In the April 11 newsletter, Jason Concepcion details San Antonio’s offensive woes against Golden State, Sam Schube debuts with a message for Jake Gyllenhaal, Allison P. Davis runs down five great moments from Catastrophe Season 2, and Molly McHugh demystifies “tbh.” Getty Images No Offense: What the Warriors Have Taught Us About the Spurs This Season By Jason Concepcion With Sunday’s loss, the San Antonio Spurs are 1-3 against the Golden State Warriors this season. More troubling than the wins and losses, however, is the fact that the Spurs have lost even while largely executing their game plan. They've dragged Golden State’s lightning pace down to earth (101.64 to 96.15). They’ve manhandled Stephen Curry and generally made it tougher for the Warriors to get into their offense. They’ve taken care of the basketball and worked the boards. All well and good and very on-brand Spurs. It’s just that, against the Warriors, the Spurs cannot freaking score. The numbers tell a stark story of teamwide player hating. LaMarcus Aldridge is shooting under 43 percent against the Warriors’ interchangeable swirl of bodies — a percentage boosted by more than six points after last night’s 11-for-18 outing, the result of a strategic concession by the Golden State defense. Aldridge shoots 51 percent against everyone else. Tony Parker, who no longer can be counted on to reliably pierce defenses, is shooting 32 percent against the Warriors. Kawhi Leonard, 44 percent (down from nearly 51 percent against the entire league). Danny Green is already struggling with a career-worst 37 percent shooting, and the Warriors make him look like he’s got ricin poisoning (32 percent against the Dubs). Patty Mills has taken 15 3-pointers over these four games and has hit only four. Tim Duncan has appeared in two of the four games and has, for the most part, looked his age. The team’s lone bright spot, whole-octopus-eating savage Boris Diaw, did not play Sunday. With nothing to fear from the Spurs shooters, the Warriors have set about strangling the interior. In the series, San Antonio managed to shoot only 50 percent from within 10 feet of the basket. All of which is to say, against Golden State, the Spurs’ typically efficient offense resembles a sub-Sixers atrocity. San Antonio’s rumbling-stagecoach-like 108.5 offensive rating (third best in the league) becomes a pumpkin-esque 94.8 against the sitting champs; for comparison, Philadelphia has scored a league-worst 96.4 points per 100 possessions on the season. The Spurs are sitting on 65 wins and — still! — hold a historically impressive 12.0 net rating. In any other season, they’d be the title favorites. But fate is fickle. The Warriors are the team San Antonio has to prove it can beat, and the only team that the numbers suggest the Spurs can’t. Getty Images Career Intervention: Get Weirder, Jake Gyllenhaal By Sam Schube Jake Gyllenhaal wants you to think he’s weird. Things are easier that way: As long as you think he’s a little off, Gyllenhaal can keep making strange, “adult” dramas like Southpaw, Enemy, and Nightcrawler, each character less recognizably human than the last. If he comes off a touch feral, well, great! Then he doesn’t have to play a superhero, which seems to be the whole strategy here. But here’s the thing: Gyllenhaal isn’t that weird. He’s handsome, and he's exceedingly talented. He thinks it’s super provocative to say something like: “We have a desperation to categorize people who are ‘not normal.’ … Normal, to me, is perverse.” He's really just a leading man trying extremely hard to make you believe that he’s not. This is how he ends up in films like Jean-Marc Vallée’s Demolition, which, much like Gyllenhaal, mistakes zaniness for actual dysfunction, and in doing so comes off as supremely square. Gyllenhaal plays Davis, your garden-variety soul-sucked financier. His wife dies, tragically (shouts to WASP dream Heather Lind!), and Davis has what most anyone would consider a total psychotic break. But because this movie is “weird,” that break — in which Davis starts unscrewing, deconstructing, and, well, demolishing everything he can get his hands on — is played for laughs, mostly. Wildly depressed Gyllenhaal buys a bulletproof vest and takes a couple shots to the chest? Hilarious! Clearly-losing-it Jake wields a sledgehammer? Raucous! To be fair, Gyllenhaal is great in these moments; he takes a palpable joy in just breaking shit, and it’s not really his fault that the film around him is so haphazardly assembled. But it’s a waste of a performance, which is becoming a trend for Gyllenhaal. He’s made it clear that he’s unwilling to play the superstar game, and that’s admirable, until you start taking on movies like Demolition or Prisoners or even Southpaw. (I’ll give him a pass for Nightcrawler.) The roles the dude clearly excels in — men pushed to their breaking points, guys who are charmingly bad at behaving correctly — have all migrated to TV, and the ones left are either awards bait or spandex’d morality plays. So here’s our Jake, swinging a sledgehammer toward too-easy resolution and “challenging himself” in a movie that no one saw. Enough. Let us cast the gauntlet: Get weird, Jake. Actually weird. Like, plays-an-ancient-turtle-trapped-in-a-man’s-body weird. (We’d also take Nightcrawler weird again. That was good.) Or, hell: Just go star in a Bourne movie, already. Just get out of this fake-weird middle. Amazon Don’t Call It a Rom-Com By Allison P. Davis Catastrophe, the British series about an unplanned pregnancy and a rushed marriage, has been called a “rom-com for grown-ups.” Spoiler alert for Season 2, which debuted Friday on Amazon: That no longer applies. The excellent, if uncomfortable, new season picks up three years later, when Rob (Rob Delaney) and Sharon (Sharon Horgan) are parents to two children and fully in the zone of marital struggle. Below, the five moments that make Catastrophe the worst rom-com — but also one of the best shows — on television: Sharon won’t have sex with Rob because she needs to finish the random show she’s watching in between the end of Mad Men and the return of Game of Thrones. Rob still has Sharon as “Sharon London Sex” in his phone even though they’ve been married for three years. Sharon admits to Rob that she loves her kids way more than she loves him, while also acknowledging that she’s the last thing Rob thinks about after the kids, work, sleep, and using the toilet, in that order. Two words: sexual raincheck. For their third-anniversary surprise — after two anniversaries spent sitting at a dinner table and crying — Rob arranges a cheese-making class. Getty Images The Second Meaning of ‘tbh’ By Molly McHugh Day one of Facebook Live, Facebook’s new live-streaming feature, was a roller coaster of … actually, it was pretty whatever. A lot of people smoking pot, or being bored, or staring at their laptop cameras while using their phones. Or all three. There were some cute animals, and I even watched a LASIK surgery. Lots of makeup tutorials. And then there were a ton of streams titled “tbh and rate.” If you, like me, are sort of “old” by internet standards but know more about the web than the average person does (or, arguably, should), then you’re likely familiar with “tbh,” or “to be honest.” But “tbh and rate,” used largely by teen internet, has its own definition. If you are very hip, then please spare me the eye roll and just skip to another section of this newsletter. Otherwise, join me on a quick journey into teen internet etymology! “Tbh and rate” is a request to be rated on a scale, usually of 1-10, mostly about how good or bad looking you are, or just how cool you are. Sometimes it’s shortened to “tbh” or “tbh rate, date” or “tbh rate, date, pass” — you get the idea. On Facebook Live, teens mostly stare at the camera or engage in mundane activities while waiting for and responding to ratings. Tbh lives outside of Facebook Live as well. On Instagram and Twitter, popular hashtags include #tbh4tbh (similar to #like4like), #tbhrate, #tbhpics, #tbhratedate, and #tbhandrate. The list goes on and on and on, but the tags convey the same thing: Please look at this live stream, video, or photo of me and tell me what you think. A ratings guide created and used almost exclusively by teens (there are a few versions of it) took over Instagram last year. There are even a few apps designed to ask for ratings, or “tbh’s.” A popular App Store search is “tbh maker,” which yields a slew of text overlay apps, and a quick Instagram search shows how those are used to create fancy tbh photos. The concept of asking the internet for approval has been around as long as the internet has, and it’s gotten a nice boost from the social web. Now, Facebook Live represents a chance to see that phenomenon happen in real time.