One of the perks of being a three-time champion is that you can say whatever arrogant things you want, and the basketball world will simply nod along.

When Aces coach Becky Hammon waved off a Game 1 beatdown by saying that her team played like “ass” and only lost by double digits, the basketball world bought the spin.

When she said that rebounding was Las Vegas’ only issue, the first game of the WNBA semifinals series was henceforth framed as a minor accounting error by basketball royalty.

It wasn’t.

Wednesday’s Game 2 proved it.

Because no one can argue that the Golden State Valkyries aren’t up 2-0 in the WNBA semifinals on a lucky bounce or a fluke whistle.

They’re up because, top to bottom, they’ve been flat-out better than the defending champs.

Flukes steal one game in the summer. Flukes don’t snatch both games to start a final-four playoff series.

Flukes don’t leave the mighty Aces in a strange state of desperation as the series heads to the desert.

The Aces talked like a dynastic juggernaut merely annoyed by an unruly swarm of gnats.

Now they’re one loss away from being devoured by that swarm.

When Hammon blamed the glass after Game 1, but said nothing of her team’s perimeter defense.

That was probably by design.

In Game 2, the Valkyries didn’t just win with their trademarks of depth, defense and dauntlessness, and they didn’t just beat Las Vegas on the boards, again (39-32); they also torched them off the dribble like cones.

The Golden State guards turned the Aces’ perimeter containment into a turnstile.

But again, the depth was what truly shined. What makes the Valkyries special isn’t just their suffocating defense. It’s that there are simply too many of them. It never stops.

Golden State coach Natalie Nakase doesn’t run a rotation; she stages an endless deployment of fresh legs and bad intentions.

The Valkyries’ bench outscores everyone in the league, allowing their starters to actually breathe while Las Vegas’ stars run on fumes. By the fourth quarter, A’ja Wilson looked like she was carrying a piano up a flight of stairs while five different Valkyries swarmed her.

Elite defense is great, but elite defense backed by 10 interchangeable athletes who view every loose ball like a lion views a gazelle is terrifying.

Plus: It’s hard to intimidate people who simply refuse to get tired.

Las Vegas hasn’t had an answer for that kind of relentless, wave-after-wave pressure. They’re used to star power winning staredowns, not getting worn down by a recent expansion outfit’s second unit.

And they almost did it Wednesday, coming back from a 17-point deficit to take a late fourth-quarter lead.

Then the Valkyries stared back. After the Aces went on a patented, heart-of-a-champion run to go up 76-74, Gabby Williams hit a big pull-up shot to tie the game with 1:25 to play.

Then a stop — what’s new? — and Veronica Burton 3-pointer gave the Valks a 3-point lead they didn’t relent.

The Aces strutted into this series assuming their championship rings came with automatic fourth-quarter clutch genes. The Valkyries showed up with tape on their fingers, elbows out, and a game plan designed to drag a glitzy dynasty into a back-alley brawl.

The big, bad Aces don’t look so tough now, do they?

No, they look bewildered that their bully act didn’t work on an outfit born yesterday.

The Valkyries sit one victory away from the WNBA Finals in just their second year of existence.

Unprecedented? You bet. Preposterous? Absolutely.

But surprising?

Not if you’ve been paying attention.

Though, I must admit, I did think this would be more of a series.

If Hammon wants to keep telling reporters that it’s just about rebounding, she can. Champions get that right.

But scoreboard says something else entirely.

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