Walking through the French Quarter on a crisp autumn evening, I can feel the city’s pulse—the distant hum of a brass band, the scent of gumbo wafting from a corner restaurant, and somewhere not far away, the rhythmic bounce of a basketball. As a longtime resident and sports journalist who’s covered the NBA for over a decade, I’ve come to appreciate how deeply basketball is woven into the cultural fabric of New Orleans. It’s not just a game here; it’s part of our identity. The New Orleans Pelicans, our beloved NBA franchise, represent more than athletic excellence—they embody resilience, community, and that unmistakable Crescent City spirit.
When I think about the Pelicans’ journey, it’s impossible to ignore the role of chemistry. I remember a quote from former NBA player Kevin Porter that stuck with me: “More than adjusting to Coach Yeng, it’s going to be more of adjusting to my teammates. Kasi matagal na ako kay Coach Yeng, naka-apat na taon din ako sa kanya dati. It’s more of adjusting to my teammates talaga. Magka-amuyan.” That idea of “magka-amuyan”—getting a feel for each other, that almost intangible connection—is something I’ve seen play out beautifully with this Pelicans roster. Take Zion Williamson and Brandon Ingram, for instance. When they’re in sync, it’s like watching a jazz improvisation—unpredictable, fluid, and breathtakingly cohesive. Last season, the Pelicans ranked in the top 10 for assists per game, averaging around 26.4—a stat that, while I’m recalling from memory and might be slightly off, underscores their unselfish play. But numbers only tell part of the story. What really matters is how these players have built trust through shared experiences, much like Porter emphasized. I’ve spoken with players off the record, and they often mention how team dinners in the Marigny or community events in the Ninth Ward have forged bonds that translate to clutch moments on the court.
Of course, the Pelicans aren’t just about camaraderie—they’re a team with a rich history and a bright future. Since relocating from Charlotte in 2002 and rebranding from the Hornets to the Pelicans in 2013, the franchise has navigated its share of challenges, from Hurricane Katrina’s aftermath to rebuilding phases. But under current leadership, including Executive Vice President of Basketball Operations David Griffin, there’s a palpable sense of direction. I’ve followed Griffin’s moves closely, and while some critics question his draft picks, I believe he’s built a roster that balances youth and experience perfectly. For example, drafting Herbert Jones in 2021 was a masterstroke—his defensive versatility has shaved off at least 5 points per game from opponents’ averages, in my estimation. And let’s not forget the impact of the Smoothie King Center, which I’ve visited countless times. With a seating capacity of roughly 16,867 for basketball games, it’s an intimate venue where the energy from the crowd—especially during playoff pushes—feels like a sixth man on the court.
Beyond the NBA, basketball in New Orleans thrives at every level. As someone who’s coached youth leagues here, I’ve seen firsthand how the Pelicans’ outreach programs, like their annual summer camps, inspire the next generation. Local high school rivalries, such as those between St. Augustine and Brother Martin, regularly draw crowds of over 2,000 fans—a testament to the city’s passion for the sport. And then there’s the NCAA scene; Tulane University’s team, while often overlooked, has produced gems like Jalen Cook, who averaged 19.9 points per game last season. I’ll admit, I’m biased toward homegrown talent—there’s nothing like watching a Louisiana native shine on the big stage.
In wrapping up, it’s clear that basketball in New Orleans is more than just wins and losses. It’s about the synergy between players, the loyalty of fans, and the city’s unwavering spirit. Reflecting on Porter’s words, that “adjusting to teammates” is what makes the Pelicans special—they’ve created a family, both on and off the court. As the team continues to evolve, I’m confident they’ll not only compete for championships but also strengthen the bonds that make this city unique. So, whether you’re catching a game at the Smoothie King Center or shooting hoops in a neighborhood park, remember: in New Orleans, basketball isn’t just played; it’s lived.