Once upon a time, the Dallas Mavericks had Luka Doncic — a 26-year-old generational talent with the swagger of Dirk, the handle of Kyrie, and the soul of every heartbroken Mavs fan from the past two decades. Today? He’s a Laker. And the Mavericks are sitting in NBA purgatory wondering what the hell just happened.

Here’s the short version: Dallas traded Luka for Anthony Davis, Kyrie blew out his ACL, and the franchise responded by forcing their general manager to face the media in a closed-door, no-cameras-allowed PR session… before a Play-In game.

Here’s the longer (and messier) version — complete with corporate power moves, betrayal, media fireballs, and possibly one of the most questionable quotes in recent front-office history. Let’s begin.

So it’s the final week of the season. The Mavericks are on life support. The Lakers — with Luka now leading the charge — are cruising to a Pacific Division title. Fans are livid. The media are circling. And Dallas’ owner, Patrick Dumont, decides, you know what’ll fix this? A media roundtable with no cameras.

You read that right. No video. No live stream. Just Nico Harrison, Mavs GM, dropped into a media room like a sacrificial lamb. Bob Myers, sitting on ESPN, couldn’t believe it: “Why did they do this closed door? That didn’t sit well with anybody.”

And here’s where the twist comes in. According to Shams Charania, this media ambush wasn’t even Nico Harrison’s idea. “This was something that was enforced by their owner, Patrick Dumont,” Shams dropped.

Plot twist: The GM didn’t want the smoke — the owner handed him the flamethrower.

So Nico sits down, surrounded by media, no camera crew in sight, and gives what might go down as the worst PR line since “trust the process.” “We actually looked good when we were on the court together for two and a half quarters,” he said, referring to AD and Kyrie’s brief time as teammates before it all combusted.

Stephen A. Smith heard that line and just about fell out of his chair. “Two and a half quarters?! I’ve never, ever heard Nico say something that idiotic. Ever. You didn’t even say a game! Two and a half quarters! You can’t do that. But they did it because that’s what’s going on in Dallas right now.”

Even if Nico meant well, even if he was just trying to sell optimism — the NBA world doesn’t forget a quote like that. “Two and a Half Quarters” is already the new “we were on a break.”

Enter Stephen A. with the flamethrower on Nico

Stephen A. wasn’t done. Oh no. He went full scorched earth on the Mavericks’ ownership — and honestly, it was cathartic. “You can do what you want to do as an owner. You can also be called stupid for doing it. And that’s exactly what I’m calling Dallas Mavs ownership. Stupid.”

He mocked the no-camera policy like it was a Netflix comedy special. “The media don’t bring your cameras — even though that’s literally what media is. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard a franchise suggest.”

Stephen A. then pointed out the elephant in the room: The Lakers got Luka Doncic — a superstar entering his prime — and didn’t have to gut their future like the Knicks did for Mikal Bridges. “It’s bad enough you gave up a superstar six years younger. Bad enough you didn’t get any other assets. But now you’re banning cameras before a Play-In game?!”

You could almost see him foaming at the mouth.

While the media broke down trade math and franchise trajectory, Patrick Beverley showed up with a bat and just started swinging. “Dallas got fleeced,” he said on his podcast, straight-faced, zero hesitation. “Luka’s one of the best playoff players we’ve seen. The Lakers got Luka. They did their job. They’re contenders. Period.”

Sometimes it really is that simple.

The saddest part? Nico Harrison still took it on the chin. Like a pro. He went to that weird roundtable. He defended the trade. He said there were “no regrets.” He tried to find silver linings in a pile of flaming garbage.

But Bob Myers, who’s lived this life, could feel the dysfunction from across the table. “I think they were trying to repair some things. But the comments didn’t land. Owning a team, you get to do what you want. But I don’t think anyone in the Mavs organization could’ve foreseen this.”

Especially when your star point guard tears his ACL, your new big man got hurt again, and your fanbase has already made “two and a half quarters” into a meme.

Let’s be clear — this isn’t just a failed trade. It’s a crisis of leadership.

This wasn’t some midseason injury spiral or locker room drama gone unchecked. This was a top-down disaster class. Patrick Dumont walked in thinking this was “2K Franchise Mode” and tanked the vibes faster than Kyrie can hit a stepback three.

Nico was left holding the bag, Kyrie tried to make it work, and even AD limped along through it all. But when your owner starts meddling like he’s Pat Riley with none of the resume, what are you really supposed to do?

Bob Myers put it best: “In a situation like that, you’re trying to fix things. But when it comes from the top? You got no shot.”

So here we are. The Mavericks are limping into the Play-In. Their GM is repeating quotes from a pickup game like it’s gospel. Their star is in purple and gold. Their fans are lighting torches. And somewhere in a luxury suite, Patrick Dumont is probably thinking, “Hey, we actually looked good for two and a half quarters.”

Well, that’s one way to run a franchise.