On Sunday, the NBA world absorbed the bombshell reports of a trade that would send All-Star guard Kyrie Irving to the Dallas Mavericks. Irving, who had been with the Brooklyn Nets since 2019, is one of the league’s top talents—and also one of its most, uh, mercurial personalities. He’s prone to embracing conspiracy theories, he seems to believe that whatever he sees on YouTube or Instagram is the gospel truth, and he has some, er, curious ideas about everything from COVID-19 vaccines to the shape of the Earth to—well, to whether a Hitler-referencing film called Hebrews to Negroes: Wake Up Black America is an accurate history of the Jewish people. 

In other words, he will probably be happier in Texas than in New York. 

Following a suspension from the Nets earlier this season, Irving has walked back some of the more offensive ideas he’s put out into the world. And the Mavs, in discussing their decision to acquire the superstar, have argued that the team’s “culture and environment” will assist Irving in thriving on and off the court. (If you say it in the right tone of voice, it doesn’t even sound that ominous!) Regardless of whether the Mavs, only a few years removed from allegations that the organization mishandled sexual assault allegations in the workplace, are the ideal franchise to help Irving rehabilitate his image, the high-scoring guard is moving to Dallas this week. Here are some suggestions for how he might choose to spend his time in Texas. 

Visiting Dealey Plaza to discover who really shot Kennedy

One of the more quaint conspiracy theories Irving has embraced involves the Kennedy assassination. JFK theories are a pretty soft on-ramp to conspiracyland, since, uh, millions of Americans agree that the official story behind the president’s 1963 murder is pretty weird. Accordingly, Irving’s stance on JFK isn’t particularly out-there—he told an NBA podcast in 2017 that he believed Kennedy was killed because of opposition to the Federal Reserve. That’s . . . probably not what happened, but as far as conspiracy theories go, this one is relatively gentle.  

One thing we do know is that if Irving wants to get to the bottom of things, then Dallas is the place to be. Will he spend his afternoons in Dealey Plaza, tracing the angles from the Texas School Book Depository to the grassy knoll, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that Lee Harvey Oswald couldn’t have fired the fatal round? Will he join a cult awaiting the dead president’s son’s miraculous return? Why not? We expect Irving to make lots of new friends in Dallas. 

Looking for the edge of the flat Earth in Big Bend

In Texas, Irving will be well situated to pursue another of his most exciting avocations: proving the Earth is actually flat! How could this possibly be true? Let’s not get into that. Here’s what Irving had to say on that same 2017 podcast: “This is not even a conspiracy theory. The Earth is flat. The Earth is flat. . . . It’s right in front of our faces. I’m telling you, it’s right in front of our faces. They lie to us.” 

The logical question to the claim that the Earth is flat, of course, is, Where does it actually, like, end? To which we will provide Irving with a tantalizing clue—consider taking some time to explore Big Bend National Park, nestled between Terlingua and the Mexican state of Chihuahua. Now, you may be asking: How is it possible that the edge of the flat Earth would be bounded by a famed base camp and a state with nearly four million residents? To which we respond: Wake up, sheeple! If the Earth is flat, it has to end somewhere, and the stunning landscapes of Big Bend surely look like they’ve got something to hide. All we’re missing is an explorer intrepid enough to find the truth. The NBA off-season is short, but if Irving applies himself, we’re sure he can do some digging (but not actual digging, because disturbing the park’s natural features is illegal). 

Guest hosting The Alex Jones Show

Milling about Dealey Plaza talking to Kennedy cult members is nominally a social activity, while searching for Earth’s edge in Big Bend is mostly a solo one. That’s all well and good, but Kyrie Irving did not spend all of that time watching Instagram reels full of nonsense to keep what he’s learned to himself. Where does an attention-hungry, incredibly famous conspiracy theorist looking for a platform in Texas go? 

The answer should be obvious: he drives three hours south on Interstate 35, exits on Oltorf, makes a left on South Lamar, and drives to the InfoWars studio. There are few things that Alex Jones loves more than hosting famous visitors, so we have no doubt Irving would be welcomed with the widest-open arms, while Mavs fans would white-knuckle their way through the appearance, hoping Irving doesn’t say anything to warrant a fresh suspension from the league. It’ll be a real high-wire act!

Opening his heart by striking up a friendship with Kinky Friedman 

Many of Irving’s conspiracy theories have been relatively innocuous. It doesn’t matter why he thinks Kennedy was killed or what shape he thinks our planet Earth is. But Irving’s endorsement of antisemitic conspiracy theories is more troubling: anyone with a platform the size of Irving’s who spreads those ideas puts Jewish people in danger, and the threat of antisemitic violence is real, as folks in North Texas learned last year. 

But Irving’s move to Texas could provide an opportunity for growth, if he were to befriend one of the state’s true originals: self-proclaimed “Texas Jewboy” Kinky Friedman. Friedman’s own identity as a straight-talking, cigar-smoking Jewish cowboy could help Irving understand that the stereotypes he’s absorbed on YouTube are just that, and the two would definitely have some fun conversations about Jack Ruby. Is it Kinky Friedman’s job to help Irving overcome the prejudices he seems to have acquired? Not really, but Friedman’s always been an open-minded guy, and we suspect he’d enjoy the chance to offer some guidance to a professional athlete nearly fifty years his junior. 

In any case, Irving is coming to Texas regardless of what we have to say about it. Here’s hoping that he finds a moderating influence—whether it comes in the form of an irascible Jewish cowboy or a night spent gazing into the night sky at Big Bend.