Owner-to-be is fun, funky

By Kevin B. Blackistone / The Dallas Morning News<br><br>There was a message on the home answering service. It was an informal invitation to what was described as an informal pre-game get-together. <br><br>The

Friday, January 7th 2000, 12:00 am

By: News On 6

By Kevin B. Blackistone / The Dallas Morning News

There was a message on the home answering service. It was an informal invitation to what was described as an informal pre-game get-together.

The fellow left his home number and his work number. And his e-mail. He said he hoped I could make it.

The only team owner from whom I remember ever receiving such a call was the co-investor in my fantasy football squad. And unlike the owner-in-waiting of the Dallas Mavericks did on Thursday, he didn't pick up the tab.

Only time will tell whether Mark Cuban is the best or worst owner the local pro basketball team has ever had. There is no question, however, that the 41-year-old guy who made a billion in the Internet business with something called Broadcast.com will be the most fun.

That's easy to say given the fellow who Cuban just bought the Mavericks from and the guy who founded them. Ross Perot Jr., despite being born in '58, rarely was seen out of collar and tie and most often carried himself as if he was born in '08. And I think Mavericks' founder, the squeaky clean Donald Carter, actually was.

At the final Mavericks home game of the century two Thursdays ago, Cuban sat in his floor seats dressed in what for him has been described as everyday attire: a T-shirt, jeans and a baseball cap pulled down low on his brow. He was considerably more dapper for his debut as future owner: a dark sweater, dark slacks and dark dress shoes.

Before the lousiest team of the last decade in all of pro sports lost Thursday to Utah, 105-92, the fellow who's expected to pay upwards of $200 million for it was up on his feet cheering them on. When 7-6 Shawn Bradley had his shot blocked by 6-9 Karl Malone late in the first quarter, Cuban shook his head, muttered in disgust and drowned his displeasure with a swig. When Bradley moments later made a shot, Cuban was back on his feet punching the air with a fist.

And when Bradley got a technical foul after arguing with an official that Malone elbowed him in the face, Cuban was up on his feet screaming at the nearest guy in black-and-white stripes. Kind of like Jazz owner Larry Miller might do from his court-side seat in Salt Lake City.

About the only thing Thursday that suggested Cuban was no longer just another billionaire ticket owner on the floor was the security guard seated behind him. He was there to keep at bay the fans who tried to come by and give the exuberant next owner a pat on the shoulder. In the last millennium, no one had Cuban's back.

With a cool haircut, even though it reminds of the Hulk, and all the enthusiasm of the kid who finds a new Nintendo game under the Christmas tree, Cuban won't remind of your father's sports team owner. Cuban is, in a word, funky.

Since it became official that he was buying the Mavericks, Cuban spent time on his computer actually answering e-mails from fans into the wee hours of the morning. He was so excited, he said, he just couldn't sleep. He even popped on a message board to do the same.

He doesn't see anything wrong with being himself just because he's worth a gazillion and just bought into one of the most-exclusive country clubs around.

"I want it to be fun," Cuban said of owning the Mavericks.

Cuban does, however, have a little of yesteryear in him. He made it clear that he didn't buy the Mavericks in hopes of making another cool billion. He insisted he didn't buy them because of the real estate development possibilities as did Perot, although he'll wind up with some stake in the new arena.

Cuban said he bought the Mavericks for the same reasons a lot of the rich guys bought teams way back when. He bought them because he wanted to and he could. He picked them up as if the team was the most-outlandish gift for sale in the Neiman-Marcus holiday catalog. v He bought the Mavericks as a toy.

"It's my passion," Cuban explained of basketball. "Something that's your passion is what you do best at."

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the proof. It was his wrinkled ducat for admittance to Thursday's game.

The Mavericks just got bought by one of us - a fan.