UPPER DECK: For This Homer, Mavs Are Making The Nachos Taste Nachoier

   It is funny how sports take such an odd turn, the years when all the pundits predict greatness, frequently the teams struggle to be mediocre, and the years when mediocrity is predicted, once in a great while greatness ensues. It is almost as if the experts know no more than the rest of us.

   I know I base my yearly prediction on one very significant point, whether or not I like the team. For that reason and that reason alone, I always predict great things for the local team and by “predict’’ I mean “desperately hope.’’ I also usually predict bad things for the teams I dislike. For example, this year I predicted that the entire Spurs team would contract Swine Flu, grow curly tails, and move to the Hundred Acre Woods where they can play with Pooh and leave the rest of us alone.

   Yes, I admit it, I am a homer.

I cheer for the local teams and I thoroughly despise their rivals. I unashamedly cheer for the Mavericks, the Cowboys, the Stars, the Rangers … well, not really the Rangers because I specifically only cheer for teams with at least the same chance as frozen participation in the place of eternal punishment. But, on the whole I cheer for the locals, and not just for the sake of the team. I have noticed that the day after a Cowboys win the whole city is in a better mood, and the day after a loss, it is like the city is in mourning. It use to be said that the Dallas Morning News sold better the day after a win, but that was still when people actually read newspapers. (At this point, I can foresee days when the only newspapers are exhibits in Ripley’s, “Believe it or not people once read these every day.”)

The Mavericks have over time grown to replace the Cowboys as my favorite team even though I still cheer wildly for both. I think it is because of what I now refer to as Ranger’s Syndrome, the further removed a team is from championship relevance the less I care. I still remember the golden era of Cowboys sports, when Bob Lilly chased down Bob Griese and sacked him for an 80-yard loss in Super Bowl VI. I remember it clearly. I remember the Cowboys turning the Denver Orange Crush into a stomped Nugrape in Super Bowl XII. Of course, I remember the 90’s championships, but less and less I associate those teams with the current one. It is sort of the same as the Tennessee Titans, they may have once been the Oilers but they are not any longer. Unfortunately, the Cowboys have grown close to that in recent years, they may have once been the Cowboys, but now they look less and less like them. Although a thorough slaughter of the team from Washington D.C. that mocks Native Americans with their nickname would make me feel better about them.

Meanwhile, this year’s Mavericks have begun to encourage me. A team that was predicted to be mediocre at best by the sports geniuses that inhabit every television and radio station in the world, is actually doing pretty well and doing so despite having some significant injuries. Sharing the top spot in their division with some gassy spheres from Phoenix at this point of the season, is pretty encouraging, and the style of play has been more fun this year, and by more fun I mean they are winning more. I hear liars all the time saying, “I don’t care who wins as long as it is a good game.” I know better. I want a pounding, a one-sided game where the horde of evil-doers from the opposing team are left trying to make excuses, like, “It was as if the basketballs were organized against us!”

I am not sure it will last, I don’t know what the outcome of the season will be despite my prediction of a undefeated run through the playoffs, but I know the Mavericks are fun again, and when that happens the nachos taste a little better, the beer is a little colder, and the city is a little shinier. So as Thanksgiving week is upon us with a Mavericks sandwich spanning Thanksgiving, I know at the Carter household the turkey will taste a little better, and here is hoping yours does, too.

Happy Thanksgiving.