Third Mavs Quarter

I had to take a phone call which ended up lasting the entire third quarter. I was told by someone that was watching that the only thing that happened was "Dirk hit some shots and a three. Not much."

And I also promised to mention the phrase "man-pris" in the third quarter wrap-up. Go Mavs?

Second Mavs Quarter

I know you guys said that Gooden was going to be no-Gooden but I have to disagree. What was awful was the same thing that has been awful with the Mavs since the continents of the Earth first began to break off and shift and form the current 7 continents. Those stupid, brick layups that never go. Those meh shots. Those "terrified of the paint" shots that dominated the entire first half of the second quarter. Oh Mavs, I missed you so much I even missed that stupid stuff.

Also awesome was watching Barea, for completely inexplicable reasons, fall to his knees mid-dribble in the paint. I still have no idea what happened. Sudden burst of Catholicism? Flashback to pre-basketball rent boy days? I have no idea. But it was awesomely awkward and funny.

The Mavs started finally showing and little hustle and (gasp!) defense in the last three minutes of the quarter only to have their hearts ripped out and showed to them, Temple of Doom-style, in the final second when a steal was stolen from them by Washington and sunk at the buzzer. KALI-MA!

First Quarter of the Opening Night of Mavs Season

(all apologies to the wonderful and potentially batshit crazy Anita Ekberg)

The first quarter ends tied up 21-21. Mavs shooting 38%. I'm already impressed with the applause that Barea got when he was sent in. Mavs were 9-9 on free throws. But more disturbing to me was the endless pimping of Twitters and Facebooks. Bob's Twitter. Mark's Facebook. Bob and Mark's broadcast team's Facebook. Skin's Twitter for his Facebook profile. The Twitter group to discuss the Facebook profile for the messageboard for the chat forum for people who like to IM during the game. Seriously guys, social networking has a stopping point. Like when you see those old ladies who leave the house with tattooed on eyeliner, lipliner, diesel fuel for perfume, 18 different pieces of costume jewelry, five pairs of reader glasses in her hair and a shirt with some sort of jungle cat on it? That's what your social networking overkill is becoming. Alternately, if I become that woman, please just leave me be. I'm probably totally aware of it and enjoying it.