ME JUST INVENTED FIRE! ME AWESOME!

I really have to preface anything I am about to type with the following disclaimer: I have a crush on Pau Gasol. In fact, my Pau Gasol crush has lead to my Geico cavemen crush. One of my favorite episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 is Eegah. It all makes sense now, right? While I am prefer my Pau looking as hairy and disoriented as possible, I'm even starting to admire the slightly cleaner appearance too. And I think he will do much better in Chicago. Sigh.

Mike Miller on the other hand is not okay with me. You are not Fabricio Oberto so lose the fucking headband dude. Miller's threes were the only thing that kept Memphis in the game. I don't really understand why the Mavs never could figure out a way to stop him or at least annoy him. Even Buckner being pushy really didn't seem to slow him down. As much as I hate to regurgitate whatever Bob Ortegel and Mark Followil say during the game I will out of sheer laziness. All the Mavs really had to do was win this game. No matter how ugly the win is/was. And what a horrific car crash of a win this game was. If the game had gone on any longer the Grizzlies would have started shooting threes from mid-court. And making them.

Saturday night will be a good one. Playing Kevin Garnett and the team responsible for stopping the Suns from winning 1.3 trillion games in a row should make for a good show.

Sorry

Alright, I guess he doesn't suck. He's not the "New Keith Van Horn" after all.

I do love the fact that right before the All-Star break, the Mavs reveal that some dude (as Croshere must have been known prior to this game) from the bench may just be able to come off the bench and score more than 30 points. While I would not suggest that Dirk start doing roller derby on his days off, I do feel more confident than ever in the Mavs bench.

My words are being eaten right now.

While I have way too short an attention span to actually live blog about a Mavericks game, I will come close because this has actually been a fairly eventful game and we're only midway through the second.

1. Josh Howard is having a baby. Not in a Junior man-with-child sort of way. He's not in the starting lineup because he's busy becoming a father.

2. Devean George started in his place and yet they did NOT show the home team introduction therefore I did not get to see Devean George's intoductory bulldog dance. Which is kind of bullshit.

3. It's Diop's birthday. Happy 25 years of being alive! Now stop getting stupid fouls. You're doing well tonight and (according to what I just heard) managed to rebuff a cheesy Bob Ortegel joke made at your expense. Good for you.

4. Austin Croshere. What the fuck? I don't like to eat my words and while I'm not exactly eating them, I'm sort of starting to look at them like they're the bowl of chips and I may not be able to wait on my entree. There's 6:21 left in the second and Croshere has made two 3 pointers and gotten two key rebounds. And is kind of being a dick when it comes to guarding which is my favorite kind of player. The basketball equivalent of the guy who monopolizes dinner conversation, talks over people, tells bad jokes then bolts before the check comes and doesn't leave enough money for his dinner. I may be hungry as my analogies reveal. HOLY SHIT Croshere just made another fucking 3 point shot. My feet are getting cold which is a clear sign that hell is freezing over.

I need to eat and figure out what bench player I will rag on now that Croshere has proved me wrong.

That was close

Let me just say that I have always thought that Mike Bibby has the worst tattoos in professional sports. I know this is a highly-contested title. Jeremy Shockey from the NY Giants being the current NFL title holder in my opinion. But seriously, Mike Bibby's tattoos are obnoxious. Seriously, y'all.

I am starting to feel less uneasy about Diop. Not comfortable, mind you. Just less uncomfortable. And I stand by my previous statements about Devean George maybe except for the whole "his three point shot is a foregone conclusion." The good news is that everyone at AAC got a free taco tonight, Dirk got his seventh straight double-double and most importantly Mike Bibby got one step closer to having a longer tattoo-filled offseason.

House of Deng

Wow, no matter how many times you are reminded that your team is admirable because they are shooting at an embarassing 26% but still staying within 10 points of their opponent it still sucks. By the end of the games, the Mavs managed to set a new season record. That record being the lowest field goal percentage (31%) so far this season beating the 38% we shot vs. Utah on December 11. It should come as no suprise to anyone that knows me that I am not exactly a star athlete myself but in no way can I imagine how multi-million dollar, seasoned players can just miss *THAT* many shots. Like bad. The Bulls are streaky so this wasn't a total suprise. The Mavs shooting like blind kids was a much bigger shock.

Also, a list of phrases I said aloud more than once during the game:

"Wait, why is Rob Corddry coaching the Bulls? When did that happen?"

"Really? The Bulls play Information Society during 20 second time outs? Wow, it's like Club MTV and Downtown Julie Brown and The Grind are all there watching the game!"

"Steve Nash and Dirk Nowitzki are both missing from the All-Star West starting line-up? Fuck it, everyone's lost their minds. I'm gonna go listen to Information Society!"

I actually did say that about a minute before the final buzzer. Never will you ever hear me mention the NBA All-Star line-up and Information Society in the same breath ever ever ever again.

PS -

Jason Garrett for Offensive Coordinator = kinda awesome
Joe Avezzano at 5pm in a tent behind Granada getting tanked = always awesome-r

This tuna's off

Bill Parcells always reminded me of some dude who eats those hot dogs with fake cheese in the middle. He also reminds me of someone who sleeps in a bed that has crumbs in it. Perhaps even some sort of oil based stains on the sheets? Annointing oil, perhaps? Have a good retirement, Tuna! If you leave behind a mailing address, I will send you a sample pack of Shout wipes.

The world's most uninteresting rematch ever

Here's the pitch:

A REMATCH OF THE 2006 FINALS!!!! A CHANCE FOR THE MAVS TO PROVE THEMSELVES AND SHOW HOW MUCH THEY'VE GROWN AND IMPROVED SINCE THE FINALS!!!!!!

But then everyone noticed that Pat Riley was gone, Shaq was out and Dwanye (seriously, if my name had been a dyslexic mistake I would have corrected it a long time ago) Wade still had an ouchie in his wrist. So then everyone realized that it really wasn't that big of a deal. Even during the Lakers game, they were talking about how Sunday's game with Miami would be "emotional". It wasn't really. It also reminded me that while I was stoked to see the Mavericks in the Finals last year, I actually didn't think it was that exciting of a match up. How could it have been anything but lackluster? Seven games with the Spurs including some double overtime action? Six games against Phoenix whose team included the league's two-time MVP? I hardly think that playing in the finals against the guy who made Kazaam is as gripping as a seven game dogfight with our in-state rivals.

That aside, I respectfully ask Commissioner Stern or his secretary or whoever it is that makes the NBA schedule to knock this "Sunday games at noon" bullshit off. I am monumentally lazy on Sundays. Having to be concious, alert, upright and aware of the basic rules of basketball is too much to ask. So Commish Stern, you either provide me with a TiVo and a Starbucks gift card or start the games at a reasonable hour.

Michael Vick and I have something in common

And it's not what you think.

Michael Vick Loves the (Water) Bottle


So a pro athlete got caught with weed? Yawn. That was certainly not what jumped out at me. Now, as some of you know I am a Super 8 VIP and I have the card to prove it. The only other sort of reward program card that a company was foolish enough to give me is an AirTran frequent flyer club card. American Airlines told me (with slightly more professional verbiage than I am about to use) to go fuck myself when I applied for an AA Rewards card. But not AirTran. Little know fact: there used to be something called X-Fares on AirTran where if you were 23 or younger and it was any day other than a Friday or Sunday, you could walk up and fly standby anywhere they went for $60 each way. I once ended up stranded in Houston (on a flight that was meant to land in Dallas) on an overheated plane where passengers resorted to auctioning off an uneaten half of a bagel to the highest and hungriest bidder. Thanks AirTran!

Well now I don't feel so bad about being turned down for that AA Rewards card. If AirTran is good enough for a three-time Pro Bowl quarterback, it's good enough for me. Who needs box lunches or free headphones or arriving in the correct destination city?

Also, how funny is it that the first time the new coach met his star quarterback it's immediately after said quarterback's arrest for possesion? Awkward.

When Stackhouse sings, everyone wins!

Well, I would *LOVE* to blog about the game but frankly we dominated so hard from the middle of the first quarter onwards that it would seem like a big old case of being a bad sport if I did actually talk about the rest of the game.

Devean George sucked on those first two three pointers but did get one of the sweetest (along with Josh Howard) dunks of the game so who can complain?

It's bad business for this blog when we win by 20+ points but at least that means I can rest up and think about how awesome that Suns v Mavs playoff stuff is going to be. Boris Diaw, I have a heckle all ready for you. Remeber, I took French for three years.

Snow Dogs

Neon Bible may end up being a great album after all. I wanted to be really cynical about it but the four tracks I have downloaded ("Black Mirror", "Intervention", "My Body is a Cage" and "Ocean of Noise" plus the older "No Cars Go") are really fucking good. And it's a snow day and everyone gets to stay home and wear pajamas and watch Maury so everyone wins today. Congrats. Here's your prize:

My Dad and Yao Ming on a flight to Beijing

The fact that we played the Rockets tonight with Yao Ming out with a broken leg leads me to finally get to tell my Yao Ming story (believe it or not, I don't get many chances to tell it due to the fact that Yao Ming never seems to come up in casual dinner conversations). My dad traveled to China about three years ago. My dad is 6'3 and very Germanic (read: husky). He was flying first class on Air China. Stereotypes aside, even in first class Air China does not have a great amount of head clearance or leg room. My dad learned this the hard way. You know how sometimes you try to be cute and fit on the little coin-operated carousels/18-wheeler/Jeep outside the grocery store even though you are a grown-ass adult? You know how it's funny for like 5 seconds then you fall out with a leg cramp? Do that for 15+ hours. While breathing everyone else's recyled air. And watching an Adam Sandler movie.

So my Dad's sitting in his First Class Jr. seat thinking that no one understands the plight of the larger man when Yao Ming boards the plane and takes the seat next to him. Yao Ming fits in the seat only *slightly* less awkwardly than my Dad. My Dad does not watch sports. My Dad tells Yao Ming he "oughta be a basketball player, boy!" Yao Ming smiles. Someone lends my Dad a clue. Somehow my Dad ended up making friends with Yao Ming. Maybe they told stories about all the times they have sat in smaller spaces? In broken Chinese and English? I don't know but apparently when they landed and were walking off the plane in Beijing, Yao Ming and my Dad high-fived before heading to their respective customs lines.

Later that week, a delegation of Chinese police took my Dad to be a tourist at the Great Wall of China. Apparently, he got winded after about 15 minutes and had to stop and sit down. This lead to the delegation of Chinese police christening him "ha ha ha White Buddah!" which seems kind of sacreligious to their own faith but I freely admit I don't grasp the nuances of humor amongst Chinese police. There exists a picture of my Dad at this very moment. His face is bright red, his shirt is dominated by the mightiest pit stains I have ever seen and he's hunched over with his hands on his knees. The denouement of this story was that my Dad was there because he was training the Chinese police on diplomatic security since my Dad was in charge of diplomatic security at the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta (yeah, the one where the bomb went off) and China was vying for their own Olympic bid. China lost their bid for 2012. London won. The next day, their transit system was attacked by terrorists.

Final score:

my Dad - 0
China - 0
London - 0
Yao Ming - 1

Devean George for President of Everything Ever

For about two weeks, I have gotten chills when I see Devean George look like he's going to try for a three. Most of the time I see Dirk, Jet or Josh Howard go for a three I sort of freeze up and hope for the best. But when Devean George shoots one, I just relax because the chances are pretty good that it's going in.

Not a great start for the Mavs. Tracy McGrady scored 20 in the first quarter. It was so bad that when they went to commercial at the end of the first quarter and then came back, Houston had mysteriously scored a point during the commerical while Tracy McGrady was laying down on the bench and the second quarter hadn't even started yet. Ok, it was actually a score correction for a McGrady three pointer erroneously scored as a two.

It was not the McGrady-Nowitzki shootout of 2004 though Tracy McGrady did once again feel the sting of scoring more than 40 points in a game and still losing. Dirk didn't outshoot him this time BUT Van Gundy did wave the white flag with two minutes left in the last quarter. Which lead to the (during this game, at least) much-maligned "not very deep" Rockets bench coming out. Cue McGrady's man-on-man action, which probably was related to his back spasams since he was taken to the locker room before the buzzer but in my mind was his own unique and "sexy" way to deal with shooting so many points and still losing. Just let me think that.

The past 6 Mavs games have been ridiculous. And note I said "ridiculous" not "re-Dirk-culous" because my tolerance of athlete's names/common English words mash-up phrases has hit an all time low due to the retardedness of phrases like "NoWITNESS" and "RoMomentum." Stop using them. Stop putting them on signs. They're not very clever. In fact, they're pretty TERRY-ble.* I think we should have won the game against the Lakers two weeks ago but I'm marking that one down to Theater Lighting (how L.A.!) and Jack Nicholson sitting directly behind Avery. We'll get 'em Thursday. With normal indoor sports lighting, no less!


*Honorable mention: "Shop 'til you DIOP!"

Keith Van Horn: Another Kidnapping Victim?

What happened to Keith Van Horn? D-League? Towel washer? Sub-saharan expansion team? Please someone find him and let him know I always thought he was the coolest Mormon, Babyface-loving guy to ever play in the NBA. Ok, thanks.

Ummm, other than that I guess the only thing I can say is:

Welcome to one of the more techincally inept and statistically challenged blogs loosely concerning the Dallas Mavericks.

Mission statement aside, a little more information. I like the Mavericks. I didn't like them in the early 1980's because I was more focused on learning my ABCs and walking upright. However, I will gladly produce for anyone who has doubts about the length of my fandom a scan of a picture of me circa 1992. My outfit: Long denim "jorts", faux Birkenstock sandals, John Lennon holographic-peace-sign-on-the-lenses-sunglasses and a XL Dallas Mavericks "Young Guns" t-shirt (tucked in but bloused within an inch of its' life). That's how much I care about what you think of my dedication. But seriously, please don't get all "you only started liking them in the 'augts" around here. Now, in case you were wondering, the following are the reasons I started this blog:

1. I already watch every Mavs game.
2. I never turn my laptop off.
3. I liked reading about and commenting on Mavs games on We Shot JR.
4. I liked the fact that the some of the more delicate indie kids got their panties in a knot when people started talking about sports on We Shot JR.
5. More people need to talk about how goofy Manu Ginobli acts sometimes.

Also, on days when there are no games and there's no Roy Tarpley-esque shenanigans to report I will probably end up talking about some band or some album or some dumb shit I saw some kid wearing the other day. Fun!