Sports: Dallas Mavericks

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.

Sports: Haste.

The other night, I wrote a very quick little thing about the Mavs winning and how the wolf pack was a pack…blah blah blah. Now my ass is sitting in front of a computer, impatiently waiting for new used cars to be listed for sale and finding myself with a bit of time to kill and a nagging thought running through my lil head.

So Dirk got shit for heading back to the locker room instead of talking to the blond chick who can barely be understood anyway, after winning? Srsly? I get it, they presented a trophy and shirts and hats, and yadda yadda yadda….there’s still a few games left to be played guys. A whole round of them. With Miami. The team that is turning out to be the 49er’s of our time. I was proud of Dirk when they cut to him and he was walking back to the locker room. Good for him. He knows this isn’t done yet. And I would put money on him being back in the gym at some point on Wednesday night/very early Thursday morning.

I’m excited to see the Finals. Dallas is a well-rounded team from it’s tallest player right on down to ‘lil man, Mr. J. J. Barea. We’ve seen 20+ point games from a huge number of players on this time….if they double up on Dirk, Marion can get it to the hole as well as Jason Terry or even Stojakovic. This team is coming to the finals ready to fucking play. I can’t wait until Tuesday.