After watching the most entertaining NBA Finals game I’ve ever seen, I have been thinking about some things as the series goes back to Miami with Dallas ahead 3-2, and Mavs’ Dirk Nowitzki super-giddy about closing out the series and putting a ring on his finger – and an MVP trophy. I ask the tough questions to evaluate the rest of the series.
How much does God love the Mavericks?
A lot. For everything the Mavericks have had to do to counter the Heat, they’ve been able to do. To come from behind, down 15 in game 2, they do it. For the Heat to shoot 53 percent and score over 100 points in game 5, and the Mavs to have to counter that – they were able to. Someone is looking down on the Mavericks.
I mean, give me a break! Dallas shoots 56 percent, to the Heats’ 53. Plus, Dallas shoots 70 percent from three-point range. Give me a break! They did it! Granted, some were open shots, but a lot were contested… and they still make the shots.
If you said: “Heat shoot 53 percent from the field, and score over 100 points,” without mentioning what the Mavs would do, what would you say? Who would win? HEAT. Don’t try to argue with me that the Mavs would that game. Don’t try to counter me and say, “Mavs shoot 56 percent, they would win.” Don’t give me that! Heat win going away.
But that didn’t happen. God loves the Mavs.
Have the Heat lost their swag?
Something is seriously wrong with the Heat. They are not the team we saw in game 1 of the Finals, or in the Boston or Chicago series. They are not that team. Maybe something mentally shattered after the game 2 collapse, and nobody – not even the Heat players – know it.
There might be something that is so buried in their brains, deep rooted, that they can’t do anything about it. In game 1, Miami was 9-for-18 in the 4th quarter, 50 percent from the field, to close out the Mavs and win by 8. At that point, who knew that’d be the most points Miami would win by the rest of the series?
Then they blow game 2, game 4, and lost game 5 because the Mavs shot more lights out than the Heat. There was more shattered glass in the Mavs’ bag, than the Heat.
Again, though, you saw a problem late in the 4th quarter with Miami. After they had taken the lead by getting a lot of easy lay-ups, Dwayne Wade hit a three out of Dallas’ time out, and then they started shooting jump shots. LeBron DEFINITELY does not have confidence taking that jump shot anymore, and that will cost Miami dearly… it may cost them the series. Also, LeBron has not been getting to the free throw line, and that’s hurt him too – he gets a lot of points there.
Then again, there might be the argument that the Heat players haven’t gotten any of the calls they’d get in Miami. Meanwhile, there were a lot of weaker fouls that got called for the Mavs, against the Heat, on the other end. Not to mention, the charging call at the end of the game called on LeBron was a huge call. Tyson Chandler had one foot in the restricted circle, so that call maybe should have been a block. Talk about a turn of events. LeBron did make that basket – didn’t count. Could’ve been a three-point play to tie the game for the Heat. Instead, the Mavs go down and get points to extend the lead.
How does a 2-3-2 Finals format not favor the team with three straight games?
This has been on my mind recently. I much prefer the other format of the playoffs, 2-2-1-1-1. That format evens it out a little bit. Instead, the Finals seem to favor a team like the Mavs, whereas people say the Heat have home court advantage.
If the team with three straight home games takes care of business at home, then they are already one game away from winning the title, even if the team with the first two home games win those. So how would the quintessential “road team” not have the advantage?
I don’t get it. My brother says it’s hard to win three games in a row in the Finals, which I understand, but if a team takes care of business at home, then they would be going into game 6 up 3-2, one away from a title.
Then again, if teams take care of home advantage, then the team with 2-and-2 would win the series eventually. I contradict myself.