The F%&#ing Mavericks

If you're the type that believes in reincarnation, I would like to introduce the following theory:

- Fans of the Dallas Mavericks are being punished for sins in a previous life.

It's the only way to describe the gut-wrenching horror that it is to be a Mavs fan some days. Yesterday, of course, the Mavs had one of the most epic meltdowns in NBA playoff history. With a 23-point lead late in the third quarter (2 minutes to go), the Mavs found a way to lose again. Just like the 2006 NBA Finals and dozens of times since and before.

The Mavericks are the most pathetic franchise in the history of pro sports. From the 1990s, where the team was one of the worst performers in sports history...but still couldn't get the #1 overall pick ever (compare to the Spurs, who threw games to get into the lottery and won with a single ping-pong ball). To the 2000s, where the Mavs are the only team in NBA history with as many wins in a decade without multiple titles (let alone the zero the Mavs have).

And it makes me laugh so hard when Spurs fans go out of their way to scoreboard Mavs fans. Does Bill Gates scoreboard homeless people? If so, he's as big a douche as most of the Spurs fans I know.

And I know I've said a million times that you have to support the home team. I get really mad at all of the Lakers fans in Dallas. Or the Yankees fans in Dallas. Or the Red Wings fans in Dallas. People who have grown up in Texas but choose to cheer for a team in a city they've never been to.

But I don't know if I can cheer for this team anymore. My heart just isn't strong enough. Because it isn't just that they choke...they have to make you believe first. They seduce you with magic and then break your heart.

Because two weeks ago, I couldn't imagine getting upset about the Mavericks. They were playing awful, and they were limping into the playoffs. I said that they might be the worst #3 seed in NBA history, and they were overwhelmingly getting picked to get beat by the Portland Trail Blazers.

Then I actually got invited to game one. I watched and had fun, and the team won. Then they went out and, despite low odds, won game two in relatively overwhelming fashion. To add to that, the Spurs and Lakers both lost their game ones, making both of them look beatable.

And I started to wonder. The team was dominant with DeShawn Stevenson starting earlier in the year, and now he was back in the starting lineup. Turnover machine and false messiah Rodrigue Beaubois was hurt and couldn't blow games anymore. Jason Kidd looked young and revitalized. Even Jason Terry looked like he'd played before. Things were looking up.

And even game three made me feel better about the team. In a hostile environment, with the Blazers making every shot they took, the Mavs were still able to hang in. Terry brought something offensively. And then there was the fact that Dirk really hadn't shot the ball well yet, despite being the strongest candidate for MVP of the series.

Then game four. A critical game. A Mavs win, and they just needed to win one of three with two at home. A Portland win and they have the momentum heading back to Dallas.

And in the third quarter, the Mavs played great. Portland didn't hit a shot until 2 minutes left, and Dallas was drilling everything. They took a 23-point lead. I look at my phone and Caron Butler, Dirk's strongest Tonto, was cleared for contact and practice.

Then Brandon Roy hits a 3-pointer to knock the lead back down to 18. And something hit my gut. I realized something, and it made me sick.

Portland was shooting terrible. The law of averages said that they would rebound. That meant they would hit most of their fourth quarter shots.

And they basically did. The fourth quarter was a massacre. Not just to the Mavs but to my heart. I knew they were a tease. I knew they couldn't be trusted. I knew that they were just a painted-up harlot with too many years on her tires and nothing left to give. But I fell for it. I believed. Again.

They didn't go to the basket. They settled for bad jumpers and three pointers. They didn't give the ball to Dirk Nowitzki.

And on defense, they sucked. Ashley said they played good defense, but I couldn't disagree more. All I saw was Brandon Roy rushing to the basket for easy layups. Slashing passed Shawn Marion. And, of course, the officials giving dozens of free throws.

I knew they were going to lose from the moment that Roy 3-pointer hit at the end of the third. I just knew it. I sat there hoping that I was wrong, knowing it but just not being able to believe it. I still don't believe it.

One of the great traditions of Dallas sports fans is the question of what team will win it all next. And I think I know the answer. And the answer is "no one." This city is done winning. None of the teams have bright futures or strong horizons. The only hope is the freakin' Rangers, who are made of just as much fools' gold as the Mavericks are/were. No bullpen and average starting pitching won't get it done. They're just a slightly better version of the late 90s teams with all offense and no pitching.

But I'll keep watching. Keep believing. Keep hoping. And maybe my sentence for prior-life sins will slowly erode. Maybe, one day, my time will be served. But, from the looks of things, I have a life sentence.