Dell Demps looks around the room at his dusty monochromatic office and feels very little. His once luxurious chair now ripped, the lever on the side not working properly since 2015. Eternally seating him so low his elbows barely reach his desk.
The tan walls transitioning into the gray floor with a displeasing ease. An old calendar on his wall, no longer signaling the passage of time. Merely a low-grade poster of Anthony Davis getting crushed by the month of January.
The office smells old, the kind of smell that only exists in doctors offices and libraries but nowhere else. He wonders quietly to himself whether this is real but he never lets that small voice reach the forefront.
The New Orleans Pelicans sit at 33-40 with minimal chance of recovery. He sits solemnly as he stares at the NBA standings on his old HP computer. He whispers to himself with a tinge of confusion, “But, everyone said the trade was great.”
He slowly flips through box scores as he sees consistently stellar performances from his star players. Then, a gap between games for Anthony Davis; an injury. A few more games of greatness and then, a few games without DeMarcus Cousins; a suspension.
He furrows his brow as he notices Jameer Nelson getting significantly more minutes than Rajon Rondo. When he sees that Josh Smith played 36 minutes on December 15th and then was cut one week later he blinks hard.
He sees peaks and valleys, winning and losing streaks. He checks his pockets as it shakes and sees a text from Anthony Davis’ agent that simply reads: “AD wants out…ASAP”.
Panic.
He reaches for his mouse as he clicks to open the NBA standings again, furiously trying to figure out anyway the Pels can still reach the playoffs. His body feels warm and dizzy like he just drank three cups of coffee.
His phone buzzes again.
DeMarcus Cousins’ agent, “We are gone.”
His chest now feels so much pressure from the inside, he is forced to stand up. Pacing in his beige office as he tries to convince himself another rebuild will work. He looks down at his brown shoes as they camouflage themselves in with the floor and realizes his chances of success are dwindling.
As he stares, the sound of the metallic A/C ceaselessly runs in the background. He is standing directly in the middle of his office, where he once shook hands with DeMarcus Cousins, where he was first brought interviewed for his new job, where he got the call that Davis was re-signing and again he feels emptiness. He looks around once more as the A/C finally shuts off.
His phone continues to buzz on his desk, a loud shaking noise that usually elicits a quick pick up but he can not move. All he can focus on is the footsteps slowly making their way closer to him in the hallway outside of his door.
He knows whose footsteps those belong to and he knows what’s coming. He closes his eyes as the man enters his room and immediately as the door opens, he opens his eyes in his now colorful office.
His luxurious chair sitting behind his mahogany desk. A fat head of the Pelicans mascot where the calendar hung. He whips around his desk to look at the NBA standings on his Mac computer and with an internal panic, he again sees a poultry record. Three wins, four losses.
His worst fear is not yet real…..but it could be.
Next: Comparing New Orleans Pelicans Players To New Orleans Saints
Happy Halloween, everyone!