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25 Is the New 12, and the Lakers Just Learned It the Hard Way

I turned the game on late, the way you do when a Friday night game is supposed to be background noise, and I caught the score at the exact wrong moment to understand what was happening. Golden State 38, Los Angeles 15, end of the first quarter.

By Marcus OkaforOctober 31, 2026
25 Is the New 12, and the Lakers Just Learned It the Hard Way

I turned the game on late, the way you do when a Friday night game is supposed to be background noise while you do something else, and I caught the score at the exact wrong moment to understand what was happening. Golden State 38, Los Angeles 15, end of the first quarter. Luka Doncic had just put up 21 points in twelve minutes. The Lakers were up by 23, and a few minutes into the second quarter the lead stretched to 25. I thought, fine, this one is cooked. The Warriors would make it respectable, the Lakers would cruise, and I would have a quiet night.

Then the second quarter happened, and it happened in a way that should make every team in this league rethink what a lead actually is.

Golden State won the second quarter 38-15. The exact same score, flipped. By halftime the game was tied 53-53, and the building that had been watching a blowout was suddenly watching something else entirely. The Warriors went on to win 112-95 on Friday, October 30, in San Francisco, in each team's NBA Cup opener. That is a 42-point swing from the worst of it — down 25, up 17 — and it is not just a fun box score. According to the NBA, Golden State became the first team of the shot-clock era to trail by 23 or more points after the first quarter and be tied or better at halftime. The Associated Press added a second piece of history: it was the largest margin of victory in the shot-clock era for a team that trailed by 20 or more points at the end of the first quarter.

Read that again, slowly, because the second half of that sentence is doing a lot of work. Teams have come back from big deficits before. Teams have not, in seventy-plus years of the shot clock, been down this badly after one quarter and then won by this much. This was not a comeback. This was a reversal with a receipt.

And the man standing in the middle of it was the one you would expect, which is its own kind of boring until you look at how he did it. Stephen Curry finished with 31 points, six assists and four rebounds, hitting eight of his 14 three-point attempts — a season high for threes, according to Reuters. He had already torched Minnesota for 44 two nights earlier, so this was not a man finding his rhythm. This was a man who never lost it, waiting for the rest of the game to catch up with him. In the fourth quarter he also passed Dominique Wilkins (26,668 points) for 18th place on the NBA's all-time scoring list, per the Associated Press. A historic comeback and a place on the all-time list in the same night, in a game his team trailed by 25. Curry has a habit of making the absurd look routine, and Friday was that habit at full volume.

But here is the part I keep coming back to, because it is the part that actually explains the game, and it is not Curry. It is the bench. Golden State's reserves outscored the Lakers' bench 50-7. Fifty to seven. That is not a gap, that is a different sport. Brandin Podziemski had 21 points and six assists. De'Anthony Melton had 16, and his seven straight points early in the second quarter were the first crack in the dam — the moment a 25-point lead became 18 and the Lakers, for the first time all night, had to look over their shoulders. Reuters notes that Melton and Curry combined for 21 second-quarter points, outscoring the entire Lakers team (15) by themselves in that quarter.

That is the whole game, right there, in one quarter. One team had a second unit that could change a game. The other team had seven bench points and a superstar who had already done everything a human being can do in a first quarter.

Because let us be fair to Luka Doncic, who deserved better than the ending he got. He finished with 37 points, seven rebounds, five assists and two blocks, on top of that 21-point first quarter on 7-for-12 shooting with five threes. He scored, he created, he did the thing where one player drags an entire offense into competence by sheer force of will. And it still was not enough, because basketball in 2026 is not a game where one brilliant quarter buys you forty-eight minutes. The Lakers built their lead on Doncic's explosion and on Golden State's turnovers — Los Angeles turned 17 Warriors turnovers into 25 points, ten of those miscues coming in the opening period. Then the turnovers dried up, the bench gap took over, and the team that had looked unbeatable for a quarter looked gassed and thin for the next three.

The third quarter is where the comeback stopped being a curiosity and became a beating. Golden State trailed 72-63 just past the midpoint of the third, and then ripped off a run that turned the game inside out — a 33-8 flurry, per the game reports, that carried the Warriors to an 85-80 lead entering the fourth. They then scored the first 11 points of the fourth quarter to go up by 17, and the Lakers, who had beaten these same Warriors 127-105 in Los Angeles on October 21, never got closer than 12 again. The final shooting ledger tells the same story as the bench ledger: Golden State outscored Los Angeles 66-33 from three-point range. When a team is making twice as many points from deep as you are, and its bench is outscoring yours by 43, a 25-point lead is not a lead. It is a loan, and the interest rate is brutal.

Warriors coach Steve Kerr said it after the game, in the kind of throwaway line that turns out to be the whole thesis. "What I would tell you guys is that 25, you know, it's the new 12," Kerr said, as reported via ESPN's Anthony Slater. I love that quote because it is not coach-speak. It is arithmetic. In a league where teams shoot this many threes, where a 38-15 quarter can be answered with a 38-15 quarter in the very next twelve minutes, a twelve-point lead used to feel safe and now feels like a coin flip. A 25-point lead used to feel like a coronation. Now it feels like twelve used to feel, which is to say: not safe at all, just ahead.

That is the real story of Friday night, and it is bigger than one game, bigger than the NBA Cup, bigger than a revenge win for an opening-night loss. The Warriors started this season 0-3. They have now won three straight — and Reuters confirms the streak — to get back to 3-3, and they did it by being the deeper, more relentless team over forty-eight minutes rather than the more talented team for twelve. The Lakers, meanwhile, fell to a loss that should bother them more than a normal October defeat, because it exposed the exact thing that kills teams in May: when your star sits, or even just cools off, who scores? On Friday the answer was nobody. Seven bench points is not a bad night. It is a structural problem wearing a bad night's clothes.

I am not going to pretend one October game, even a historic one, decides anything about June. The Warriors are 3-3, not 30-3. The Lakers will win plenty of games on Doncic's brilliance alone, because brilliance like that wins plenty of games. But Friday gave us something rare: a game that doubled as a demonstration. It showed, in the most extreme form the shot-clock era has ever produced, that a lead is only as good as the depth behind it, and that the team with the deeper bench and the hotter three-point math can erase a quarter that looked like a funeral and turn it into a 17-point win.

So the next time you see a team up 25 in the first quarter and you reach for the remote, remember San Francisco on October 30. Remember the 38-15 quarter answered by a 38-15 quarter. Remember the bench scoring 50-7. And remember Kerr, who has seen more basketball than most of us ever will, shrugging at a 25-point deficit like it was a parking ticket. Twenty-five is the new twelve. The Lakers learned it the hard way. The rest of the league should take notes before it has to learn it too.

About the author

Marcus Okafor runs Pixel & Popcorn, a one-person magazine about games, movies, and basketball, out of Brooklyn, NY. More about Marcus →