Give Me Three More

Flawless. Beautiful. A masterpiece. The most perfect and admirable work of art I've ever seen. The kind of thing you want your daughter to marry. Game Two of the Western Conference Semi-Finals between the Mavs and Spurs.

Anyway way you want to describe it, the truth rings out. The Mavs' performance in Game Two on Tuesday night was the perfect basketball game. Who cares if Avery Johnson says they could still find things wrong. Who cares that we didn't shoot 100% from the field and free throw line. Who cares that people say nothing is perfect.

I'll love that game as long as I live. I'll think about it when I go to sleep at night (after I kiss my wife of course). When I'm old, dying and can only utter one more thing out of my decaying, chapped lips I'll say, "Remember game two....." Then I'll die, with a half-smirk on my face, a Mavericks flag in my hand and a Josh Howard dunk in my heart (that's no longer beating).

OK, back down to earth. The Mavs dominated game two, but lets not get carried away. The Spurs are good. We split in San Antonio, but we're playing the Spurs, not the Grizzlies. I do, however, like what I see in Robert Horry, Nick Van Exel, Michael Finley, Tony Parker, Manu Ginobli and Brent Barry: a lost step. Every one of those guys is either hurt or old. Tim Duncan is hurt, but he doesn't make that list because he can still take over a game with only one good wheel.

All we have to do the rest of the series is run circles around our I-35 rival. If we continue to out score the defending champs in the fast break, bench, and second chance columns, I will guarantee a win. And with a series win over our arch-nemesis, the Mavs will ride the confidence boost and mental edge all the way to the franchise's first NBA championship. So just give me three more wins against those dang Spurs, then I can really die happy.
mr