It was a couple of hours before the Jazz were to play San Antonio and 22 hours after they had played the Thunder at Oklahoma City in the last game of a six-game road trip. Nothing quite says “Welcome home” like the tail end of a back-to-back against the Spurs.
Snyder was still in warm-up gear, over on a quiet side of a hallway through the inner bowels of Vivint Arena, not yet decked out in his usual stylish European-cut battle wear.
Accompanied with that expression, though, was a calmness, almost a certitude in the coach that … well, hell could go to hell.