By the time it happens, it’s too late.
That moment Isaiah Thomas jogs up the court, pointing and yelling at his wrist, is the moment the opponent’s soul is already gone.
A defender stares at an empty spot on the floor trying to recount how Thomas’ point B was so different from the point B he’d anticipated.
Others gesture at each other, or the coach, or an official, or at no one at all.
It’s too late, though. The gesturing is more reflex than anything; the final throes of defeat even if those being defeated are too proud to recognize it in the moment.