04/07/2001

Now that the Mavericks are playoff-bound for the first time in 11 years, players and coaches wear halos and their bandwagon is overbooked, remember when....?

• General manager Don Nelson was the cuckoo who drafted or traded for an Australian kangaroo named Chris Anstey and Leon Smith, a mentally disturbed teenager from Chicago.

• Coach Don Nelson was a tactical pea head despite an upsurge of 19 victories that topped his maiden finish of 16 wins. Nelson was generally perceived as a nut.

• Point guard Steve Nash arrived from Phoenix in a crippled state but nonetheless received a warm welcome at Reunion Arena. Nash was warmly booed.

• Dirk Nowitzki, from nearby Germany, became a No. 1 draftee instead of Paul Pierce, choice of hometown pundits who scouted both players from atop barstools. His pick cemented Nelson's persona as an idiot and isolated Nowitzki as an immediate flop when he didn't earn Rookie of the Year honors as the dopey GM-coach forecast.

• Ross Perot Jr. sold the franchise to Mark Cuban, whose first remark led to 84 consecutive rainless days when he admitted his ownership model was Jerry Jones. A rush of season ticket holders updated their passports.

Don Nelson

These examples of undiluted support testify to an emerging point. A once-dowdy franchise can be lifted by unwavering faith from patient fans, all-knowing squawk-talk radio and writers of written words they'd like to retract. How else can you explain a 49-26 record before Saturday night's home tip against Utah?

Hometown loyalty has been the rock against which the Mavericks always could lean, certain that we'd be there to sustain them so long as they didn't lose two in a row. They drew strength from knowing we were behind them even at a distance to the rear. Everyone saw what has become obvious. And that is ...

GM Nelson is a talent-spotting genius.

Coach Nelson is a brilliant strategist seldom out-foxed.

Nash is evolving into our best point guard since Derek Harper retired.

Nowitzki isn't the second coming of anyone except his own special self.

Cuban has curbed most of his sophomoric ways and proven a rare owner in that he doesn't recognize a bottom line. Cuban spent $12 million – near the original franchise cost to Don Carter – on four trades or draft-day moves within the last year.

There have been few dark days for Cuban. His takeover coincided with last season's late rush to a 40-42 finish. The others have known gloomier times.

The worst for Nelson lay aside the avalanche of losses and a consensus that he couldn't pick an NBA player from a room full of Chinese – criticism refuted this week with the appearance of Wang Zhizhi from neighboring Beijing. Nelson worried that he'd stunted the pro career of son Donnie, an assistant with Phoenix before joining his father here in 1998.

"I took him out of a situation where he might have been a head coach by now," said Nelson. "He got lumped in with me instead of being a bright, young coach with upside.

"I don't care about myself. I'm too old to worry about it. But I wish for his future and mind-set I hadn't done that."

Hamstring and ankle woes slowed Nash's get-along last season. Injuries led to something worse.

"I couldn't move like I wanted to. Every day it was like going to work handicapped. Ultimately, it was the night I was booed. To me, believe it or not, it wasn't a big deal. I knew when I was healthy I'd be successful. Besides, I'd much rather be judged as a human being than an athlete."

Nowitzki suffered most as a rookie when he sat on the bench, an insult for a player who was The Man in around-the-block Wurzburg. He heard gripes that Nelson flubbed by snubbing Pierce.

"Especially that first year when he had a great season. I tried not to worry about it too much. It still comes up, and I don't know why," Nowitzki said. Do comparisons bother him?

"Why should it?" he replied. "We're both having great careers and should improve."

The same could be said for the young Mavericks, blessed as they are by constant, unrestrained local support.