I’ve been refraining from calling myself a MFFL. Not because I haven’t loved watching the boys in blue play since I was a little thing. Not because I feel myself not to be a fan. Hell, my first homecoming game on a varsity basketball team (Disclaimer: I was 12 when this happened, private schools let you be in varsity as soon as they see you can play. TCAL is weird.), was played on the floor of Reunion Arena before a Mavericks game. (We lost. Much like the Mavs in their game. However, when we played the team at the end of the season, I scored the game winning shot to take us to State. Hell yeah ninjas. I was a lil ballin’ badass.)
I’ve loved this team through thick and thin and have kept up a massive amounts of superstitions in their name each playoff season. Hell, I came back to Texas to be here for these Finals. But I haven’t called myself that. Because if you are, you don’t need to.
If you teared up at the sight of Cuban on the bench as the game just seemingly drew out to much longer than that last minute showed on the clock….it just was. A really happy lil 12 year old came out in me the other night. The same 12 year old that played Spit with Mavericks logo cards up in the upper deck of Reunion Arena during halftimezies. That 12 year old got to see her team…the team that Jason Kidd started with that same year that she got to play ball on the big boy’s court…they fucking won. I’ve never been a football fan…baseball and basketball are games that made sense to me….and now, one of my teams are world fucking champions. And no one can take that away.
I ❤ the Mavericks. And win or lose in those Finals, I wouldn't say any less. They played their heart out and they got what they deserved. 4 W's.
I'm 99% positive this has just been a rant.