okay, you're the eventual MVP of the NBA. you are in the midst of being waxed by a team that barely made the playoffs. as they begin a run that has the makings of an embarrassing beatdown. you are faced with an important decision each time you catch the ball. do you:
A. pass it quickly to someone else and make scoring their problem.
B. hide in the corner and hope that your teammates don't sees you.
C. put up only one shot as your team goes scoreless for over four minutes.
if you're dirk nowitzki, who has the killer instinct of a treehugger, who melts like ice cream in equador, who plays seven feet smaller than his listed height of seven feet, it's all of the above, and you've just rendered your MVP trophy as completely worthless while essentially flushing your legacy down the crapper.
well done, dirk. i'd tell you to enjoy golfing this summer, but you might interpret that as a challenge and refuse to tee off.
by the way, i got really sick of listening to steve kerr defend dirk through the game. "well, look, he always has someone on him." or "he looks of out sync." or "they're doubling him each time he catches the ball." or "they're taking him out of the game". or "i feel bad for all the criticism he's gonna hear". you know what? boo hoo. dirk is four inches taller than their tallest player. he should post up. plant himself somewhere near the basket. force up a shot so devean george doesn't have to shoot it. drive to the hoop. get fouled. call for the ball and take what he wants, and not what the defense gives him.
you know, make something happen. that's what the greats do.
great players make great plays. like baron davis did - on a bum hamstring.
oh, that's right. this is dirk. i forgot.
go warriors. although if houston beats utah, that might be a problem for them.
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