Who is Dallas' GOAT: The Cowboys - Or Mavs Dirk Nowitzki?

We can always look at his No. 41, but we'll probably never see another Dirk Nowitzki.

DALLAS - All you need to verify the greatness of Dirk Werner Nowitzki will be on display Wednesday night at American Airlines Center.

In what we’ll see. And what we won't.

On a night every 13-year-old dribbler dreams of, but only a handful of 43-year-olds get to experience, Dirk will reluctantly absorb the amped-up adulation from adoring fans via sheepish nods and subtle hand waves. He'll gaze up - maybe even with a hint of a tear - at his No. 41 retired to the rafters. He'll then take his Hall-of-Fame career and freshly minted Dallas Mavericks' immortality and quietly go home. 

He was even a bit teary-eyed at his Wednesday media meeting at the AAC, especially when reflecting on the lives he’s touched. … and how he can’t play anymore.

“I wish, I wish,” he said wistfully.

As throughout his unprecedented 21-year career in Dallas, Dirk was a metronome mix of marvelousness and modesty. Not once did he cause a fuss, prompt a spectacle or even remotely desire to be the center of attention. Never in his humble life, saturated with integrity, has Dirk stepped on a basketball court - in or out of uniform - with the intent to hog the ball, much less the glory.

Nowitzki is not only a superior player and person, he’s the greatest athlete in the history of Dallas-Fort Worth. That’s right, the DFW GOAT.

Dirk is firmly cemented – and soon canonized with the coming bronze statue he recently posed for in a season with the Chicago-based sculptor – above and beyond our all-time local heroes: the iconic head coach, the Hall-of-Fame pitchers and catchers, the prolific American-born goal scorer, the record-holding running back and the Super Bowl tacklers and passers. His combination of individual accomplishment, team success, unique humility, flawless citizenship, dogged philanthropy, unprecedented longevity and unwavering loyalty makes him the best, most consequential figure ever in Metroplex sports.

We can start with his resume.

In his first three decades he won a Most Valuable Player, a championship, NBA Finals MVP, 3-point shooting contest, 14 All-Star appearances, 15 playoff berths and, did we mention beating LeBron James and Dwyane Wade for the title in 2011? 

Dirk is one of the NBA’s best players of all-time. The only player to record 31,000 points, 10,000 rebounds, 3,000 assists, 1,000 steals, 1,000 blocks and 1,000 3-pointers.

He's No. 6 on the scoring list, behind only Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Karl Malone, LeBron, Kobe Bryant and Michael Jordan.

But Dirk’s immortal allure is deeper than numbers. He is substance over style. His only off-court drama was when he was the victim, guilty merely of blind love to a devious fiancée.

Typical Dirk: He even alluded to this in the presser, saying the incident made him “grow into the man he needed to become.”

Through hard work and diligent preparation, he avoided major injury. And he deflected criticism, turning the other cheek to everyone mispronouncing his name (it’s no-WIT-ski, because that’s how he pronounces it), David West’s playoff tap in 2008 and those “soft” catcalls he gloriously shredded in Miami.

While critics fixated on how Nowitzki didn’t guard, he evolved offensively until he was simply unguardable. In doing so, he revolutionized the game for 7-footers and invented a new position – the “stretch four” – for a 120-year-old sport.

Despite playing with teammates that scored in the wrong basket (Samaki Walker), missed practice by oversleeping in a car that temporarily doubled as their home (Delonte West), distributed birthday party fliers immediately after a playoff loss (Josh Howard) and served as chalk-outline fodder in seemingly every NBA dunking poster (Shawn Bradley), Dirk never – even in the name of “passion” – complained. 

Dirk never demanded a trade. Never whined for more touches. Never slipped off to Cabo before a playoff series. It was is version of taunting was to hit a crucial shot and stick his tongue out at no one in particular.

He deserves our GOAT distinction because he both made the right plays and did things the right way. Multiple times throughout his career he turned down piles of money in free agency to remain in Dallas. In his final season, he came off the bench because it was best for the team.

That’s really it. Even having checked every damn box on his bucket list, Dirk was too loyal to retire on top and too in love to quit in shame. He played until he couldn't play any longer, because his DNA consists of half talent, half tryhard.

Dirk is our Kobe Bryant, our Derek Jeter and our Eli Manning. Our German-imported, yet home-grown superstar.

Being honored as GOAT comes with his own street, his No. 41 retired and, eventually, a statue taller than the Dallas zoo’s giraffe, shinier than Deep Ellum’s Traveling Man and more relevant than those that stand guard at area golf courses (Byron Nelson), football stadiums (Tom Landry) and baseball parks (Nolan Ryan).

Not that his dribble-drive to becoming DFW’s non-American Idol didn’t have its share of air balls.

The missed, front-rimmed free throw in Game 3 of the 2006 NBA Finals that turned the series to the hated Miami Heat. The woeful 2-of-13 shooting performance in Game 6 of the shocking 2007 first-round loss to the Golden State Warriors, when he was MVP and his team was the West’s No. 1 seed. Being duped by then-fiancée Cristal Taylor in 2008. The horrendous rendition of “We Are The Champions” on the balcony of the AAC in 2011.

But for a guy whose achievements will need extra Hall-of-Fame closet space in Springfield, his transgressions fit in granny’s sewing thimble. As impressive as the minimal hiccups were Dirk’s subdued, therapeutic reactions to adversity.

After the 2006 loss to the Heat, he backpacked through Australia with long-time mentor Holger Geschwindner. After the upset loss to the Warriors, he showed up to accept his MVP trophy and tearfully said, “As time passes, I’ll look back on this as a very special day. But right now, it sucks.” 

He’s so private, that after his relationship drama initially surfaced, we said, “Wait, Dirk has a girlfriend?”

“Like I always have, I want to keep my private life private,” Dirk said at the time. “I’m not a fancy player and I’m a shy person. I’m the one usually looking to sneak out a side door to avoid the spotlight.”

For one last deserving night at AAC, Dirk's exits are locked and his spotlight is bright.

When we watched him step off the plane from Germany and show off his skills at the Baylor-Tom Landry Center after being drafted in June 1998, we weren’t sure he would score 32 points in the NBA. Much less 32,000. 

Neither was he.

In Germany, his first love was tennis, followed by handball. But it was Geschwindner, the former German Olympic team guard, that noticed Dirk’s rare combination of size and athleticism and took him under his quirky basketball wing. At his gym he affectionately calls the “Institute of Applied Nonsense,” Holger taught Dirk hoops and health through non-traditional activities such as rowing, yoga and freelance dribbling to the sound of saxophone-infused jazz.

Only experience, however, could teach Dirk confidence.

As a teenager he always believed he was more Robin than Batman, hence the poster of Chicago Bulls sidekick Scottie Pippen – and not superstar Jordan – on his bedroom wall.

His first afternoon in Dallas he carried his own luggage, packed with minimal self-assurance.

“I’m not sure if I belong here,” Dirk said that day. “I hope I do someday. I guess we’ll see.”

With the help of Mavs coach Don Nelson and Holger, he evolved, matured and grew up before our very eyes. At first he was constantly homesick, and fretted over not knowing how to use a microwave or ATM.

Dirk survived all sorts of questionable fashion phases: the gold hoop earring, feathered bangs, shaved head, scraggly beard, mullet complete with headband, the works. He ignored critics who said he was too soft to win, but nonetheless proved them wrong by constantly adapting.

From ‘No-WIN-zki,’ to ‘No-QUIT-zki.’

With no vertical jump, Dirk compensated by adding the slap-down strip-and-steal as a defensive go-to. Offensively, he tweaked his left hand into a reliable finish, perfected the escape dribble and maintained uncanny shooting accuracy.

He improved after friend and future two-time MVP Steve Nash left Dallas. He thrived under the diverse coaching styles of Nelson, Avery Johnson and Rick Carlisle, perfecting both the pick-and-roll in half-court sets and the transition 3-pointer in more up-tempo flows.

Within 10 years he was a perennial All-Star and one of the game’s most high-productivity, low-maintenance players. Dirk dropped 50 on the Suns in a playoff game, made all 24 free throws in a playoff win over the Oklahoma City Thunder and thoroughly outplayed James in the 2011 Finals, averaging 26 points and 10 rebounds to his 17-8.

After his lefty layup sealed the Game 6 win over the Heat and proved karma is indeed a hoops junkie, Dirk could have retired as a legend on the spot. But just a couple months after his private locker-room celebration in the closing seconds, he was back to work with Holger adding to his tool box.

“Talent is only 20 percent of this,” he said. “Willpower is 80 percent. When I stop wanting to improve, I’ll hang ’em up.”

Not that he was ever outwardly fiery, but in retirement Dirk is much more the genteel German.

He’s aged sophisticatedly from beer to red wine and now he’s a family man, married to Kenyan-Swedish wife, Jessica, and raising three children – Max, Malaika and Morris. While the NBA still venerates those with games above the rim and egos off the charts, he remains feet planted firmly on the ground.

“He’s the same Dirk I’ve always known,” Geschwindner said last Fall. “Much richer, but still the same Dirk.”

Dirk's popular refrain, “Thankfully, I was raised the right way,”

In music, there is Willie. In cycling, there is Lance. In appetizers, there is Queso.

In DFW sports, there is Dirk.

Just Dirk.

With an unprecedented combination of successful performance and staying power, he’s risen above his local one-name peers. His humility will prompt him to sheepishly shrug this off, but Dirk’s better than, well, everyone. Better than Pudge. Better than Nolan and Young. Better than Byron and Hogan. Better than Doak. Better than Modano. Better than Landry and Lilly and Roger and Jerry and Troy and Emmitt.

He won more than Pudge, had far less help than Modano, recorded more playoff victories than Landry-Roger-Jerry-Troy-Emmitt combined, and boasts more longevity – and loyalty – than any other DFW player.

The only real debate? Which Metroplex icons will serve as Dirk’s wing men on our Mount Sportsmore.

Better than Pudge Rodriguez: Like Nowitzki, the Texas Rangers catcher won an MVP and made the Hall of Fame. But during 13 seasons in Arlington Pudge caught only one playoff win, before journeying to five other teams and winning his only championship in Miami. Pudge doesn’t have Dirk’s trophies, nor tenure.

Better than Nolan Ryan: Despite the fact the Rangers pitcher was knighted for a bloody bulldog headlock on Robin Ventura while Nowitzki merely returned to a playoff game after having his tooth knocked out by a Terry Porter elbow in 2001 against the Spurs, this isn’t even close. Nolan played for three other teams and went only 51-39 in five seasons in Arlington. His two no-hitters can’t touch Dirk’s sustained success, which included 15 playoff berths in 16 years.

Better than Michael Young: The face of the Rangers for 13 seasons, for most of his career he was a great player on some awful teams. Young played defense (Gold Glove), offense (American League batting champ), made two World Series and won an award that always escaped Nowitzki (All-Star Game MVP). But when making comparisons of the best versus the best, the margins can be thinner than Kristaps Porzingis. Dirk is more loyal, and therefore, better than Young because the Ranger left Texas at the end of his career to play for the Philadelphia Phillies and Los Angeles Dodgers, slightly tarnishing his otherwise pristine legacy. Dirk stayed in Dallas, for 21 seasons.

Better than Mike Modano: The Dallas Stars scoring machine won more playoff games (74) than Nowitzki (70), led his team to its only championship and landed in the Hall of Fame. But Modano never sniffed an MVP, was assisted in 1999 by three other Hall of Famers – Brett Hull, Ed Belfour and Joe Nieuwendyk – and finished his career playing a season for the rival Detroit Red Wings. The only Hall-of-Fame help on Dirk’s title team came from 37-year-old, shadow-of-himself Jason Kidd, and he’d never consider playing for a fierce foe such as the Spurs or Heat. In fact, in signing five contract extensions in Dallas he never as much as took a single free-agent trip.

Better than Byron Nelson: The legendary golfer won an unfathomable 11 consecutive tournaments in 1945 and has a tournament and even a local high school named after him. While Byron’s humanitarian legacy is incomparable, he never won The British Open to complete his Grand Slam and retired at 34 after only 15 years on the tour. Nowitzki’s resume has no blanks. He played longer, and his philanthropic works include the Heroes Foundation, charitable tennis tournaments and his annual – off-the-grid – visits to Children’s Medical Center as Dallas’ tallest Santa.

Better than Ben Hogan: DFW’s most accomplished individual athlete, Fort Worth-bred Hogan won 64 golf tournaments over 41 years including nine majors, fourth-most all-time. Despite a near-fatal car accident, he was golf’s player of the year four times. They are both credited with near-perfect strokes – Dirk’s shot and Ben’s swing. But Nowitzki’s better than Hogan because, well, he’s a better person. While he has always been approachable and affable, Hogan was a surly, harsh introvert that refused to give co-Hall of Famer Gary Player swing advice because he didn’t play Hogan’s brand of clubs.

Better than Doak Walker: The iconic running back starred at Highland Park High School and SMU and is the namesake of one of college football’s most prestigious awards. Good as he was, Doak won his two NFL Championships in Detroit with the Lions. Dirk’s fairy tale could be edited so that he was born in Waxahachie instead of Wurzburg, but that’s just being nitpicky.

Better than Tom Landry: Given his record 29 years, 20 consecutive winning seasons, five Super Bowl appearances and impeccable morality, ranking the former Dallas Cowboys coach behind anyone feels blasphemous. But, then again, he did wear a hat, not a helmet. Dirk’s more directly responsible for the Mavs’ success than Landry for the Cowboys’.

Better than Bob Lilly: “Mr. Cowboy” was the first draft pick in franchise history. A menacing tackle that anchored the famed “Doomsday Defense” for 14 seasons, he won a Super Bowl, made 11 Pro Bowls and now lives in both the Ring of Honor and Hall of Fame. Dirk’s advantage over Lilly is that the Cowboy rarely (aside from one career interception, 18 fumble recoveries and three touchdowns) touched the ball. Nowitzki played longer, and at such an elite level that most nights he was the best player on the court and for a long stretch even the best player in the world.

Better than Roger Staubach: America’s quarterback won a Heisman, served in the Navy, won an MVP, two Super Bowls and wound up in the Hall of Fame. Dirk’s advantages: Roger played with six Hall of Famers compared to his two (Kidd and Nash), lasted only 11 seasons and no longer leads his franchise in any major passing category. Roger threw passes to Bob Hayes and Drew Pearson. Nowitzki caught passes from J.J. Barea and Jason Terry.

Better than Jerry Jones: The Hall-of-Fame owner won three Super Bowls and built one of America’s premier sports venues in AT&T Stadium. In almost 30 years, however, Jerry has only witnessed 15 playoff wins and he’ll never redact his firing of Landry or parting with Jimmy Johnson. Nowitzki’s loyalty to Geschwindner never wavered, even when he had to bail him out of jail when he was accused of tax evasion in Germany.

Better than Troy Aikman: The Cowboys quarterback began his Hall-of-Fame career 11-1 in the playoffs and won three Super Bowls and a Super Bowl MVP. But we can argue that Troy was never even the best player on his own team, something Dirk was most of 20 years. While Troy doesn’t crack the Top 30 in major all-time NFL passing statistics, Nowitzki remains in the Top 5 in almost every NBA shooting category.

Better than Emmitt Smith: Tough to shove aside a guy whose Hall-of-Fame career includes three Super Bowls, a Super Bowl MVP, an NFL MVP, four rushing titles and gaping leads - still - in all-time rushing yards and rushing touchdowns. But the image of Dirk in an enemy uniform – like Emmitt as an Arizona Cardinal for his final two seasons and 357 carries – is something that will never cheapen his legacy of loyalty. During his “hometown discounts” in contract negotiations, Dirk sacrificed almost $200 million to remain in Dallas and build the best team possible around him. In 2010, he directly left $16 million on the table. His reasoning: “My heart’s here in Dallas. It always will be.”

End. Of. Discussion.

Dirk’s better – and he’s achieved his singular ID – by being more blah than bling. He’s the idol bound to idiosyncrasies, like storing his mouthpiece inside his sock and incessantly tugging at the NBA logo on the upper left of his uniform. He’s the selfless superstar that never needed nicknames or an entourage or signature shoes or anything other than life as a gym rat. Heavy on private workouts; light on public self-promotion.

He'll be heralded locally Wednesday night one more time as a Top-10 NBA player with only Too-100 NBA popularity.

Because he refreshingly never got the big head, we’re going to immortalize his noggin' in bronze. Or cast iron. Maybe marble. We’re thinking of Dirk falling back, launching the iconic one-legged, signature shot – The "Flamingo Fadeaway".

He wishes to keep the statue’s look “a surprise,” he said.

Unblockable. Unstoppable. Unforgettable.

Like Byron in Las Colinas, Hogan at the Colonial, Nolan in center field and Landry outside AT&T Stadium, Dirk’s jersey - and soon, his effigy - at AAC will be perpetually poised to overlook the Mavs into the continually murky future without him.

“Honestly, I’ve always thought it was a little bit silly,” he said during “The Perfect Shot,” a German-produced documentary about his life. “I’m good at throwing a ball into a basket, mostly because I’m tall. But there are so many people who are good at so many things. Me getting all this attention and praise just makes me uncomfortable. It’s actually embarrassing.”

And there you have it.

Why is Dirk the deserving GOAT of DFW? Because he’s living, legendary proof that nice guys don’t always finish last.