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

Game 4, Dallas Mavericks visit San Antonio Spurs

Theme: Metallica, "Creeping Death"
Game Info: So let it be written

When I saw the SA on the docket for the Mavs on Election Day, I said to myself, "Self, if [insert canadite's name] loses and the Spurs win, fuck this shit, we're hauling ass to Panama. For the End is pretty seriously Nigh."

Politics are private so never mind that. Let's focus on the game:

- Wow, I didn't realize things between the Mavs and the Spurs were that intense. Some of the blurbs TXA-21 threw up look like borderline riots. And correct me if I'm wrong on this, but aren't our Mavs normally peaceable guys?

- Ter-ree! The Jet is up as a starting two-guard and, you should pardon the expression, rose to the challenge in fine style. When Terry's on, he's a joy to watch. I'm not sure what Coach's ultimate Plan is at the shooting guard position. Jet's most valuable as a sixth man and bench riders spark plug. But damned if he didn't look tasty.

- Good grief. Duncan-face lives. I now understand why basketball guys have problems rooting for the Spurs -- a cynic (and I am one) might suspect that abuse of the rules when it comes to fouls is a calculated part of their game plan. A lot of the sports guys I follow (Matt at Hardwood Paroyxsm, Basketbawful, Mike Fisher, etc) insist that that is so; I haven't wanted to believe it because that's cheating. In this game, the Spurs got 20 free throws to Dallas's 5. I'm a believer now. And shame on them.

- Of course the Spurs can write this off. They're playing without Ginobli, who went down with a bad ankle in the Olympics semi-finals. To which I say, phooie-karblooey. The Spurs outclass the Mavs in many categories; this game was theirs to lose.

- Oh the tasty assist. Kidd Pony-Expressed the ball to Dampier on a bounce-pass, in traffic, Damp puts it in.

- Fourth-quarter execution? Put the stress on that last word. The Spurs tried to rally, they really did. But then . . . Howard puts up a bad shot that clangs off the rim, Dampier reaches over a sea of Spurs hands, tics the ball once-twice, bats it to Jason Kidd hanging out just past the top of the arc, Kidd flips it over to Dirk, Dirk cans it. Three points. Die, by my hand . . .

- Given how poorly he performed in the Cavs game, I'd wondered if Dirk might've caught a bug -- he lacked his usual sparkle. Winning might or might not be good deodorant (Jason Kidd, quote machine), but it's a pretty good antibiotic too. Thirty points, on 13 of 24 shooting, including a couple of threes. There's the Dirk we know and love.

- J-Ho. Double-double of 14 points and 12 rebounds. Stretch it out through the post-season and you will be a god, man.

- And speaking of, Kidd's still flirting with triple-double 101. The threat is there, don't doubt it.

In The Wash: God how bad did we need this! With a performance this solid it gets easier to chalk up the Mavs's stumbling about to growing pains. Coach's indecisiveness when it comes to a shooting guard concerns me; I don't think Stackhouse is capable of being an effective part of the rotation, Antoine Wright's too inconsistant, Green's too . . . green, and Williams hasn't played at all yet. Few things tear the heart out worse than realizing you're working for a boss that can't make up their mind.

I'm not sure who put the hammer down on the subject of rebounding, but the players took it to heart; 45 boards. Good things happen when you get posessive of the ball.

Onward and upward, literally. The Mavs have a couple days off then it's off to Denver for our first game against the Billups-era Nuggets. I'm going to keep half an eye on the Pistons from here on out; Iverson needs to be kept on a checkrein to be effective and I don't doubt 'Sheed and Company are up to the challenge. Paddles might be needed.

Final: 98-81, Mavericks
-BJ

Game 3, Dallas Mavericks host Cleveland Cavaliers

Theme: (I'd hoped not to use this) Mindless Self Indulgence, "Stupid MF"
Game info: Please don't look

I've clung, suction cup Garfield like, to the idea that my Mavs are not outclassed at this table. That ideal -- illusion would probably be the more accurate word -- took a major hit last night. We were pwned at damn near every stage. It hurt somewhere in the belly when the Mavs struck the colors with 04:30 left. LeBron had 29 points . . . and according to one stats geek or another, that's an afterthought.

I don't want to go over this game, and I'm seriously considering burning the tape. I'll probably want it later though; when I'm in a "before turning the gun on herself" mood. On the way out of the AAC I felt like a parent facing down their rotten kid. I don't want to look at you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even wanna think about you for the next twelve hours! Maybe then we can discuss this rationally.

It's been that and a few extra, and I think I can be rational. For small stretches, anyway.

Let's discuss rebounding. Or more precisely, the lack of it. Why aren't you guys after that damn ball every time it hits anything other than nylon? The platitudes all over the walls last year no doubt grated, but that doesn't make them not true. Let's see, free throw accuracy still an issue, not doing a good job of protecting the ball, and what is up with not hitting threes? Our go-to guy is one of the best three shooters in the league, for God's sake.

I posited a few weeks ago that the Mavs could still win even if the Bad Guys successfully shut down Dirk. That's another idea I need to revise. It hurts my heart to have to admit this; Dirk was crap last night. And the team is not capable of taking on the true comers without him.

And frustration aside, is there something else the matter? I saw him leave the arena for a while sometime in the first half -- dude what's wrong?

Ima go cry now.

Offense Sells Tickets
Defense Wins Games
Rebounding Wins Titles
Ball Don't Lie

Final:100-81, Cavaliers
-BJ