This is a Warriors’ town.

The love showered by Santa Cruzans on our very own Sea Dubs overflows onto the parent, the Golden State Warriors.

And, as in any intense relationship, there’s a level of ... uncertainty ... that can creep in.

So it was Sunday when an aging Warriors’ squad faced off in an epic and deciding Game 7 against the far younger and more athletic Houston Rockets ... in Houston.

We know this space usually is given over to news developments and opinions, but permit us to cast this contest into something a bit more encompassing than just another game played by millionaire athletes. And it wasn’t even for a championship title, but was just the first round of the NBA playoffs.

For Sunday night’s game will surely go down in Warriors’ lore as yet another tale that will someday be retold in mythic terms.

Consider that the Warriors barely made the playoffs this season and Houston was the second best team, by seeding, in their division.

And that the Warriors, somehow, had jumped to a 3-1 lead the best-of-seven round, needing one more win to move onto the next level.

Instead the team lost twice to the Rockets and both were dismal performances, the second coming at home in San Francisco.

So it was back to Houston, in a sport where home court advantage is most often telling for the home team.

The Warriors were taking the court, in a sport where youth is usually triumphant, with its three best players on the wrong side of the athletic age barrier: Jimmy Butler, almost 36 and injured; Draymond Green, the often out of control raging volcano, 35; and the most transcendent player in the sport, and in all of Bay Area sports, Steph Curry, 37. All with many years of wear and tear on their bodies.

And all with many years of experience in high drama, high profile games including , for Curry and Green and head coach Steve Kerr, winning four NBA championships (Kerr’s son Nick coaches the Santa Cruz Warriors).

But it all starts with Curry, who, even at his age, remains the most feared (in terms of shooting his team to victory with acrobatic three-point shots) and riveting player in basketball. And Houston did everything to stop him — assigning double and triple teams to guard him; pushing him off his treasured three-point line; face-guarding him as soon as he crossed mid-court; and generally manhandling him at all times.

The Rockets’ overriding scheme was this: We will not allow Curry to beat us.

For all that, Curry still found a way to beat them.

Everything that happened Sunday that led to Golden State’s crafty victory was a function of the almost comical attention Curry got from Houston (and will certainly get again in the Warriors’ next series against the Minnesota Timberwolves that begins tonight).

What that meant was Buddy Hield, heretofore on the team’s bench, a jovial player but one who had performed dismally in the previous two games, was left relatively undisturbed Sunday, and proceeded to have the game of his life, making long-range, three-point basket after basket after basket, totaling 33 points overall.

And it meant that the canny Butler was able to maneuver for his signature pull-up jump shots over Houston’s towering front line for key baskets.

And with Green harnessing his emotions, for the most part, and remaining focused throughout on his essential role of defending (and psychological tweaking of Houston’s young athletes), Curry was able to wait in the wings without scoring much at all. That is, until the trap was sprung on Houston and he began raining three point shots to put the game away, leading to his familiar “night-night” gesture aimed for the cameras and toward the hostile fans and opposing team’s bench.

The Warriors and Curry could lose the next series. And, yes, 37 is 37, and time stops for no one. Eventually, perhaps soon, the immutable laws of aging will bring the curtain down on the reign of the most dazzling, approachable and community minded, athlete to ever grace sports in our area.

But not yet, not yet.