They Don't Have Power Plays In Basketball . . . Right?

Whaddafuck?

I've gone through the rulebook and the ref's guidebook (both available on NBA.com as PDF files, invaluable ammunition in a bar fight), and none of the scenarios listed in the ref's guidebook cover what to do if a team has an extra man on the court and the refs don't notice it before that team scores.

Okay, so we lack precedent. In the spirit of fair play, what is the correct ruling? What's the right thing to do?

1. Basket is discounted and the points are taken off that team's score.

2. A technical foul is assessed to the team. Opposing team shoots uncontested free throw and retains posession.

3. Resume play.

According to the officials present -- who according to the letter of NBA rules have the final say -- the basket was scored before the error was caught and the basket counts.

Bullshit, say I. That troika of grayshirts should be suspended and fined and locked in a room alone with Kevin Garnett for ten minutes. I'm sure Doc Rivers will agree to have him muzzled; you'll probably survive. That field goal came about where one team posessed an unfair advantage over the other due to a clear and unquestionable violation of the rules; ergo, the basket should not count.

If a contest isn't fair, it's meaningless. It stops being a sport and starts being playacting. Having refs when all you want to do is watch ten guys duke it out -- and all the ten guys want to do is play -- is a pain. Why should the players and fans tolerate a league that can't make sure everyone plays fair?

Another day in NBA infamy.
-BJ

Game 31, Dallas Mavericks host Minnesota Timberwolves

Theme: White Zombie, "Soul-Crusher"
Game Info: Try MSN for a nice change of pace

Hey there friends, this is your on-the-spot Know Absolutely Nothing, BJ, coming to you from the AAC with her new intern, MavsMonkey. Say hi MavsMonkey.

Hi MavsMonkey.

Cute. I'm a little busy right this second MavsMonkey, so could you go over the first half?

Yes, Allmighty Evil One. At halftime, I asked The Boss to bleach my fur and make me a NASCAR monkey. Dead legs. No bulling for shots. No fast-breaking. Shot selection on a par with a Tom Green movie -- acutely painful and so not funny. And how was that shit with smacking Dirk in the face not a foul? Coach had the dubious pleasure of being excused from the game in the second; by halftime nineteen thousand ex-Cowboy fans would've been glad to join him. You want to complain about getting booed? Fuck you, you earned every one. Boss, when that kind of shit is all we get, just leave me in the fucking bag already.

. . . agreed. I can't even bring myself to type how much we were down in the third. A lot, let's leave it at that.

But.

About halfway through the third, Dirk got a smack in the face that came yea close to breaking his nose--

Hell-loo! How was that not an ejection?!?

I guess because the fouler didn't curl his hand just right. Here's a can of Sarcasm. Apply liberally.

Wonder why Jet's firing the crowd up and we're still down twenty . . . and wonder why the crowd is in fact fired up?

The tide changed. You could feel it. The Mavs woke up, remembered they were playing a subpar team, and proceeded to turn them into wall hangings. Dirk had problems with his jumper early on -- and from the line he was six-of-ten, I'll chalk it up to the scrambled sinuses and let it go -- and he proceeded to take it in with more force than I've ever seen from him. Jason Kidd demonstrated why the Kidd trade was not a bad idea -- sixteen points, seventeen assists, and another put-a-little-English-on-it pass that's going to make somebody's highlight reel. Dampier had some monster dunks, and Josh Howard is slowly getting back in touch with his offensive awesomeness (though I'm getting annoyed, he specifically promised to quit relying on that step-back jump shot). The Jet was on fucking fire, everything he flung up found nylon. The Timberwolves, instead of sticking with the defensive gameplan that had been working -- outrun, outgun, and stick somebody about thirty pounds heavier on Dirk like a bumper sticker -- started commiting dumb fouls and getting sloppy with the ball. The Minnesota coach had timeouts to use and fouls to give and he neither used nor gave . . . and given the kind of rolls the Mavs went on, a momentum breaker would've helped.

More importantly, the defense locked down. In the second half the T-wolves couldn't shoot for shit. Overall, the energy was much better. In the first half I saw some defensive lapses for which there's simply no excuse.

I'm torn about how to feel about this game. I hope like hell I never see anything like that first half, ever again. This should've been a blowout from the first five seconds.

On the other hand-- let me set the stage for you. Nice weather and no Cowboys. The Organization didn't need to cheat to make it a sellout night. The Painted Fan section, underpopulated all month, was packed -- I was in their overflow section, Standing Room Only in the back of Section 114. A blowout would've made for a deserted arena halfway through the fourth, because Dallas sports fans don't see the point in hanging around unless something's hanging in the balance.

An epic, come-from-behind ass-whipping is what Dallas sports fans live for. Given that the Cowboys missed the playoffs and given that the Stars are minus Morrow, it looks like it's up to the Mavs to save the soul of the DFW sports scene.

And the way last night's game played out, they look up to the challenge. Block and an egoectomy, courtesy of Dr. Nowitzki! Kidd picks your pocket and there goes your lunch money! Monster slam from Diop! J-Ho throws up a prayer with one left on the shot clock and it goes! The Jet bombs your ass from any range!

In terms of basketball, this game's a meh. In terms of building and cultivating a fanbase, it's exactly what the doctor ordered. The biggest comeback in Dallas Mavericks history.

Final: 107-100, Mavericks!
-BJ

An Open Letter to the Dallas Cowboys Fanbase

By birth I am a Michigander, and for my sins I am a Lions fan. Your life might be in the pits, but you have not gotten the Grand Tour.

I'm giving you a week to mourn. After that I don't want to hear it.

How 'bout those Mavs?

Sincerely,
-BJ

Game 26, Dallas Mavericks visit Washington Wizards

Theme: Grendel, "Void Malign"
Game Info: Use da Force, dumbass

After the truly ugly gang-rape in Jersey (Garden State my ass!), a trip to the capital was just what the boys needed. To be fair, the Wiz made it a fight almost down to the wire. The folks in the arena got their money's worth as far as the game goes.

- I don't want to have to get ugly, gentlemen, so let's work on those long-range shots. 'Kay?

- Free-throws attempted by Wizards -- 25. Free-throws attempted by Mavs -- 14. Haven't seen the video so I'm not going to scream "home cooking," I'm-not-I'm-not-I'm-not.

- Well there goes the Triple-Double Threat. Our Mr. Kidd was zero-for-seven, a big fucking donut-hole for seven. On the other hand, I'm not going to say No to four rebounds and eleven assists.

- Antawan Jamison. Actually worth a damn. On this team, any road.

- No we did not hurt Arenas on purpose.

- The end of the game we've got our Three Jacks And A Pair lineup -- the three-point-guard setup of Kidd, Barea, and Terry, with an interchangeable couple of bigish guys. According to Cooperstein, Jason Kidd was able to read the Wizards well enough to catch them in panic-mode in crunch time, so the Mavs kept throwing alley-oops. Dirk was out for a few minutes that just kept going.

- Josh Howard's back, but not really sure of his place in the lineup. The team managed all right in his absence, even learned some shit that'll come in handy later. Josh's adaptability is now what's really in question. Can he accept any variation in his role, either increased or decreased? He'd better. We need him. Or what we can get for him.

- James Singleton is now Jimz. Just so you know.

In The Wash: Another game that's closer than I'd like. On the other hand, the guys got a Win after a truly unmanning loss. So yay. Meantime they're back home on Tuesday for a layover at the AAC before hitting Portland for Christmas. Which I'm here to tell you, if you're a kid, that blows. My heart goes out to the Kidd littleuns, Jet's girls, and the rest of the Mavs kids. It fucking sucks to have your kin away on Christmas for something so meaningless as work.

Final: 97-86, Mavericks
-BJ

Game 25, Dallas Mavericks visit New Jersey Nets

Theme: Combichrist, "Fuck This Shit"
Game Info: Don't fucking talk to me about this one

Not only did we get totally fucked . . . somebody put sand in the Vaseline.

- God Mode got split between Harris and Vince Carter and the Mavs were totally unable to shut either one of them down. They tried man-to-man; Epic Fail. They tried zone; the Nets just shot over it. Bupkis.

- The Kidd Trade happened just as I was getting into the team, so I have no direct familiarity with Devin Harris as a Maverick. By all accounts the Organization expected him to blossom into an All-Star at some point. Just not this soon. Or this dramatically. Or this painfully.

- I'm not familiar with Harris, but I am familiar with Avery Johnson. Looking back, maybe the Organization would've done better to have given up on the coach before giving up on the point guard. Jackass.

- To you guys in the Dirk Is Not A Leader canoe -- what exactly is your critera for leadership? Making sure the unhappy team doesn't murder the coach in his sleep isn't enough?

- By Dirk standards, he had a mediocre night against the Nets. I will now accept that MVP talk at this point is strictly homer talk and shut up. Until he uncorks another fifty point night (it's coming).

- I'm not sure why Hardwood P has Vince Carter clocked as a douche. Other than whaling the snot out of my guys I didn't see any proof of it.

In The Wash: You know what? I'm gonna weasel. Read this for a comprehensive analysis of the Mavs suck factor.

Most of the points this gentleman makes are right on the money. Bass isn't having the year everyone was hoping he'd have, Jason Terry's abilities as a passer are hit-or-miss, and while Dirk's a long way from his Irk-with-no-D days, his defensive skills are nothing to stop alien invasions with.

On the other hand, the Nets need that kind of nads-that-warp-time-and-space performance out of Harris and Carter every night if they're going to make any noise. This is a decent team, but if they make the playoffs it'll be because a lot of other teams screwed up.

The same could be said of the Mavs. If the playoffs started today, we'd be out.

Final: 121-97 (sob!) Nets
-BJ

Game 24, Dallas Mavericks visit Toronto Raptors

Theme: Da Yoopers, "The Second Week of Deer Camp" (it's a Michigander thing)
Game Info: Drink, play cards, and shoot the bull, but never shoot no deer

If you're curious, Deer Camp is a two-week period at the start of firearm deer season in which family and friends spend their vacations in no-mod-cons shacks in the middle of nowhere, not washing, drinking beer, and playing with guns. Also known as the main impetus for building the Mackinac (pronounced Mack-in-naw) Bridge. I've never been, but it actually sounds kinda fun. If you've never had venison, you're missing out.

What does this have to do with the Mavs? Nothing directly, but they're in Toronto tonight, and for some reason I sing Da Yoopers in the shower when I'm feeling homesick for my beloved Great Lakes.

Anywho, I'm biting my fingers watching the play-by-play update itself on NBA.com. I'm at the library right now and my radio can't get a signal.

- I heard enough of the first quarter to know JJ's down, please God nothing major.

- There's 4:23 to go and we're up by ten. After being outscored 33-21 in the first quarter (!). Painful experience has taught me that in basketball there is no such thing as a safe lead, so I'm waiting here and biting my nails.

- Double-double Dirk is at it again. And he was ice cold in the first half.

- Devean George's contribution -- at least in the box -- amounts to four rebounds. Still not getting it.

- Jay-Hoooo! Twenty points in twenty-two minutes. Did I mention that we missed you, man?

And it's official!

Final: 96-86, Mavericks!
-BJ

Game 23, Dallas Mavericks host Denver Nuggets

Theme: Pink Floyd, "Is There Anybody Out There?"
Game Info: Is there anybody out there?

Quiet arena? Don't hang it on me, I was doing my part. To the point of embarassment. Hey, you try doing your face while in a moving car/in a parked car/on board a light rail train.

- How bad did we need this. Denver is second in the conference, playing like a team possessed since they got rid of Iverson. In retrospect, that's looking like a what-were-you-assholes-thinking? move on Detroit's part.

- Okay, can we declare the Viva Barea! period over? I am not slighting JJ. God no. But he's not a Plan A when he's competently defended (no one is). And Denver did that. He served up nine assists, so he knows what to do when that happens. The rest of the team? Not so much.

- Oh shit, Kidd's no longer money from the arc. We've got a problem.

- Back off, Carmelo. It's not anybody's fault yo mama named you for a dessert topping.

- I'm really trying not to play the Blind And Brain Damaged Ref card when it comes to the Mavs. I really am. But it's hard when the Nugs decide their best way to defend Dirk is by putting him in a half-nelson.

- And while we're at it, I could really learn to dislike the Nuggets. I don't remember who it was (I should start bringing a notebook), but on offense, I saw the guy with the ball hook a foot at JJ's ankle. It didn't connect, but if JJ had been about half a step closer he would've tripped.

- What has me mad is this game was winnable. The Nuggets had a stretch late in the game where they weren't shooting for shit. The Mavs could have, and should have, beaten them bloody. They didn't.

- I. Still. Don't. Understand. Why. Devean. George. Is. Getting. Playing. Time.

- Welcome back, J-Ho! We missed you! Just . . . please don't go 1-5 and expect me to not cry. I'll accept that its because you're on restricted minutes and you need time to get back in rhythm. For now.

- We only scored how many points in the paint?!?!?

- Due diligence from the big guy; 27 points and 10 rebounds. A solid night's work from Jason Terry; 19 points. Not enough.

- Richard Carlisle, quote machine; "We couldn't hit a bull in the ass with a bass fiddle. When you're not guarding them and not making shots, you're going to suck." Thank you, Captain Obvious. Extra points for both alliteration and assonance in a single statement.

In The Wash: Well that's it for the homestand. Thank God; I don't think my heart could take much more of this. We did what we were supposed to do; got back to a winning record, officially we're in the playoff picture. We even managed to beat a contending team, nuking Phoenix into the Dark Ages.

However, that doesn't feel true to my heart. On the checklist of Things To Do was a victory that definitively says the Mavs can play with the superheros. And we didn't do that. One can dismiss the Phoenix game as a victory over a team that's busy coming apart at the seams. It took two overtimes for San Antonio to do it, but they kicked our butts. And the Nuggets didn't even need that. Coach waved the white and emptied the bench in the last minute of play.

In perfect frankness I will say that I am not as hopeful for this team as I once was.

Final: 98-88, Nuggets
-BJ

Game 22, Dallas Mavericks host Oklahoma City Thunder

Theme: Shiny Toy Guns, "Le Disko"
Game Info: Hello little boys little toys

Argh! The sad sacks of the NBA; why were they allowed to lead for three fucking quarters?!? Why were they not beaten to within an inch of their lives? Guys . . .

- We won all right. Took some moderate to serious heroics from certain parties to do it though.

- The Viva Barea! period's lost a little of the shine. Only six points, but five assists. DLord, aka The Good King of Numbers, runs down some stats and concludes that JJ isn't nearly the defensive liability one would think. To be honest, the math behind Efficiency Ratings is over my head. I'm going to have to reread The Arbitrarian's columns over at HP, this time with a couple of Algebra and Statistics texts close to hand.

- Dampier had four free throws in the first quarter and bricked all four. It's getting so I'm covering my eyes whenever Damp or Diop go to the line. Please don't make me hate you, guys. I don't like hating you.

- For Four-String, I sing from Sgt. Pepper -- It's getting better all the time . . .

- Seats for Soldiers was cool. The courtside lower bowl seats were all full of vets, either wounded in combat or currently on active duty. The really nifty thing? The Organization extended the invitation to some servicepeople from Oklahoma City, so the Thunder got to play for their guys too.

- Kevin Durant has either climbed over the rookie wall or he got cut a break from the Basketball Gods at the expense of my Mavs (again).

- The Thunder aren't on pace for Worst Record Ever, Durant and Jeff Green look like they're comers, and to be completely fair it's not like the expectations are high for them this year. I think they'll finish the year . . . well under .500 but with a base to build upon. I feel most sorry for Seattle basketball fans. It's not their fault their franchise got shipped out of town via Pony Express.

- We got outrebounded again. Considering the schedule and considering the lack of consistent hustle (God I hate that word!) I'm worried.

- We need J-Ho back. Sooner, not later. I don't know if he was present last night. Given his tasteless remarks regarding the anthem over the summer, his absence wouldn't've been a shock. I hope he was present though, hat off, head down, mouth shut, ready to take whatever disrespect the soldiers had to give.

- Our Jet decided to turn it loose. 28 points, six assists. Hold onto me, pretty baby, if you wanna fly . . .

In The Wash: Oh yeah, Dirk. Well he got a hero's exit from the game in the fourth, with 39 points to tie his season high so far. Given how everyone else looked, I didn't think he'd be out long. Sure enough the Thunder, to their credit, refused to die. So back he came about twenty seconds later. Poor guy, operating under the delusion that he'd only have to play thirty minutes per. The Mavericks, where Hop On Dirk And Hang On happens.

He took thirty shots, and I am perfectly okay with that. His line from the game looks a little something like this:

46 points. 17-30 shooting, including 2-4 three-point shots. 10-10 free-throws. 8 rebounds. 4 assists. 2 blocked shots.

You spell that M-V-P, guys.

Final: 103-99, Mavericks
-BJ

Game 21, Dallas Mavericks host Charlotte Bobcats

Theme: The Aristocats OST, "Everybody Wants To Be A Cat"
Game Info: 'Cause everybody wants to be a cat

Maybe it's because of the slugfest with San Antone or the guys are getting too settled into a routine with being home for a long stretch . . . but is it possible to get pissed off when you win? Because I'm . . . well I wouldn't say pissed off, but I'm not happy.

- The Bobc--ts aren't quite the sad sacks of the NBA, but this is the same team upon whom the Mavs opened a keg of whupazz about a month ago. On top of that, they were shorthanded. A major trade with the Phoenix Suns was announced yesterday and the players traded were not available (the trades weren't final).

- Dirk did a lot of the heavy lifting again, on admittedly subpar 9-21 shooting. I think that's double double 10 so far this season; 23 points, 13 rebounds, 5 assists.

- JJ got another start, but that concept is bumping up against its limitations. He was only 3-7 from the floor. Not exactly an offensive ball of fire. Now I'm not hating on the guy. He's earned his stripes. But he needs to come off the bench, either as a Kidd Alternate or swingman spark plug. And he's the first one to say so.

- Outrebounded? By Charlotte? Guys!

- Leave aside Coach's ranting about how the 'Cats are the hardest working team in the league. A cynic -- and I am one -- might think the Mavs were trying to coast through the game. Bad idea.

- Kidd's shooting percentages have fallen off a bit. Not good.

- All credit to Emeka Okafor for putting the screws on Dirk. Die in your sleep you bastard.

- Come back, J-Ho! Come back!

- Still not moved to hysterics over Devean George. Still not entirely sure why he's getting the start. I'll have to dig into the boxscores, but I think Shawne Williams has made better use of his minutes. Or we could've switched Dirk over to the three and started Bass (who had a fairly decent game). Come on, we've stretched so far as to have three points on the floor at once; is Dirk as a small forward really so great a leap?

- Desagana Diop. Time for Coach to use some coachly magic.

- Gerald Green, working on his fourth or fifth DNP-CD. See above and square it.

- The Mavs Dancers are fucking beautiful. Just FYI.

In The Wash: Dirk's said it a couple of times already; we're not good enough to coast. With anyone. No mercy fucks, gentlemen. I know The Win is all that matters . . . but why are these teams -- Clips, Hawks, Bobcats etc, being allowed to leave the Metroplex with their dignity intact? Quoth My Lord, "Crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of their women." Take the opportunity; break them over your knees.

On the other hand, this is December. Time for fine-tuning, procedural evolution, et cetera et cetera et cetera. The goals here are two; rack up wins and don't get injured.

And as to the absurd idea that the team's playing better without Josh Howard? Look, you don't not miss twenty points and eight rebounds per. If one takes the lineups over the last few games as indicators, the best we've got for backup at small forward is . . . Devean George. Oh dear.

Well the Thunder is in town on Saturday, who actually are the sad sacks of the league right now. It's also Seats for Soldiers night, when floor seat season ticket holders donate their seats to wounded veterans. Should be a nifty night. I'll be there with the Stars'n'Stripes on my cheek. After, the Nuggets visit for the last game of this at-home stretch. They've been playing very decently since they traded Iverson for Billups. As of this morning they're second in the conference. Should be fun.

Final: 95-90, Mavericks
-BJ

I'm Back And I'm Pissed Off

Yo. I'm sorry for the absence. In between game attendance, not being able to access my life from work anymore, and other Real Life shit to deal with I haven't been keeping up dishere blog like I should be. Recaps of the last week will be up momentarily. Except the San Antonio game. I haven't had a chance to look at the tape yet.
-BJ

Report Cards

Okay class, front'n'center. It's time for your first-quarter report cards.

Now, I'm just a student teacher -- that's Ms. BJ to you Mr. Williams and don't think I didn't see that eye-roll -- and your actual grades for the quarter will come from Prof. Fisher. I just want you to know what I think before you go out to the arcade this afternoon [AN: true, the team's hosting a party at a place in Plano, God I wish I could go, video games plus Mavs equals Very Happy Beej].

Please take your seats, I'll be calling you up one at a time.

Barea, Jose Juan "JJ"
A+, with a gold star
What can I say? You've been doing your homework and your in-class work has been spectacular. I know I haven't been very supportive. I've said some unkind things. And I'm sorry, I had no right. You're an excellent student. One of the best in the class. Keep it up!

Bass, Brandon
B-
Is it that you miss your old coach? Is it something else that made you fumble a little the first few weeks of the semester? The grade is what it is because you're capable of improving. And lately you've been doing that, taking care of the little things we all know you do well. You're a natural. And dunks after catching full-court passes? Outta sight.

Carlisle, Rick
no grade
Ahem, yes well. I know it's against protocol, technically, for a student teacher to evaluate the coach. Please pardon me, I thought it would be good for the class. May I give you my impressions? Thank you. I think this group is a work in progress. Yeah I know that's obvious, but logic is right at first. What I'm seeing, and why I'm easy in my mind with you as the leader is I see everyone working together. Homework is on time, everyone is organized, even the kids at the back of the class feel like they're a part of something great. By the end of the school year these men should be playing out of their minds because anything less would be treason to their trade.

Dampier, Erick
B
You do the dirty work and by and large you do it well. The kids on the playground know they will pay if they try and play silly buggers. My only complaint is consistancy. Some nights you're a beast, but other nights you look like a tree.

Diop, Desegana
C-
This should be lower. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. I see sloppy work, I see shot opportunities missed, I see bad judgement. And I see a free-throw percentage just short of shameful. Desagana, free-throws-- this is basic basketball! With you and Erick filling the center position . . . games aren't won at the five, but they sure as hell can be lost there. For your extra homework, shoot a thousand free-throws a day. Every day.

George, Devean
D+
You're here because Dean Cuban and Principal Nelson think you can contribute. I don't see it. Your defense is hit-or-miss, your shot percentage is nothing I want to rely on, and I don't see the effort I want. I don't like not liking you. Please don't make me write you off at the semester break.

Green, Gerald
C
Sigh, I just don't know what I'm going to do with you, young man! You keep saying you're willing to learn, and I keep watching you made bad decisions. I don't see you showing off as much as you have in other classes, which is encouraging. Look, you're surrounded by examples of what an A student looks like, the school is committed to helping you excel. I'm willing to be patient; you should be willing to put in the extra work.

Howard, Josh
Incomplete
How's your paw? Ouch, man. Listen, getting hurt wasn't your fault. Your classmates believe in you and your work up until was solid. The important thing is making sure you're at a hundred percent. If that means staying home from school for a while, I'm okay with that. It's early in the year. What you've missed you can make up later. You might have to accept being asked to sit at the back of the class for a while; please don't let it bother you. The record's not telling the full story. Your classmates miss you.

Kidd, Jason
A-
New ring? Oooh, shiny! Of the upperclassmen in the school, you're a standout. Everyone likes to say how the younger guns can run rings around you; haven't seen it. The only complaint I have is your work isn't as tidy as it could be. Things slip through your fingers sometimes. And you need to remind some of your classmates that just because you can get away with putting the extra flash on your papers doesn't mean they can. Their handwriting isn't as nice; ink splotches everywhere.

Nowitzki, Dirk
A
Well. How do I objectively evaluate the teacher's pet? You stumbled out of the gate, there's no point denying that. I remember the Chicago game and I'm not sure whether to laugh or throw up. So. You're the one who said the best is yet to come. I believe that. And if the roll you're on continues . . . the ring's the thing and you know that. You're doing what you can, and doing it in monster fashion. Keep up the good work. You make us all proud.

Singleton, James
B
Ah, I see the look. You see yourself sliding in the rotation, back into the trunk with the rest of the children. I don't need to give you the lecture about roleplayers being just as important as starters on a basketball team, do I? Course not. You're doing good work.

Stackhouse, Jerry
Incomplete
How's your heel? I'm coping with that myself; hurts like a sonofabitch. You want to transfer classes; okay that's fine. It is to your credit that you're being seen and not heard just lately. If I may be allowed a personal observation -- you're not going to get what you want. Not without throwing mud all over your permanent record. Accept it. And start looking into teaching opportunities.

Terry, Jason
A-
Wow. Just . . . wow. If you're not Sixth Man of the Year this year there is no justice. I love most of what you do, and I love how beautifully you do it. Seriously, you look like a dancer; did you take ballet when you were a teenager? Bless your coach if you did. I love your unselfish attitude, I love how you work to get everyone fired up, I love the Wing Stop radio spot ('Hhhhheeey . . ."). There's only one thing I don't like; your penmanship can get awfully sloppy, loose balls all over the place. For what the class needs, that's not good.

Williams, Shawne
C+
I understand Principal Bird doesn't like you much. I don't see why. Was it just that you weren't happy in Indiana? Are you happier here? Never mind; that's private. You look like you've taken Coach's Prime Directive -- Semper Paratus (Always Prepared) -- to heart and you've been pretty damned good. Not just good; coldly professional. Continue, and the good things will come.

Wright, Antoine
B-
Hey, how's your area? Forget I asked, tacky question. You seem to have hopped right back into the swing of things though. The improvements needed have mostly to do with consistancy. That will come with time and more hard work. You should be at the head of the class.

Okay guys, that's it for today. Have fun at the arcade!

Yes? Oh, thank you! Apple for the teacher.
-BJ

Review Pending

In the Spurs game I was something less than a detached third party; by the end of regulation I was out of my fucking mind. A concise recap will have to wait until I can watch the videotape. Look for it in a few days. After I recover.
-BJ

Game 19, Dallas Mavericks host Atlanta Hawks

Theme: Victor/Victoria, "Crazy World"
Game Info: I love this . . . crazy world

I'm with Coach. This is a Win, against a Hawks team that's sucking much less than it should . . . but the second half could be taken as a tissue sample of everything that's wrong with the Mavs so far this season.

- Outscored by how much in the fourth? Nervous breakdown imminent.

- Another start from JJ, more hardcore hero shit. That layup in the fourth? Fucking awesome. I hereby take back every bad thing I said about the man's mightiness. He's earned the right to be taken seriously by the fanbase, after a season of being called a pet rock and worse. What's nice is he plugs some critical holes in Jason Kidd's game; what's less nice is he's guardable.

- Memo to Dirk; Take More Shots! I trust you! Coach trusts you. The guys trust you. Take more shots!

- This goes back to what everyone calls -- for lack of a better word -- mental toughness. Our Mavs have a bad habit of not responding to fourth-quarter crunch. Part of this is on Nowitzki; so far this year his fourth-quarter production isn't what it should be. Nobody knows this better than the man himself; that should improve.

- The folks that are hating on Jason Kidd . . . they've got grounds, with Devin Harris putting together an All-Star season. What they're overlooking is Jason Kidd's putting together a very respectable body of work. And they're overlooking something; we didn't trade for Kidd to get a capital-S Star. We got one of those. We got him because he makes capital-S Stars play better.

- The bench production continues to be unbe-fuckin-lieveable. However, Diop needs work. Serious work.

- Still no J-Ho. And the constant questions about when he's going to suit up again are starting to bug Coach. Carlisle basically told the press to get off Howard's back about it. Bad vibes, guys.

In The Wash: I'm sorry to be so brief. My main Internet access from work is monitored now; I can't post from the office. I procrastinated in writing this, et cetera et cetera et cetera. Once again, it wasn't as elegant as the Mavs would've liked, but we've taken care of business. It'll remain to be seen if JJ can keep up this level of play. I'm glad his folks were in town to see those games.

Second night of Yours Truly making an ass of herself. This time there was a stage involved. I got pictures; need to get them developed. That's right, until I can find a digital for cheap I'm kickin' it old school. Word.

Final: 100-98, Mavericks
-BJ

Game 18, Dallas Mavericks host Phoenix Suns

Theme: George Thoroughgoode and the Destroyers, "Who Do Ya Love?"
Game Info: Stick this in your Guitar Hero and smoke it

Dear Suns:

Please consider this loss by 15, instead of by 30, is a gift from your gracious hosts, the Dallas Mavericks. Merry Christmas!

- Starting at shooting guard, Number 11, Jose Juan "JJ" Barea-- huh? Hey it worked. I'm not sure if that's indicative of JJ's value as a starter as much as it is the Suns' total inability to play anything resembling defense. Whatever, JJ is on fire and Coach is smart to ride him. Stop sniggering.

- I don't know if anyone's still crying conflict of interest when Dirk and Steve Nash are playing against each other (they were like brothers when Nash was in Dallas, Dirk's godfather to Nash's kids). If there's anybody that lazy, please show them this game.

- I'd be more impressed with Stoudemire if he could make his points without fouling.

- Shaq who?

- Dampier -- just call him the Human Pushbroom. Fourteen rebounds.

- Shawne Williams isn't any such of a much offensively in the games he's played, but on defense, oy vey such a deal. Between the two of them, Damp and Shawne kept the boards sparkling. 26 rebounds between the two of them.

- Our Jet continues to make his case for Sixth Man of the Year. Buzzer-beater at the end of the first quarter, so beautiful as to stop breath.

- To be completely fair, the Suns were trying to rally after getting shredded in New Orleans, and Steve Nash (I actually heard he wasn't going to play) is recovering from a nasty case of "flu-like symptoms." Flu-like symptoms is NBAish for "an illness, possibly self-inflicted, that keeps a player out of a game." The news is saying he dropped seven pounds over the course of it, so I'll buy the flu part. And he was still good for 20 points and 10 assists. Hardcore hero shit.

- Still no J-Ho. I'm starting to be worried.

- Oh yeah, Dirk. 39 points. 17-25 shooting. He got a hero's exit from the game in the fourth. I will be there when he cracks open another fifty point game, this I swear.

In The Wash: Suddenly, things look different out West. Other than the Lakers, there aren't any real standouts. The Hornets have had some problems (and this was supposed to be their breakout year, remember), Denver has really benefitted from trading Iverson for Billups, Tracy McGrady is out for the next three weeks minimum, Portland is looking better than they have any right to, and of the two teams that made elder statesmen Hall Of Fame trades last year -- Dallas and Phoenix . . .

Well let me put it this way. Jason Kidd is quietly putting together a fine season, whereas Shaq is bringing shame upon his house by making the size of his mouth more noteworthy than the size of his game.

If you were watching TNT, I'm the nut with the flag, black lipstick, and the S in MAVS painted wrong way round (sue me, I was looking in a mirror). Suffice it to say, the RPL section is not where to sit if you want to watch a game objectively . . . that's why being a homer rules. I'll detail that experience later.

Final: 112-97, Mavericks!
-BJ

Game 17, Dallas Mavericks host Los Angeles Clippers

Theme: Covenant, "We Want Revolution"
Game Info: Constant evolution

At the time, I was bloody ecstatic. Came yea close to blowing my voice out whilst riding the escalator. Upon reflection though, I'm worried.

- If one looks at the first forty minutes of playing time, the Clips should've won this game. The Mavs weren't getting shit done defensively, weren't attacking the basket, and the jump shots weren't falling.

- Dirk scored 29 points . . . on 10-27 (!) shooting.

- Okay, anybody else want to ask how bad we need Josh Howard? He was in civvies last night. According to the Morning News, his ankle swelled up on him on Tuesday morning and the team's opting to give it time. I'm crossing my fingers for Thursday.

- Maybe it's because I don't know what to look for, but I still fail to see why Devean George is getting the playing time that he's getting.

- I spent most of the second half in a state of nervous collapse. The Clips were outshooting us and beating us on rebounds. I hate booing, but gentlemen, you had it coming. Guys!

- I haven't seen the Golden State series (don't want to, can't make me!), but just by what I was seeing Baron Davis's reputation as a chronic pain in the Mavs' collective ass is deserved. Fucker.

- According to the Morning News, as a Plan Z the Mavs went to zone in the fourth quarter. They also played probably the smallest lineup possible -- Kidd at the point, JJ, Jet, Dirk, and Bass. Hey, it worked. The Clips went dry for the last three minutes.

- And then, thank you God, the threes started landing. Jet started with the bacon-salvation with four minutes left. 26 points on 9-17 shooting, plus three boards and three assists.

- The rest of the bench not too shabby, neither. Bass had a great night, and JJ . . . I hereby repent every time the words "pet rock" crossed my mind over the preseason. Read on.

- So we're down by one, having clawed our way back after three quarters of truly disgusting basketball. Down by fifteen, to the fucking Clippers! Clips take a timeout and the folks break out the flags. We in the audience who had stuck it out (and let me admit this, I was tempted to leave) were getting ready to go nuts.

- It's down to the final minute. Eric Gordon missed a jumper, Kidd came away with the rebound. And he passed it to . . . JJ. Our JJ. My heart shivered as JJ caught, set, and shot. OhmyGodnowayhe'sgonnamakeit-- BINGO!!! Up by two!

- Clips take a shortie, Kidd steals the ball, gets it to Dirk who misses the three. My heart stopped as Al Thornton got the rebound and the Clips moved it up the floor. Terry fouled and the Clips took it out of bounds with six seconds left. Three point shot would've won the game. Baron Davis jacked it . . . and it bounced off the rim. They tried for the second-chance field goal. No good. Dirk grabbed the ball and the clock turned red. Game over! Cue manlovish pig-pile and fans yelling all the way home.

In The Wash: I'm terribly worried by a lot of what I saw. The Mavs are, like it or not, a team the lives or dies by the jump shot. Jump shots are defensible, shut-downable. The Clips collapsed in the fourth quarter, and we were able to take advantage of that.

Of course that's the sober reflection. The shameless homer says, it's like the Mavs woke up in the fourth quarter said, "Hey, this is a sub-.200 team," and proceeded to swat them like flies. The Mavs can now call themselves a winning team with a straight face -- and hey, check it out, we're eighth in the conference right now. The fanbase has a reason to shout "How 'bout those Mavs!" Mainline the hope everybody. We're gonna need it.

Other lessons? We are clutch, we can play small when we need to, you won't like Dirk when he's angry, our bench is a lot deeper than the early season has indicated, Gerald Green is unfortunately not ready to be a major part of the game plan at this stage, but JJ Barea is.

Well that's in the books. Time to gear up for a more honest test of where we are as a team; the Suns are in town tomorrow. I will be representing B3 in the Rowdy Proud and Loud zone, with a pair of goggles in my hair and a flag around my shoulders.

Final: 100-98, Mavericks!
-BJ

Game 16, Dallas Mavericks visit Sacramento Kings

Theme: Metallica, "Motorbreath"
Game Info: Full speed or nothing

The NBA equivalent of two Advil and a piece of chocolate cake. Well, kinda.

- Oh fuck. Antoine Wright, who's made a decent rise in the pecking order, is out with a groin strain.

- No J-Ho. Again. He's day-to-day, but he's been D-to-D since he rolled that ankle. One of three things happening; his foot was hurt worse than the team let on and he's physically incapable of playing, his foot is better but the Mavs are being gentle with it, or he's being kept out for other nondisclosed reasons. Option one is possible, option three less so. Option two is most likely. In any event, I'm doubting him for the Clips game.

- Hack-a-Shaq only works when the hackee is crap from the line. Since none of our guys are crap from the line (with the problematic exception of Diop and please dear God Coach is working with him on that), hacking is not a real good defensive strategy against the Mavericks.

- Dirk! Jabbed the ball away, raced John Salmons for it, flipped it back to Devean George who slammed it home.

- Jet had 24 points, which puts his season-so-far average at 20.1 points per. Sixth Man of the Year, anyone?

- Okay, that downchecks Gerald Green somewhat. Coach is keeping him on a short leash. Coach Ortegel on the Mavs commentating team is at pains to point out the rationale behind that; it's a matter of the kid's poor decision-making under fire (he's more than two years younger than me, I get to call him kid). Red Bull's brain has got to catch up with the rest of him if he's going to make a difference on this team or any other.

- I hope for the sake of the Sactown fanbase the Kings're in rebuild mode. God forbid they have to watch this as a Plan A.

- Define shit job; photographer just past the baseline in a NBA game. JJ was going in for a layup, went out of bounds, and landed butt-first on one of the camera guys. And JJ's a little guy by NBA standards. I mean, you're there, doing the work, not bothering nobody, and BANG! two-hundred plus pounds of power forward lands on you.

- Garbage time; JJ tosses it to Shawne Williams, Bobby Brown knocks it off-path, James Singleton grabs it back and takes it in.

In The Wash: So we split the roadie and the boys're back in town for the next couple weeks. Best case scenario calls for a sweep before we're back out in the world. We could use one. We're at ninth place as things sit right now, and that shit just won't do. We've also got a fanbase that's in need of some serious firing up.

I would go ahead and pencil the Clips game as an automatic Win . . . but the last time I did that the Mavs got their heinies paddled.

Musical Shooting Guard continues. The players seem to be okay with it, for the time being. No rumblings from the locker room, no loaded comments to the sports guys, and if there are any dissenters they're being very careful to keep their sulking private. I wish I could get into the locker room and behind the cliches . . . never happen, of course.

Final: 101-78, Mavericks
-BJ

Game 15, Dallas Mavericks visit Los Angeles Lakers

Theme: Metallica, "Motorbreath"
Game Info: Don't stop for nothing

I wasn't expecting a win, until we were up at the half. Ah Basketball Gods, thou continues to use the Lakers to break spirits and shatter hearts.

You bastards.

- Encouraging. We were doing okay even when the bad guys were pigpiling on Dirk and he wasn't getting shots.

- Less so; Pau Gasol's quit playing like he's my cousin on her No Touchee days. Shit.

- Playing at the two in the second quarter, JJ got some shots he should have framed. The really nifty one was a shot I hope some ambitious physics/calculus teacher uses as a Real Life Example; it went almost straight up and straight down through the hoop. Smile.

- Maybe I'm being hypercritical. Maybe there was some other reason Coach went with Devean George in the second half when it came to fucking Kobe's shit up. And to be fair, George hit a couple of nice threes. But . . . goddamn it, Wright was hanging on.

- I can't help but wonder if the game would've swung the other way had J-Ho been available. But he wasn't.

- Who the fuck is Trevor Ariza?

- Did the refs forget to breathe in the second half? Seriously, no fouls? But that's not a tanget I want to go on, really. It's tempting to blame the refs when the game doesn't go the way you want; it's lazy thinking and (usually) not true.

- That said, our Rick is usually an even-tempered fellow, not at all into the courtside theatrics that made me mutter, "Simmer down Coach," half a dozen times last year. When Rick Carlisle gets slapped with a T, something's up. I don't want to, but I need to take a closer look at that one. He's too smart to give the bad guys free points.

- What's with the cutting the lights? Isn't that pushing it just a little bit? What next, a cheering section that fires blanks into the air? There are limits, dammit.

- Give the Mavs credit; the colors weren't struck until the situation became totally unsalvageable. Kidd and Terry tried their damndest to keep it alive with some clutch threes, but aforementioned Who The Fuck answered right back.

In The Wash: I'm with Coach on not being into moral victories. View the vids and say okay what did we learn from this. This was a winnable game, period-end-of-sentence.

And there's something else. With the way the Lakers have been playing, it's a given that they're going to the playoffs. Which means that in order to get out of the West alive and have a shot at the title the Mavs have got to come up with a way to answer them. As beautifully serindipidous as it would be, I just don't believe we're going to get so lucky as to watch the Lakers suffer a first-round collapse.

Final: 114-107, (sob) Lakers

Postscript:
Dear NBA,
We are all in Deep Shit.
Love,
-BJ

Game 14, Dallas Mavericks host Indiana Pacers

Theme: Rotersand, "Exterminate Annihilate Destroy"
Game Info: Something I can believe in

Fuck you Pacers. Fuck you until you bleed.

- On the one hand, thank you refs for noticing that the Pacers had gone with hacking as a defensive plan. On the other, that call on Dirk at the half was total bullshit. Troy Murphy leaned in and created the contact. Total bullshit.

- Antoine Wright, who's been buried since the earliest part of the season, lit. It. Up. 24 points, good D, smart play . . . and happy birthday to your son, man.

- It was not a good night for our points. Jason Kidd took a shot in the face and had to step out for a minute, league-mandated infectious disease control time-out. The trainer had to see to a cut on his cheekbone. He's all right though. Later, JJ accidently poked himself in the eye going for a rebound. He was back by the end of the game. Oh, and he's the Lightning Bug. Just so you're aware.

- At the half, I was in despair. The score wasn't all that lopsided, but we were down ten boards and were zip in three-point shots. I'm seeing Coach's point; in order for a motion offense to work we've got to get stops.

- And that's where the centers come in. Dampier took one hell of charge, which I'm given to understand he never does. The Fish was mentioning solar eclipses and Hell freezing over. Which, for the record, is not as big a deal as you might think.

- The despair didn't dissipate in the third. For every lightning bolt we put up, the Pacers thundered back. Only down by seven? It felt like more, believe me.

- To Troy Murphy -- die motherfucker. I watched the video; you took a shot at Dirk's knee. Playing tough does not mean playing dirty. And the jersey pull with under thirty seconds left was just stupid.

- But in the fourth we had one major stroke of luck. Jason Terry put up a three that bounced off the rim, went high . . . and dropped through the hoop.

- The league needs to revise its opinion of Kidd not being a scoring threat. As a rule a lot of his shots aren't reliable . . . unless they're longish range and he doesn't fire off the dribble. Kidd made a couple of huge threes in the last two mintues, and thank you God and St. Jude, we're out of the hole.

- Last Mavericks posession, hot-potato series of passes that cut ten seconds off the clock without having to yo-yo the ball and give the defense time to get set up and do something nuts. Great when it works.

- I give the Pacers credit for this; they never gave it up. The last shot of the game was a cute three-ball that cut the deficit to just three points. I know they still lost the game, but they've got things to be proud of. On the other hand, I think that bit about basketball not being a contact sport got lost in the Pacers' interoffice mail.

In The Wash: It was like the Magic game in reverse; we were getting pwned in more ways than I want to think about, but hung tough, avoided settling for jump shots, and managed to scrape together a win. No settling for jumpers, no overrelying on Dirk when it was clear his shots weren't falling, just getting in and getting it done.

I need to watch this game straight through on the tape for a better look at the defense. I rewound and watched some of the second half and Mark and Coach O were talking about zone versus man-to-man. I didn't see it when I was at the game; I wasn't looking carefully.

With the last few games, it seems clear that Jet's our sixth man. Gerald Green sat the game out with a wrap on his back; I hope he didn't do anything drastic to it. J-Ho's still listed as day-to-day. I'm guessing he's going to be back on the floor for the next game. As to the starter's job, that's still up in air. I'm thinking, and this is only a guess, that Coach is going to give it until after this next roadie to settle on one guy.

Um, yeah. The next game. I want the Lakers ground into the dirt. I want Pau Gasol to wilt like ice cream under a heat lamp. I want Bynum's knees to explode. I want Kobe to cry. I really want Dirk to Frenzy and have to be pulled off the Lakers by the entire starting lineup plus Jack Nicholson, blood and torn flesh and litte yellow scraps everywhere, but that's just me.

Final: 106-103, Mavericks!
-BJ

On An Overcast Day, Four Guys Took Their Act Up On A Roof . . .

One of my favorite Beatles songs . . . and the Mavs gleefully ripped it off for an All-Star Music Video. In the backcourt we've got Jason Kidd and Jet Terry on the ballot, and in the frontcourt we've got J-Ho and Dirk. No center, poor Dampier. Not that he'd get it anyway, with Yao Ming's 1,500,000,000 cheering section. But still.

The Organization hosted a little party at Victory Park and handed out hardcopy ballots. Punch the little holes out. 200 ballots for the first 500 people. And the reward for subverting the democratic process? Oh, nothing much . . . just a chance to get Dirk's autograph.

So Yours Truly swung by the fanshop and shelled out thirty bucks she couldn't afford for an awesome thing. Not a jersey; the damn things don't fit and I wouldn't dishonor the man's colors that way anyway.

I have got to get a digital camera. Attendance was sparse, but hell we were having fun. I love the ManiAACs; they're fun and at watching parties and so on they've always been approachable and very kind. In order to use my awesome thing properly I need a length of half-inch PVC pipe and some pull-ties, which of course I totally didn't think to get on Saturday when I was out and about. One of the ManiAACs suggested I just carry it draped over my shoulders a la the Brazil Nut way back when (long story). Win! Thank you!

I didn't realize this, but there's a balcony over the doors that lead out to AT&T Plaza, probably accessible from the Platinum level. There were some folks horsing around on some guitars and a drum kit that had been set up there -- PSA, don't sing Pink Floyd's "Run" when you can't hold the high note and don't know the lyrics, and if you don't know the lyrics, rent The Wall and put on the subtitling. Simple, neh?

So the four potential All-Stars came out post-practise and the video got done. I'm not sure who tore it up on the drums before things got rolling, but they weren't bad. You'll see my awesome thing in the back row. I'm behind it. They left out the best part though, Ringo in the back deadpanning, "Thank you very much, hope we passed the audition." Which would've been perfect, actually.

Lined up and went through the metal detector. Took a picture on behalf of the guy in front of me -- I hope it turns out, my hands were shaking. Then it was my turn.

Um, yeah. Very tall. Built like a reed. Big smile. Very courteous to everyone, even though he had to be tired. Signed the awesome thing. Shook my hand. Hands not as big as I expected, not pawlike at all. Harper's hands. Hid under my hat. Ran before I could embarass myself. You see Shaq, you know the Earth shifts in its orbit when he jumps; Dirk you have to stand beside before you get that he's a foot taller than everybody. And dude please, for the love of whatever you hold holy, grow the hair back.

So that's the first signature on the Awesome Thing. Over the course of the season, I'm planning on getting it signed by everybody I can. It's got room. I'll post pictures when I get a camera.

It's a flag, by the way. Full-size, not one of those dorky little car window things. You'll see it on TV sometime. You know, Phoenix is coming to town on December 4, which is also a Thursday . . . hmm . . . free Mavs game plus (via dogtag) cover-charge-free night at The Church? Potential win-win. Gothalicious with cheese. Can't get the image of Steve Nash in Goth gear out of my head. Blame Jake. (He'd make a good Goth, though . . . so would Dirk for that matter.)
-BJ

In Other News . . .

This falls under the heading of Totally Out The Ass speculation.

Seems like damn near everybody in the NBA is priming their checkbooks and gearing up for the biggest auction since Cash In The Attic debuted. Okay, bad example.

Of all the players in the NBA today, the man who arguably has the best claim to Greatest Of The Post-Jordan Era is Lebron James. According to basketball-reference.com, he averaged 29.1 points, 7.8 rebounds, 7.0 assists, 2 blocks, and 0.8 steals per game last year. And he's only 24 (!), still a young man by NBA standards.

And he's gone on record -- several times -- saying he doesn't want to stay in Cleveland. Which has certain teams not-so-quietly clearing out cap space. James's contract is up in 2010.

Now there's no indication that the slightest thought of Bron-Bron in a Mavs uni hasn't even begun to speculate about the merest possibility of crossing the Organizational mind. But they'd be remiss to not at least run the scenario through . . . especially when Bron-Bron and Jason Kidd have had several instances of public flirting while he was playing for the Nets. That would require keeping Kidd around another couple of years though, and that would eat up too much ready cash. Espeically with both the Nets and the Knicks being quite . . . indiscrete about their lust for Bron-Bron's services.

Argh! As a fan, I'd love having Lebron's ability on my team. Rooting for him might prove to be a bit problematic. My allegience is with the Mavs, of course, but cheering for them's easy because I like and admire most of the players. I don't know how I feel about a player with no demonstrated loyalty to his current organization. The jury in my head is split; some of the panel remind me that this is a business and James has the right to seek a situation more personally and professionally beneficial, and some cross their arms and stubbornly insist that loyalty means something, goddammit.

In a perfect world we'd find a way to get LeBron and still keep Dirk and Kidd. OhmyGod, the insides faint. But that's not possible.
-BJ

Game 13, Dallas Mavericks host Memphis Grizzlies

Theme: Metallica, "Hit The Lights"
Game Info: Slappa da fish

Wasn't pretty . . . but I'll take it.

- Veteren versus youth. Young teams get bored, frustrated, start doing stupid things. Hence the Grizz coach looking like he was going to blow a gasket for most of the duration and hence the disproportionate number of free-throws. It helped that our guys made them, too.

- Marc Gasol looks like he might one day be worth a damn. Please, for your own sake, be classy in all that you do.

- The rook's shut-downable, and thank God.

- I'll admit to panic at halftime. Only up by three with a known history of last-minute production jams -- eeek! To the guy with the kid in the seat next to me, I'm really very sorry for cussing.

- Bench production mostly came from our Jet. Again. As usual. Seriously, outside of Dallas he doesn't get nearly the credit he deserves. How many other big time ballplayers truly do not care what role they get shoved into? He'll start, he'll come off the bench, he'll run the point, he'll play the two, he runs, he jumps . . .

- Devean George's sat out up until now with a bone chip and ligament damage in one hand. His only two points came from the line, one rebound, one steal. In fifteen minutes. No, Mr. Nelson, you're still not off the hook about that.

- Fuck-Yeah moment of the night. Grizz miss, Damp rebounds, flips it to Kidd, Kidd no-look flips it to Singleton, Singleton gets the and-one.

- Two-headed center Damp and Diop, combining for 5 points, 11 rebounds, two assists.

- Oh, and just as an aside, Dirk with 25 points (on 50% shooting) and 10 boards. Just our .50 cal, taking care of business.

In The Wash: In the fourth Coach did something that had my eyebrows up. He had Jason Kidd running the point, but he also had JJ on the floor at the two. I'm not really sure what he was driving at there, unless for some reason he didn't want to sub anyone else back in.

I hope Coach isn't outsmarting himself with regards to the rotation. The mind tricks and carrot-and-stick routine could very easily blow up in his face, and then where are we?

But what the hell. Just our lads, getting it done. As we were leaving the arena, the usher handed us our Taco Bueno vouchers and said, "It's taco time. Finally."

Finally.

Final: 91-76, Mavericks!
-BJ

Game 12, Dallas Mavericks visit Houston Rockets

Theme: Mindless Self Indulgence, "Revenge"
Game Info: Gothalicious with cheese

Luis Scola looks like he wears a wig. Totally irrelevent. But he does.

For last night's outing T-Mac was on the floor, but Ming The Merciless his ownself was out -- apparently the foot he broke last year started acting up. For our part, J-Ho rolled an ankle at the Bobcats game and it wasn't solid enough to play on. He's going to see the doctor today.

For now, our boys are home. And boy, isn't it a relief to come down off that ledge.

- The Jet's flying high! Second quarter, he was on fire, hit his first seven shots. For the game he was 13-21, including a couple of threes. Fucking sweet, dude!

- Shawne Williams wasn't any such of a much scoring wise. What he did do, as Coach Ortegel pointed out, was shut down T-Mac. McGrady came in in the fourth quarter, trying to bring some hardcore hero shit. And thanks to our newest FNG, he got nowhere.

- I wouldn't say Crazy Pills was successfully contained, but his effectiveness was more limited than perhaps the Rockets might've liked.

- The third quarter was like a bad dream. The Rockets didn't get shit done, but neither did the Mavs. I'm not sure where the offensive breakdown occured, on either side.

- It looked like the Rockets were going to rally, with three back-to-back-to-back threes. Give our guys credit, they had no intention of packing it in. Willams missed a three, Bass got the rebound and laid it in. Sweet.

- This is one I think I'm going to have framed; Dirk getting set for a shot, Scola knocked it away, Dirk stepped back to get it back. From that point he shot and hit. From behind the three-point line. So, Sr. Scola, not only did you fail to prevent Nowitzki from scoring, if you hadn't contested that shot it would've only been two points. Myah-nah!

- Memo to Bad Guys. Hacking Dirk's a decent strategy, when the refs have decided not to pay attention. When the refs start noticing, you should back off. Dirk's too good from the line.

- Memo to Dirk. When the guy trying to fuck your shit up's more than four inches shorter the fade-away works. Know it, own it, use it.

- JJ's getting aggressive, which I like. The blown layups? Not so much. He's doing what he's supposed to be doing, at least for now.

- Near the end. Dirk's got the rock, doesn't have a shot, jumps, instead of shooting whips it over to Jet, who catches and cans a three. Fucking beautiful.

In The Wash: Um, what was that about being an old team? Seriously, it's good that Coach's mission statement is about bringing up the younger guys. Dirk and Kidd are still playing 35 minutes plus per game, and that's about five minutes too many. The averages are coming down though, and should continue to do so throughout the season. The Mavs have said they don't need another backup point; I say bullhonkey, JJ's decent but not that good. Please God say they're not serious when they say they like Stephen Mayberry, pleasepleaseplease.

I'll take what I can get as far as wins. Fish pointed out there's a nice long homestand coming up the first part of December, which should help the standings somewhat. The lads have today free -- think they've earned a day off, Coach? -- and Friday the Grizzlies are in town. Oh joy, I'm going to have to listen to my mother make cute Jeremiah Johnson cracks all night. Robert Redford movie. Video proof that it is possible for Redford to turn in a bad performance.

Final: 96-86, Mavericks!
-BJ

Game 11, Dallas Mavericks visit Charlotte Bobcats

Theme: Rob Zombie, "Superbeast"
Game Info: Ragged they come

My day yesterday included a broken bed, a long field trip out to a landfill, a flat tire that needed professional help to change (gorram garage put the nuts on too tight), a long wait in the cold I was assured Texas didn't get (lie!), a miniature nervous breakdown from my roommate and new-minted MFFL (I call her Mom) . . . and, thank you Jesus and St. Jude, a Mavs blowout.

- Sure was nice of the 'Cats to kind of show up and get their butts kicked. Mavs fans, please take note. This is what a bad team looks like. We do not look like that. God forbid we ever look like that. Not with this lineup.

- Less than half the house sold and the guys who were there estimated less than 5000 souls in the building. Yowza. Say what you want about Mark Cuban, his organization knows how to put butts in the seats.

- Fifteen-to-zilch six minutes in? I didn't say it, for fear of invoking the Stat Curse -- and the way the Bobcats were playing, the only way a Stat Curse could've materialized was with an injury. God forbid.

- Our big guns got some decent rests, for once. That'll help against Houston tonight. Last I heard the Rockets were playing without T-Mac.

- Hi Shawne! Williams with first significant playing time was solid. Only four points, but seven rebounds.

- For the second game 'Gana Diop was DNP-CD. Considering how solid we were playing, it makes you wonder if the "doghouse" thing last year, where 'Gana was pretty much buried for no reason anybody could see, didn't have some factual basis. I don't think so though; the matchups just favored a smaller lineup. Coach please tell me you're working with him on those free-throws . . .

- I'm still fretting about turnovers -- this game the ball flipped away from us 17 times. The 'Cats couldn't do shit with them, but as we've seen several times already this season that's not true of most of the teams we're going to touch blades with.

- Paul Pierce is The Truth, I won't deny that . . . but our J-Ho's a plausible story. Some really tasty work . . . but I don't like the turnovers.

- Dirk outscoring an entire starting lineup? And nailing a buzzer-beating three? All is right with the world.

In The Wash: And so we have our first winning streak of the season. I'm not so much fired up as relieved. I know it doesn't prove much, blowing out a team that is or should be in the process of rebuilding. I don't care about what it proves or doesn't prove; I care about the effect it's having on the team's morale. It's easier to perform above and beyond the call if your heart insists that good things will happen when you do.

Anyway, the roadside guy Farmer's Insurance sent out was cool, the person in whose driveway we were stuck was kind enough to offer coffee, we got home okay, and the Mavs are on their way.

Final: 100-83, Mavericks!
-BJ

Learning More All The Time

Via Basketbawful -- and as much as it stinks sometimes to read his roasts of my Mavs, a visit to Basketbawful should be a part of every basketball fan's daily routine -- I found a website that's going to come in very handy when it comes to reading up on and listening to the game.

Like anything else in the modern world basketball has its jargon, shortcuts of phrasing, etc. Some of the fun stuff comes direct from a guy named Chick Hearn, a play-by-play announcer for the Los Angeles Lakers. He was so good that he was simulcast as both the radio and television announcer -- nuff said.

This is probably incomplete -- and if it is feel free to help me add -- but here's what I've found so far.

Chick's Greatest Hits
a thumbnail guide to Chickisms

20 Foot Layup -- named for Jamaal Wilkes, a shot from the baseline
94x50 hunk of wood -- the court
Airball -- a shot that hits nothing
Airmail special -- a strongly blocked shot, often sent far into the crowd, ref Basketbawful 'egoectomy'
Attacking 47 feet -- the front court, the offensive zone
Boo-birds -- fans who boo their own team when they play badly
Brick -- bad shot
Building a house -- player having a bad shooting night, tossing up nothing but bricks
Bunny hop -- traveling, add 'in the pea patch' for traveling in the lane
Call it with Braille -- an easy call for an official, e.g. "even a blind man could've made that call"
Can't throw a pea into the ocean -- a player/team shooting very very badly, e.g. "couldn't hit the broad side of a barn"
Caught with his hand in the cookie jar -- reach-in foul
Charity stripe -- free-throw line
Cosmetic call -- see 'makeup call'
Covered like the rug on your floor -- excellent one-on-one defense
Couldn't beat the Sisters of Mercy -- a team playing very very badly
Count if it goes . . . -- foul in the act of shooting, see 'it goes!!!'
Defense on vacation -- very bad defense
Didn't draw iron -- shot which misses the rim but hits the backboard
Dime store score -- 10 to 5
Dribble-drive -- player drives the basket while dribbling
Faked the floperoo -- a flop so obvious the refs disdain it
Finger roll -- shot where the ball rolls off the shooter's fingers
Fly-swatted -- shot blocked with force and authority, ref Basketbawful 'egoectomy'
Football score -- a score resembling one more often seen in a football game
Four point switch -- team rebounds a missed shot and scores on the fast-break
Frozen rope -- shot with a very flat trajectory, opposite of a rainbow or teardrop
Hippity-hops the dribble -- player dribbling the ball does a little hop step
Ice water in his veins -- player hits a clutch free-throw
It goes!!! -- a made shot when the shooter is fouled while shooting, an and-one situation. See 'count it if it goes'
First and ten -- multiple players are sprawled on the floor after a physical play or diving for the ball, more characteristic of football than basketball
Garbage time -- late-game play, usually with subs, when the outcome is clear-cut, ref Chuck Cooperstein's 'kids and calves'
Give and go -- player passes the ball, makes a quick cut, and receives a return pass
Good Lord and four disciples couldn't beat them tonight! -- team playing very very well
Hanging out to dry -- defender faked out of his shoes, not quite so far as the 'popcorn machine'
Heart-break! -- A shot that appears to go in, but rattles off the rim and misses
He has two chances, slim and none, and slim just left the building -- player that has no chance of success
Human after all -- hot player suddenly makes a mistake
If that goes in, I'm walking home -- when the opponent shoots a shot that is a prayer, a streak, or some amazing shot
Kamikaze steal -- player overcommits to intercept a pass
Leapin' leaner -- a shot made mid-air and off balance
Lots of referees in the building, only three getting paid -- audience heckling an unfavorable call from a ref
Makeup call -- questionable call by a ref to "even out" a previous questionable call that went in the other team's favor
Marge could have made that shot -- a missed shot that was so easy, Hearn's wife Marge could have made it
Matador defense -- poor defense, like waving a flag at a charging bull
Motorcycle in a motordrome -- Ball spins several times around the inside of the rim; can either fall through or rim out
Mustard's off the hot dog -- player makes an unnecessarily flashy play that doesn't work
My grandmother could guard him, and she can't go to her left! -- easy-to-cover player
Nailed to the floor -- defender who never moves at all
Nervous time -- final minutes of a close scoring game; crunch time, clutch time, etc.
No harm, no foul (no blood, no ambulance, no stitches) -- non-call by an official when significant contact did occur, more adjectives means the non-call was more questionable
No-look pass -- pass made to another player without looking at them first
Not a happy camper -- player upset over a call, ref Basketbawful 'Duncan face'
Not Phi Beta Kappa -- dumb play
Pick up the garbage -- player picks up a loose ball and makes an easy shot
Picks pocket -- very quick, close steal
Popcorn machine -- offensive player pump-fakes the defensive player waaaay up into the air and get a wide-open shot; defender who bounces up and down trying to block the shot
Pressure cooker -- see nervous time
On him like a postage stamp -- very tight defense
Shot from way out yonder -- loooooong three
Slam dunk! -- Hearn's most famous phrase; a powerful shot where a player shoves the ball through the hoop from above, hangs on the rim and swings as they bask in being Awesome
Spalding tattooed on his forehead -- in your face shot rejection, ref Basketbawful 'Wilsonburger'
Spending too much time refereeing -- players and coaches wasting time arguing a call
Standing there, combing his hair -- a player uninvolved with the action comes up with the ball and gets an easy shot
Takes him to the third floor and leaves him at the mezzanine -- offensive player pump-fakes a defender and draws a foul when the defensive player leaps
Tattoo dribble -- player dribbling the ball while not moving, as though tattooing the floor with the ball, as he waits for the play to develop
Telegraph a pass -- passer makes it clear which way the ball will go, making it easy to intercept or block
This game's in the refrigerator, the door is closed, the lights are out, the eggs are cooling, the butter's getting hard, and the Jell-O's jigglin'! -- the game's outcome is set; opposite of 'nervous time'
Tightrope act -- saving a ball from going out-of-bounds by rising up on tiptoe and overbalancing
Thought he made it and so did I -- good looking shot that does everything but go in
Throws up a prayer -- wild shot that will need a miracle to go in
Ticky-tack -- foul called when very little contact has been made
Wallet -- player's butt, usually fallen upon
Working on his Wrigleys -- player chewing gum
Yo-yo-ing up and down -- dribbling in one place as if playing with a yo-yo on a string

Sources: http://home.hawaii.rr.com/bsideflash/chickisms.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chick_Hearn

-BJ

Game 10, Dallas Mavericks visit New York Knickerbockers

Theme: Micro Chip League, "New York New York"
Game Info: Be a part of it

Ahem. Anyone else want to talk about how Dirk can't carry a team?

- Mavs down by fifteen in the first? Here we go again.

- I didn't listen to the whole game -- honestly, I don't think my heart could've taken it. I did hear the end of the half and The Sharpshot That Wasn't. God damn you, refs.

- Bass's minutes have been shrinking lately and his stats've suffered as a result. This game wasn't a monster explosion, but he was Taking Care of Business.

- Same cannot be said for our Young Mister Green. He started as shooting guard and came dangerously close to trillion-land. His only stat was an assist in six and a half minutes. So no, he's not starting material yet. I stand by my recommendation as sixth or seventh man.

- JJ. Please keep giving me reasons to like you. A couple of threes is a start. Not letting the offense totally break down when Kidd subs out is mandatory. Giving Coach pep talks? That's just gravy. :-)

- Who the hell is James Singleton? I don't know yet, but I like his double-double. Hey man! M'name's BJ. Pleased ta meetcha!

- Louis Gossett Jr. as Sgt. Foley = Pure Genius.

-Back for the fourth. And halfway through the quarter, when the score stood at 112-105 Knicks, I could feel my heart starting to crack along the fault-lines . . . again.

- And then . . . the Basketball Gods doth smile upon us. From that point on, the Knicks didn't hit a thing. Not. A. Thing. Jet Terry tied it at 112 all. Knicks tried to answer and got nowhere. Overtime.

- And in OT, it's pretty much the D.W. Nowitzki Show. Seven more points, including a gorgeous monster 3. And it's not at all creepy I know Dirk's middle name.

In The Wash: Oh thank God! It's not fun standing on the NBA ledge, watching your team orbit the Black Hole Of Suck and knowing there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. We're not the disaster our record indicates. Let's be fair; the schedule's had two back-to-backs and included six playoff contenders. We're better than 3-7, and with any luck this win is the start of a long stretch of playing like it.

Interestingly, Coach ditched the "traditional center" school of thought for this one. Erick only played four minutes and 'Gana didn't play at all. For this game it worked. The Mavs went down hard in the first and spent the rest of the game clawing back.

As an aside, Stack was in civvies as a DNP-Coach's Decision. That has the journalistic gonads of the DFW sports media twitching. I think Stack and the Mavs are headed for a divorce and it's pretty much up to Stack whether or not it's on harmonious terms.

Tomorrow the guys go up against the Bobcats, who haven't been sucking as much as they should be so far (see the lack of stat curse, Basketball Gods? See? See?), and then they hop over to Houston for another crack at The Invincible Sky-Armada Of Ming The Merciless. Not that I'm bitter or anything, but here's hoping Yao and Company take the ass-kicking of their lives. Fuck you for ruining my opening day. Fuck you to death.

Final: 124-114, Mavericks!
-BJ

Game 9, Dallas Mavericks host Orlando Magic

Theme: Beck, "Loser" (God I hate that song)
Game Info: Over here

First words coming out of the arena? "I must have a drink this instant!"

- Same shit, different day. It was like watching a babysitter try and get a kid to take their medicine; try whatever you might, make whatever noises you want, it's not going to go down. And the Mavs were minus that spoonful of sugar. (Ack! Enough with the musicals, Beej.)

- Superman? Not impressed.

- I don't understand. Or maybe I just don't want to understand. The game tends to go better when one ditches the jump shot for the last ten minutes or so and battles in for points in the paint. So why aren't we doing that? Why is it I could chill a can of Dew when the game hits about the eight-minute mark?

- This was a down-to-the-wire rip-your-heart-in-quarters type of loss. We were up by one with less than a minute to go, they'd dusted off our friend Gary Glitter and cracked out the flags for the first time this season. Then, at the last possible moment . . . Jet Terry lost the ball. Jason Kidd fouled. Got booted out of the game. Gave the Magic free-throws. Posession back to Dallas. J-Ho inbounded it . . . right back at the Magic. They were fouled again. Made another free-throw. Last possession of the game. Jet got the shot, little short-range jumper. And. It. Rimmed. Out.

In The Wash: We beat the shit out of the Magic, except in the one place it counts. This game was ours, baby, and we pissed it away with another outscored-by-ten fourth quarter.

I got no analysis here, nothing that hasn't been talked about already. Do what you have to do to snap out of this, guys. Just don't do it with your shooting hands, 'kay?

For the record, I didn't get that drink. Ice cream is cheaper.

Final: 102-100, Magic
-BJ

Game 8, Dallas Mavericks visit Chicago Bulls

Theme: Combichrist, "What The Fcuk Is Wrong With You?"
Game Info: *click!*

DJ and Monster In Residence Joe Virus snuck that one in last night at The Church, and it perfectly sums up my feelings about this particular outing. Observe the annoyed fat lady aiming her yells at a point roughly a foot and a half over her head.

I didn't know this game was going to be televised; I missed the first quarter. Thank God, I didn't tape it.

And for the first time since I've been watching the Mavs, I'm completely okay with, God forgive me, blaming it on my guy. Bright one . . . what's wrong?

- In a sane universe, Dirk is a matchup nightmare, because he can either kill you from long range or take it in and layup. That's not happening. He is allowing himself to get hoodwinked into fast-feet contests with smaller guys and it's trashing his game. Doesn't help that he gets smacked around more often than not yet only draws a foul when he flops it.

- A bad shooting night is kind of like a bad hair day -- not fun but it happens. Once? I'll buy it. Twice? Well it was against the Lakers. Three times? Against the Chicago Bulls? There's something wrong.

- I might've said this before but it bears repeating. This is a very bad time for Dirk and his jump shot to fall out of love with each other. Woo it. Cherish it. Buy it flowers for Christ's sake!

- The big thing? And what scares me the most? Dirk's not a stupid man, he's got good instincts, he's a perennial All-Star and a goddamn MVP, for fuck's sake. Bad shot selection, letting himself get out-hustled, two turnovers . . . it indicates bad judgement on both ends of the floor. And that's not like him. Where're your brains, in your ass?

In The Wash: That uptempo offense? We're not seeing it. Controlling the pace of the game? We're not seeing that either. A proactive rather than reactive approach to posessions? Nada. Advantages to having a core group of veterens who've played together for a couple years now? Eeent.

What I'm wondering is this. The core of the team's been through a lot together. They're the best players to put on the navy and white. They've taken this franchise to the highest peak it's ever achieved -- Western Conference Champions.

The Organization have tried to preserve that core intact. There're a lot of reasons for doing so -- they work well together, they trust each other, their skill sets mix and match well, they create a good working environment. What I think Misters Cuban and Nelson were trying to do was shortcut the learning curve a little -- they weren't going for a blowup like I suggested way back in June, more like hitting the Reset button. All of which is designed to give Dirk the best working environment possible; he's our ace in the hole, best possible shot at a title.

The Organization either didn't realize, or chose to overlook, something. That same core -- Dirk, Jet, Dampier and Diop, Stack, J-Ho -- have also endured some truly low lows. Individually and as a group they've had to cope with more heartbreak than should be asked of anybody. Fault can be argued forever; the bottom line is they failed. Repeatedly, publicly, and in the most humiliating way possible.

Has the cumulative Murphy's Law Squared* sewage gotten too thick to swim through? If that's the case, then yes, the team needs to be broken up.

On this team, Dirk is God -- it all begins and ends with him. This had better be a dry spell (it happens) and not a sign of deeper problems. I don't doubt he can carry a team and anybody who does wasn't paying attention this summer when Germany made the Olympics. Dirk is clutch, he plays respectable defense, he's a tough motherfucker and the opposite of selfish. Whatever his malfunction, it needs to get fixed. The sooner the better.

Final: 98-91, Bulls
-BJ

*if it can go wrong, it will make a specific point of going wrong, simply to inconvenience you

Murphy's Laws, As Applied To Basketball

Because I'm bored and because I'm fighting nasty feelings of impending doom:

Murphy's Laws, As Applied To Basketball
- There is always a way, and it usually doesn't work.
- The shortest distance between two points is double-teamed.
- Easy baskets aren't.
- 'Circus pass' is another word for 'instant turnover.'
- The stars incline; they do not determine. See 2008 Finals.
- Anything you do can get you whistled, including nothing.
- When all else fails -- hack, flop, or throw up a three.
- The refs only pay attention when you screw up.
- A good analyst can prove anything. And a busy forum will overreact to it.
- If you have a personality conflict with any of the following -- Coach, GM, owner, team captain -- they have the personality, you have the conflict.
- Anything over seven-three or on a downward arc has the right of way.
- A groin pull is Nature's way of mocking you for not warming up properly.
- There is no such thing as a perfect game plan, offensive system, or defensive scheme.
- When in doubt, take it to the hole.
- If you can keep your wits about you while all around you are losing theirs you're not on ESPN.
- If it's stupid but it works, it's not stupid.
- Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.
- If a trap is properly set your guy will not walk into it.
- If your team is playing really well it will crash and burn in the last two minutes.
- Ref didn't see it, you didn't do it.
- The crucial pass will be intercepted, the clutch three will not drop, and the tiebreaking free-throw will be the only one you miss.
- Every play call that can be misunderstood will be.
- Success occurs when no one's watching; failure occurs on the ABC network.
- There is no limit to how bad things can get.
- You're not worth watching until you get roasted on Basketbawful.

Anything I missed? Any spin left unspun? Let me know!
-BJ

Game 7, Dallas Mavericks host Los Angeles Lakers

Theme: Metallica's cover, "Crash Course In Brain Surgery"
Game Info: Uz da interwebs

I was not looking forward to this game. In amongst paying $43 dollars for seats that should've cost ten bucks together, an usher being rude when I asked if there were seats available in the handicap section (my mom was with me and she has problems with stairs), and the Lakers rolling into town undefeated and surrounded by their usual radiant aura of bullshit . . . I was expecting a public flogging.

Well, we lost. But we didn't just roll over and fucking die. And yes, that does count for something.

- Triple Double 101!!!

- I stand by my opinion of Gerald Green as sixth man. He's by far too valuable to bury. His turnover rate and judgement under fire need work, so not a go-to starter . . . yet.

- As usual, the Morning News is trouncing all over Dirk for a fairly smelly showing last night. Honestly, why does the man get cut no slack?!? He got shut down, plain and simple.

- Dampier double-double. There's something faintly filthy about that concept . . . but I'll take it.

- I was prepared to love 'Gana Diop to death . . . dude, tossing bricks disguised as free throws is not a loving thing to do to me.

- Seventeen points? Okay Stack, I take back half the bad things I said about you last week.

- Four-String had an off night. Dangerously close to a one-trillion (play at least one minute and put up no stats whatsoever).

- Just for the record, Pau Gasol is a seven-foot marshmallow, Andrew Bynum is not the Second Coming, and Kobe Bryant won his rings by being Shaq's ball boy. Whether or not all that will hold true this year remains to be seen. You kind of have to, y'know, win a Finals series before you can be champion. Basketball fans everywhere -- casual, passionate, and outright fucking insane alike -- Calm. The Hell. Down.

In The Wash: All things considered, I'm not as upset over this as I was over the Cavs game. The Lakers won by shutting down The Man. It's how they've been winning. The rest of the team hung tough until the very end. This tells me that they're working on a viable Plan B to win games even when Dirk isn't producing, and that's a good thing.

But losing sucks. Losing to the Lakers sucks black holes.

Oh well, according to my handy-dandy pocket schedule, this is LAs only trip to Dallas this year. The Faker-fans can crawl back under their rocks now. Mama don't let your babies grow up to be Lakers fans.

Final: 106-99, Lakers
-BJ

Games 5 and 6, Dallas Mavericks visit Denver Nuggets and Los Angeles Clippers

Theme: Combichrist, "Shut Up And Swallow"
Game Info: Nugs here, Clips here

I'm just going to do these two together, if it's okay with you guys. Don't like it? The Internet's a big place; I'm sure there's some other girl who watches basketball whose rants you can read in between Solitare breaks.

Bitter? Pissy? So tired I'm delusional? All of the above and then some. Somebody hug me.

- The Denver game I'm not so mad about, really. The Nugs made the second-to-last mistake, pretty much. I was chewing my nails off until the final posession.

- The Clips? If I could, I'd express-mail a smack upside the head to the entire team, starting with Coach and going straight down the line. I'd need a stepladder to do most of the work but never mind.

- Rebounding? You're not doing enough of it. Period.

- I don't like Randy Galloway. I think he's a southern-fried jackass, to be perfectly honest. But . . . and God how much do I wish I wasn't writing this . . . he's got a point. It's a mite early in the season to be talking about hardcore motivational schtick. Now, I believe cheerleading has a place in life. Most of us need someone to coax our best stuff out of us. The Mavs didn't need the best stuff; that's what's so galling. Just the regular stuff. And that should be above rah-rah claptrap. The game against the Nuggets was winnable; the Clips game was ours to lose.

- I have a question. Is it me, or are the Mavs hearing a disproportionate number of whistles? I mean, a flagrant against Kidd? What'd he do, anally rape Al Thornton's mother while pouring sugar in his gas tank? And how come Dirk doesn't get fouled unless he throws his arms up and does Duncan-face? For crying out loud--

- Settling for jump shots; is that a judgement-shot-because-my-brain-is-on-fire thing? If it is, we're screwed. I read somewhere that Dirk was laboring under the idea that he'd only have to play 30 minutes per game. Look at his stats; that's not happening. And it isn't for lack of a backup; Four-String's been solid.

- Jet Terry's 3-15? Dude!

- Fourth-quarter shit remains a problem. I'll grant that a lot of the lopsidedness in the score is Coach striking the colors and subbing out the starters when the situation becomes hopeless (I'm very not okay with that, but I understand his rationale). But why are the situations allowed to become hopeless? Why are they permitted to win these ballgames? Why are you not stomping those maggots' guts out?

- And no hanging these on Dirk's doorknob (that came out significantly filthier than it sounded in my head). A double-double against Denver and 32 points against LA strongly suggests all due diligence on his part.

- Gerald Green, Sixth Man of the Year. That's where he should be in the rotation. Just my opinion.

- Stackhouse is trade bait. We need to get him to a team that needs his leadership and get a comer who can play in the frontcourt. Also my opinion.

- Waitaminute, the Knicks don't suck? Ack!

In The Wash: I am so tired of being on the wrong side of the Cinderella story. We're becoming the second-to-last boss in the main body of an RPG, the one that gets you ready for the Save The World And Get The Girl Final Fight. Look at our last few post-seasons; loss to the Heat because God reached down and said unto D-Wade, "Hey I need somebody to be the best basketball player in the entire fucking universe and I picked you," loss to Golden State because they were the only team we absolutely did not have an answer for, loss to the Hornets because they turned in the performances of their lives while the Mavs were preoccupied with not killing the coach.

It isn't a lack of Veteren Leadership. We've got something of an embarassment of riches in that department. So why aren't the Mavs locking down? Unless it's -- horrible thought -- the team tuning out the veterens. Read, tuning out Dirk. If that's the case, we're totally fucked.

It's early yet and I'm in this for the long haul. Hell, high water, or the lotto tank. The Lakers are in town tomorrow and I am there. Look for the two fat ladies up in nosebleed country. I'll be the one cheerfully overreacting to everything; my mother'll be the one sitting next to me saying I don't know this person.
-BJ

And You Didn't Look Under The Bed 'Cause . . .

No laundry today. Just some extra socks . . .

- Coach is a Mountain Dew freak? And he hates the Diet shit? File information for a meaningless rant with the man, should the need ever present itself. Logistics of life in Dallas are difficult for Pepsi drinkers, especially so for fans of the supersaturated sugary green goodness. And for the record, Surge did nothing for me.

- You mean someone besides me reads this ridiculous waste of my employer's computer time? Hi Jake! His blog, NBA On The Brain, is an ongoing story of the regular season with a Real Person Fic twist. I like the metaphors he's come up with for each of the teams -- the Spurs as a Skynet-esque Machine force, the Suns as a legion of the undead, the Nets as a caporegime that can't wait to get the hell out of Jersey, the Pistons as workingmen at a production plant out of Detroit, etc. In particular, thank you for the mental image of Dirk on horseback. That's going to make me smile for weeks.

- It's unfair but inevitable that any pro sports endeavor within the DFW Metroplex should be judged by the impossibly high standards of the Dallas Cowboys. In Cowbow fandom . . . you know that Calvin and Hobbes panel, the one where Calvin raises his fist and yells, "Happiness isn't good enough for me! I demand euphoria!" It isn't enough to win, the Cowboys have to utterly destroy the competition and do so easily and with style. Athletes are fantasies, not role models; the franchise is set up as an extreme case in point and has gone out of its way to cultivate extreme expectations. So when the Mavs became serious contenders after a decade of epic yuck it tapped into the flat insanity of Sportus Fannaticus, Dallasi, the fanbase that demands six impossible things before breakfast and gets really fucking nasty when they aren't delivered.

In other words, can't you guys express disappointment without being evil? Questioning manliness, love of the game, worth as a human being? I mean it, some of the remarks I heard on the way home Tuesday night were really awful. Next person looks at me askance when I yell "FUCK!" after a blown layup gets an earful, I swear.

- For Painted Fan Nite -- which I am going to do at least once this year -- I've got some ideas. The trick I'm going for is a costume sufficiently Goth so's I can go straight to The Church from the game. Or maybe I should go punk. Punk has more flexibility, and is more forgiving of badly made clothes. Fifty safety pins? No problem.

- The Macrophenomenal Pro Basketball Almanac looks like something I should keep an eye out for at the Half-Price Books in a few weeks. Fascinating.
-BJ