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 4^th 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!