Pelicans and the Paint: An Unfinished Poem by the Rim

Tonight, the court whispers — and I hear the breath of basketball. I write these lines on a rainy night in Hai Phong, where the sound of Lach Tray stadium still echoes in memory. In an empty corner of a gym in New Orleans, the ball bounces on the hardwood like the uneven pulse of a team trying to find itself. Summer 2026 is ending, and the New Orleans Pelicans preseason starts with one big question: with the league tilting toward the three-pointer, why is a team still choosing to live on shots near the rim?

I have spent thirty-two years watching arenas, listening to the breath of defeat and transcendence. Russia taught me that despair can also be a form of elevation. For the Pelicans, the despair of the past two seasons has been defense. They have ranked among the ten worst defensive teams in the NBA in 2026-25 and 2026-26. Joe Dumars, the team president, has placed his trust in Jamahl Mosley, the coach who built a fearsome defensive unit with the Orlando Magic. But New Orleans is not Orlando. Mosley is facing a reconstruction project, not a simple tactical fix.

Data from NBA.com shows the Pelicans lead the league with 58% of shots coming from the paint. Zion Williamson took 791 paint shots, third in the NBA, and finished at 60.3%, above the league average of 57.8%. The team, however, made only 55.4% of its paint shots, second-worst in the league. That gap suggests too many non-elite finishers are attacking the rim, while Zion remains the only truly efficient engine.

Herbert Jones, a defensive-minded wing, has shot just 31% from three over the last two seasons. Bennedict Mathurin has a career paint shooting mark of 51.5%, below the level expected from a wing who attacks the rim. Dejounte Murray and Trey Murphy III bring steadier scoring, but they cannot erase the fact that too many Pelicans are finishing around the basket without elite touch. Micah Peavy, AJ Johnson, Jaron Pierre Jr., and Trendon Watford add youth and energy, but none has forced an opponent to change a defensive plan.

Jeremiah Fears and Derik Queen, two second-year players expected to take bigger roles, still have to prove themselves. If they do not break out, Mosley will have to manage a thin bench. The preseason schedule, with Indiana, Minnesota, Detroit, Oklahoma City, San Antonio, Portland, and Orlando, will test this defense with ball-handlers such as Jordan Poole, Anthony Edwards, Ja Morant, Tyrese Haliburton, Franz Wagner, and Paolo Banchero. They look at the Pelicans' paint like an open door.

Zion Williamson remains the center of every plan, but his health is always a question mark. He played enough last season to take 791 paint shots, but basketball never promises durability. If Zion is out for a long stretch, the entire interior offense collapses, because no one else on the roster creates rim pressure with the same frequency.

From the outside, it is easy to say the Pelicans are betting everything on Zion. I choose the opposite path. The root of the inefficient paint is not Zion's drives; it is the wings who stop at the edge of the lane. Jones, Mathurin, and Peavy often attack with a half-step instead of taking the three. They turn the paint into a crowded market where not everyone can pay the price. The solution is not necessarily a new lineup. A team does not need to change its frame, only its shot-selection habits.

Mosley's defensive puzzle is even harder. The Magic defended well because of switchable wings and rim protection. The Pelicans lack both. There is no taller center to serve as the last wall, and no long wings to pressure the ball. Mosley is rebuilding a foundation while modern basketball waits for no one.

Heavy paint offense can win a regular-season game, but a playoff series is another story. When the floor shrinks, defenses pack the rim and force non-shooters to make decisions. If the Pelicans still live at 58% paint frequency in April, they will run into a wall they built themselves.

In the final minutes, Mosley can put Zion, Murray, Murphy, and Mathurin on the floor to add more ball-handlers. But without data on pick-and-roll frequency or real three-point volume, I cannot confirm that this late-game plan solves the spacing problem. Elite basketball does not reward stubbornness without shot-selection intelligence.

There is no need to rush a trade. Joe Dumars can wait until the deadline to measure the value of each name. If the team still does not shoot better, he can use flexible contracts to find a three-point wing or a defensive center. The trade market never sleeps, but it never forgives reckless decisions.

The ghostly applause of that summer still echoes in me, like an unfinished poem. The Pelicans enter the new season with an unfinished poem: the paint is where they were born, but it is also where they can be left behind. Mosley can spend the whole season breathing defense into this group. Dumars can wait for the trade deadline to reshape the roster. But basketball makes no promises. Basketball only bounces, and on every bounce there is a verse waiting to be told.