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