The time was May 3, 2011 and the place was some LA watering hole, no doubt selected by Eddie Sefko. In a gathering of Dallas sports media types, I pronounced between Games 1 and 2 of the Mavericks’ second-round series with the Lakers — one we were certain the defending champs would win — that Dirk Nowitzki was the Pudge Rodriguez of the Mavericks.
An All-Star year after year. Adored by local fans. A guy with a unique skill set. Never going to win a championship here.
In other words, six weeks later as Dirk was hugging the Finals MVP trophy, it had gone the way of so many of my proud predictions. I didn’t mean any harm by it. After all, Dirk and I had taken the stage at the same time.
(OK, I’m the only human who viewed it this way, but the Mavericks drafted Nowitzki in the summer of ‘98, the same time The News elevated me to sports columnist. So whenever I would hear the Mavs arena announcer say something like, “In his 17th year … Dirk Nowitzki!” I would be the only person in the AAC thinking, “Wow, I’ve been writing columns for 17 years and they still haven’t pulled the plug.”)
It’s 25 years now, and after playing what is almost certain to be an unmatched 21 straight for the Mavericks, Nowitzki got his totally expected Hall of Fame induction. Watching his perfect-tone speech and reading about the weekend wonderfully chronicled by Brad Townsend, it made me realize that there are no other Dirks and have not been for this last quarter of a century. He is the most beloved Dallas/Fort Worth athlete of this era — deservedly so — and any time you can wrestle that title away from a Dallas Cowboy, you’re accomplishing something special.
Can Luka Doncic one day match Nowitzki on this level? I don’t think so. He might be a better player and he could even win a pair of MVP awards. But unless he captures a title with the Mavs and rides out his entire career here — the betting odds have to be against both right now — then his story, no matter how many achievements, won’t capture Dallas’ hearts in the same fashion. For one thing, he may have to stop whining at officials when he reaches adulthood.
To stand on the same plateau with Dirk, a player needs to win an MVP, a championship and spend his entire career with one team. If that doesn’t sound like much, think again.
The only Cowboys player to win an MVP award was Emmitt Smith in 1993. With an all-time rushing total that may last forever, he’s in a special class. Oh, but why did he have to spend two seasons in an Arizona Cardinals uniform, padding those stats after Dallas (mostly Bill Parcells) had lost interest?
I would put Mike Modano in a very similar class to Dirk’s. He never won a league MVP, but he set club scoring records and was as much the face of the Dallas Stars for 16 years as Dirk was for those two decades with the Mavs. But Modano wandered off to chase a ring with the Detroit Red Wings — basically the equivalent of Dirk closing out his career as a Laker. On top of that, Modano’s falling out with Stars’ management has made him a Scottsdale/Minnesota resident with his days in Dallas long behind him.
No one else in the Stars’ organization is likely to come close. Jamie Benn may have a decade as captain under his belt, but where Modano tirelessly promoted the team to help the new game in town, Benn’s calculated indifference towards anyone outside his locker room hardly places him in the “beloved” category.
The Pudge comparison, of course, was valid for the catcher’s 10 All-Star seasons with the Rangers. But the man won a World Series in Florida, competed for another title with Detroit and, in all, played more than 1,000 games for other teams. Beloved here, yes, but hardly someone who managed to serve as a Ranger for life.
Michael Young was almost an All-Star fixture here but, of course, never grabbed that ring and wound up a National Leaguer in his final days. Mostly that franchise has been led by outsiders who passed through, whether it’s Josh Hamilton and Adrian Beltre from that era, or Corey Seager and Max Scherzer trying to grab a ring in 2023.
As for the Cowboys, I don’t see Dak Prescott ascending to Dirk’s level. There’s a greater chance that a Super Bowl ring is in his future than a league MVP honor. As for staying here 15 to 20 years? Is Jerry Jones willing to pay him a billion dollars?
Micah Parsons would be the player I would choose as the most likely Dirk of the future. After just two pro seasons, he’s part of every discussion of “best defensive player in the league.” Who’s to say voters won’t grow weary of giving the guy with 5,000 yards passing the MVP one year? But we are just starting down that road, and this team (and player) have much to accomplish before any relevant lifetime discussions can be framed on their behalf.
The beauty of Dirk, a kid from Germany who embraced Dallas with open arms as if he had discovered nirvana, was his constant willingness to be self-deprecating. He preferred laughing at himself to talking about his greatness. On a radio show a few years back when my co-host Steve Dennis mentioned he was at his debut in Seattle in 1999, Dirk said, “Oh, what did you think? How did you like those two points?’’
The first two weren’t so special. The 31,558 that followed as a Dallas Maverick made him one of a kind across all sports for the last 25 years. The next Dirk is surely worth waiting for, but he’s unidentifiable at this time.
This story, originally published in The Dallas Morning News, is reprinted as part of a collaborative partnership between The Dallas Morning News and Texas Metro News. The partnership seeks to boost coverage of Dallas’ communities of color, particularly in southern Dallas.
