Game 26, Dallas Mavericks visit Washington Wizards

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

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

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

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

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

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

- No we did not hurt Arenas on purpose.

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

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

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

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

Final: 97-86, Mavericks
-BJ

Game 25, Dallas Mavericks visit New Jersey Nets

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Game 23, Dallas Mavericks host Denver Nuggets

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Final: 98-88, Nuggets
-BJ

Game 19, Dallas Mavericks host Atlanta Hawks

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Final: 100-98, Mavericks
-BJ

Game 18, Dallas Mavericks host Phoenix Suns

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

Dear Suns:

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

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

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

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

- Shaq who?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Final: 112-97, Mavericks!
-BJ

Game 17, Dallas Mavericks host Los Angeles Clippers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Final: 100-98, Mavericks!
-BJ

Game 15, Dallas Mavericks visit Los Angeles Lakers

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

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

You bastards.

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

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

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

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

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

- Who the fuck is Trevor Ariza?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Final: 114-107, (sob) Lakers

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

Game 14, Dallas Mavericks host Indiana Pacers

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

Fuck you Pacers. Fuck you until you bleed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Final: 106-103, Mavericks!
-BJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In Other News . . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Game 13, Dallas Mavericks host Memphis Grizzlies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally.

Final: 91-76, Mavericks!
-BJ

Game 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 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

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 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

Preseason Game 8, Dallas Mavericks host Indiana Pacers

Theme: Nine Inch Nails, "Every Day Is Exactly The Same"
Game Info: If you can bear to look.

Before I get onto the game, I have something to share. The second live game I ever went to (back in March against the Celtics), the day was a long exercise in cumulative cluster-fuck. First, work was insanely busy. Even with postponing everything I could I got out of work a half-hour late. Second, I missed my bus, making me even later. Third, I had to wait until halftime to be able to get into the game -- I was still under the delusion that one could get tickets at the door. Finally, the Mavs lost.

Yesterday? The arc was eerily similar. Crazy-busy day, leaving work late, and my Mavs laying an egg. Complete with getting manhandled by a bunch of guys in dark uniforms.

- Defense. Yeah, Coach, you have my enthusiastic permission to kick everyone's ass square over this. I saw clear opportunities (defensive rebounds, mostly) for defensive heroics that were not exploited.

- JJ Barea (if he's six foot I'm a vernicious kenid) found his shot and did okay as a backup. Thank God, but the Mavs need to look seriously for a backup mark 2.

- Am I the only one who thinks Jet needs to mellow out? I saw one foul in the game agains the Bulls that probably could've counted as a flagrant, and another one that looked iffy last night.

- Turnovers, turnovers, turnovers. The ball is not a pancake, guys.

- This one's hard to take, because this wasn't a matter of gift-wrapping a victory in order to give extraneous free-agents some playing time. The Mavs were out for this game and got themsevles shredded.

- I was looking at the scoreboard at the half and seeing the Mavs up in most categories -- more rebounds, less turnovers, etc. So, I asked myself, why are we only up by one? Then I looked at the three-pointers made/attempted line. Never mind.

- Stack was out last night with a foot problem (bad) and Devean George was out with an injured hand (less bad).

In The Wash: Well that does it for the preseason. T-minus six days, nine hours, and some-odd minutes before things get rolling for real. And we're going to need the time. The offense seems to be "give Jason Kidd the ball and let nature take her course." The problem with that is it puts a lot of playmaking pressure on the backup points -- JJ and Jet Terry. Plans B need to be hammered out and did I mention this team's got a wee bit of a turnover problem?

For the love of God, make the season start!!! Of the teams played in the preseason, the Kings are the only ones even in the conference!

I got faith. But you guys aren't making it easy.

Final: 114 to 91, Pacers
-BJ

Preseason Game 6, Dallas Mavericks host Sacramento Kings

Theme: Skinny Puppy, "Pro-Test"
Game Info: Make with the clicky.

Underrate this, you lazy-minded schlubs.

- Slow start again . . . a widening of focus is needed; whenever Dirk misses a shot I panic inside.

- To Reggie Theus, Head Coach of the Sacramento Kings. Simmer down Coach. And remember it isn't kosher for a coach to jump in and play the D his team's failing at.

- I think the Org is starting with the weeding-out process. The team's moving into more regular-season rotation, with the starters playing heavy minutes. (UPDATE: Confirmed. Charles Rhodes has been waived and Keith McLeod's contract's been restructured to "non-guaranteed." Not clear on the implications of that last bit. Will parse it out later.)

- By the way, Gerald Green. 29 points. One truly righteous slam. We got him; you didn't. Eat it, bitches.

- Sooner or later the Bad Guys'll take away those extra three or four seconds Jason Kidd needs to make those long shots, and there goes the triple-double threat.

- Turnovers still a major problem. Sticky fingers, gentlemen.

- Defensively, I can't make judgement calls. Offensively, I like our young Mr. Red Bull. I saw no evidence of ball-hoggery or bad judgement. If he tanks with the Mavs it won't be for lack of trying on the organization's part. I see Coach taking him aside a lot in games and the media guys've been impressed by his 'tude. Give it a year or so and he's got the opportunity to make some major noise.

- Depth at the 1 is a problem. Much as the organization likes JJ Barea, he's not a player of the calibur this team needs. Jet's decent at the point but is most useful when he can be the Sixth Man Everydude. The Mavs need a decent player at the point to relieve Kidd for ten to twenty minutes per game if Kidd's going to be useful all up through the Finals. I hate to say it, because JJ strikes me as being a good guy, but he's trade bait.

- At the 2 it looks like we've got something of an embarassment of riches. Williams, so far, not impressed. Antoine Wright, however, looks downright tasty. He's gotta be careful though; fouls are only a good thing if making them gives you an edge over and above the extra scoring opportunity they give the bad guys.

- There were some boo-birds up in my section trying to heckle J-Ho at various points in the game. They shut up shortly after the half.

In The Wash: Oh my God, the regular season can't get started soon enough. The Bulls are in town for another tushie-paddling tomorrow and the Pacers swing by on Thursday. In other NBA news, Deron Williams is down with a twisted ankle, no word yet on how long he'll be non-operational.

Final: 124-109, Mavericks
-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