has so thoroughly smothered the Spurs' shine this year. And this has happened for the exact reason you think it did—San Antonio, even in its own, record-threatening juggernaut state, is still the Ensure to Golden State's cocaine-laced Redbull. 

These teams have faced each other three times this year and will throw down one last glorious time on Sunday. The previous contests alternated between shovel fight (January and March) and Thursday's infinitely more polished offering. This fourth one will follow suit. And it will either be Cirque de Soleil or a city-leveling tussle between Godzilla and Mechagodzilla.

And either way, it will be compelling, and you will watch and you will enjoy yourself. And after you do, I ask one thing.

Regardless of what happens, before you fire off that tweet about the Bulls and 73 and how the Warriors are [trash / gods / good but not great], just sit a moment and consider what you've seen this year. Have an adult beverage and think about the banana-town wildness you've seen this group perpetrate on a basketball court over the last 80 some-odd games.

Think about all that and then ask yourself if, with everything you've seen so far and much more to likely come in the postseason—does 73 really matter to your historical perception of this team?

I asked myself this after the loss at Minnesota and came to a conclusion: Nope.

The Warriors are basketball drugs—balling Blue Magic the likes of which I've never seen before. And I'm not going to be convinced differently, regardless of whether or not they numerically surpass the Bulls of my childhood.

I am not losing the trees for the forest on this one. Because 73 don't matter. Not to me.

Dan is on Twitter. He will defend his takes with sword, pistol or subtweet.