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Finally, the Mavericks are back Fan's View
Today, NBA fan Steve Schindler details the key moments in the
Dallas Mavericks' transition from doormat to contender.
It sent chills up the spine to witness the final shot of the recent
down-to-the-wire game between the Dallas Mavericks and the mighty San
Antonio Spurs. Here were the young Dallas Davids against the T-Dunk
Goliaths in a toe-to-toe match-up that rivaled any ever witnessed in these
parts.
When the final dramatic jumper fell, Reunion Arena exploded with fans,
players, owner and everybody else rushing on the court in celebration of
the end of a jinxed era. No longer would the Mavericks be the
laughingstock of the league. No longer would the best free agents run from
Dallas as fast as their legs would carry them. The rebuilding is finally
done. It finally feels like Dallas is breaking even in the Jason Kidd
trade.
December of '96 was anything but a jubilant time in Dallas. In that
bitter cold December, there came what was considered the idiotic trade of
the century. The Mavericks' triple J triumvirate -- Jim Jackson, Jason
Kidd and Jamal Mashburn -- was being dismantled by a front office gone
insane. In that disoriented December, the Mavs traded away the NBA point
guard of the future (Kidd) to the Phoenix Suns for a corral full of
uncertainty in return.
Then, madman Don Nelson crashed the party and began housecleaning with
dynamite and a double-barrel 12-gauge. And when Nelson was finished, he
rested. There was nothing was left but the burnt, charred shell of a
Dallas franchise gone south. All of the feuding chemistry of the previous
mix of players was gone. By the time the Dallas fire sales were done, the
Mavericks had orchestrated a then-record nine-player trade with the New
Jersey Nets, used a league-record 27 players and a club-record 18
starters.
The entire Maverick roster and organization had been revamped and
retooled to reflect Nelson's own twisted personality. People in Dallas
were confused. Women and children were scared, and grown men were seen
screwing their 10-gallon hats to their heads for when the big wind came.
Surely, God's wrath followed close behind.
The huge north Dallas revolving door brought through an amazing
smorgasbord of players in the next four years. Fans were bemused by the
likes of the ancient A.C. Green, human "stick boy" Shawn
Bradley, the bouncing belly of Oliver Miller and the downright zaniness of
Leon Smith. And all the while, the league laughed at most of Nelly's moves
thinking that somewhere along the way he had indeed lost his mind. The man
that had stocked the Milwaukee and Golden State benches deep with talent
had lost his touch.
Nelly gave away the farm to get "stick boy" Bradley. Nelly
made a decent draft pick to get Kelvin Cato, only to ship him off for
somebody named Chris Antsey, who never played much. And just about the
time Dallas fans were about to give up, Nelly mysteriously discovered his
touch and began mixing in some insightful success along with a periodic
wrong turn or two.
He swung the deal that brought in Steve Nash from a Phoenix team that
no longer needed him because it had the NBA's point guard of the future
(Kidd). On the same day, Nelly reached over to Germany for Dirk Nowitzki,
hot off his '98 Nike Hoop Summit splash in San Antonio. Nelly made a mad
grab for 7-1 Wang Zhi-Zhi, who might play in Dallas someday after
completing his 20-year stint in the Chinese Red Army. Then, he grabbed the
mad Leon Smith, whose life shot uphill too fast for his high school
immaturity. OK, so some mistakes still would be made.
Not relying solely on the draft, Nelson and wunderkind e-owner Mark
Cuban believe in stockpiling players and living through the thrill of
sign-and-trade deals rather than high-dollar free-agent signings. For all
of the past criticism, they've done a great job putting this current
roster together. Providing each player with his own personal assistant
coach was a brilliant move. Now each player gets one-on-one work on his
particular weaknesses at each rare in-season practice session. The
improvements have been phenomenal. Dallas finished last season as one of
the league's hottest teams, almost stealing a playoff berth.
"Stick Boy" has added some beef to his fragile frame and has
become a shot-blocking terror. Michael Finley has taken control of his
team and is on the verge of becoming one of the league's elite offensive
superstars. Nowitzki has emerged from his rookie doldrums in potential
All-Star form. He eats people up at the four spot where he presents big
matchup problems for slower defenders. Nash has emerged from an
inconsistent start in Dallas to become a steady force at the point.
On any given night, Nelly knows he can get quality minutes from Finley,
Nash and Nowitzki, and he now has a deeper, more talented bench to draw
from as the '2000 draft and trades have added promising depth.
This new mix has the promise of being something very potent indeed.
Rookie Courtney Alexander is a tremendous athletic talent, and should he
and Finley ever co-exist on the court, the rest of the league will suffer
for it. Eduardo Najera is a consistent spark plug off the bench, and Greg
Buckner always raises the team's defensive concentration when he is
inserted in the game. Christian Laettner is a bench wild card who should
provide a solid boost once he settles into the Dallas scene.
So, when the Mavericks threw in the ball against the Spurs with 4.1
seconds to go, they had the weight of a decade of losing seasons on their
shoulders. Their 1990s winning percentage of around .300 could be seen in
the shadows, and the sound of uncertainty could be heard in the screams of
a suddenly hungry, frantic Reunion crowd.
Michael Finley took the inbounds pass, moved left and hit an
off-balance, 22-foot jumper over former Spur miracle man Sean Elliott to
turn the Mavericks into winners. They had practiced the play for a year,
and this was the first time they hit it. This win erased a seeming
lifetime of frustration. This win brought back the thrill of Reunion
celebrations of old. This win signaled that the Mavs are at last breaking
even on the Kidd trade. Thank God, finally. |