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

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