Sadly, I don't know that we honestly should have expected anything other than a mishap that's just as inexplicable as it was innocent for one of the most under-appreciated stars in the history of basketball. Granted, he's brought a lot of the recent disregard on himself by repeatedly taking the NBA equivalent of peanuts in return for his continued loyalty towards an irrelevant organization in order to keep it's owner from having an existential crisis. Still, milestone night or not, you better make damn sure you put all of his consonants in order after all that Dirk has done for the Dallas Mavericks organization. Hell, accidentally mixing in a red shirt with the white jerseys and coming out of the tunnel looking like it's breast cancer awareness month would be easier to explain than going dyslexic with the stitching of the last name that will be in the rafters with the championship banner he made possible sooner than later. I don't care if the equipment manager was on a time crunch. Using duct tape and a Sharpie to identify every other person on the roster would have been more understandable than failing to prioritize the one German spelling that's more important than every remaining Mavericks game combined. Simply put, 50,000 minutes spent revolutionizing a position is about 40,000 minutes more than should be required to demand some respect be put on a name as accomplished as that of Dirk Nowitzki.
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