Warriors and Pelicans, David and Goliath

The way that Stephen Curry dances through the NBA's defenses makes no sense, while also looking entirely too reasonable. His superhuman handle and bulletproof confidence enable him to skate more easily through protean, state-of-the-art defensive coverages designed specifically to stop him than most of us negotiate our way through grocery store aisles. Packed in or spread out or double-teamed or zoned, he reliably finds the few inches he needs to punish teams with his three-point slingshot, or to make passes that punish defenses for focusing on him. The Golden State Warriors have been so good that their most difficult springtime task has been destroying the opposition with any modesty; the greatest challenge Curry has faced this year, it seems, is continuing to appear humble in the face of his own all-destroying awesomeness.

And modest the Warriors have not been. It's hard to be humble when you're duncing Chris Paul on the Twitter-tron, and Golden State has been emboldened by Curry's wizardry, first-year coach Steve Kerr and his staff's hyper-intelligent tactics, Draymond Green's tongue, and Klay Thompson's bananas 37-point quarter. They're walking a very fine line between swagger and hubris as the NBA Playoffs begin, and it could hardly be any other way. In their first round matchup against the New Orleans Pelicans, Golden State's biggest issue might be that they've flown too close to the sun, and no longer fear God and Anthony Davis as they should. Just last week, they learned what kind of smiting was in store for those who underestimate Davis.

New Orleans, fighting for their postseason lives, upset Golden State 103-100 behind Davis' 29 points, 10 rebounds and four blocks on April 7. This came after the Warriors reportedly talked some pretty arrogant trash before the contest. "They came out and said this was going to be a scrimmage game," Davis said. "We kind of took that personally."

Davis, of course, is the greatest 21-year-old the NBA has ever seen, either since LeBron James or ever, depending on your perspective. If Curry's scheme-breaking range is the future of the game, the Unibrow's terrifying length and unlimited skills are arguably its endpoint, the final product of its evolution. The Chicago native has already entered a rare air of player efficiency ratings, netting a league-leading 31.06 shortly after he turned a legal drinking age. This makes for the eleventh most efficient season of all time; only LeBron James, Michael Jordan, and Wilt Chamberlain have ever done better.

The list of things Davis can't do at an elite level on a basketball court is very short, and shrinking every day. Watching this nascent phase of his superstar ascent, as the leader of an underdog, going up against juggernaut in the playoffs, this feels like a rite of passage—like Michael going apeshit on the Celtics for 63 points, like Durant and Westbrook putting a scare into Kobe and the defending champion Lakers five years ago, or like Steph himself nearly derailing the Finals-bound Spurs before tweaking his ankle, just two postseasons ago.

The dream of Pelicans fan dreams—and for haters of the Warriors warship—is that fate plays a cruel trick, and we witness a painfully poetic reversal of 2007's "We Believe" Golden State outfit. That team, like New Orleans, was an eight seed going up against a dominant squad led by a superstar at something like his peak; led by a never-better Dirk Nowitzki, those Mavericks had won 67 games, the same tally as this year's Warriors. This possibility is not totally out of play, because Oakland's team is not invincible.

That being said, though, the Pelicans are horribly outmatched; the Warriors are probably going to win this series, and they might even do it quite easily. If their brashness is going to get the best of them, it will likely happen deeper in the postseason. It's damn near impossible to guard what Golden State does on the perimeter, and the Pelicans are not the team equipped to do it; that's the Spurs. But Davis and his under-sung cast make for a fascinating foil, and when he's at his best—making any easy opportunities near the rim all but impossible, finishing alley-oops and put-backs that no one has even imagined yet—the supporting cast will hardly matter.

The Warriors-Pelicans series might be the least closely contested pairing in the Western Conference playoffs while still being the most intriguing. Curry's folk hero moment is over, now—he's a household name and an MVP frontrunner, an extremely famous person who chills on White House couches with the president's Portuguese Water Dogs. Steph's Warriors are Goliath, which leaves the David role for Davis and the Pelicans. The odds are not in their favor, but you don't need to be a believer to believe they've got a shot.