On Becoming a Mavs Fan

In the pre-Cuban days of the late 90s, when the Mavs stunk beyond belief and Nellie (no not him, him) was brought in to turn it around I became an instant, but tepid, follower of the team. After all, I was a Milwaukee-transplant to the Dallas metroplex and Nellie was the only NBA coach I'd ever known growing up. He was just the sort of drunken genius anyone can get behind.

Then Cuban bought the team and what seemed like overnight, the Mavs starting winning like crazy. They frenetically went from love-able losers, to over-achieving underdogs to bonafide contenders. There simply was nothing not to like. The pinnacle of my Mavs fan engorgement was in 2006 when the mighty Spurs were vanquished in seven in the single best NBA playoff series I've ever witnessed.

Truth be told, I always suspected I was just being a bandwagon homer living in the 'burbs. It was a introspective shame that I carefully hid.

Despite the shallow underpinnings of my Mavs fandom, I weathered the Finals collapse. The incredible we-are-the-Globetrotters regular season of 2006-07 was my vindication for keeping the faith. Of course that regular season's greatness evaporated the first game of the first round of the playoffs against the lowly Warriors. Despite that and perhaps through my soft spot for good ol' Nellie and his Miller Lite hijinks, my hope still sprang eternal for 2007-08.

This regular season has been a bizarre dozen or so right turns to try to find the destination of greatness again. Each turn has lead directly back to mediocrity. The last turn I watched was on Thursday in Denver. It become obvious that the season, perhaps the current franchise's constitution was diseased with mediocrity. There would be no playoffs, no greatness, nothing.

There was a dark curtain dropping on the neck of my fair-weather fanaticism like a guillotine. Free of my poisoned beliefs of hoping for what won't be, I discovered with complete surprise . . . I loved the Mavs anyway. I started imagining next season, the draft, what could be - how my Mavs would make it right someday. And, that I would be there all along the way. There with open arms when my little Mavs finally do make it.