My favorite athlete ever is going into the Hall of Fame tomorrow

Here are five Dirk Nowitzki pictures that tell the story of what he means to me.

Can you recall what you were doing on June 24, 1998?

I can somewhat recollect. I had already submitted my resignation to my employer, indicating my departure from WLNI in Lynchburg, Virginia. I was preparing to commence my new position at KTCK, also known as The Ticket, located in Dallas.

I remember that I was getting my affairs in order and attempting to quell the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind. The prospect of discussing sports in one of the nation's largest cities was on the horizon, yet it all seemed surreal. I was apprehensive about relocating to an unfamiliar city and proving my mettle among the industry giants. This was essential to honor my commitment to my father-in-law, ensuring that I could provide for his daughter whom I had married a few years prior.

The June of 1998 marked a profound turning point in my life—there's no doubt about it. I'm quite certain that this pivotal moment also had a considerable impact on the DFW Metroplex. I recount this story frequently, but it holds significance even on this momentous occasion. In the span of a mere two weeks, the DFW sports realm warmly welcomed Dirk Nowitzki, Brett Hull, and Bob Sturm.

I kid, or course, about my addition to that group. If you’ve seen me play a few sports, you know I can be replaced by a potted plant. But, those other? Well, they are responsible for the only two parades this city has had to celebrate championships since Troy Aikman was very young.

Brett Hull was one of my childhood heroes and was my favorite hockey player as a kid.

(Chris Chelios a close second, partly because he was a Wisconsin Badger hero, and partly because my father-in-law arrested him in Madison for relieving himself in a parking lot. I assure you that my Mexican immigrant Father-in-Law did not follow hockey and had no idea who he was putting in cuffs).

Hull inked his contract as a free agent on July 3, 1998. In less than a year's time, he would go on to net several significant playoff goals, including one that remains vividly displayed on my wall. In that memorable instance, he bested Dominik Hasek from an extremely close distance, securing the city's sole Stanley Cup victory in 1999 and I witnessed it in person.

One can envision the 25-year-old version of myself, attempting to reconcile the astonishing reality of being present in a championship-winning locker room at 2:15 am, all this transpiring in under a year since departing from a small town in Virginia.

Nowitzki, on the other hand, I didn’t know.

In fact, one of my earliest takes in Dallas was likely wondering what Dallas was doing by passing on Robert Tractor Traylor and Paul Pierce to take a string bean from Germany. But, on June 24, 1998, Don and Donnie Nelson made a winning bet on a move that would trigger another parade in 2011.

Hull made a bigger impact in those first twelve months, but as we look back at their impact it’s pretty clear which one has a street named after him, which one has a statue, and which one has his name and number in the rafters.

It took Nowitzki considerable time and effort to arrive at his current stature, but where he stands today is atop a pedestal that might only be shared by a select group of revered Dallas icons. The likes of Roger Staubach, Nolan Ryan, The Triplets, and Dirk Nowitzki. This, in my view, constitutes the DFW Mount Rushmore, and I'm well aware that such a perspective could spark impassioned debates. Nonetheless, I am content with the conclusions drawn from my undertaking and I invite you to formulate your own interpretation. Certainly, individuals like Mike Modano, Byron Nelson, Ben Hogan, Bob Lilly, Pudge Rodriguez, and possibly a dozen more names warrant consideration. I've mulled over these options and still stand by my chosen monument.

But, let’s not bury the plot. There is nobody like Dirk. There is also no shortage of things being written about him right now, so I thought I would tell his story through some pictures and things I have written through the years if you don’t mind.

This is probably the best piece about Dirk I have ever written, back in 2019, and this passage that means a lot to me:

During the balance of Nowitzki’s career, we saw the Mavericks play 1,674 regular-season games and win 987 of them, for a winning percentage of .590 and an average annual record of 48-34. Subtract the last three years, during which Nowitzki was 38-40 and his body unavailable for a huge amount of games, and the number gets even more insane: 897-531, for a winning percentage of 63% and an average season record of 52-30.

That is correct. In 18 seasons before Dirk Nowitzki, the Mavericks were, on average, 32-50. In the first 18 years of his career, that number transformed to 52-30. The sports world increasingly relies on “With Or Without You” stats (WOWY) and this one is pretty clear. With him, the Mavericks were always in the mix. Without him, they seldom were. He carried them. In fact, he built them and then carried them. Find me another athlete in sports who was able to transform a franchise to that extent and for that amount of time. This is what separates him from the others on Mount DFW. It wasn’t necessarily about personal achievements, although he can do that all day if you wish. It is about finding a figure who can prop up a completely doomed organization. Postseason play is a perpetual reality with him and barely a fantasy without him. No disrespect to the Cowboys on this list, but with the number of legends that franchise has produced, we could argue that the team’s history would still be pretty great even with the subtraction of any one of them. How big is Staubach without Lilly and friends dragging them to the level when Roger joined up? How great is Aikman if not with Emmitt and Irvin? But if you subtract Dirk from the Mavericks, what is left?

Let’s not forget the postseason achievements during his run. The Mavericks claimed 15 postseason berths in 16 years and a phenomenal 13 series wins, which included two Western Conference Finals wins and the big one, the 2011 NBA Finals.

Dirk embodies the Mavericks. Across all aspects, he defines the franchise and comprehends the depth of that role. Loyalty and concessions—these are values he comprehends. In sickness and in health, he exemplifies the elements that illustrate the interdependent bond among a city, a franchise, and an athlete. Just when professional sports seemed to be learning that such a notion was nonexistent, Dirk firmly stood his ground, asserting its existence. Why? Was it due to his birthplace or a sense of obligation? Not at all. It was simply intrinsic to his character. He was characterized by gratitude, an understanding of setbacks, and an unwavering determination to persevere.

So, at the risk of carrying on and giving you just another piece of Dirk writing, let me try to tell you about my five favorite Dirk photos that I have forever on my desktop and a few that are on the wall in my office.

Everyone chill the F- out. I got this.

The aforementioned photo captures moments from the runs during the 2011 playoffs, a period when Twitter was in its youthful and uninhibited phase. Tough times would rear their head, often leading to bouts of depression. If you haven't endured a 60-day NBA playoff journey to the Finals, you haven't experienced a 3% reduction in your lifespan. Dark periods inevitably emerge, especially when facing significant 4th Quarter deficits, a recurring scenario in that memorable run. During those trying moments, someone would share this image, and it strikes a chord with me. It reveals his playful side, yet also underscores his ability to swiftly transition into a focused and fiercely competitive mindset when provoked.

Don't be misled by his amiable demeanor; if you assume he's a pushover just because he's affable, rest assured, he's not. He possesses the heart of a true champion, a fact he demonstrated time and again when the odds were against him. From encounters in Portland to battles in Los Angeles, Oklahoma City, and Miami, the road battles revolved around entrusting him with the ball and stepping aside. To put it figuratively, he carried the team on his shoulders. Dirk was leading us back to victory.

Game 2 of the NBA Finals, 3-point dagger.

Again from that piece:

This was the final dagger in that vital Game 2 win. Just look at that follow-through and the thousands of hours in the gym, hoisting a million shots to get to that one moment in time. It was his. Then look at all the terrified Miami fans who knew that shot was good. The legendary shot first required one of the many comebacks in that playoff run because the Mavericks were down 15 with 7:13 to play after Dwyane Wade hit a 3-pointer and struck a pose in front of the Dallas bench. Miami would only get one more hoop through the rest of the game, and Dallas would go on a remarkable 22-5 run to finish it out. Down the stretch, Dirk turned the game by hitting all four of his shots in the final three minutes. With the game tied 90-90, this shot pictured above silenced the Miami arena with such brilliant defiance that the building seemed empty.

Brian Cardinal will never forget that shot. “For Dirk to have the nuts to take that shot and to knock it down was just remarkable,” he said. “The whole bench was holding each other back, and when he knocked it down it was pandemonium on our bench, as the arena is motionless. The range of emotions was just unreal.”

Game 4, Dirk at the free-throw line and ready to attack.

I love this picture so much. Dirk is looking at the game clock and the shot clock at the other end of the arena with Udonis Haslem on his hip. This is the flu game, when he played with a fever of 102 degrees. He played poorly but courageously for much of the night. He was a mess, coughing and wheezing throughout. He was seen shivering during timeouts.

But Dirk did what he always would do down the stretch of Game 4 when the Mavericks needed him most. He was awesome through adversity on this night, the same night Lebron James scored all of eight points in his personal battle with Jason Terry. He scored 10 of his 21 in the fourth quarter, and one of the most critical moments would happen about eight seconds after this photo was snapped. This moment could determine his title dream either way. He would spin for yet another drive. In Game 2, it was with the left hand. In Game 4, it was a finish with his right hand.

This was the moment it became clear the Mavs were not going to go quietly into the night. They lost and then answered in Miami. They then lost and answered again in Dallas. Every time they were punched, they punched back harder. It was now 2-2, and the series was turning because Dallas was growing in confidence and tactics, while the newly formed Heat saw far more questions than answers. Their frustration and doubt were the only things growing.

Alle Traume Klingen Verruckt. Bis Sie Wahr Werden.

This was a Nike version of the mural back in Germany. It always chokes me up.

For years and years, people told us this man could never reach the top and win a title. The fact he did on his own terms without ever taking a shortcut in a sport where shortcuts are now commonplace makes it all that much better. I will never forget seeing a photograph of a huge Nike mural in Germany after the title, with Nowitzki raising his hands in victory. The caption was written in German: “Alle Traume Klingen Verruckt. Bis Sie Wahr Werden.” I think the translation is perfect for anyone who ever dared to dream about Dirk and the Mavericks finally having their day in the sun if everything ever broke right:

“All dreams sound crazy. Until they become true.”

This dream came true.

And finally, one that shows Dirk the human.

“I owe you a hundo!”

Dirk's intrigue with our radio show - The Bob and Dan Show - dates back to his earliest days, driven by our fervent fascination with him during the nascent stages of our show and his career. Once a year, he would join us for a segment initially slated for 15 minutes, which subsequently extended to well over an hour. Regardless of his elevated status, he maintained this annual tradition. On a few occasions, he was slightly influenced by his wine consumption, often stopping by after the season concluded and before he embarked on a flight back to Germany. Many of these instances occurred during seasons that didn't culminate in a championship parade.

He was interested in my love of soccer. He knew I loved Liverpool and I knew he was a Bayern Munich guy. He would follow his German friends when they joined Premier League teams, like when Arsenal had quite a few at the same time.

Well, in 2019, Liverpool played Bayern in the Champions League. As we would do, we DM’d before the match. This time Dirk was ready to put some cash down for his side.

Sadio Mane could not be stopped that day and Liverpool went into Munich and won, 3-1.

Dirk still owes me a hundo.

I was never going to collect on that debt. But, I did want him to sign a picture of Dirk, Bob, and my best buddy Dan, for me unlike any picture he had ever signed. So he delivered. He signed an “I owe you” to me and it hangs on my wall to this day.

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I am as biased as they come with this guy. He is being honored again tomorrow and we might now be out of honors with him. But, he is worth them all.

So, let me end this piece the way I ended it in 2019:

These were the reasons for the bond between this city and this man. Other men may hit tough shots in big games. But will anyone ever love the city back and never want to leave it, even though he was from the other side of the globe?

This is not to say that others on this list aren’t remarkable as well. But I know we will never see anyone like Dirk Nowitzki again. And I feel privileged to have witnessed the entire ride from a relatively close vicinity.

We should all feel privileged to have him represent our town like he has. He played 21 seasons with all his heart, gave us every ounce his body had to give, brought us a title we will never forget and conducted himself in a way that is more than worthy of the statue they will soon build.

There is only one Dirk Nowitzki. He is the most impactful athlete this city will ever know.

Only one.