"Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!"

For the first time in several seasons, or honestly, since the year that ended in the Golden State meltdown (and obviously, that year was tainted by the sting of a very recent Finals loss), I enter the Mavs' season with true exuberance. Even with the Cowboys and Texans both winning this Sunday, my mind kept wondering the open space reserved for this year's Mavs' memories.

It's hard to place exactly what it is, but this year's team has something that's been lacking in the recent past. Is it the smiles spilling from the eyes of players' in their interviews? Is it the infusion of talent and athleticism? Does it come down to something as simple as the players' body language. Is it the hint of a possible new, higher level of on the court chemistry brought on by a soundly constructed roster (we'll choose to overlook the center position for the moment)?

Yes, and no.

All of those things are subtly tugging at a thread dangling from the curtains of my fandom, trying to reveal a vast stage sure to unleash bountiful wonders and amazing feats of acrobatic accomplishment. But, there's something else as well.

For the first time in many summers, the team I follow, the Mavs, clearly got better on paper. Yes, they lost Bass, but they gained so much more. And yes, other top tier teams got better as well. But, that's for another day, because on the eve of the season opener, it is all about my team.

With the dawning of a another season, comes another delivery of unabashed hope. Today, anything is possible. The winds could stir, and the giants in our way could stumble, or our own sails could fill with enough strength to lift us beyond their reach. Today, there is only tomorrow, and tomorrow has yet to be defined.

Like Ralphie praying for that "Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!" in A Christmas Story, I'm all hope. Even as everyone warns me that I'll shoot my eye out, as the Lakers threaten to put their boot in my face and send me on my way down that red slide into, "there's always next year", my hope stands bold and untarnished.

For today, there is nothing else. No fact can crush my hope. There is no chance to catch my parents (David Stern) putting out tomorrow's gift (I hope). This is Christmas Eve, and regardless of how outrageous my gift requests have been, Santa hasn't said no to anything yet.

Instead, I hear the hooves touching down, see the shadows of 9 reindeer and a full sleigh folding down my roof and dancing in the glow of my neighbors decorative lights over my snow kissed lawn....and I know if I just wait a little longer, there's a chance, no matter how slight, that Santa carries with him exactly what I hope for.

I just hope I can sleep tonight.