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

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 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 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

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

Game 1, Dallas Mavericks host Houston Rockets

Theme: Mindless Self Indulgence, "Straight to Video"
Game Info: Click it. Click it good.

First of all, thank you Mr. Ory of the Mavs' marketing department. My free tickets were in the lower bowl, section 124, behind the Visiting basket. So I was able to show DFW's newest liberal menace -- my mother -- a terrific time.

Now we get to the game. Oh dear God somebody shoot me.

- Fish and others were right. With Crazy Pills (blame Matt at HP), the Rockets can kick our asses. That said, I hope I can get video of the game off of somebody, figure out what the hell Artest did to warrant a technical.

- I'm converted, halleluijah. Stack needs to be buried. Entombed.

- Guys, what the hell happened to the D? It was there in the first three and we were hanging pretty tough. Then it all went to shit. There weren't as many opportunities for defensive heroics as there were in the Pacers game, but they were there. Rebounding wins games, especially with this team.

- Seeing Yao Ming in person is a bit of a shock. For obvious reasons. And if I were a Rox fan, I'd be thanking God in my prayers every night he's on my side.

- What happened to the depth? It's there. Teams have drowned in it. Huge night from Dirk, great stuff from J-Ho, the triple-double threat lives . . . and it's all to cock if they can't step out and catch their breaths for ten minutes or so.

- Why didn't Green play? Has he not been shooting well? Was Stack that much better a choice?

- Manah Manah starring Desagana Diop? Genius!

- Please tell me that's not an indication of things to come; Coach over by the sidelines looking like a goddamn Rockette when things get tight.

In The Wash: Seeing as how this is Only One Game, I'm going to give my Mavs the benefit of the doubt in this; surrendering when Bad Guys are on a roll. I didn't see any evidence of it, other than Dirk walking off the court at 00:01.3, but I'll grant I was not an astute observer right that second.

Aforementioned walking-off? No I'm not okay with that. Dude!

(Unless you're walking to me; those of the reading audience with smutty minds can fill in the rest.)

It's. Just. One. Game. So, I'm calm. Perfectly calm.

Course right that second-- I was the fat lady in blue moaning "Oh my God please say this isn't happening!" as she exited the arena.

Final: 112-102, Rockets
-BJ

The Dallas Mavericks and sponsors present Fan Jam 2008!

I hate Dallas traffic. I hate it with every cell in my body, with every beat of my heart. Why? Because of a traffic jam on 35E, the inability to find Victory Ave coming from the east side of town, two wrong turns and the longest stoplight in Dallas county, I didn't get to the AAC until ten to six. At which time, the line for autographs for J-Ho and Dirk had already been cut off. I begged. No dice.

Oh well, the item I really want signed -- a full-sized jacket patch of the MFFL vanity plate -- is still on the drawing board. And there'll be other chances for autographs. I hope.

So fuck it, I went into the lower bowl and sat down. Section 107; wasn't quite the smell-'em-sweat seats, but close. To my surprise, the seats down there are just as uncomfortable as the seats up in Section Never-Mind. The comfy folding seats are on the floor and were barricaded off. Pretty sure those're the ones that cost roughly two months of my take-home pay. Definetely something to add to the When I Become Rich'n'Famous list.

As the place filled up, Champ came out and started, pardon the expression, horsing around. The O on Champ's uni is a closed-off horseshoe. I never noticed that before. He got some kids out of the audience, played some shooting games, got a little one-on-one going, got some two-on-two started. That was fun to watch; one kid, looked about thirteen, was pretty good. Coach Carlisle made an appearance and got a round of applause.

The players hit the floor around sevenish and started warming up. That's gotta feel weird for the guys, having a studio audience for your basic work-out. Jog, sprint, high-kicks. Also some scandalous-looking floor stretches. In related news, Dirk's got a butt, it's just a small one in relation to his height.

The team was split into three squads for practise drills, White Blue and Gold. Coach welcomed everyone and took a second to introduce Assistant Head Coach TJ Kidd. On first brush I like Coach Carlisle. He looked comfortable as emcee without being hammy about it.

Practise drills. Like most things, it looks simple and silly when broken down into details. I can also see where dance training would be an advantage when it comes to developing foot and ankle strength. The highlight of drilling was something Coach called the 4:15 drill. I'm taking this from the Morning News; "With 4:15 on the clock, the Mavericks start a three-on-zero fast break for a layup, then the two wing players who didn't get the layup are fed passes for jump shots." The team tries to score 115 to 120 baskets; they got 107. Faster feet, gentlemen. And I now know why the earliest games were played in cages. If someone's hands had been a half-second slower I'd've spent the night pulling my glasses out of my face.

My respect for pro-ballers trakes a dramatic uptick after watching all that. As I remember -- painfully -- from middle school, this shit's harder than it looks. As a for instance, the court. Because the players are all big guys and because they all look absolutely at ease in what they're doing, the court looks smaller than it actually is. A three-point arc is 23 ft from the basket. To somebody like Dirk, who does this for a living and for pleasure, it's not that far at all. To me, it looks like a fuckin' light year. And one has to do all this while mind-melding with a constantly rotating cast of four other guys. And doing all that with five other lunatics trying to fuck your shit up. It's like playing full-contact chess at mach 3 with your hair on fire.

As drills wrapped up Coach called up and introduced the staff. When one face didn't turn up -- I think it was their strength guy -- Coach asked if anybody'd seen him. Dirk yelled from the floor, "Golfing!" Another guy's an Olympic gold medalist from a seventies-vintage Team USA; Jet started with some I'm-not-worthy! schtick.

Then we got to the players. Jet Terry got the mic. He's going to make ESPN very happy in a few years; the man's a showman. Jet called the rookies front and center. Jujuan Smith took us through the power circle; "Let's say we're playing," Jet thought a moment, "the Spurs." Took some coaxing, but we gave some solid boos. What's a Spur to a Maverick? Nothing. Nothing.

Introductions. JJ was there but didn't participate. Poor guy, I saw that knee hit. Yowch. If there were any boos for J-Ho I didn't hear them. Gerald Green is now Red Bull for instant energy. I think I can work with that. Desagana Diop welcomed back with cheers. Kidd was up second to last and Jet kind of skated over his name. All grins and taken in stride. And if I have to tell you who was last -- and got the screaming ovation -- you haven't been paying attention.

Scrimmage itself was somewhat more abbreviated than I'd been led to expect. Mavs win, naturally. The more I watch the team when Kidd's on his game, the more excited I get about the possibilities this season. And this is the Kidd past his prime? Jesus Christ. Dirk . . . I can see why he's not someone a casual fan would get wowed about. But the more I watch him, the more I love what he does and how he does it. I mean, have you seriously looked at that fadeaway jump shot? Watching him handle the ball's like watching the goddamn Jedi Mind Trick.

After scrimmage the players shucked their shoes and tossed them into the audience. Dirk went them one better and added his jersey. I started yelling the beat to The Strip, hoping he'd go barechested or (gulp) down to his drawers. Nope. Wah.

In any event, I had a great time. The lower bowl was mostly full-up and everyone was ready to go a little bit nuts. It's little things like that -- like keeping the cheapseat ticket prices low and cutting deals with DART and the T-line so you don't have to drive -- that build a loyal fanbase. And -- thank God -- the Organization knows it. I do wish it'd been on Saturday, but that would've been impossible because of the Stars game.
-BJ

Preseason Game 1, Dallas Mavericks host Washington Wizards

Theme Song: Mortal Kombat OST, "A Taste of Things To Come"
Game Info: From NBA.com

That was fun!

- Oh that's why the organization ponied up their immortal souls to get Jason Kidd. The triple-double threat lives.

- Kidd and Dirk only played for, maybe, twenty minutes. Good stuff to be had from them, but not needed. Why drag out the .50 cal when the M16's getting it done? Honest to God, official garbage time came with four and a half minutes left in the fourth; you probably could've declared it after halftime.

- Hihi! This is the first time I've seen Desagana Diop on the floor, and I think I like him. Splitting time between Dampier and Diop at the 5 makes sense to me, especially if he keeps playing good defense.

- I wasn't focused on the bench so I might've missed it, but it's something of a relief to not see Coach damn near drop dead of a heart attack eight or nine times. His huddles look like Story Time; "Come in close boys and girls, come on."

- JJ Barea . . . Fish characterizes him as the Mavs's pet rock, and I'm sorry but I didn't see much to refute the claim. Which makes Kidd's long-term endurance a worry again. Preseason, the eighty-two, plus post-season, and we need hardcore hero shit from him on a regular basis.

- I'm not a huge fan of the player parody vids, but making fun of Mark Cuban's a giggle. Diop's Welcome Back video was cute too.

- Antoine Wright. If he turns into a serious rotation player, the Kidd trade looks like much less of an overpayment.

- Ladies and gentlemen, Brandon Bass!

- The fanbase will forgive Josh Howard for behaving like an idiot this summer if this performance is an omen for the season. Though to be fair there were a few plays that probably reflect less on J-Ho's excellence and more on the Wizard's total breakdown on both ends of the floor. Serious, J-Ho got two or three fast-break layups in a row from some snatch-it-and-pass-it steals. Hey Wizards, wanna try for another one or do we see a pattern developing here?

- I love watching Jet Terry play. Lands neatly on his toes while catching a feed from Dirk, turns around, two points. Tasty.

In The Wash:
One thing the Mavs haven't lacked for me is The Potential. We can be really fucking awesome . . . which last year led to a few months of tantilizing glimpses of greatness bracketed by games in which the rest of the conference sharpened their claws on us. Lots of standing around looking confused. I saw that here too . . . but this time I have the hope of answers forthcoming. The preseason's for hammering out the rotation and game plans in real-game situations. In one sense, this game solves nothing. The Wizards didn't provide enough of a challenge. In another, the fans who've been hanging onto the wait-and-see perspective have gotten some returns -- a dominating win. And some good-looking basketball.

Bandwagon Bumper Sticker: Get in. Sit down. Hang on. Start yelling.

Final: 108-82, Mavs
-BJ

Couple Thursday Notes

Gerald Green's not looking at serious floor time? That's disappointing. I'd hoped to see some good stuff there.

I'm not schooled enough in the game to get why this is a big deal . . . but I'll note it for future research; the Mavs are working up a lot of depth at the center position. Dampier and 'Gana Diop are taking turns starting at scrimmage, Brandon Bass is being cross-trained as a 5, and Dirk's played center before. Still not sure why that's getting emphasized. I'll figure it out as the season gets rolling.

There'll be more scholarly stuff soon, promise.
-BJ

Only Seven More Hours Until Tipoff . . .

Whelt, it's official, sports fans, Diop's back in Dallas (at a substantial pay raise, the lucky bastard and I say that with love). JJ Barea's also on the roster, having signed a deal for $1.5 million.

If there're any more moves in the offing, the Organization's being very quiet about them. Nothing on the Morning News, the Star-Telegram, or DB-dot-com. Seems the Org was serious about just a couple of tweaks to the roster and then going onwards. Makes me nervous, but I'd feel that way no matter what they did.

Gonna be a loooooong few months.

Mavs first summer league game's tonight on Channel 21 (or NBA TV, for those fortunate souls who have SuperTV). I'm there. Hoops withdrawl ain't pretty.

Got an ad in my Yahoo mail yesterday saying that Platinum level tickets are going on sale. At around ninety bucks a game. Yowzers! Ponying up for the good rafter seats damn near bankrupted me this last season. Besides, the fans in the Platinum section tend towards the "cocaine-and-boob-job" crowd. Blarch.
-BJ

Job Hunting In The Show

Yesterday kicked off free agency, when franchise and player representatives can come to the table and talk business. How much does your guy want, how much ya got, how much is he worth, et cetera et cetera et cetera.

According to the rules of the draft (see June 25th entry), a first-round draftee gets a minimum two year contract with the franchise that selected him, with a team option for two more years. Second rounders aren't guaranteed contracts, but the drafting franchise still own the rights to that player for three years.

But not to put too fine a point on it, the NBA only drafts sixty players a year. I'd have to work it out by hand, but just going by the NBAs list the odds on getting drafted this year were about . . . one in three, one in four. What do you do if you're #61 in terms of potential awesomeness? Or if the scouts caught you in a slumpy phase or while you were sick or hurt? Or your game's still maturing? Or the NBA just doesn't like you?

A lot of the leftover players let it drop right there and pursue other ambitions. The ones who feel they've got a shot become free agents.

Free Agency, or Taking The Scenic Route to the NBA:
According to the Great Yet Flawed God Wikipedia (so if on any point I'm factually incorrect, say so), a "free agent" is a ballplayer with the right to seek their own employment. Once a player signs a contract, they're no longer in control of their employment and may be traded to another team at the franchise's discretion so long as the other team matches the terms of that contract.

Free agents come in two breeds; unrestricted and restricted. Unrestricted free agents are players without a team -- those whose contracts have expired without re-upping, those who've been released from their contracts, and those who were not drafted by the league. They are free to offer their services to any franchise, and to accept any offers made. Restricted free agents are players still signed with a team but are free to solicit and accept offers from other teams. However, if the player's currently signed team matches the prospective team's offer the player remains with their current team.

What this means to the Mavs is we've got several blank roster slots, some critical vacancies in terms of gameplay (David Lord did a magnificent analysis of those needs over at Dallas Basketball dot com), and not a lot of spending cash to work with. However, the field of free agents is good. Of the list of free agents currently on the roster, I haven't heard anything yet about the Mavs making offers.

The word just came down via the Morning News that a deal's been worked out for center DeSagana Diop (please not for the whole mid-level exception). There's also a new guy by the name of Gerald Green -- they're talking a one-year deal. Right now, the Mavs have eight contracted players -- Eddie Jones (exercised his player option), Kidd, Dirk, J-Ho, Jet Terry, Dampier, Jerry Stackhouse, and Brandon Bass. Just-waiting-for-a-starting-time deals in place for Diop and Green . . . five more guys and we have ourselves a team.

An editorial note; Brandon Bass will at times be referred to as the Four-String Motherfucker. It's a nod to my favorite metal band's nickname for their bass guitar. My kingdom for the AAC to quit playing Enter Sandman and start playing For Whom The Bell Tolls.
-BJ