The Mavericks Hang In There
Leading up to last night’s game, the NBA Finals had gone as nearly everyone expected: the Miami Heat have played better than the Dallas Mavericks, and they have behaved worse. Game One was a textbook Heat win and exemplified why this match-up is so difficult for the Maverick defenders. LeBron James and Dwyane Wade performed their “I go, now you go” routine and Dirk Nowitzki’s “I go, now…hey you’re a really old and streaky shooter” was simply no match for them.
Game Two was a textbook “Why everyone hates the Heat” loss. Their boorish antics toward the end of the second game, preening and prancing about, throwing fake punches at each other, staring down the Mavericks bench while being up 15 points with 7 minutes left, was actually startling. I have seen a lot of classless acts by great teams — the Pistons refusal to shake the Bulls’ hands after Jordan finally beat them in ’91 comes easily to mind — but I have never seen players put their own egos before actually winning the game. The disrespect they showed the Mavericks was just what it appeared to be — a handful of pampered millionaires with a manufactured grudge trying to look hard.
It was a curious tack to take given the Dallas Mavericks had a more difficult road to these Finals than the Heat did. For the Heat to think they could toy with the Mavericks was the height of arrogance. And guess what? The Mavericks showed that they didn’t buy a ticket to the NBA Finals themselves, and clawed back, while everyone in the free world (other than Heats fans) rejoiced. Not just because the hero-takes-a-fall theme has been popular since Biblical times, or because those of us who like crappy basketball teams are bitter and jealous of the Heat’s wealth of talent. But because we like it when jerks get their comeuppance.
Afterward, James and Wade displayed a defensiveness that would’ve come in handy during the penultimate seven minutes of the game. Wade questioned whether his extended pose while standing virtually atop the Mavericks bench players could be construed as celebrating. Apparently, in his eyes, celebrating involves confetti and balloons. James did his textbook “you all” media excoriation. And Chris Bosh said that is defense on Nowitzki on the final possession cost his team “two points.” Erik Spoelstra, who coached the final stretch as if he had a softball lodged in his throat, was defiant, telling his team that they had been in that situation “many times before.” Whatever you say, Coach, but can you please stop dressing like a guest at a rom-com wedding?
Dallas was hyped up for Game Three, but never seemed to get in the groove and Miami did just enough to win. I figured that was it: the Heat, having survived the Mavericks’ emotional surge would make it a tidy five-game win. Maybe six. They looked more like a championship team and less like the cast of Honey during rehearsals.
And so as Game Four unfolded I expected the Mavs to try and keep it close, but lose. Even the Abe Lincoln tattoo on Deshawn Stevenson’s neck looked skeptical of his team’s chances. Yet who could have anticipated LeBron James scoring eight measly points on 3-of-11 shooting? If you follow any of Twitter’s NBA pontificators, they have been contorting themselves to give the Heat superstars some context, alternately comparing James then Wade to Michael Jordan. Even last night, they were smugly waiting for LeBron to “take this over” and Wade to “finish them, like Mike.”
Except Wade missed that free throw right at the end (like Mike never did) and LeBron scored 50% fewer points than Jason Terry. I said very early this season that maybe LeBron (who has now had three mediocre Finals games under his elastic waistband) is just a really good Scottie Pippen. Maybe.
And just like that, with the 86–83 win, the Mavericks have created a credible path to the title: win Game Five at home, and one of two in Miami, which is not exactly the greatest home court advantage in NBA history.
Earlier yesterday I would’ve thought the Heat wouldn’t be taxed again this series, and I would have to stop watching basketball for the next five months. But the Mavericks are resilient and gritty, and they’ve hung around long enough to make me believe in them. Even though they are older than Lou Rawls’ older brother, they are compelling to watch, have a great, measured coach and we may actually have the privilege of seeing Commissioner David Stern hand team owner Mark Cuban the Larry O’Brien Trophy, through gritted teeth.
If that happens, you’ll surely see some dancing and it won’t just be in front of the Heat bench. It will be all over America.
Tony Gervino is a New York City-based editor and writer obsessed with honing his bio to make him sound quirky. He can also be found here.
