30 Years...

The Dallas Mavericks and I were both born in 1980. Don Carter wanted to show his wife Linda how much he loved her and basketball, so he started the franchise for her. I was too young to remember the Derek Harper/Rolando Blackman/Sam Perkins/ Mark Aguirre/Brad Davis/Detlef Shrempf era in full, my best memories of the Dallas Mavericks came during the Quinn Buckner days. During a period when the Dallas Mavericks couldn't make it very far in the playoffs thanks to the Lakers 80s dominance, the Reunion Rowdies had established themselves as a very good team.

My earliest memory I think was of Roy Tarpley, the troubled player who infamously could never get his alcohol problems together together, thus was expelled from the NBA, then later permanently banned due to his addiction. Roy was a solid player, and a destined star, but he broke the hearts of many Mavericks fans. By that point the golden years were over, and the dark ages loomed heavily. Quinn Buckner was brought in, merely adding to the string of coaches that simply couldn't cut the mustard after the original coach, Dick Motta left for greener pastures.

Then there were The 3 J's: Jamal Mashburn, Jason Kidd, and Jim Jackson. They were touted as the saviors of the Dallas Mavericks. They would be the ones we all thought would finally take the team to the promise land. They even brought Dick Motta back as head coach. Injuries, egos, and overall bickering kept The 3 J's from reaching their full potential. The group was disolved, and Motta was sent back to the Bed & Breakfast he ran with his wife. Don Carter sold the majority of the team to Ross Perot, Jr, and he brought in his own coach, Jim Cleamons, who was an assistant coach during the Chicago Bulls three-peat. Eventually the team was sold again.

I remember sitting in my friend's apartment, watching TV when he told me that the Dallas mavericks had been sold to a billionaire who was also a fan. I was skeptical. The new big 3 was now Steve Nash, Dirk Nowitzki, and Michael Finley. Mark Cuban seemed hell bent on winning a championship in Dallas. Every year in the playoffs they came "this" close, often times getting ousted by their cross state rivals, the San Antonio Spurs. For many years the hatred between Dallas and San Antonio was the only thing that would keep our fans going. I used to say that as long as we beat the Spurs, it didn't matter how far we got.

After several years of me getting excited when our team did beat the Spurs, and then laying down flat on the floor of the dorm hall when we didn't, our team started winning. Then 2006 came along and we beat the Spurs in convincing fashion to earn our first trip to the NBA finals. It was under Coach Avery Johnson, who was Don Nelson's apprentice for many years, and whom I and everyone else would truly be the man to take the Mavericks to the promise land.

After a shocking and upsetting finals loss to the Miami Heat, we all felt spurned. Then in 2007, the Dallas Mavericks took their number 1 seed, and Dirk's league MVP, and stunk up the joint in the first round against the Golden State Warriors. 2006 was that nightmare season. 2007 was the year arrogance took over when the Mavs thought they were just going to steam roll the Warriors.

Years passed and no matter what, everyone still could not stop talking about that loss to the Heat. In 2010-2011, it was time to go back. After beating Portland, I, and most of the country thought they wouldn't get past the Los Angeles Lakers, whom everyone had pegged as the champions already. Then a funny thing happened: The Dallas Mavericks swept the Los Angeles Lakers in convincing fashion. The Mavs beat the Thunder, and then it was on.

Only the Miami Heat, the time that celebrated on our home court, stood in our way. The Mav's nightmare was staring them in the face. It was time to face the past. Dirk was more focused and determined than ever before. Jason "Jet" Terry was out for revenge, and a shot at redemption. It was time.

As I watched the game from a sports bar in downtown Fort Worth, all I could think was that this was our time. Everyone doubted the Dallas Mavericks. Everyone wrote them and Dirk off as soft, and they'd they'd never win anything. The Dallas Mavericks proved everyone wrong. As the clock wound down, and the crowd got more and more antsy, I couldn't believe it. It was actually happening. I got emotional as the entire bar erupted in a rendition of "We are the Champions." When the buzzer hit zero it finally hit me: we are the NBA champions.

I thought about all those times years ago where as a kid I held onto hope, and I cheered on my favorite team as they nose dived year after year. I supported them when nobody else did. I cheered on Jason Kidd when he took the floor as a rookie in 94. I scratched my head at the gimmicky signings of Wang Zhizi, and Dennis Rodman, and I felt hurt the day Roy Tarpley was banned from the league.

Here is to Don Carter, Rolando Blackman, Derek Harper, Jason Kidd, Brad Davis, Dirk Nowitzki, Jason Terry, JJ Barea, Shawn Marion, Brendan Haywood, Deshawn Stevenson, Tyson Chandler, Mark Cuban, Brian Cardinal, and the rest of the team. You have all deserved to hoist up that trophy and finally call yourselves NBA Champions!