dog walker crosses the street when we lose. doesn't say a word, doesn't need to. respectful about it, informed about it, keeps walking. that's not a fair weather thing, that's a man reading the room correctly. i've watched grown men in press boxes miss reads that obvious. he clocks body language on a leash in under four seconds. tuesday after a loss he adds a block, gives the porch a wide angle, still waves. that's not avoidance, that's professionalism. i respect a read i can't argue with. the tell was never hidden, i'm just the only one on the block who bothers to watch it