I hate birthdays, namely my own, but this one is right up there.

One minute, you’ve got a bouncing, baby Serbian boy. Three MVPs, a little facial hair and an NBA title later, and the sonuvagun is already 30.

For what it’s worth, happy birthday, Nikola Jokic. I guess.

Dammit.

While Nuggets fans across the globe are giddily falling all over themselves on social media to wish the world’s greatest basketball player a happy birthday, I’ll be crying in my beer.

Today should be celebrated. If not for today, there is no Nikola Jokic. There are no MVPs in Denver. There certainly isn’t a Larry O’Brien Trophy collecting dust on some shelf in Ball Arena. Hip, hip hooray for the birthday boy.

But, thirty is a dirty word in sports. In Denver, Colorado “thirty” might as well mean “hurry.” You hear that noise, Calvin Booth? No, it’s not Josh Kroenke singing “Happy Birthday,” not Stan the Man himself blowing out the candles. It’s the tik-tik-tik of a time bomb, the squeaking, creaking of a window oozing then cruising to closed.

If the Joker’s 30th birthday is anything, it should be a reminder that this little joy ride we’re all on won’t last forever. You draft a kid during a Taco Bell commercial; 10 years later you watch him turn 30; and in the not-so-distant future you’re hoping you can snag a ticket to opening night so you can send him off properly as his jersey is hoisted toward the rafters. In the blink of an eye, Jason Kosmicki, this thing is going to be ovahhh!

Better savor the flavor while we can.

I know, I’m doom and gloom. Maybe that’s too much. After all, Nikola Jokic is still the best player in the world (sorry, SGA, the latest straw poll is like a straw – it sucks). He’s worn that crown since he was 25 and – believe it or not – he’s better now than then. People like to say he doesn’t care about individual honors, and that might be true, but it’s clear he’s not just willingly handing over the hardware just yet. His baby face and ho-hum demeanor doesn’t change the fact his he’s got a death grip on what’s rightfully his, the title of “world’s best.”

Don’t be fooled, though, that’s not how it usually works. Thirty is the top of the slide for 99% of super athletes. LeBron James – like him or not – doesn’t grow on trees. The 40-year-old NBA All-Star is the extreme exception, not the rule. James has genes on par with only the gods; he’s fueled by an ego that’s unmatched. Nikola Jokic has neither of those two things. Thinking that Jokic will still be playing basketball – much less at James’ level – 10 years from now would be foolish. Thinking he’ll be doing it at 35, if you’re anyone in the Nuggets organization who has a say in the matter, is irresponsible.

Even the greatest eventually lose out to father time. James won his “real” titles at 28, 29 and 32. Michael Jordan won his at 28, 29 and 30, then 33, 34 and 35. Anything is possible, but again, those are the exceptions and not the rules. Both Jordan and James had help in winning, too. Magic Johnson’s last title run came at 29, as was Larry Bird’s.

In and of itself, there’s no shame in being 30, and plenty can still be done and won. In the case of Nikola Jokic, it’s a just another day. Tomorrow night, he’ll show the Hornets that he’s unstoppable at 30 and one day, just like he was a week ago against Portland at 29 years and 357 days. Age, as they say, is just a number,

But 30 had better be a strong reminder, too.

Just weeks before Jokic’s big day, at the NBA trade deadline to be exact, it was as if his team forgot to look at Facebook. Booth failed to realize that a milestone birthday was coming down the pike. No gifts for the big fella.

At next year’s trade deadline, which will be just a few days before Jokic’s 31st birthday, the Nuggets owe him twice the present. Not a piece of cake, but a piece of the puzzle. If the Nuggets don’t win an NBA title this season, there’s really no reason to even wait until then. They should be on the phone the second summer vacation begins.

Nobody else waits.

For their buddy Joker’s birthday, the Lakers went out and got Luka Doncic. The Warriors could be a little late to the party, but they’re bringing along Jimmy Butler. The young-and-gun Thunder, with an average roster age of 24.148 years old, are loving this raucous affair too much to even notice it’s anyone’s birthday. The Nuggets average 26.122 years of age all they way down the bench and the starting five averages out to 27 even.

This thing can get away from Booth and the Kroenkes quickly.

Jokic is a gift akin to somehow trading for Elway, somehow luring Manning. His career in Denver, particularly his prime, cannot be wasted.

To be fair, it hasn’t been; winning a title is something that’s never been done until the Joker laughed last. But the Bulls took advantage of employing the world’s best player when they had him; so did the Miami Heat.

Thirty can be dirty. Today in Denver, it should be more of a wakeup call than a celebration.

Just a friendly, birthday reminder: The clock is ticking, Nuggets.