Stephen Curry put on another MVP performance in Game 1 of the Western Conference Finals, dropping 34 points on the Rockets and a barrage of amazing shots.

But it was his two-year old daughter, Riley, who stole the show at Curry’s press conference. And unless you’ve been living under a rock since the game, you’ve probably seen it by now:

The popular consensus from fans and media members alike was that it was adorable. And how was it not? Telling his dad to “be quiet,” yawning like she has no idea she’s on national television, crawling under the table and just doing everything an adorable baby does. She was trending on social media in minutes, everyone was gushing about her, and it was a nice, feel-good story after a dramatic, feel-good win where her father put on a dominant performance.

Ah, but every feel-good story has its grumpy detractors, and in this case, it was grumpy sportswriters appalled at the idea of stars bringing their kids to a press conference.

I’ve never heard of Brett Friedlander of the StarNewsOnline before today, but congrats, Brett, now I do:

He deleted that tweet presumably because he couldn’t take the overwhelming criticism, then threw out another tweet complaining that he couldn’t have “intelligent discussion” on Twitter. Yes, because the conversation he just started on “Steph Curry’s kid” was so “intelligent” that literally every response to it was negative and he blocked anyone who dared to dissent.

And then there’s Skip Bayless and Brian Windhorst, who spent nearly eight minutes griping about a two-year old baby on ESPN’s First Take:

The partial transcript runs below, which was transcribed by yours truly and generated quite a reaction on Twitter:

Windhorst: “As a member of the media – even though I know it’s cute and great for social media – who wants to ask the players about the game in a business setting, it is counterproductive. It takes away from being able to ask the questions.” Bayless: “She did steal that show last night, which is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. [Steph] has a job to do. [Journalists] are on a tough deadline. They need their quotes and they need to feed their sound or their tape or write their stories. They need quick quotes from Steph about what happened in a fascinating conclusion to a game. I wanted to hear about it because I’m such a Steph fan. I’m sitting in my living room watching this live feed, and Riley is adorable but I’ve seen enough. I’m trying to listen to what Steph’s saying and I can’t even follow it because he can’t complete a sentence because she’s interrupting. After a while I have no idea what Steph said and I badly wanted to hear what he had to say. It got completely disrupted by little Riley stealing the show…it really hurt the process of the journalists getting their quotes from Steph. “I don’t hate children, I’m not an ogre. The NBA’s going to have to make a call to because they preserve the sanctity of the postgame.” Windhorst: “The fans want to see what the player has to say and they can’t do it. Steph Curry could have had some very important quotes that didn’t get reported.”

I can understand that Riley was a distraction, that she took away from what the press conference was supposed to be. I can even see how it made journalists’ jobs tougher and prevented Curry from giving his undivided attention to the questions he was asked.

But where they lose me is their attempt to construe the postgame press conference as some kind of sacred event that shall not be disturbed — the “sanctity of the postgame,” those “very important quotes that didn’t get reported.”

I wonder what Windhorst was expecting Curry to say. Lay out the entire gameplan? Divulge some secret inbounds play? Delve into an emotional speech?

No, it was going to be the exact same deal that every athlete gives at every press conference, which Carlos Murillo touched on in his piece. And while Curry will sit there and give solid answers to questions as he typically does, nothing he might’ve said would have been earth shattering.

I covered roughly half of the San Jose Sharks’ home games this season. I was present at every postgame interview and press conference, and not a single quote I heard jumped off the page. And yes, I’m aware that these are the best athletes in the world taking the time to speak to us (the media), but after a while, you get the sense that nearly every quote has a similar theme on a game-to-game basis. The questions are bland, the answers are blander — “we need to play better,” “good team effort,” “we’ve just got to look ahead.” Very important quotes indeed.

@erichesports @BlueManHoop @LOLKNBR now we’ll never know if it was a team effort, he was just trying to make good shots, or if he thanks god — Douglas E. Rogers (@glowingrec) May 20, 2015

There is a reason why the occasional press conference rant is circulated online — Jim Mora’s “playoffs” rant, Mike Gundy showing off his manhood, Bryan Price dropping 77 F-bombs. It’s because they’re so rare; players and coaches know to keep their emotions in check and stick to boilerplate, cliche answers in public. And I don’t think Curry was in the mood to go on any rampage or meltdown in front of the media on Tuesday night, baby in lap or not.

Heck, the media should be thanking Stephen Curry for bringing his daughter with him and spicing up what otherwise would have been another boring press conference. I would have made that my lede, talked about his daughter’s antics and what a loving father Curry is: an all-around good man on and off the court. It would have been a great story, an invitation to portray Curry as a fun, lovable everyman who happens to be a superstar athlete and has a cute little daughter that the world is suddenly gushing about.

For the most part, that’s what people are doing, and I don’t really want to fuel this inane backlash to the backlash of a player bring a kid to a press conference anymore. But grumpy journalists such as Friedlander, Bayless and Windhorst exist who take “the process” so seriously that they can’t step outside their sports bubble for a second and look at the bigger story.

Oh, and as for the “sanctity of the postgame?” Why doesn’t Skip Bayless complain about this: