NEW ORLEANS -- For two and a half months, the Pelicans fought to get to this moment. Beaten up and ravaged by injuries, left for dead more times than anyone could count, they somehow kept finding a way to make this possible.
This is what you get for trying, Pelicans
The Pelicans did everything they could to get to the postseason. Their reward was a crushing defeat.


From the Anthony Davis double-clutch miracle three in Oklahoma City to the final day of the regular season when New Orleans beat the defending champion Spurs, everything had been building to this game. At home in the playoffs in front of a rabid crowd, it was a day that was years in the making. This may as well have been their Game 7, for if no one seriously believed the Pelicans could take out the vaunted Warriors over a full series, they would always have this game.
For 40 minutes or so, this was everything New Orleans had dreamed about. Anthony Davis was an unstoppable force, Ryan Anderson was draining shots from all over the court and key in-season pickups like Norris Cole and Dante Cunningham were shredding Golden State's defense. The lead built to 20 and the crowd roared for more.
And then it all went to hell.
Stephen Curry walked to the scorers' table, an indication that Golden State wasn't ready to throw in the towel. "I wasn't going to keep him out," coach Steve Kerr said later. "It's the playoffs and he can rest all day tomorrow."
The lead began to dwindle, slowly at first, and the crowd stirred uneasily. The Pelicans couldn't get a defensive rebound. Possessions got tighter. Davis missed a free throw. Suddenly it was a three-point game, Warriors ball, and coach Monty Williams gave instructions to foul. They didn't.
Williams has been killed all year long by the locals for his strategies and in-game tactics. But in the last few months a different feeling has emerged. There’s admiration for the way he kept this team together through all the injuries and for the way Davis has developed from an all-star to an MVP candidate. This sequence wasn’t on Williams, it was on a team that’s still learning how to play through these situations.
“We were supposed to foul,” Williams said. “We’ve had that happen to us a couple of times and we shouldn’t have even had that shot take place. We just didn’t execute and that’s on all of us, but we were supposed to foul.”
That shot was by Curry, the league's premier late-game assassin. Quincy Pondexter closed on him and realized in a split second that if he did foul he'd get him the act of shooting. "It was on me," Pondexter said. "I wanted to foul. I tried to foul but Steph was in his shooting motion. There was no way to really get to him unless you foul and get three shots."
So he took his chances and Curry missed. It wound up in the hands of Mo Speights. He shoveled it back to Curry in the corner, who wasn’t going to miss a second time even as the weight of defenders came crashing down on him.
“I contested it, I saw the ball go that way and somehow Mo came up with an offensive rebound,” Pondexter said. “It was just a terrible bounce. Great play. Bucket.”
From the funeral atmosphere of the Pelicans’ locker room where people talked in hushed whispers to the huge exhale from the other side, the difference can be measured in miles. It’s the relative distance between a team that has been on that other side and experienced all the heartache that playoff basketball can deliver.
“It’s as good as it gets,” said Kerr. “A three with two seconds left, and he got fouled, too. To make that shot shows everything that Steph is about. On a night when he’s not even having a great shooting performance, his confidence level is just off the charts. He’s fearless. He wants every big shot. He hits all the free throws at the end. That’s why he’s Steph Curry.”
After all that there was still an overtime to play and Kerr went back to his starters. His small lineup had got them back in the game but Kerr went with his instincts.
“I just felt like it was a miracle that we had another chance,” Kerr said. “I put (Bogut) back in and told them, ‘Look, we have the best defense in the league for 82 games. We have two guys here who are going to be All-Defense. We got several other guys on the floor who are great defenders. We’ve got a second chance so let’s spend five minutes’ time being a great defensive team.’”
It was the right call. The Warriors opened up a six-point lead, but somehow it still wasn’t over. Up three with 10.9 seconds left, Golden State was called for an off-the-ball foul, perhaps the weirdest interpretation of the Hack-a-Shaq rule we’ve seen. That gave the Pels a free throw and the ball. Davis made it and here again was the moment.
He had been brilliant all night. Davis' stat line of 29 points, 15 rebounds and three blocks didn't come remotely close to explaining his impact. Davis' very presence had thwarted Golden State's high-octane attack. Halfcourt outlet passes that had been made with ease all season long were no longer an option with AD lurking. Shots had to be altered, not at the rim but at the three-point line where New Orleans' aggressive switching defense had Curry and Klay Thompson trying to shoot over Davis' outstretched arms.
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Now he had the ball, isolated on Bogut at the top of the key. He went left like he had all season in similar situations. Bogut stayed with him. For all that he has in his game, Davis doesn’t yet have that go-to move for these situations. With Bogut expertly matching his movements, Davis’ shot had no chance, but at least he had it. These are the moments upon which careers are forged. He will have many, many more chances, but he will never get this first one back.
“I could have had 50 points and we still lost, so it doesn’t matter,” Davis said. “I think I need to do more to try to win, we need to figure it out as a team. No one man is going to win the game. We have to figure out as a team how to execute.”
It seems almost inhumane that this series will continue less than 48 hours later. There’s a chance for New Orleans to salvage some redemption and some professional pride, but this was, as Golden State’s Draymond Green called it, “a gut punch.”
“Down six with a minute and a half to go -- now everything against them, the crowd silent -- they continued to fight,” Green said. “That’s the team they’ve been all year. No matter what situation it’s been -- guys hurt and guys out -- they continue to fight and you have to respect that and give those guys a lot of respect for continuing to fight like that. To go from up 20 in the fourth to down six in OT, and you continue to fight? Utmost respect.”
It seems patronizing to say, but the Pelicans have earned that respect. That's not nothing as they try to build this team and this franchise from the ashes of the Hornets and last days of the ill-fated George Shinn ownership. Simply making the postseason was an accomplishment that should have been their signpost that yes, they are headed in the right direction. Winning this game, however, would have been validation.
“You have to take ownership of it,” Williams said. “You can’t sugarcoat it. We’re all feeling like dirt right now, so obviously you want to build them up, but there is nothing that can build you up in a situation like that. It can be a growth moment for us. It’s just tough. To have the game, and to lose it that way, there is no way to fix it right away. We’ve got to deal with it and own it.”
It’s a devastating thing to see something that was earned over the course of 82 games get taken away in the blink of eight bad minutes, but these are the lessons that can only be learned this time of year. You can’t get them in January and they aren’t in evidence even in the midst of a galvanizing run that takes you through March and on into April.
“We’ve done a lot of good this year and we can’t let a moment like that destroy it,” Williams said. “Like I said, we’ve got to own it. We had it and we let it go and I can’t say it enough, we just didn’t execute in the fourth quarter.”
If they are true to their path, this moment and this game will stay with them over the summer. No one in this league is immune from this kind of experience. Years from now, if they are fortunate, they can look back and see it for what it was: a crushing loss that one day leads to better things and smarter play down the stretch. In the end it was the ultimate playoff lesson, delivered in the cruelest way possible.

















