June 24, 1998;The soon-to-be-vacated GM Place in Vancouver played host to the NBA Draft; one that would produce a multitude of success stories such as Paul Pierce, Vince Carter, Antawn Jamison, and of course, Michael Olowokandi. Somewhat buried in the annals of franchise-altering horrible trades was one that went down that day; the Milwaukee Bucks snagged German 7-foot prospect Dirk Nowitzki with the 9th pick, and shipped him to the Dallas Mavericks with Pat Garrity for 6th pick Robert Traylor. The Bucks took the loser's end hard, as Traylor's career buckled before it ever took off, while Dallas rode Nowtizki's revolutionary play to a decade's worth of playoff appearances. The tragic part about Dirk's success was that it never seemed to come when it mattered most, and the Mavs flamed out in the playoffs, year after year.
A tragedy of a much greater magnitude took form on May 11th, when Traylor - who had been plagued by conditioning issues throughout his career - suffered a fatal heart attack at his Puerto Rico apartment. Around the same time, the Diggler - who had been plagued by playoff invisibility issues throughout his career - began an all-out assault on opposing defences that's forced even the most jaded Dirk hater (me, in case you're wondering) to admit that he's playing the best basketball in the NBA right now, leading an emphatic charge into the Finals.
Now, by no means am I trying to claim that some preordained supernatural bullshit is connecting these two incidents. Nor am I even suggesting that Traylor's passing made a light go off in Dirk's head that produced this devastating blitzkrieg. But the irony of this timing can't be ignored, because Nowitzki is suddenly playing playoff basketball with a sense of something he's never grasped before: urgency. He's 32, and been in the NBA for 12 years; he saw the window closing and knew this was the time to go all-out with the best team he's ever played on. Dirk spent years listlessly drifting through the playoffs; sure he scored in bunches, but he hardly ever served his opponents with the vicious killer instinct he's displayed these past few weeks. The kind of mentality that evokes not only respect, but fear.
The Mavs now roll into the Finals, looking to avenge the collapse that has marred their last decade's success, against the (well, not really) same team that buried them. While they have depth and experience on Miami for days, the Heat just beasted the team that was probably best equipped to defend them in the NBA and are looking very serious. Miami (obviously) owns the edge at 2 & 3, and although that's about all they have going for them, stopping Lebron & Wade (I'm not going to mention Bosh because as impressive as he was against the Bulls, Boozer was a bum, and Nowitzki is going to destroy him, like confidence-shattering ownage) - by anyone's measuring stick, two of the top five players in the league - when they're this close to a title is going to be very f***ing difficult, especially for a team with only two serviceable defenders to throw at them.
The key to this series figures to be the ability of Dallas' offensive secondary to offset the LeWyane Effect. If guys like Barea and Terry, and Marion can overcome what's sure to be a stifling defensive effort from James and Wade, and provide Dirk with consistent scoring support, then Dallas will be tough to beat. But what I can't get out of my head is how the Western Finals were essentially decided by OKC repeatedly shooting themselves in the face down the stretch of close games, while the Heat closed out several games with crippling 4th quarters, forcing silence upon all those that criticized their clutch factor this season. Which is what's forcing me to believe that despite Dirk's emancipation, the Mavs are, once again, about to come up short. I really hate saying this (even if it validates my preseason prediction): Heat in 6. It's a shame the title celebration won't look this stupid.
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