Modern sports history is filled with interesting examples of "the greatest teams to never win a championship."
The 2007 Patriots rolled through 18 wins — 16 in the regular season and two in the playoffs — without a loss, before falling in the Super Bowl to the Giants.
The 2001 Mariners put up a regular-season record of 116-46 — tied for the most wins in any single MLB season — but bowed out of the playoffs in the American League Championship Series.
The 1990-91 UNLV men's hoops team cruised into the NCAA tournament with a 30-0 record and made it all the way to 34-0 before losing to Duke in the Final Four.
And perhaps most famously (and painfully) locally: the 1998 Vikings, a seeming team of destiny after setting what was then a record for most points scored on the way to a 15-1 regular season, stumbled in the NFC title game.
There are numerous counter-examples, of course — teams that dominated the regular season and won championships, like the 1998 Yankees (114-48), the 1996 Bulls (72-10), any number of UConn women's basketball teams and even some recent Lynx examples.
There are also plenty of reasons why teams who dominate a regular season fall short in the playoffs. You could make a strong argument that the primary reason is simply that they are consistently facing better competition in the postseason.
But I'd also like to examine briefly the notion that when "teams of destiny" fall, the fact that they aren't used to falling plays a critical role as well. The thought crept in more and more as I watched Golden State not only lose a game but lose its collective cool against Cleveland on Thursday night, forcing a winner-take-all Game 7 back in the Bay Area on Sunday.