booty eaters — basketball_team 🇺🇸

5 members · TeamBranch

Season Journal

Standings

Pre-season

Ladies and gentlemen, good evening and welcome to what is probably going to be the most electric night of this season. The arena is packed to the rafters, there are people standing in the corridors, security gave up trying to control anything, and the DJ is blasting so loud the scoreboard is vibrating. We are here to talk about a legendary franchise. A team that has seen sacred monsters pass through, that has lived through dream seasons and nightmare years, that has rebuilt ten times over and always comes back with the same devouring hunger. Ladies and gentlemen... Booty eaters! Listen, I've watched hundreds of players come and go in my broadcasting career, but Anakin Skywalker is something else entirely. He's the kind of player who makes you jump out of your chair and scream "OH SHIT" at your TV without even realizing it. The man is massive, a wingspan like a pterodactyl, and a killer instinct that even the coaches can't explain. This man feels the game. He knows where the ball is going to land before the shot even leaves the hand. He reads passes like he's reading minds. At this level, it's not basketball anymore, it's straight-up sorcery. The scary thing is that the more pressure rises, the more he rises with it. Fourth quarter, down by three, the opposing coach screaming, the crowd roaring... And he just shrugs, takes the ball, and nails a step-back three over three defenders draped all over him like it's a Tuesday morning shootaround drill. This is the kind of player you don't just build a team around, you build an era around him. And tonight, that era begins. Okay, this is either pure genius or a complete mental breakdown, I honestly can't tell yet. The wild card, the stroke of brilliance or insanity depending on how many beers you've had, is that the coach decided to pull a move never before seen in league history: he signed Jesus Christ, his brother-in-law and a messiah by trade, on a ten-day contract. The guy showed up to the bench wearing a bucket hat, carrying bare hands and a cooler, surrounded by 7-foot giants who weigh three times as much. Apparently the coach's theory is that if Jesus Christ can place a basketball with the same precision he uses for the game to "bullseye" the opposing center's head, we've got the play of the century. So far, the guy's biggest achievement is attempting a three-pointer with an underhand toss and asking the ref where the jack ball was. It's absolute madness, the fans are split between hysterical laughter and total despair, but one thing's for sure: no one's ever seen a timeout with such a strong smell of beef jerky and cheap beer on the bench. The budget? What budget? We're so far below the salary floor you could limbo under it blindfolded. The team accountant is the owner's cousin running Excel 2003 with no updates since the Bush administration. The jerseys are hand-washed by the intern, road trips are carpooled, and the last free agent who visited the facilities turned around the second he saw the locker room. But you know what? Character is forged in the struggle. And this team's got character coming out of its damn ears.

booty eaters finishes #16 (2W-13L). Better luck next season! MVP: Anakin Skywalker.