Walking through the French Quarter on a humid evening, the distant sound of a saxophone mingling with the scent of beignets, I’m reminded again why New Orleans is unlike any other city—especially when it comes to basketball. As a longtime NBA analyst and someone who’s followed the Pelicans since their Hornets days, I’ve seen this city’s relationship with the game evolve in fascinating ways. It’s not just about the team’s performance on the court; it’s about how basketball here reflects the city itself—resilient, soulful, and always full of surprises. When I think about the current Pelicans squad, one quote from a recent interview with a player really stuck with me, something that captures the essence of team dynamics here. "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," said Porter. That idea of "magka-amuyan"—a Filipino term for getting a feel for each other, like catching someone’s scent—resonates deeply with what makes or breaks a team in a place as unique as New Orleans.
Let’s be real: the Pelicans have had their share of ups and downs, but what keeps fans like me coming back is the raw, unscripted chemistry that develops over time. I remember watching the 2018 playoff run—that sweep of the Trail Blazers felt like a revelation, with Anthony Davis dominating the paint and Jrue Holiday locking down opponents. But since then, it’s been a rollercoaster. Zion Williamson’s arrival in 2019 brought hope, but injuries have plagued his time here; he’s missed over 60% of possible games in his first three seasons, which is just brutal for a franchise betting big on his talent. Still, when he’s on the court, averaging 27 points per game in the 2020-21 season, you see glimpses of something special. It’s that potential that keeps the Smoothie King Center buzzing, even on a Tuesday night against a middling opponent. And it’s not just about star power—role players like Brandon Ingram, who dropped 24 points a game last season, have had to find their rhythm alongside Zion, much like Porter’s comment about adjusting to teammates. In my view, that’s where the Pelicans either excel or stumble: when the pieces don’t quite "magka-amuyan," the offense can look disjointed, leading to those frustrating losses by double digits.
Off the court, basketball in New Orleans is woven into the city’s cultural fabric in a way that’s hard to find elsewhere. I’ve spent years covering NBA cities, and here, the game isn’t just entertainment—it’s a community anchor. Take the Pelicans’ community efforts, like their annual youth camps that draw in around 500 kids each summer, or the way the team partners with local restaurants for post-game events. It’s a far cry from the corporate feel of some franchises, and that authenticity matters. When I chat with fans at a pre-game spot like Manning’s, they’ll tell you stories about the Chris Paul era or debate whether CJ McCollum’s leadership—he’s averaging 20 points and 6 assists since joining—is the missing piece for a deep playoff run. Personally, I think McCollum’s veteran presence is undervalued; he brings a calm that this young squad needs, especially in clutch moments where they’ve historically struggled. Last season, the Pelicans ranked in the bottom third of the league in fourth-quarter efficiency, which is exactly where that teammate adjustment Porter mentioned becomes critical. If they can build that intuitive connection, I’d bet on them making a push for at least the 6th seed in the West next year.
Looking ahead, the future of NBA basketball in New Orleans hinges on more than just wins and losses. As someone who’s seen franchises rise and fall, I believe the Pelicans are at a tipping point. With a roster that’s about 70% homegrown through drafts, they’ve got the foundation, but the front office needs to nail those mid-season trades—like the 2022 deal for Larry Nance Jr., which added much-needed depth. Financially, the team’s valuation has climbed to roughly $1.6 billion, up from $1 billion just five years ago, thanks in part to the city’s booming tourism and loyal fan base. But let’s not sugarcoat it: if Zion can’t stay healthy, that growth could stall. From my perspective, the key is fostering that "magka-amuyan" Porter talked about—whether it’s through more team-building activities in the off-season or leveraging the city’s vibrant culture to create a home-court advantage. I’ve always felt that the Pelicans play their best when the crowd’s energy, fueled by a mix of jazz and cheers, pushes them through tough moments. In the end, basketball here is a story of adaptation, much like the city itself rebuilding after Katrina. It’s messy, emotional, and utterly compelling—and that’s why, as a fan and analyst, I’ll keep watching, hoping this team finds its scent together.