"Jason Kidd grabbed that championship trophy, and finally, all those 17 battle-scarred seasons from Dallas to Phoenix to New Jersey to Dallas again, had their validation. He'd forever been the picture of composure on the court, the heady point guard always looking ahead for the next play, the next passing lane, and in that moment, in the din of celebration late Sunday, teammates pressing around him, trophy in his arms, Jason Kidd looked lost.

"It's not real right now," he'd later say, and who could blame him. This second act, this renaissance, wasn't supposed to happen. Not at age 38, not when so many of his peers had long ago left the game. The NBA had been turned over to Chris Paul and Deron Williams, Derrick Rose and Russell Westbrook, those of the younger legs and fleet feet. He'd had his two cracks at a championship, and missed.

Through it all, Kidd never stopped grinding, and this is part of his brilliance. Eyes wide, shoulders squared, he's forever rushing the ball up the court, searching for the next opportunity. This season, he found it amongst a motley collection of Dallas Mavericks. He looked around the locker room at all these veterans, not a single title among them, and proclaimed something that would continue to resonate in the months ahead.

"This team could be special."

These Mavericks grew into a championship team because Kidd helped Dirk Nowitzki make them so. Three seasons earlier, Mavs owner Mark Cuban had gambled a talented young point guard, Devin Harris, and two first-round draft picks to pull Kidd from the rubble of the New Jersey Nets. Cuban knew that Kidd could serve as a guide for Nowitzki, help him lead in ways he never had. Even at Kidd's age, he could still manage a game as well as anyone in the league.

"Do you think we won that trade yet?" Cuban barked early Monday morning. He's long been sensitive to the criticism he absorbed for giving up so much for his aging point guard. When Kidd arrived, Avery Johnson was still coaching the Mavericks, and Johnson's heavy-handedness on the sideline stifled Kidd. The Mavs lost in the first round to the New Orleans Hornets that season, and Johnson paid with his job. Harris became an All-Star in New Jersey. The vitriol followed.

Still, Kidd learned something in those first seasons back in Dallas. He'd have to reinvent himself, remake his game to fit well with Nowitzki and Jason Terry. He'd become one of the greatest point guards ever, and yet he couldn't shoot. "Ason" Kidd they called him because he had no "J." Kidd reconstructed his shot with help from Nowitzki, and the transformation has been stunning. He's become one of the league's more dependable 3-point shooters the past couple seasons. His son T.J., an eighth-grader now, even mimics Nowitzki's mannerisms and shooting stroke."