Thursday, December 29, 2011

Second Verse, Same as the First (Only Worse!)


Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse (on the court) than it did in our blowout loss to Miami, I was once again proven wrong. A young athletic Denver team came into our house and again handed us a horrible loss. I let myself have a glimmer of hope while watching the first quarter as both teams traded baskets early on and kept it close. But towards the end of the first twelve minutes, the Nuggets went on the first of three ridiculous runs and pulled away, leading to a 69-42 halftime hole for the Mavs. My first reaction was sound the horns, red alert, this season is going to suck big ones. But being the LOYAL fan that I am, and always have been, I couldn’t give up on my time.
As Coach Carlisle said all last season, this is a process. And much more so in this work stoppage shortened season, with virtually no training camp or exhibition games, and barely time for a practice in between the games that count. Dallas revamped nearly half of their team, and there are definitely going to be some growing pains involved. But that doesn’t mean people should count the boys in blue out, as so many have already decided to do. They may look rough now, but given time to gel and more chances to learn each other’s games, strengths and weaknesses, and discover their new defensive identity, there are plenty of viable veteran pieces in place that could have a legitimate shot at repeating their playoff success from last year.  The key is just being able to MAKE the playoffs. And being patient – with each other, with the system, with the whole process.
Watching last night, fans in the AAC were booing so loudly I could hear them over my television at home. I was flabbergasted. How could these same fans that turned out in droves to see the banner raised to the rafters, clapping and cheering, be booing this same group of guys 24 hours later? Granted, there are times when, watching from my recliner, I get so aggravated at the team that I scream and curse a blue streak and maybe boo just a little. But I would never dream of booing my boys live and in person! Because there’s one thing I have learned about this team over the past few years: they may not have the best players, the most talent, or the biggest name in basketball, but the one thing they do have, unquestionably, is heart. And they leave it on the floor, night in and night out.
That was especially true for late addition Sean Williams, formerly of the New Jersey Nets, who literally lost his lunch while sitting on the sidelines.  But more memorable than his projectile puking was the time he actually spent on the court. In only 11 minutes, he had 12 points and four rebounds, a steal and a blocked shot. But what I found most impressive was his energy and ability to move up and down the floor. I was talking to my mother-in-law and had only been half paying attention to the game when I noticed an unfamiliar face literally soaring through the air, high above the rim. The more I watched, the more I liked him. Sean Williams, or "Crabman" as Skin Wade so dubbed him (as in My Name is Earl), was playing his tail off in game that was already a lost cause. In a game with few bright spots, Crabman shined the brightest. 
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People are already talking, media and former Mavericks alike, already writing off my team ass if there is no hope of Dallas defending their title. But I strongly disagree. It may not look like it at the moment, but as long as the Mavericks muddle their way through the season and can find their way into the playoff picture, all bets are off. Because one thing I've learned from watching sports so many seasons: anyone can make a title run given the opportunity. You don't always have to be the best team to win the title; you simply have to be the hottest.
I WILL ALWAYS BELIEVE!!
GO MAVS!

One Moment in Time, 31 Years in the Making


It was such a great feeling to set foot back inside the AAC in anticipation of real live NBA basketball once more! Dad and I said our hellos to friends, grabbed a bite to eat, and made it to our seats a good bit before the banner ceremony. I can’t speak for Dad, but I was like a kid in a candy store, just happy to be there, awaiting the awesomeness that would soon be surrounding me. Looking around the arena, I was a bit disappointed to see so many empty seats – especially in the lower deck – for such an important game. What’s worse, I saw quite a few Heat jerseys in the mix – including the one on a prepubescent little bugger in the row behind us (I’ll revisit him later on!)
But nothing would dampen my spirits on this momentous day. (Well, not until the game actually started anyway.) First, the Heat were escorted off the arena floor – which was a real bummer, because I was itching to watch the “Big Three” be forced to stand there and watch us celebrate kicking their superstar behinds this past summer. The military guard carried the trophy out to midcourt, and Commissioner David Stern stepped into the spotlight amidst a sea of boos. (While I didn’t boo him, I definitely shared the sentiment; not so much because of his history as anti-Cuban and, consequently, anti-Mavs, but due to his purported role in the lockout.) Stern said a few words, represented the trophy to Cuban, and then Mark and Dirk and a few others spoke. Coach Carlisle, to me, was the classiest; he made a point first and foremost not only to thank the behind the scenes folks, but the players who helped earn the title that have since moved on: DeShawn Stevenson, Peja Stojakovic, Corey Brewer, Caron Butler, J.J. Barea, and Tyson Chandler.
Once the speeches were over, the team gathered around the black tarp thingy which concealed the banner and on the count of three, unveiled the championship banner in all its glory. And while there were cheers, it was not nearly as loud as I felt like it should be, given what the team had accomplished and how long true fans like Dad and I had waited for this moment in time. Regardless, years from now when I look back, all I will remember is the sheer beauty and the awe I felt being a part of that moment, 31 years in the making.
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The game itself was…well, ugly. There’s no nice way to put it. Miami apparently felt they had something to prove (maybe they do) and LeBron and D-Wade lashed out at the Mavericks from every angle imaginable. At halftime, we were down by 20 some odd points, and a large portion of the crowd had already begun heading for the exits. Unfortunately, the aforementioned misguided adolescent boy in the LeBron James’ jersey behind us was NOT one of them. He was annoying, obnoxious, and irritating as teenage boys are wont to be. Not to mention loud. Although I did find it entertaining that every time Miami had the ball, all he could say was “Give it to Wade!” Apparently, even he had no faith in King James. What’s even funnier is that I turned to look behind us and saw the kid’s Dad sitting two seats over from him – proudly wearing his Mavs’ blue and looking virtually as annoyed with his son as I was.
About halfway through the 4th quarter, when Miami finally felt secure enough in their lead to sit their starters, Dallas’ third string unit had actually started making a run, cutting what had at one point been over a 30 point deficit in half. At the dead ball timeout after the 6 minute mark, I decided (and Dad agreed with me) that we would stand shoulder to shoulder for the remainder of the game, effectively blocking the Heat kid from seeing the action. Yes, I admit, it was childish, but dang it, it made me feel better. And the kid’s dad knew what we were doing and just laughed it off too. Somehow I doubt that dad will be bringing his son back to a Mavs vs. Heat matchup anytime in the near future.
In the end, yes, we lost the game, and lost it badly. But it was only game 1 of a 66 game season, and it was an emotional day to boot. And years from now, when I look back on this Christmas, none of that will matter. All that will remain is my memory of watching my beloved Mavs finally get the recognition they deserved and having my Dad, who first got me interested in all things Mavs way back when, standing right by my side. It just doesn’t get any better than that!

Best. Christmas.Ever.


Let me begin by saying, THANK YOU, players and owners, for giving me the best gift of all: another season of my beloved NBA basketball, no matter how short and squished it might be. And I’m sure all of my friends, family, and colleagues are just as happy as I am, if for no other reason than Mandi – NBA basketball = MISERY. Not just for me, but for everyone else who should be unfortunate enough to come into contact with me on a daily basis!
As soon as the NBA schedule was released, I was stoked to see the Mavs vs. Heat Christmas day game still on tap, and even more jazzed at the slim chance that I would actually be in attendance at the game. But first there were a few hurdles which Dad and I had to clear. Being as the game was on Christmas day, both Rickey and Mom had to be okay with us missing family time in favor of our favorite sports team. Amazingly, we got the okay but then came the bigger problem: obtaining tickets.
Dad and I tried everything, from pre-sales to the Trading Post, where season ticket holders can resell their seats, according to the site, often at more than face value. Tell me about it! The absolute cheapest seats we found were over $130 EACH way up in the rafters! And as much as I was dying to see my boys RAISE THE BANNER, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t justify spending that much money. So we had resigned ourselves to watching the game on the big screen from the comfort of Dad’s couch.
And then, on December 23, a Christmas miracle happened. “Santa” texted me, asking if I had tickets, and offering to get us some good terrace level seats for about $50 each. Un-freaking-believable. I quickly called Dad, who was all for it, and we regained official clearance from our spouses, and it was a done deal: Dad and I would be inside the AAC  to witness the raising of the 2010-2011 NBA Championship banner! Merry Christmas to us!

Thursday, October 27, 2011

This is My Brain...This is My Brain without NBA Basketball

It’s official: I have lost my flipping mind.

I found myself in a deep dark funk yesterday upon hearing the news that Game 6 of the World Series had been postponed.

I, the self-proclaimed hater of the American national pastime, have become two things I said I would never be: a baseball freak AND a bandwagon fan!

With my beloved NBA in jeopardy of having no season at all, I had to find something or someone to throw my passionate fandom into. Who better for me to get behind than our hometown Texas Rangers, who have endured even more years of title-less irrelevance than did the Dallas Mavericks?

Yes, you read that right. This lifelong basketball junkie has shifted sports and been welcomed with open arms by the multitude of Rangers’ fans in the Metroplex.
It has been exceptionally easy for me to join the legion of local Ranger fans because I can sympathize, as well as empathize, with their plight. I spent over 25 years as loyal, long suffering Mavericks fan before I was finally able to see my team achieve the pinnacle of the sport, winning the NBA title, this past June. Having been through it all before with my team, it was only logical for me to make the switch to the Rangers. (Plus, this is what happens when there’s no @#$%^& NBA!)

Initially I was just killing time, keeping up with the MLB playoffs while still clinging to the hope that the NBA would work something out. But at some point, and I’m not really sure when it happened, I actually became fascinated with the Rangers and their brand of baseball. I started watching the games, reading the box scores, and last week, I even sat in the car – willingly! – in the driveway listening to Game 2 of the World Series on the radio because all the TV’s in the house were tuned to something else. I had only ever listened to baseball on the radio once previously, and that was only because it was to be immediately followed up by a preseason Mavs vs. Spurs showdown. But what I realized this past weekend is this: I would rather watch Ranger baseball than Cowboys football, than any NFL football actually. And even if the Mavericks were playing, I would have chosen to watch Game 4 of the World Series on Sunday night over my Dallas Mavericks! Never in my life did I think I would utter (well, type) those words!

I have a special affection for the Rangers now, and it actually dates back to their World Series run last fall. I don’t know how to explain it really, but as I watched the Rangers advance through the playoffs and finally establish real relevance in their sport, something in the back of my head just told me that 2010-2011 would finally be the Mavericks' year as well. There was no logical connection, it was just a gut feeling. Now virtually every year since the Fairy Godfather (you might know him as Mark Cuban) bought the team and brought my Mavericks out of basketball oblivion, I start as an extreme optimist, believing Dallas has a chance to win it all. But this past year, it was something different, I could just feel it. And for me, that intuitive belief began when I saw the Rangers go where they'd never gone before. It was almost like they had so much good mojo or juju or whatever you wanna call it that they spread it around to the Mavericks -- who turned it into their first championship.

So tonight, as I will sit at work listening to what will hopefully be the final game of the 2011 World Series, I sure hope the Mavericks can return the favor and send good champion vibes all the way to St. Louis. Nothing, aside from the end of the NBA lockout, would make me happier.

LET'S GO RANGERS!!

Play Ball!

My beloved NBA has turned into nothing but a giant joke, and it’s no longer funny. How long is it going to take for the millionaires (players) and billionaires (owners) to sit down, shut up, and get something done? Did we learn nothing from the lockout in 1998? Or more recently, from the complete cancellation of the 2004-2005 NHL season? Is that where we are headed? Sadly, it’s really starting to look like it.

Not being privy to the meetings and the actual negotiations, I can’t speak knowledgeably in favor of one side or the other. I have little sympathy for the owners, who get paid regardless of if there is a season, and not much more for the players who are, let’s face it, all extremely overpaid for what they do: entertain. What I keep thinking of is the little people employed by the NBA, its teams, and the arenas where they play, and wondering how many of them have gone without paychecks. How many have had to find temporary work, or dig into their savings, or make cut backs in their daily lives as a result of the greed on both sides of the negotiating table? I have friends who work for NBA teams and I keep hoping and praying they will remain unaffected, but my gut says it’s just a matter of time before they, too, are looking for work elsewhere.

One thing I am certain of is this: the NBA is slowly but surely alienating its fans. I have been a fan of pro basketball, particularly my Mavericks, since I was in 5th grade – trust me, it’s been a LONG time. But lately, I have become so disgusted with things that I have seriously considered giving up my NBA fandom altogether. Me, the Dallas Mavericks self-proclaimed #1 fan! And it pains me that the thought has even crossed my mind, but I can’t ignore it much longer.

What drives me even more insane is the fact that all this is happening now, when my Mavericks are the reigning NBA champions! Yes, I know this sounds self-centered (ok, team-centered) and probably crazy to anyone out there who isn’t a live-and-die-with-my-team fanatic like myself, but it kills me that the good guys aren’t really getting to fully enjoy their time on top as they should be. It took three plus decades for the Dallas Mavericks to FINALLY win the title and be Numero Uno, and they can’t even bask in the beauty of it all season long…especially since there may not even be a season.

It is utterly ridiculous to me that a group of grown men can’t sit down together and come to a compromise that equally benefits and injures everyone involved, even with the aid of an experienced mediator like Cohen. When the master negotiator gives up, I can’t help but feeling that any prospect of an NBA season this year is completely hopeless.

So where does that leave us??

Monday, June 13, 2011

Cuban is a Class Act




It's no secret I adore Mark Cuban. The man who brought basketball back to the Metroplex is near and dear to my heart. Not only is he the owner of the Dallas Mavericks, he is their biggest fan...except for yours truly, of course!



Last night, Cuban once again showed what a classy guy he can be. Rather than having NBA Commissioner David Stern present him with the Larry O'Brien trophy, a moment I'm sure he has dreamed about for at least a decade, he asked that the award be handed to Donald Carter, original owner of the Dallas Mavericks. As much as he must have wanted to lay hands on that gleaming golden statue, he deferred and allowed the original man behind the Mavericks to have his once in a lifetime moment instead.



Another thing I love about Cuban is that he genuinely cares about his team. Unlike many owners, he doesn't just see the players as an investment; he sees them as a sort of second family, people he cares for off the court as well as on it.



And as much as he loves his team, he loves his fans, too. Cuban has done a great many things to show his support and love of Mavericks' fandom over the years, from lowering ticket prices to thanking the fans for sticking by this team. And to top it off, Cuban said he didn't feel the citizens of Dallas should have to pay for the Mavericks' victory parade; instead, he offered to pay for the whole shebang out of his own pocket. All he cares about is sharing this special moment with us, the fans, both the new and the long-suffering loyal ones alike.



It's actions like that which make Mark Cuban the best owner in the sports kingdom, hands down. Jerry Jones could learn a thing or two from Mark Cuban. In some ways, maybe we all could.

WORLD CHAMPIONS, BABY!




Although I never really doubted my team, I still can't believe this is real.



But it is.



Ladies and gentlemen, the Dallas Mavericks are the 2010-2011 WORLD CHAMPIONS!



And their fans, both old and new, couldn't be happier. Hell, the folks in Cleveland (former home of LeBron James) are so happy they're even thinking about throwing the Mavs a parade too! Surely this is the first time in NBA history THAT has happened, right?



I'm still riding the emotional roller coaster that has been the 2011 playoffs. We're up, we're down, we're hot, we're cold. We got the lead. They made a run. But here we come, fighting our way back into it. Again and again and AGAIN. This postseason, for the Dallas Mavericks and their loyal fans, the NBA really is where amazing happens!



There are a million things running through my mind right now, so much I want to say. But right now, in this moment, words are eluding me. The sheer joy and excitement and pride I feel as a Mavs fan right now is so overwhelming I can't even begin to describe it. One minute I'm cheering and I can't seem to stop smiling. And the next, I'm tearing up and I can't seem to stop crying. This ride has been nothing short of amazing, and it's sweetened all the more by the fact that I've been behind my boys in blue for the long haul. Through the highs and lows, the personal achievements, the failures and now the ultimate success. And I want to say THANK YOU, Dallas Mavericks, for bringing me along for the ride!



While I haven't been here since the inception of this team back in 1980 (cut me a little slack, I was only four!), I have been a tried and true blue Mavs fan for a quarter of a century. I wore my team colors proud back in the day when Uwe Blab and Bill Wennington were a part of the team known as The Chairmen of the Boards, just as much as I did through the dark Dallas decade known as the 1990s, when the Mavericks were the worst team in all of professional sports. And on that infamous day in 2006, when Miami stole away the championship on our floor, crushing the dream for players and fans alike, I was crying right along with my team.



But that nightmare is a thing of the past, forever erased by the fact that, now, the rest of the world can see Dirk Nowitzki and the Dallas Mavericks organization the same way I have always seen them: as true champions.