[MavsFanFinley]

Operation: Lakers
Moldy Bra, Dirk's Ankle, 'The Laet Show'

By Mike Fisher -- DallasBasketball.com

There was one Maverick who, even before tipoff of Tuesday’s meeting with Washington, was looking ahead to Thursday’s showdown with the Lakers.
LA PAPERS
Of course, what else does injured UberMan Dirk Nowitzki have to do to occupy his time? A few sights and sounds from Tuesday, all of which serves as a warmup for the Lakers’ visit:

It’s about 7 p.m., and we spot Dirk in workout gear. The official word is that Nowitzki won’t play against the Wiz, and that he might not appear again until next week, so. … what gives?
Dirk, it turns out, had just finished his private session on the practice court, working up a sweat despite his ankle problem.
‘It’s the Lakers, it’s Thursday, and I know it’s a big game,’ is all Nowitzki is prepared to say about anything.

Maybe it’s because the Mavs aren’t near their peak, maybe it’s because Dirk is hurt, maybe it’s because we’re suffering from Mavvirus, that disease that makes long-time Mavs followers assume everything sucks. But it’s difficult to come up with a positive feeling about what might happen against the Lakers.
Unless. …
Unless you consider how the Mavs avoided a trap on Tuesday. That was a set-up game – or, because of the fact that the previous Dallas game was against Midwest rival Minnesota, maybe we should call it a sandwich game. It would have been easy to overlook a team that, when analyzed for me by an NBA friend of mine, has ‘a smart player in Laettner and a kid with some talent in Kwame Brown.’
Sidebar here: With Stackhouse, Arenas and Jordan, the Wiz might not be awful. But Stack is hurt, Arenas is hurt, and the Jordan calling rhe shots is Eddie, not Michael.
Anyway, maybe the Mavs should get credit for taking care of business, by 25 points no less, in preparation for LA. Still, I like the quote from Antawn Jamison: We can't play like this and beat the Lakers. You win by 20-something (over the Wiz) and something must be going right. But we'll have to be better Thursday."

So, before the game, a TV cameraman fellow is attempting to entertain his co-workers with a tale of his travels. He says something about staying in a hotel room one time and climbing into a bed with soiled sheets, and then looking behind the TV to find a ‘moldy bra’ back there.
Dear sir: In show biz, they say timing is everything. Which explains why you are BEHIND the camera and not in front of it. If anyone was interested in your moldy bra story, it certainly wasn’t while we were eating in the media dining room.

A slice of The Life: A player, before the Mavs-Wiz game, puts in a comp ticket request. He needs five. But he needs three over there and two over there. From my many, many years covering sports, I can translate: One girl who is chasing said athlete needs to sit real far away from the other girl who is chasing said athlete.
You go, Playa.

Pregame warm-ups and here comes ex-Mav Christian Laettner to shake some hands of old friends. Did he ever hit it off with Shawn Bradley? Maybe they’ll chum it up. Michael Finley, as a team leader, probably embraced Christian when he was here, huh? Dirk and Christian? Nash and Christian?
Nope. Laettner makes the effort to come across center court to exchange pleasantries with … Travis Best?!

Almost three hours before game time, and Michael Finley is going at it HARD.
It’s Fin working one-on-one with assistant Morlon Wiley, but it’s a different sort of one-on-one. For one thing, Wiley never gets the ball. He’s always on defense. For another, Fin starts intentionally from different spots on the court. And for a third, Fin always starts off the dribble drive.
Nobody is watching; it’s me and two ushers. But this is intense. Twenty minutes in, Finley’s gray T-shirt is drenched to black. And when he misses a shot, he is pissed. Shaking his head. Muttering to himself. Throwing a fist in the air in anguish.
Fin finished the workout with the series of free throws and then three back-to-back-to-back explosive dunks. Then he makes his way to the locker room, still muttering to himself about the missed shots