We used to have season tickets to the Mavericks games when I was growing up. And this was back in the days of Reunion Arena, to really date myself. Rolando Blackman. Mark Aguirre. Sam Perkins. Brad Davis. Uwe Blab. Poor little Kurt Nimphius, who I always felt sorry for. Detlef Schrempf, who I love seeing occasionally on Parks and Recreation. (And yes, I had to Google some of these names.) So these were the dudes I grew up cheering for. It's no Dirk Nowitzki, but it was such greatness.
My very first "date" was to a Mavericks game. I brought my little 3rd grade boyfriend (technically, we "dated" from 2nd-4th grade - the longest relationship I have ever had - and I forced him into it because he was really shy. Sorry about that, John.) and my parents rented a white stretch limo to take us to the game. (Remember, kids - this was 1985 and white limos were HOT.) I remember us opening and closing the moon roof and him asking me if that was our car. Ha.
So with over 20 years of memories, goooo Mavs. Let's DO this.
I think this blog post helped us win. Tooting my own horn. Tooooot.
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