Important note-disclosure: Credit for the inspiration, rhyme scheme, cadence and stanza strategy belongs to the late, great Ernest L. Thayer, poet-sportswriter who composed the immortal "Casey At The Bat," which reportedly first saw print in 1888.



By Cathy Harasta,

Dallas freelance sports journalist



"Cuban At The Helm"

(With apologies to "Casey At The Bat")





The big cigar that Nellie smoked

Was Cuban Thursday night,

When Golden State looked oh-so-great

And Dallas had no fight.



The Oracle exploded when

The Mavericks bit the dust.

The big palooka ended up

The NBA's big bust.



"Guard him, guard Nowitzki,"

Hollered someone in the stands.

But no one had to guard him

When the ball was in Dirk's hands.



Each time he held the basketball

And when he let it fly,

The rim would shrink to match the girth

Of just a needle's eye.



The biggest "big" was Baron D.

In a series fraught with bile.

But he had help from Dallas

And its lack-of-effort style.



And how 'bout Stephen Jackson

Scoring like Wilt Chamberlain?

And Big D fans knew then and there

The Mavs would fail again.



But the all-star goat was Cuban

Who had prodded Nellie's core

With swipes about the Nelson fade

In post-seasons of yore.



Dirk's MVP award slid south

When the Warriors proved for real.

The Mavs' demise was Cubanized,

And the team just sealed the deal.



Should Avery have suited up

To run the point himself?

Then would Big D still be alive

And not upon the shelf?



A 25-point loss is all

That Big D has to cheer

When football doesn't start again

For one-third of a year.



Across the vast North Texas plains

The Friday dawn was bleak.

But, somewhere, footballs spiraled

And the talk was Romo-Speak.



"There's justice in the NBA!"

The Cuban-haters shout.

But there is no joy in Dallas,

Dirk Nowitzki has crapped out.



_ Cathy Harasta