My phone buzzed, a text from my wife. I didn’t look at it immediately, but when I finally got around to it my heart hurt. It was a photo of my oldest son when he was much smaller. The feeling of nostalgia was suddenly overwhelming.
If you’ve ever seen Mad Men, in the episode The Wheel, Don Draper describes the Greek translation of nostalgia as “pain from an old wound.” The pain was sharp and real and today, it’s lingered. A variation of this pain has been on my mind in some way for months.
The photo was of my son, using block letters to spell the name of his favorite basketball player: Luka.
I couldn’t be more excited for the Dallas Mavericks to draft Cooper Flagg. He’s a special talent, perhaps generational. His defensive instincts are sublime, and if you believe the experts about his offensive game, he’s evolving at a frightening rate for someone that’s just 18 and won’t turn 19 until this December.
This isn’t about the future and I want… no that’s not right… I need you to understand that I am still angry about the trade which sent Luka Dončić to the Los Angeles Lakers. I am still angry and Nico Harrison must be fired. I’ve written on this before, heck most of our site has and will again I’m sure. But I cannot move on.
It’s not something I can simply sluff off because Dončić and the past means something to me and the way that past has been treated by the management of the Dallas Mavericks infuriates me. This isn’t another “Fire Nico” column for the sake of it. Every day someone, in one shape or form, tells me to move on, shut up, or find a new team. But I can’t. The source of that pain is still with the Dallas Mavericks no matter how hard they try to hide it. I advocate supporting the team while demanding Harrison get his just deserts.
The Mavericks are a part of my identity. My family moved to Dallas in the mid-90’s and I followed the team but I didn’t truly lock in until the epic comeback against the Utah Jazz when the Mavericks rallied back down 0-2 to win a best-of-five first-round series in 2001.
I watched the grand opening and grand closing of the mythical silver uniforms from a bar in Santa Monica in 2003. I talked my girlfriend (who would eventually become by wife) into watching TNT Mavericks games with me in 2004. We watched the 2006 NBA Finals collapse by the Mavericks in her uncle’s basement. We watched the Mavericks finally triumph in 2011 in our tiny 400-square-foot apartment.
I held my new son in 2016 as we watched Dirk Nowitzki put up a throwback 40-point performance against the Blazers. That same child asked if we could go shoot baskets when I told him I was sad about Dirk finally retiring. We screamed in shock and awe as Dončić defeated the Clippers in Game 3 of their first round matchup in 2020 on a step-back three. My son and I hugged as Dončić sent the Timberwolves packing in Game 5 of the Western Conference Finals last year. He cried when Celtics defeated Dallas in five games in the NBA Finals just a few weeks later. And he cried again as my wife tried to explain to him that Dončić had been traded in the dead of night for reasons which will never make sense to me, let alone a kid.
That last one is as fresh in my mind as if it happened yesterday, and I won’t forgive that.
The Mavericks are a part of the fiber of who I am. This doesn’t even mention the decade and a half of writing things here. You’d think my credentials would be clear, but still, decades into this, there are still plenty who question simply because I’m grieving in a specific way.
There's needs be a cut-off date on nauseatingly repetitive articles about firing Nico. If you have nothing new to offer-Find a new shtick.
— Brian Cuban (@bcuban) May 13, 2025
Sports are both intensely personal and collective. Firing Nico Harrison isn’t a shtick. He hurt us, he hurt my kid — why should I, or anyone, be expected to move on? How can I move on from seven years of photos, videos, and memories? The memories hurt for more than fact that time in life has come and gone, but because a rogue employee with no real connection to this city, the team, and its history sullied them by refusing to communicate and find common ground with a generational superstar.
Trying to wait out this storm is stupid and everyone associated with the Dallas Mavericks knows it. Harrison can’t be trusted with the future. Dallas getting improbably, unprecedentedly lucky in the NBA Draft Lottery is not a reason to forgive him. The Mavericks will draft Cooper Flagg because Harrison’s plan failed so catastrophically, not because he’s shown some merit in being right. He already failed the franchise and the city and giving him a chance to further damage the foundation of the house he burned down is maddening. Dallas has a chance to get this right and start over. That is what Flagg represents.
The Mavericks should be thrilled to end up with the No. 1 pick. I certainly am. My second son is just about the age my first was when Dallas drafted Doncic. Hopefully, Flagg becomes a part of my family’s life the way Doncic has. I’m always a Mavs fan, but the organization will have a cloud over it until Harrison is gone. It’s past time to Fire Nico, fully turn the page, heal the wounds to our franchise, and allow fans like me to believe the Mavericks won’t make our second son cry, at least not by trading away his future favorite player.