A single, subtle spotlight shone on superstar Maverick Dirk Nowitzki in Dallas as he held a microphone at his centre court stage like the chairman of the board Frank Sinatra. The good German gunner retiring his way.
At the love in of mid-February in Charlotte, North Carolina for the Basketball mid-season classic of the NBA All-Star Weekend, Dirk was named as a special honorary legendary addition to ‘Team Giannis’ squad. A fellow seven foot unicorn and Greek Freak of nature (but if Antetokounmpo is the most versatile big man of all-time it’s because Nowitzki is the most revolutionary) this European legend helped inspire like teammates Luka Doncic and Kristaps Porzingis (which in that order after Dirk may go down as the three best international basketball players of all-time). A best foreign big-three of all-time unfortunately now we will never see together play in the Texan triangle big-three, holy trinity. After Dirk has battled everyone from Tim Duncan’s in San Antonio to the Houston Rockets James Harden all alone for two decades plus. Alongside the rocking retiring tour chair of Dwyane Wade for his best friend, ‘Team LeBron’. And swapping jerseys in this gift of an exchanged season it’s been quite a show of in harmony, symbolic synchronicity of symmetry for these former final rivals with their own chips they brushed off their shoulders to come together for one photograph finish this year in uniform unity.
And even last night in a flash of lasts for this weeks grand finale of NBA history in this storied season, that has seen the San Fran Warriors to be play in the Golden State of Oakland for the very last time, Dirk scored 30 too (along with collecting 8 rebounds, 3 assists and a block) against a scorched Suns (though Sixth Man super sub legend worthy of his own parade Jamal Crawford had 51 to become the first player in NBA history to hit 50 for four different clubs) like Dwyane against the Sixers. All for a combined Kobe final 60 (although this 40 year old franchise lifer you once free agent cold called did it off 30 shots Bean as he checked your box score) for these Mamba era mentality legends as both called game and it a career for the record book memories of those who changed the association from big threes to bigs who could shoot the three. Superteams to seven foot unicorn stores like Captain Marvels.
And how fitting for the great downtown hope of Larry Bird with the shot to introduce him (along with heroes Scottie Pippen, Charles Barkley and Seattle Supersonics legends Shawn Kemp and Detlef Schrempf) at the half for a full tribute that shed tears you simply couldn’t help to wipe away? As after the Wade’s world waltz of the One Last Dance season of number 3 really gave us the 82 game time to savour and celebrate all he’s done on court as we wished him on his way of Wade, after weighing up the love for the game pros and injury riddled cons all stunted season, Dirk put it plainly in a simple sentence as we might have expected, “this is my last home game”. As a big disbelief, disappointed “aww” erupted. Followed by a chorus of cheers that stood in auditorium decibel audible ovation.
One exit last night on a red carpet, the other out the back door. One more celebratory. The other more subtley so. But neither wrong. Both just done with class in their own, unique individual way. Just like the players and professionals they were and remain will always be. And if Dwyane is top three in all-time Shooting Guards, then Dirk is the greatest of all-time when it comes to players shooting from other shores. His lethal fadeaway from deep may as well have been as far back as his home country for your Euro-step, let alone the three point line. It belongs right next to Kareem’s hook or M.J.’s fade as one of the greatest, most unstoppable shots in L history. The most beautiful parquet perfect sight to behold from the elbow to the nosebleeds.
But how this man changed the game is in more than this blonde bombers shaggy shot and the one he had and now others do in this league, with that ingrained in the surface of the Spalding will to never give up as you fingertip spin the ball on your palms by the seams of beyond the arc.
All you have to do is look to the future to see what this monumental man has built like the statue that will one day reside outside a Dallas, Texas who once thought, “who the hell is this kid”?
A Hall of Famer people.
So whilst they clink Budweiser’s for Dwyane out in the talented Wade County of South Beach bringing and saying goodbye to the Heat, it’s time to light a Cuban for this stogies last cigar now his career is endgame ash.
The west will never be this wild again without this long range gun. But at least after this last home-stand one of our generations greats will have one last run at the Alamo in San Antonio for a Texas derby ride this Thursday.
After 21 seasons number 41 is done after one last game, for just one team, after all this time. And now it’s all on to the double 7.
Danke Dirk. Let’s look for Luka.
Long live the Maverick.
But please not you too Vince. Not just yet.
Patrick Beverley Doesn’t Give A F…
If life really is measured on f###s. L.A. guard of the Clippers kennel, Patrick Beverley has none left to give.
Frankly my dear, in Hollywood this guy doesn’t give a damn.
He doesn’t care that the Lakers drafted and dealt him like Pau Gasol’s younger brother Marc (even if for fuel he once may have). They’ve made that young core mistake time (Julius) after time (D’Angelo) and history will Anthony Davis itself again. He doesn’t care about LeBron James and his Hollywood throne. Or even Lonzo Ball and his opening night. He doesn’t care that the Lakers are the Tinseltown toast of Hollywood and L.A.’s team. He doesn’t care that they share STAPLES like borrowing office supplies from the next cubicle. They aren’t even in the playoffs right now. But his team is. Covering up banners with the balls to raise one of their own one day. He cares about this side of L.A. Their way.
Patrick Beverley doesn’t care about the Houston Rockets, James Harden, Russell Westbrook, or the Oklahoma City Thunder like Kevin Durant. And he doesn’t care about him or Steph Curry, Klay Thompson, Draymond Green, DeMarcus Cousins or any Splash Brother Warriors from Oakland to San Francisco. You can talk about how Kevin Durant cares about him though. Look at that look of love for the game he’s bringing on his face in the midst of all that trash talking respect disguised as hate. I haven’t seen Kevin this happy in years. For all that emotion K.D. has received ever since he switched shores to the Bay, this is the only time he’s loved this type of hate. Because it’s not that. It’s just the passion of competition. And there’s nothing “just” about that, although all is fair in love and basketball war. Because like the late, great Charlie Murphy once said about Prince serving pancakes and behind the backs on ‘Chappelle’s Show’ epic real Hollywood stories, “this cat can ball man”.
Would anyone like some grapes?
I guarantee Patrick Beverley doesn’t care if you do. Like he doesn’t even care that Durant dominates this photo that speaks a thousand words or more for this article like we were shamelessly trying to bait more clicks. When really we’re trying to show how David looks in the face of Goliath from his vantage point. Not to mention the joy laced with “oh s### this guy’s really got me” look on the face of one of the greatest in the game about to get ejected too for going toe to toe with a super sub. But never underesimate the power of a microwave player like leaving your reheated Subway sandwich in the nuke cooker for too long. No matter how much you blow on it or fan it with you skittish hands, it’ll never quite feel like it’s going to cool off from its magma serving like a deep burn (we’re talking more ‘Big Bang’ Sheldon Cooper Aloe Vera here, more than ‘Anchorman’ Ron Burgundy’s thousand bicep curls that probably started at around nine hundred and ninety nine). Hello Lou Will, 6 Man of all-time, popping nachos after he did the Warriors celebration balloon like fallen Forum ones in Celtics cursed storied Lakerland. He doesn’t care about tacos, this cheese is for all the salsa. Pat Bev doesn’t even care that this Laker fan wishes he would have worn purple and gold like others he still wishes would (miss Zu). Like he probably doesn’t care for this shortened version of his name.
Patrick Beverley won’t even care about this article but we do.
He doesn’t care that the Durant dynasty as hot as Curry from downtown Oak Town are champions for years running more than faucets that leak as much as the splash in the Golden Gate of Golden State’s Pacific. To be specific he doesn’t even care if his team is down 31. Because another 30 points from sweet Lou will turn this game around and into the makings of a all guts to their own glory road, ESPN 30 for 30 documentary as the Clippers clip all that like short back and sides. Just like the place you parlour pool your postgame analysis in the next day as you’re former haircut gets dustpan swept up like many people thought these L.A. kings of the underground would be on their way by now like “we close in half an hour”. But now they stand as underdogs of the year in an end of season award category that should be invented with this guy being it’s de facto MVP for his team. Most Improved? Nah? Patrick Beverley doesn’t care about that.
He doesn’t care about you. The name on the back of your jersey. Or the team on the front. No matter how many people in the stands share those strands. He doesn’t care if he gets in your head like the Spotify song of the moment, or under your skin like that underrated Scarlett Johansson movie that sees her as an alien riding around Scotland in a a truck picking up dudes (why was I not in Glasgow that week?). He doesn’t care that I wasn’t in Glasgow that week. Neither does Scarlett.
What he does care about is his job, his role and his team. And he doesn’t care if he has to get ejected like the passenger seat in James Bond’s old Sean Connery era Aston Martin to do it. He doesn’t care if you’ve just been jettisoned from 007’s car. He doesn’t care if you’re shaken or stirred. You should have worn a seatbelt. He cares about buckling up and down. Guarding the opposing teams best player. Even if it is one of the best in the world right now. And he doesn’t care about switching to the other best player in the world on the same damn team if the occasion calls for it. He doesn’t care about that. He just cares about rising to the occasion. Answering the call. He doesn’t care if Philly are on their phones. He cares about what’s at stake. He cares about making them sweat for every shot, swat or not. He cares that tonight’s he’s going to give his all come tip. Because here’s a tip for you, what Patrick Beverley DOES care about is the game. Like the one Allen Iverson goes out there and dies for. Forget practice. Stepping over Kevin freaking Durant like Ty Lue. Like he 1 through 15 cares about his band of brothers. Like family. Like what he’d give everything for. Sweat after shot. Cheap or invested. Never throwing in the towel, or even taking a Gatorade break. Unlike Young Jeezy he doesn’t even care about how much Gatorade makes. And who even cares about Lob City these days after they threw it all away? Chris Paul, Blake Griffin and even saving Jordan before DeAndre ended up at the Garden like M.J. at his best? That’s all history Doc. He cares about Rivers that run deep. Not the air up there in LAX like the Hollywood Hills, but the grounding reality of what this game is all about. Spalding to hardwood.
Patrick Beverley doesn’t care about 10 points and 5 assists. His line or a career high. All he cares about tonight is that the box score of stats reads a W for the team he gives his blood, sweat and opponents tears for. So here’s for him, whether he cares for it or not. Like being the only player that reminds us of those golden era mined tough 90’s years. Or much like those Oakley and Mase (Rest Peacefully money) Knicks, in stark contrast the grit and grind Grizzlies that this gnarly son of an expletive-we can’t mention like the no f words given again and again in this article-would be perfect for alongside fellow defensive dog back in the day Tony Allen. He doesn’t care that there’s no one like him in a league who needs more players exactly like this. Because believe me you know who does care?
Every other player in this league who has to face him. Because face it. Like him or not he’s the realest thing to happen to this game since hand checking. So you really do have to hand it to him.
But if you don’t? Guess what we don’t give?
Clippers’ nacho-eating Lou Williams collection a viral masterpiece
When your name is Lou Williams nothing is out of reach.
Exhibit A — casually rescue your team from a 31-point hole to set an NBA playoff and Los Angeles Clippers franchise record for the largest comeback victory — defeating the defending champs Golden State Warriors 135-131 in one of the few remaining games in a building where post-season victories rarely comeby.
Exhibit B — Continuing the 36-point, 11-assist double-double by double-dipping on a large nacho-platter in the Warriors visiting room whilst cooling out the knees to funny social media memes of historic events that just transpired.
Exhibit C — casually show-up in eating nachos on infamous masterpiece paintings such as Leonardo Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” or casually Sunday afternoon chilling on George Seurat’s oil on canvas island of La Grand Jatte from 1884.
@LAClippers’ nacho-eating Lou Williams masterpiece collection
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