MEMPHIS, Tenn. -- The genesis for the greatest fourth-quarter comeback in NBA playoffs history had roots far from here, far from Reggie Evans' raging, far from Chris Paul's coaxing and far from the imperviousness of Nick Young's unconscionable conscience.
It came six weeks ago, in a locker room that was closed to reporters (and coaches) for more than an hour after the Los Angeles Clippers lost to a Phoenix Suns team that was resting Steve Nash and Grant Hill. One by one, each player went around the room and spoke about what he could offer the team.
"We just decided that more than anything else, we're going to play hard and go hard for one another," forward Caron Butler said. "Obviously, you play hard for the organization, but we play for one another. The guys work hard for each other, and the basketball gods keep rewarding us."
The bestowing of gifts, such as the Clippers' stunning rally from a 24-point deficit in the final eight minutes to win the opener of their Western Conference first-round series against the Memphis Grizzlies 99-98, was not readily apparent.
The following week the Clippers lost three games in three nights, prompting a report that coach Vinny Del Negro had lost control of the team and was on the verge of getting fired.
But slowly and steadily, the pledges made during that meeting began to take hold, and a determination formed that has become the identity of a team that has been built -- and reconstructed -- in a matter of months.
Who knew that Lob City would be populated by Comeback Kids?
The Clippers' victory Sunday was their league-leading 15th game win in which they trailed by double figures, also their ninth in the six weeks since that meeting.
Even in defeat, the Clippers have gone down like Rasputin. They cut an 18-point fourth-quarter deficit to one against the New York Knicks and a 13-point fourth-quarter deficit against the Atlanta Hawks to four with a 1:02 left in losses last week. Three weeks ago, they closed a 17-point fourth-quarter deficit against Memphis to three.
You can bet nobody clicks off the TV during Game 2 on Wednesday until it really is over.
As remarkable as this has been, even more extraordinary is that it seems to have come from nowhere. The Clippers, in many respects, are a team that should be coming apart when they get in a hole, not coming together.
Remember, this is a franchise with zero mystique. It's not the Los Angeles Lakers or Boston Celtics, or even a team feeding off historical hubris like the Knicks. The Clippers' most renowned clutch player, Chauncey Billups, aka Mr. Big Shot, has been out nearly three months because of a torn Achilles tendon. Nobody looks to Del Negro for any Zen-like pearls of wisdom.
This isn't a case of familiarity or shared history fertilizing team character. Nine of the 15 players on the roster weren't on the team when the lockout ended. Similarly, nine of the 15 players on the roster can be free agents when the season ends, so NBA culture dictates that when everything is deteriorating on the court, everyone goes off trying to get their numbers, right?
The catalyst for these comebacks -- as he was Sunday -- has been Paul, whom Denver Nuggets coach George Karl recently dubbed the NBA's best fourth-quarter player. Though he was nursing a strained groin, Paul pleaded with Del Negro to go back into the game with just under 10 minutes left to play and the Clippers down 21.
"It's like a general," Clippers general manager Neil Olshey said. "If the general is the first guy in the battle line, you follow him. When Chris Paul wants to go back in a game nursing a groin injury down 21, he's not doing it to make the loss more palatable, he's not doing it to make the loss more cosmetic, he's not doing it to get numbers. He's doing it because he thinks we have a chance to win. The minute you see him fight through that, then you know, wait a minute, we do have a chance."
But it goes beyond Paul. The Clippers nearly pulled off their biggest comeback of the regular season against the Knicks with Paul sitting on the bench, resting his groin.
"I think it's sort of like a collaboration of all our personalities," Paul said. "We have a lot of different personalities on our team, but one common bond between all of us is that all of us have a story. Everybody has had to work their way up from somewhere or been through some adversity, so when we get down you've just got to figure that it's not the first time we've been here."
Paul plays the game with a scowl, a reminder to himself that he didn't make his high school varsity team until he was a junior, always written off as a kid for being too small.
For others, the adversity has been more real life. Randy Foye and Butler were both incarcerated as teenagers. Young's oldest brother was killed, another was institutionalized for mental illness and he flunked out of two high schools. Evans grew up with his mother and three siblings, each of whom had a different father.
Evans, who grabbed eight fourth-quarter rebounds, played strong defense against Memphis forward Zach Randolph and scored to put the Clippers ahead with 57 seconds left, said of Sunday's comeback: "When you have an opportunity like this . . . It was a struggle. I know struggles in my life. If you grew up the way I grew up, we didn't really have too much. Now you have the opportunity where things are really good for you -- you have to be ready at all costs, coming from the bottom all the way up."
Foye was more succinct. "There's a lot of fight in us," he said.
That was evident on the sideline for most of the night. As Del Negro huddled with his staff at the start of timeouts, there was no shortage of opinions being voiced on the bench. Paul, Mo Williams, Billups, Evans and even DeAndre Jordan took turns scolding and encouraging their teammates. Kenyon Martin did, too, when he wasn't jawing with a fan who had been heckling him.
With so many strong personalities, and so many certain opinions, what keeps the huddles from blowing up?
"I think we all know what the one common denominator is -- that we don't play the same way the whole game," Martin said. "When we get down, then we start playing as a unit the way we know how. It's not like, `We've got to pass the ball to this guy.' We've got to defend, like I've been preaching since day one. If you defend the same way every night, you have a chance."
So what is it that clicks in?
"You look up at the scoreboard and you're down 15," Martin said with a laugh, tapping his wrist where an imaginary watch sits. "You know that time ain't standing still."
When time began closing in on the Clippers on Sunday, the first one to get moving -- as he usually does -- was second-year guard Eric Bledsoe, hounding the other team's point guard. Evans, another energy player, also provided a boost. Young, whose flurry of three 3-pointers closed the gap to three points, did what he does best -- score. Martin re-entered for the last possession to defend Rudy Gay, who missed a jumper at the buzzer.
Meanwhile, the team's stars, Blake Griffin and Paul, who had combined for three points in the first half, began to play to their reputations in the fourth quarter.
In the middle of March, and earlier, it might have gone the other way.
"I think that was happening," Olshey said. "Guys were getting out of their lanes, and they were trying to do more than we were asking them to do. Vinny and the coaching staff have been doing a great job down the stretch, during the winning streak, of saying as long as you do what we're asking you to do, we'll put you in positions to look good.
"We've gotten to the point where, if you do what you were brought here to do, we'll be successful as a group and then you'll be successful as an individual and you'll share in the team's success."
Olshey, a former actor, paused for a moment to consider the confluence of concepts he has long been familiar with, motivation and bigger stages.
"One thing I know," he said. "As a general manager, doing things well on TNT during the playoffs means a lot more than doing it well when nobody's watching on a Tuesday night."
And with the Clippers, there's little doubt that they'll be watching until the very end.
