irk Nowitzki could not see or hear LeBron James, Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh boisterously and pre-maturely posing, preening and celebrating on a laser-filled, smoke-lit stage surrounded by the deafening cheers of thousands of fans last July.

All Dirk could sense last summer was the sound of the basketball pounding against the hardwood floor, swishing through the net time and time again in the gym.

While sometimes forgotten, it is no secret that Dirk to was a part of last summers legendary free-agent class. And it is no secret that he declined to take his talents anywhere – not even south beach – but the gym, resigning with Dallas before all the hoopla began.

So while James, Wade and Bosh were soaking up the limelight, the accentuated and unprecedented attention once again Thursday night, Nowitzki knew exactly what had to be done, exactly what he had been doing all summer.

Working towards erasing yet another post-season demon.

While Wade and James claimed that their over-the-top, premature celebration was no more than a part of the game, Nowitzki feels no need to rely on emotion – posing, preening and celebrating – to galvanize and inspire his game, but the steely essence – the resolution – that comes with tens of thousands of hours of shooting, the muscle memory of the biggest shots in the biggest moments.

All his life, Nowitzki was the nice guy, the guy that was good, but too soft and too quiet.

The guy that would forever come close and forever be remembered as one of the Hall of Fame players without the ultimate validation of victory – a championship.

Maybe a Barkley or a Ewing , but never a Jordan or a Bird.

After absorbing every blow from Wade and James, Dirk has the Mavs still standing and still swinging.

There were 24.5 seconds remaining on the clock and to no surprise, Dirk found the ball in his hands once again – he had scored seven consecutive points for the Mavericks in just over a minute – with everybody knowing he was taking the last shot.

This time, though, it was Dirk dancing, dancing and foisting to the rim around Chris Bosh for the game-winning basket – a difficult left-handed layup heightened by a freshly torn tendon in his index finger – with a mere three seconds remaining on the clock.

Dirk’s eighth and ninth consecutive points helped complete one of the most improbable and indelible comebacks in NBA Finals history.

By summoning a deep-rooted and vigorous resolve, the scoreboard read a mind-boggling Dallas 95, Miami 93.

Suddenly, the NBA Finals have become a series again. Suddenly, the Mavericks are alive and most importantly, in control.

It is undeniable that the Heat have constructed an unmistakable invincibility about themselves, a dominating persona throughout these playoffs.

All it has done is intoxicate them with hubris.

It’s time to sober up.

The Mavericks have watched from afar all season long and throughout these playoffs as teams – perennial powers such as the Boston Celtics and Chicago Bulls – have become humiliated at the hands of the Heat’s suffocating attack.

“There’s no way we’re going out like this!” Jason Terry barked to the Mavericks huddle after Dwayne Wade posed, taunted and traded punches with LeBron James in front of the Mavericks bench after nailing what appeared to be a dagger of a three point shot with seven minutes to play.

“I don’t think it’s an issue,” LeBron James said.

It wasn’t, at the time.

The Heat were up 15 and Miami city planners were preparing yet another party for the soon-to-be champs.

(Insert needle-coming-off-record sound bite here)

Seven minutes later, Nowitzki rolled to the rim, elegantly laid the ball over Chris Bosh’s flailing arms and off the glass.

Dirk rejoices after putting the Mavericks up 95-93 with 3.4 seconds to play in game 2.

Everyone paused for a moment, a forever moment that changed everything about this series.

These NBA Finals will no longer be a more appropriate term for a coronation.

Just as had happened last July, the Heat were caught celebrating too soon, too arrogantly.

“Don’t make nothing out of that celebration like you guys did in the Boston series,” Wade said.

Truth be told, and given the magnitude of the situation, the celebration was relatively tame by NBA standards.

However, this isn’t the standard situation. These are not the 2006 Dallas Mavericks that let Dwayne Wade punk and embarrass them.

“We’ve got a lot of guys on their last legs,” Tyson Chandler said as he rejoiced in the visiting locker room Tuesday night.

Dallas has proved to be a team built on pride and character. With comebacks unmatched by anybody in these playoffs – down 12 at Portland, down 16 at Los Angeles and down 15 at Oklahoma City – the mantra on this team is now: you get up on the Mavericks, stick a knife through their heart, not mock them.

Instead, Miami’s levitated hubris, their disregard for the struggle that becoming a champion is, has let Dallas rise up from the dead out of their graveyard court, the same court that has haunted the franchise for five years.

They say perception is reality, and the price paid for Miami’s premature notion of being crowned champs came with a harsh reality – the reality that they had just blown a monumental opportunity – and now must face a three-game grind in Dallas in order to return home to Biscayne Bay with title – and party – aspirations.

Hopefully, for Miami’s sake, they can see that.