“He was Supposed to have a Statue”: On Luka Doncic, Iconoclasm, and Archetypal Significance of Sports
An Examination of the Religious Dimensions of Sports Through the Story of a Franchise Player's Departure
It’s been several months since the Dallas Mavericks traded away their franchise player, Luka Doncic, in what is being regarded as one of the worst—if not the worst—trades in NBA history. Dallas fans staged protests outside the arena, with some even bringing a coffin to the stadium to signify the death of the franchise. Fans who called for the General Manager to be fired were kicked out of basketball games, and the Mavericks’ ownership issued harsh rules to crack down on dissent amongst the fans. The season from hell continued as we watched almost every player on the team suffer injuries, and the team fell into disarray. In response, the ownership increased the price of season tickets.
As a lifelong Dallas Mavericks fan, this last season was absolutely devastating. I was furious with the leadership, which is a sentiment that has been felt by almost every Mavericks fan I’ve encountered. It was not simply that they traded away our franchise player, who was a top 5 player in the league and led us to the NBA finals last year. It wasn’t just that we didn’t get a good enough return in the trade, which has been graded as an ‘F’ by almost all analysts. By trading Luka in the dead of night and subsequently bashing his character and skill set with unbridled gaslighting, over-exaggerations, and lies, the Mavericks betrayed who they were as a sports community. The egotistical will of the GM and owners backstabbed an entire community and city.
On the surface, the fans protesting about some guys who make too much money by putting a ball through a hoop can seem like an overreaction. After all, whether Luka plays for the Dallas Mavericks or the Los Angeles Lakers is a trivial matter compared to more important issues like the deportation of immigrants or the fiasco of the American healthcare system.
Though I do agree that healthcare is more important than basketball and that we ought to prioritize those conversations over sports, a complete dismissal of the importance of sports is possibly rooted in a failure to understand the spiritual significance of sports. In my opinion, the manner in which the Dallas Mavericks have betrayed both Luka and the fan base shines light on the religious dimensions of sports in general.
Collective Effervescence
Collective effervescence is a term coined by sociologist Émile Durkheim to describe the intense energy and sense of unity people experience when they come together in a group around a shared purpose, emotion, or ritual. This phenomenon often occurs during religious ceremonies, festivals, protests, or concerts—any setting where individuals feel swept up in a larger-than-self experience. In these moments, personal identities can seem to dissolve into a powerful collective consciousness, reinforcing social bonds and shared values. Durkheim argued that such experiences are crucial for maintaining social cohesion, renewing a community’s sense of the sacred, and affirming its collective identity.
In sports, this phenomenon can manifest in those instances when thousands of fans collectively experience intense emotions during games, such as cheering together, grieving together, celebrating together, etc. The stadium becomes a space where individual identities temporarily become part of a collective consciousness. This collective experience is particularly powerful in sports because it transcends normal social boundaries. Whether you're a CEO or a janitor, when your team scores the winning point, you're hugging and high-fiving complete strangers. The shared euphoria creates a temporary but profound sense of community and belonging.
The Hero Archetype
Within a sense of collective effervescence, certain archetypes and mythologies emerge that seek to embody the community’s sense of identity. Sports are no different, as fans regularly draw upon archetypes and mythologies when discussing the game. Phrases such as “the basketball gods are on our side” are common to hear whilst watching a game or discussing a team. In some sense, we ought to take such references seriously. Now, I am not saying that “basketball gods” exist in the same way that trees, butterflies, and people exist—and neither in the same way that God (with a capital G) exists. Rather, the ‘basketball gods’ exist as hyperobjects of the collective psyche and material conditions that create greater agencies as a whole than of their manifold parts. In other words, they exist not as literal deities, but as larger-than-life projections: symbols formed by the collective psyche and material conditions that shape our perception of destiny and justice in the game. (For a longer discussion on this topic, you can read my article here about Santa Claus).
The grand narratives of sports—especially in those ‘legendary’ moments of truly great achievement—are talked about with the same awe as the great myths of various cultures and religions. For instance, after the 2011 Dallas Mavericks pulled off the greatest NBA finals run in history, securing a championship as the underdogs and defeating many of the greatest players in basketball history, a viral video circulated in which a fan compared the victory to Star Wars. From a literary and narrative perspective, Star Wars is deeply saturated in mythology and archetypes, with George Lucas deliberately modeling his characters on Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey.” We can see how easily the actual history of the NBA finals run can be grafted onto narratives of deep archetypal resonance.
In the context of sports, star athletes often take on a type of hero archetype as a collective projection of a community’s identity. This hero archetype manifests in players who become more than just athletes, transcending into a space of living symbols that instantiate communal values and aspirations. When a player consistently demonstrates excellence, leadership, and commitment to their community, they transcend their role as mere entertainers to become cultural icons who embody the collective identity and values of their fan base. This is particularly evident in how certain athletes become permanently associated with their cities, like how Dirk Nowitzki became synonymous with Dallas basketball culture (well, until the mutiny wrought by the GM and the ownership). I remember back when the Mavericks won their first championship, and a common sentiment was not just that we fans wanted to win a championship for the team, though that was certainly true. We also wanted to win a champion for Dirk himself out of recognition and appreciation for all that he had given to the community. Seeing Dirk hold the Finals MVP trophy was a moment of honoring all that Dirk, both as a person and an archetype, had given to the Mavericks.
Additionally, this is why it’s important for athletes to be helpers and leaders in their community. Because of their archetypal role, they foster aspirations for who we as a community can become. Though I don’t think that the responsibility of all matters pertaining to social justice ought to rest upon the backs of people who shoot basketballs for a living, I still think it’s wonderful when they support their local communities and stand up for matters of justice. When LeBron James wore a t-shirt calling for racial justice while he was warming up for a game, some commentators were angry and told him to “shut up and dribble.” However, because star athletes embody the hero archetype for the collective effervescence of a community, the “shut up and dribble” critique doesn’t work. It completely misunderstands the archetypal role such athletes play within the community, and subsequently, the moral importance of standing up for what’s right.
The “shut up and dribble” mentality essentially views athletes and sports as nothing more than a role of “score points to make money.” But again, this completely misses the archetypal, proto-religious, and mythological dynamics at the heart of sports. For some time, many Dallas Mavericks fans remained exceptionally loyal to the Mavericks because we felt like they understood this role.
The ‘mere commodities for profit’ attitude sees athletes merely as entertainers and commodities rather than as embodiments of communal values and aspirations. When the Mavericks traded Luka, they demonstrated this reductionist mindset, treating him as just another asset rather than recognizing his deeper significance to the community (or actually making a trip to the finals). In doing so, they violated the trust between a team and its fan base. Dirk was more than Dirk. He was the embodiment of a collective communal identity as well as a symbol for what the Mavericks community longs to be. This is why we have a statue of him outside the stadium. The Mavericks community does not want to just be another ‘win at all costs for the sake of making money for the business’ type of team. We long to exemplify values like loyalty, honor, dignity, and perseverance. We aspire to build something bigger than just winning games. We want to create a legacy of mutual respect between players, management, and fans. Unfortunately, executives in the organization have betrayed that.
“He was supposed to have a statue!”
That was the popular phrase famously uttered by a fan being interviewed the day after the trade had been announced, and an impromptu protest/vigil took place outside the Mavericks’ arena. Many took it on as a statement of protest, with some fans even buying billboards in the Dallas area to make their message heard.
The phrase illustrates why the Luka trade was not just a trade. It was an iconoclasm, like desecrating an icon. Perhaps that sounds idolatrous or sacrilegious, and I don’t wish to necessarily equate a sports athlete with a Saint. But functionally, the trade has struck some type of quasi-religious—and by that I mean archetype and mythological—chord within the Mavericks community. That’s why the trade felt deeply personal. It was not merely a trade—it was a self-betrayal of our identity as a sports community. A general manager who is drunk on his own ego and an owner, who obviously does not understand basketball, betrayed our hero. In this sense, they are traitors to the collective identity of the Mavericks community.
The betrayal of Luka was a betrayal of this collective spirit and what we aspired to be as a community. When management treated him as merely a commodity to be traded, going so far as to even insult his character and physical appearance, they didn't just lose a player—they fractured the bond that makes sports meaningful beyond the court. This violation of trust threatens to erode one of the few remaining spaces in our society where genuine community can flourish across ideological lines.
Sports is perhaps one of the last places where people of different political and ideological commitments can actually come together and befriend one another. I love that I can just have fun making new buddies at a sports game as we cheer on our favorite team, and none of us has to worry about the others’ political ideology. Just having fun with some strangers over something we both love. But this trade feels like a betrayal of that love, executed unilaterally by the general manager and owners. It is a small representation of the worst psychic forces operating in our culture today.
Eucatastrophe
J. R.R. Tolkien coined the term "eucatastrophe" to describe a sudden turn of events that prevents disaster and results in joy. In his essay "On Fairy-Stories," he defined it as "the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous 'turn'... a sudden and miraculous grace... giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy." For Tolkien, eucatastrophe was more than just a happy ending—it represented a fundamental truth about the nature of reality, where even in the darkest moments, hope could unexpectedly emerge. If the story is not of the tragedy genre, then typically, an eucatastrophic element elevates a story into the realm of mythological, spiritual, or religious significance. It looks like Darth Vader is going to shoot down Luke’s spaceship and prevent him from destroying the Death Star, but suddenly, Han Solo returns and shoots Darth Vader. In The Lord of the Rings, when all hope seems lost at Helm's Deep, Gandalf appears at dawn with reinforcements, turning the tide of battle. In the Bible, Jesus is crucified, but then he is resurrected. We could go on and on with examples from cultures around the world, spanning both mythology and empirical history.
The element of eucatastrophe intensifies the religious or quasi-religious dimensions of the game. It manifests in those miraculous comeback victories, last-second game-winners, and unexpected championship runs that seem to defy all odds. These moments transcend mere athletic achievements to become powerful symbols of hope and redemption. They remind us that even in seemingly hopeless situations, transformation and triumph remain possible.
The Mavericks had a bit of their own eucatastrophe this year. After the season from hell, and as the team is still stuck under corrupt management, the team landed the number 1 pick in the draft with only 2% odds. As a result, the Mavericks will most likely draft Cooper Flagg, a phenomenal player who is one of the top NBA prospects of this generation. This has led to many allegations that the NBA rigged the draft, possibly being a consolation for some insider trading orchestrated by the NBA to get Luka on the Lakers to help international viewership. Others have objected to the outcome more on principle: the Mavericks organization should not be given the number 1 draft pick after backstabbing Luka, their fanbase, and many others within the organization. It amounts to rewarding their corrupt behavior.
Nonetheless, from the fan’s perspective, the potential of receiving Cooper Flagg has rekindled hope for the future. The Mavericks would still be a competitive team next year, but the window to be competitive was about 2-3 years, if that, given the age and injuries of the team’s players. And, of course, they need to fire their General Manager and sell to a new owner. However, Cooper Flagg allows the Mavericks to have a long-term vision, with someone to build around in the years to come. But of course, that’s assuming Cooper Flagg lives up to his potential and, more importantly, that the Mavericks actually draft him.
(Also, as a lifelong Duke Blue Devils fan and Duke alum, I am ecstatic at the possibility of having a starting lineup of three former Duke stars: Kyrie Irving, Derek Lively, and Cooper Flagg.)
To bring in another Tolkien reference, the situation is somewhat like Gondor in The Return of the King. Gondor was under corrupt leadership with Denethor refusing to act rationally and even trying to actively kill Faramir. Likewise, he refused to acknowledge the rightful rulership of Aragorn. The situation seemed incredibly bleak, but then, despite the corruption of Denethor, the Rohan army arrived and helped save the day. The Mavericks receiving Cooper Flagg despite the corruption of our executives is like Gondor being saved by Rohan despite the ineptitude of Denethor. One can only hope that things pan out well.
Even if Cooper lives up to his hype and becomes a generational talent, I will miss Luka dearly, and nothing will justify the trade that happened and how the ownership betrayed him. But if eucatastrophe can teach us anything, it’s that villains can be defeated, so hopefully the headlines will someday emerge that the Mavericks have a new general manager and new ownership.
Concluding Thoughts
As we have explored throughout this essay, sports are not merely games—they are vessels for communal identity, mythological narratives, and archetypal significance. When teams and management forget this deeper meaning, treating players as mere commodities and fans as mere consumers, they betray the sacred trust that makes sports meaningful beyond the court. It seems to me that the challenge going forward will be to reclaim and preserve these deeper dimensions of sports culture, even as commercial pressures threaten to reduce everything to mere entertainment and profit. At least as viewers, or even those of us who are athletes, we can protect ourselves from mere commodification and start connecting with the deeper spirit of sports.