My dream starting five — basketball_team 🇦🇺

Matchday 1 — vs Detroit Engine-Roar

85-129 (L)

Over the top of everybody. Palpatine to Spider-Man in the corner, wide open, catch and rise. Screened, toasted, done. Spider-Man is loose and the defense is scrambling to find him. Pull-up from the elbow by Spider-Man, halfway down, spinning inside the iron, and it pops right back out.

You want basketball IQ? Ask the player, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. The sith lord just froze a grown professional with a hesitation dribble. This man punches a clock and he is out here doing THAT. A cruel spin-out for the sith lord, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for Detroit Engine-Roar with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

The player makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. A full spin move through traffic from the adventurer! Whatever they teach in that trade, footwork is apparently part of it. Nobody expects touch like that from the adventurer, but that floater had more feel than half the starting guards in the league.

Fingertips! Optimus Prime gets just enough on it and the ball squirts loose. The adventurer just threw an outlet that traveled farther than most people commute. Absurd. Get that one framed. Godzilla took off from the block and the defender is still lying on the floor.

Back to the locker room. Spider-Man's shorts are torn but he couldn't care less. Juicy anecdote: Spider-Man was caught dancing the Macarena in the showers. Alone. And now, our halftime TV game show Backyard Survivor: Aisle Nine! To win a riding mower that will only turn left, text HOOPS to 555-0384 and answer this question: 'How many raccoons live at an average county fairgrounds?' Back at it! The players jog toward center court.

Detroit Engine-Roar again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

No hero ball here: Palpatine takes what the defense gives and moves it along. You can teach the jumper, you cannot teach the willingness, and Spider-Man gives up a decent shot every single time a better one exists. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! That was IN for Palpatine!

Dagger from Detroit Engine-Roar. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

Swing, swing, and Palpatine finds Spider-Man on the wing before the help can even turn its head. Read, screen, delivery, right on the money. A superhero making the right pass every single time, and the league is taking notes. Clang. Godzilla wants that one back.

More second chance points for Detroit Engine-Roar, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

The soldier gets whistled for the swipe. Forty honest hours a week and here he is, picking pockets in front of twenty thousand witnesses. He stays out there with five, which tells you how much this coach trusts Optimus Prime and how little he trusts anybody else.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Detroit Engine-Roar in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Somebody explain how the soldier reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. SPIN and GO! Palpatine pirouettes right through the traffic and comes out the other side clean! Up goes the shot from Palpatine and that is nothing but AIR, and every soul in this building saw it happen.

The player pulls out the crossover of his life, and Monday morning he clocks in like nothing ever happened. Somewhere there is a coaching video being edited right now, and the player is the star of it. Three steps and a prayer.

Clean feed from Palpatine, nothing forced, just the offense breathing. Beautiful footwork on that one from Godzilla, the pivot foot never budges, which is precisely why the whistle stays in the pocket. Two on the shot clock and the ball ends up with the player, which is how you get a twenty-eight footer off the wrong foot.

Doctor Doom scratches the back of his neck nervously. Spider-Man has the look of someone who has seen things. And here is the answer to our game Backyard Survivor: Aisle Nine! Roberta Klump of Pumpkin Center, Utah, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many raccoons live at an average county fairgrounds?' The answer was of course six during the day and considerably more after dark. Roberta takes home a riding mower that will only turn left! During the game, I counted how many times I said 'incredible.' Seventeen. A personal record. That's it. Up next: 'Anthony Bourdain Visits: The Park-and-Ride in Poughkeepsie.' Culture shock.

Matchday 2 — vs Miami Heart-Attack

104-114 (L)

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Miami Heart-Attack with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

Ball up the floor, change of speed right at the logo, and Optimus Prime already has the defense a full step behind. The sith lord reads the screen perfectly, comes off shoulder to shoulder, and buys himself an open look. Veteran movement, rookie resume. The big man never even contested it, and Palpatine still could not get the runner to drop. That one is on him.

Cold blooded from Miami Heart-Attack, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Optimus Prime stutters at the elbow, the defender bites on it, and now there is nothing but open floor between him and the rim. Three free throws for the soldier! That is the single most expensive mistake in basketball, and a person with a real day job just engineered it.

The help defender committed way too early, and Optimus Prime made him pay for it with a spin they will be replaying all week. OHHHH, the cylinder rejects the soldier! Somewhere a whole workplace just yelled at a television.

Break! Doctor Doom grabs an ice bag and slaps it on his knee. Fun fact: Doctor Doom was voted best-looking player on the team. By his mom. In a poll she created herself. And now, our halftime TV game show Are You Smarter Than a Mailbox! To win a paint-by-numbers kit of a barn, already painted wrong, text HOOPS to 555-0066 and answer this question: 'How many keys are on a high school janitor keyring?' Back on the court. The crowd greets them with a standing ovation.

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Godzilla breaks a shell down. Kick out to Optimus Prime, one more to Spider-Man, splash from the wing and this bench is on its feet. Rim out for Spider-Man, the crowd came up and sat right back down, and you can hear the groan from every corner of the arena.

Turnover, layup, Miami Heart-Attack straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Palpatine threw it before the help even committed. Two defenders collide on the handoff and Spider-Man is gone, so Godzilla earned that one even if the box score disagrees. Day job, then this: the superhero reads a rolling big like a coach with twenty years on the bench. Watch the footwork from Doctor Doom: one-two into the paint, no charge, feathery touch off the glass. Filthy craft.

Stone silence for one second, then Doctor Doom lets out something that is not really a word, more a sound from the basement of a human being. Godzilla answers with the same noise. The arena joins in. There is no language left in this building.

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Optimus Prime makes it every single trip down the floor. Off the pin-down comes the player with nobody inside a zip code. Somebody out there knows how to use a screen, and it is not who you would guess. So close. Godzilla can only stare at the iron.

You do not put the other team in the bonus this early. Optimus Prime has to be smarter than contact that never had a chance at the ball. Third whistle on Optimus Prime. He could argue the first two. This one he cannot.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Miami Heart-Attack, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

OHHHH the separation! Optimus Prime just manufactured three feet of daylight out of absolutely nothing. The soldier had two points in the bank and the iron took them right back out. You do not get heartbreak like that in the day job.

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and Optimus Prime drops it off to Palpatine on time and on target. Watch the eyes of that defender, he never turns his head once, and Palpatine makes him pay for the whole possession. Palpatine attacks the paint, absorbs the bump, twists his body all the way around the defender and reverses it in. FILTHY.

Straight to the logo at center court, Palpatine plants both feet and flexes until the veins show. The bench is a pile of bodies and airborne headbands. An assistant coach has to be physically restrained by a trainer who is also celebrating.

Optimus Prime gives it up to Palpatine on the move, the built-in screen erases the chase, and there is a clean runway to the rim. Down, up, and gone for Palpatine. The rim is just toying with him now.

Optimus Prime chews his nails on the bench. Godzilla stares at his shoes like they're the source of the problem. And here is the answer to our game Are You Smarter Than a Mailbox! Wanda Sue Beezley of Rooster Comb, South Dakota, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many keys are on a high school janitor keyring?' The answer was of course forty-one, and three of them open nothing at all. Wanda Sue takes home a paint-by-numbers kit of a barn, already painted wrong! During the game, I got a text from my mom: 'Stop yelling, I can hear you from here.' She lives 120 miles away. Good night! Up next: 'My 600-Lb Neighbor: He Makes Noise at 3 AM.' Shocking testimonies.

Matchday 3 — vs Orlando Magic-Beans

93-117 (L)

The referee tosses it high and Doctor Doom rises late, which is exactly how you win one of these. Timing over height, every single time.

Bucket for Orlando Magic-Beans. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Four on five while Doctor Doom lies there waiting on a whistle that is never coming. That is the real cost of the flop.

Watch the spacing, Optimus Prime drags two bodies toward the ball and Doctor Doom is standing alone behind the line. Geometry, not luck. Fifth possession this half where Doctor Doom has been left to bail everybody out with the clock at zero. He cannot keep doing this alone.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Orlando Magic-Beans, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

Break. Godzilla collapses next to the vending machine. Did you know? Godzilla once signed an autograph for a referee. During the game. Mid free-throw. And now, our halftime TV game show The Chase But Everyone Is Walking! To win a milk crate full of cassette tapes with no labels, text HOOPS to 555-0853 and answer this question: 'What is the record for most consecutive high fives that missed?' Break's over, the players take their positions.

The superhero fouled a shooter behind the arc. Three free throws, and a timeout that is going to be extremely unpleasant. Fourth foul on the superhero and he is headed for the bench. Longest break the man has had since he took that job.

More second chance points for Orlando Magic-Beans, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

The sith lord is parked under the rim while three grown men in stripes squint at a screen. Just another day at the office, apparently. Even the sith lord knows how to work a review. Hands up, palms out, best innocent face in the building, and it worked.

You want basketball IQ? Ask the sith lord, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. OHHHH that is filthy! Doctor Doom on the handoff and the man guarding it is still fighting over the top. That is the shot Spider-Man wants every trip down the floor, it drops nine nights out of ten, and tonight is the tenth.

Bodies everywhere in the paint and it does not matter one bit to Optimus Prime, one spin and the ball never leaves the string. BAAAANG! Optimus Prime from the logo, and the entire bench is on its feet losing its mind!

Off comes the headband, launched into the crowd like a rock star, and the fight for it delays the inbound. Optimus Prime watches two adults wrestle in row four. Half the arena is filming that instead of the game. Everybody in here has lost the plot.

Full stop, full sprint, and the soldier is in the paint! Nobody back at the workplace is going to believe this one. The ball skips around the perimeter, Palpatine finds the open man on the weak side, and Optimus Prime buries it.

Salute: sharp, military, held. Optimus Prime delivers it toward the loudest corner of the building and does not drop his hand until the noise starts to hurt. Godzilla snaps to attention beside him and the bench follows. Twelve saluting maniacs and a coach with his head in his hands.

Handoff, turn the corner, BUCKET! Optimus Prime did all the dirty work on that one. Two hands on the ball, then a fresh bounce. Somewhere a youth coach is watching the player and quietly turning off the TV.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for Orlando Magic-Beans with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

Bench energy is real currency over a long season, and Palpatine just handed his teammates a full bank account. PICKED HIS POCKET! Godzilla jumps the passing lane and he is GONE the other way!

Doctor Doom sits down on the hardwood, head on his knees. Godzilla puts a hand on his shoulder without saying a word. And here is the answer to our game show The Chase But Everyone Is Walking! Otis Wagstaff of Empty Barrel, Nevada, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What is the record for most consecutive high fives that missed?' The answer was of course forty one, set at a rec league in 1998 and never approached since. Otis therefore wins a milk crate full of cassette tapes with no labels! While you were watching the game, I was desperately searching for my pen. Still haven't found it. That's all for tonight. And now: 'Deadliest Catch: Rush Hour on the Beltway.' Documentary.

Matchday 4 — vs Philadelphia Injury-Report

78-115 (L)

Doctor Doom controls the tip, and the offense gets to run its first set on schedule. Little edges like that stack up over forty-eight minutes.

Ball into Spider-Man at the elbow, Godzilla plants his foot and goes backdoor, and the pass meets him in the air. Filthy. In, around, and gone. The iron gives Godzilla nothing.

Ball moves. Optimus Prime to Spider-Man, on time and on target. The defender planted his feet, and Spider-Man said thank you very much and drove straight through his front pocket. Rising into two defenders, Spider-Man launches a jumper that finds nothing but backboard and bad decisions.

Optimus Prime gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Godzilla saw it a beat early. A soldier breaking down a professional defender in front of a sold out house! Remember that day job, folks! Watch the feet on Optimus Prime there, still drifting sideways at the release, and that is exactly why the floater sails wide left of everything.

More second chance points for Philadelphia Injury-Report, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

Halftime! Optimus Prime has the hardwood pattern imprinted on his elbow. Intel: Optimus Prime once called an imaginary timeout in the middle of a game. The ref actually hesitated. And now, our halftime TV game show Legends of the Hidden Thermostat! To win a snow globe of a town that has never once had snow, text HOOPS to 555-0247 and answer this question: 'Which came first, the tailgate or the truck?' The players step onto the hardwood once more. The second half starts now.

Cross court, on a rope, from the player. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. The beauty of it is that Palpatine never has to set a screen at all, the exchange IS the screen. Nightmare to guard. The superhero just dunked on two grown men and drew the foul. Whatever that job pays, it is not enough.

Spider-Man finds the courtside camera lens, leans all the way in and says absolutely nothing. Just breathes on it. Eight seconds of national television filled by one enormous face. Palpatine photobombs with crossed eyes, and the clip runs on every highlight show by midnight.

Philadelphia Injury-Report again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

ISO! Palpatine has him on an island and nobody is coming to save that man. Wasted possession from Palpatine. Charge, dead ball, and the other team walks its offense right back up the floor with a free one.

Bucket for Philadelphia Injury-Report. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

The sith lord just rotated over and shut the paint down like a shift change. Where does THAT defensive IQ come from? The box score will show nothing at all for the sith lord, just a ruined shot and a shooter who will remember that wall all night.

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Philadelphia Injury-Report with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

Unselfish basketball. Godzilla passes up a good shot and hands Spider-Man a GREAT one. BRICK! Spider-Man throws up a prayer and the iron sends it straight back out to half court!

And there it is, a walk-in layup for Philadelphia Injury-Report with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

Optimus Prime eats the contact so Godzilla can run free along the baseline, and the catch-and-shoot look is right there. OHHHH! Godzilla went up looking for a poster and came back down as the punchline.

Huddle is tight, marker squeaking on the board, and Spider-Man is already nodding before the coach finishes the sentence. OHHHH that is BEAUTIFUL basketball! Optimus Prime finishes the set and the whole bench is up.

Optimus Prime does the bit whole team practiced in the hotel: a slow-motion handshake with Spider-Man that goes on far too long, sound effects included. Six full seconds. The referee stands there holding the ball. Neither man breaks character.

Godzilla slams his fist on the bench. Doctor Doom places his palm flat, as if to calm the surface. And here is the answer to our game Legends of the Hidden Thermostat! Duane Grubbs of Sour Lake Flats, Louisiana, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'Which came first, the tailgate or the truck?' The answer was of course the tailgate, and it waited nineteen years. Duane takes home a snow globe of a town that has never once had snow! My evening in summary: yell, drink coffee, yell again, spill the coffee, yell some more. We're out! And now, 'House Hunters: Broom Closet Edition.' Cozy open concept.

Matchday 5 — vs Phoenix No-Defense

90-135 (L)

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Phoenix No-Defense, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

Somewhere out there a superhero is learning that the day job never included defensive slides. Rough little moment. The whistle blows, Godzilla throws his hands up in protest, and the replay is going to make that argument very short.

Hard drive, hard stop, and Godzilla retreats into an ocean of open hardwood. The player just traveled so obviously the referee did not even need a second look. Stick to the day job, my guy.

Turnover, layup, Phoenix No-Defense straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

The player turns clean out of two bodies in the paint. That is nowhere in the job description and yet here we are. AND ONE for the player! Took the hit, made the shot, buried the bonus. You cannot write a better story in this league!

Godzilla sets an invisible crown on his own head, adjusts it twice, and carries the thing off like it weighs forty pounds. The Phoenix No-Defense bench does not find it funny. Spider-Man pounds the crown down with one fist and steers him away before the technical arrives.

The players file out. Palpatine exchanges a tense look with the coach. Confession: Palpatine believes the away locker room is haunted. Refuses to go in alone. And now, our halftime TV game show Name That Casserole! To win a folding chair with one leg noticeably shorter than the others, text HOOPS to 555-0177 and answer this question: 'What is the official state bird of a parking lot?' We're back! The players look fired up.

The player just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. Screen, hesitation, delivery, Palpatine drops it off perfectly for Spider-Man diving to the rim. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Two points in every gym in America except this one, and Spider-Man is walking back with both hands on his head.

Here comes Spider-Man sprinting off the elbow. Optimus Prime slides it into his pocket and that chase defender is buried. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Spider-Man builds the whole thing from nothing. No screen, no help, three points.

Optimus Prime holds it, waits, waits some more, then lets it go at the last possible instant to Godzilla flying by. That is a half-second window and he threads it. Stuck out on the perimeter with no outlet, Godzilla panics, re-dribbles, and hands the possession over on a silver platter.

Nobody told the soldier that a hot hand expires, and there he is launching from thirty feet with a defender draped all over him. Back to work.

Dagger from Phoenix No-Defense. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

A cut with that timing from the player? He is on the clock somewhere else all week and he still found time to learn the two-man game. Look at Godzilla mouthing an apology toward his own bench before the call is even announced. He knew instantly.

Phoenix No-Defense again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

The sith lord just ran a give and go to perfection on national television! Somebody go tell his boss what he does after hours! Palpatine had that one all the way, perfect release, perfect arc, and the rim simply refuses to let it drop.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for Phoenix No-Defense with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

The player is running this zone like he has been drawing it up his entire life. Wrong career, my friend, absolutely the wrong career.

Spider-Man's complexion is grey. Godzilla's is red. Defeat comes in different colors. And here is the answer to our game Name That Casserole! Bobbie Jo Tatum of Mule Shoe Flats, Texas, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the official state bird of a parking lot?' The answer was of course the seagull, even nine hundred miles inland. Bobbie Jo takes home a folding chair with one leg noticeably shorter than the others! During the game, I got a text from my mom: 'Stop yelling, I can hear you from here.' She lives 120 miles away. This was your favorite commentator. Coming up: 'Extreme Makeover: Garage Edition.' Don't change the channel. Or do.

Matchday 6 — vs Los Angeles Nursing-Home

86-121 (L)

Dagger from Los Angeles Nursing-Home. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

The extra pass! Optimus Prime had the look, gave it up anyway, and Godzilla buries it. BANG! You cannot foul a shooter out that far, and Godzilla just made this defense pay the maximum price for it.

Salute: sharp, military, held. Godzilla delivers it toward the loudest corner of the building and does not drop his hand until the noise starts to hurt. Spider-Man snaps to attention beside him and the bench follows. Twelve saluting maniacs and a coach with his head in his hands.

STOP AND GO! Godzilla hit the brakes, hit the gas, and the lane opened up like a garage door. Godzilla draws the foul on a THREE-POINT attempt. The building groans, the coach turns around, and nobody wants to make eye contact.

SKIP PASS! Godzilla fires it cross court to Optimus Prime and the defense is dead in the water! Court vision like that on the soldier is absurd. Whatever the day job pays him, the assist numbers say he is badly underpriced. The sith lord misses absolutely everything, and honestly, the nerve to even attempt that shot deserves something. Not points. But something.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Los Angeles Nursing-Home, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

End of the first half. Optimus Prime is beet red but still standing. Did you know? Optimus Prime once signed an autograph for a referee. During the game. Mid free-throw. And now, our halftime TV game show Card Sharks and Minnows! To win a case of off-brand soda called Mister Fizz, text HOOPS to 555-0209 and answer this question: 'How deep is the deep end of a kiddie pool?' Back for seconds. The court is shining, and so are the players.

Full-court pressure on the soldier, and the trade skills do not transfer one bit. Painful to watch.

A cut with that timing from the player? He is on the clock somewhere else all week and he still found time to learn the two-man game. BANG is what Godzilla was hearing in his head. Clang is what this building actually got.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Los Angeles Nursing-Home in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Laser from Optimus Prime, corner to corner, and that closeout gets there about a second and a half too late. The adventurer reads the screen perfectly, comes off shoulder to shoulder, and buys himself an open look. Veteran movement, rookie resume. Catching it right at the cup with nobody within eight feet, Doctor Doom goes up too strong and the ball rides high off the backboard.

Late rotation from Optimus Prime, he arrives half a beat behind the drive and the contact is obvious to everybody in the building. That is number THREE on Optimus Prime, and we have not even reached the half.

Screen, roll, DELIVERY from Optimus Prime! Nothing but runway to the rim! It went halfway down! The ball sat in the cylinder, thought about it, and rolled off the far side on Palpatine. Cruel.

Los Angeles Nursing-Home again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

This is the work that never shows up on a stat sheet, Optimus Prime gets the credit and the guy setting the screen gets the bruise. The soldier gets it handed over on a silver platter at point blank range and drops it. Somewhere in this building a coach is questioning every decision that led here.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for Los Angeles Nursing-Home with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

That is a lost cause and the big man knows it, so Spider-Man gets him to kick it out with four on the shot clock. Steal, sprint, slam. Spider-Man takes the Godzilla feed and puts it down before anyone gets back.

Chest bump so violent that Spider-Man and Optimus Prime both end up on the hardwood. They lie there laughing while play is stopped. A trainer jogs out to make sure nobody cracked a rib. The crowd is chanting before either man gets back to his feet.

Godzilla sits on the floor in the hallway. Spider-Man sits down next to him. Nobody speaks. And here is the answer to our game Card Sharks and Minnows! Norma Jean Slaughterbeck of Grease Rack, Indiana, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How deep is the deep end of a kiddie pool?' The answer was of course approximately one confident toddler. Norma Jean takes home a case of off-brand soda called Mister Fizz! Tonight my voice traveled three octaves. Baritone to soprano. Basketball does that to you. Alright, good night! Up next: 'Secret Life of Your Mailman.' Episode 47.

Matchday 7 — vs Toronto Border-Patrol

88-132 (L)

Tip goes to the adventurer, who spends most of the week nowhere near a gym. Explain that one to me.

GONE down the baseline! Godzilla beat him on the first step and the paint is collapsing. Stonewalled at the top of the square! The big man meets Godzilla up there and returns it with interest.

Dagger from Toronto Border-Patrol. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

This is the possession the entire scouting report warned about, and Palpatine is licking his chops. Onions! Palpatine walks up and knocks down the freebie. That is FOUR the hard way.

Watch the spacing there, Godzilla hits Spider-Man right in the shooting pocket and the possession stays alive. From WAY downtown off the pop! Spider-Man with the extra pass and CASH. Twenty-four seconds of standing around, and Doctor Doom has to eat the last two of them. Possession wasted long before the shot went up.

Halftime whistle. Doctor Doom has dried blood on his elbow but plays tough. Little secret: Doctor Doom listens to Celine Dion to focus. I repeat, Celine Dion. And now, our halftime TV game show Beat the Shot Clock! To win a rusted horseshoe signed by a man named Dale, text HOOPS to 555-0533 and answer this question: 'What is the boiling point of nacho cheese at concession stand altitude?' Play resumes. The DJ drops a beat to hype up the crowd.

Set called, Godzilla waved out to the corner, and Optimus Prime watches the spacing open up like a front door. A cut with that timing from the player? He is on the clock somewhere else all week and he still found time to learn the two-man game. OHHHH, the cylinder rejects the player! Somewhere a whole workplace just yelled at a television.

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Toronto Border-Patrol with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

Godzilla kicks it over to Doctor Doom, no dribble, no drama, and this offense settles into a rhythm. The adventurer pulls out the crossover of his life, and Monday morning he clocks in like nothing ever happened. Wide open at the top of the key and Doctor Doom cannot make it count, the defense secures the board and takes off in transition.

More second chance points for Toronto Border-Patrol, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

Push the pace! Optimus Prime grabs it and hits Doctor Doom in stride before the defense can even match up. The defender crowded the middle, and Doctor Doom punished him along the baseline like it was drawn up in the huddle. The bench has cleared, the crowd is screaming, and somewhere a photographer just got the shot of the season thanks to Doctor Doom.

Doctor Doom hangs on the rim one extra beat, letting the whole arena wait on him, then drops down into a dead-eyed mean mug. Godzilla shoves him in the chest just to get a reaction. Nothing. Stone face on a man who just changed the game.

Bucket for Toronto Border-Patrol. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

The soldier is out here running a pro offense with hand signals, not one hint of panic, and he clocks in somewhere else in the morning. This is the counter: Spider-Man punished a defense that kept going under, and now they have to rip up the game plan. Palpatine fires that thing at the backboard like it owes him money. No chance from the moment it left his hand.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for Toronto Border-Patrol with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

The soldier hit three straight and immediately decided he was allowed to shoot from the tunnel. He was not.

You do not need a scholarship to figure that one out. The adventurer just stopped the clock the way people have been stopping clocks in gyms for sixty years.

Palpatine bites the inside of his cheek. Spider-Man pinches the bridge of his nose. And here is the answer to our game show Beat the Shot Clock! Randall Meeks of Coon Holler Springs, Kentucky, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What is the boiling point of nacho cheese at concession stand altitude?' The answer was of course that it does not boil, it simply becomes more determined. Randall therefore wins a rusted horseshoe signed by a man named Dale! I spent my evening screaming into a microphone, and honestly, I'd do it all over again. Good night everyone! Up next: 'Worst Cooks in America: Boiling an Egg Without Breaking It.' Challenge accepted.

Matchday 8 — vs Minnesota Ice-Wall

78-122 (L)

Ohhh no. Corner three, Minnesota Ice-Wall in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Godzilla just did it by hitting Doctor Doom on the back side with acres of room. Filthy. Absolutely filthy from Doctor Doom, and the defender knows exactly what just happened to him. Nobody drew up that arc. The adventurer floated one halfway to the rafters, and the rim never even got a say.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Minnesota Ice-Wall, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

The soldier is out here running a pro offense with hand signals, not one hint of panic, and he clocks in somewhere else in the morning. Doctor Doom comes flying off that screen and he is WIDE open! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Doctor Doom rose up over the help and hammered it down on somebody's head!

Minnesota Ice-Wall again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

Well-deserved break. Godzilla looks like someone who just ran a marathon. Intel: Godzilla refuses to play if the ball isn't inflated to exactly 8 PSI. Not 7.9, not 8.1. Eight. And now, our halftime TV game show Grand Prize Giveaway Extravaganza Deluxe! To win a wood chipper rated exclusively for grass clippings, text HOOPS to 555-1263 and answer this question: 'How many people in this country are named after a basketball game?' We're back at it. The crowd had time to reload at the snack bar.

Illegal, and expensive. The superhero gets the goaltending call and the basket counts. Long day at the office, longer night under the rim.

Cold blooded from Minnesota Ice-Wall, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Optimus Prime has known that all night long. Straight down the baseline goes the superhero! Whatever shift he worked this morning, he clearly left plenty in the tank. Baby hook by Spider-Man, right over that outstretched hand, high off the board, count it.

Somebody explain how the soldier reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Left, right, gone. Godzilla put that defender on skates and never even looked back. Godzilla beat the clock by a tenth of a second and missed by about four feet. Technically legal, competitively pointless.

Here is the part that never makes the highlight package: Optimus Prime controlling tempo, burning clock, hunting the mismatch the second one shows up. Baseline spin from Godzilla at full speed, and his man never even gets a hand into the picture. Filthy stuff. That is what heavy minutes do, Godzilla has run all night and the legs have nothing left to give the jumper.

The player just made the extra pass with a clean look of his own! You do not run into that kind of selflessness at the office! Buzzer on the shot clock, Spider-Man heaves it off one leg, and the ball comes up short of everything.

Dagger from Minnesota Ice-Wall. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

Off the pin-down comes the soldier with nobody inside a zip code. Somebody out there knows how to use a screen, and it is not who you would guess. The soldier tried the teardrop and never got it to the rim. Turns out soft touch does not come standard with that day job.

Look how low Godzilla keeps that shoulder on the drive, that is how you turn a sliver of space into a walk to the rim. That is the shot chart lying to you. Godzilla did everything right on this possession and has zero points to show for it.

Whistle! Palpatine gets him on the arm. Personal foul, nothing clever about it. Palpatine pulls the towel over his head before he even sits down, and you can read the frustration from the upper deck.

Palpatine claps his hands in frustration. Spider-Man clenches his jaw so hard you can hear it from here. And here is the answer to our game show Grand Prize Giveaway Extravaganza Deluxe! Ezra Bottomley of Grand Prairie Elbow, California, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many people in this country are named after a basketball game?' The answer was of course four thousand two hundred, and a suspicious number of them were born nine months after a title run. Ezra therefore wins a wood chipper rated exclusively for grass clippings! Confession: I bet against my favorite team tonight. Superstition. It works half the time. See you soon. And now: '911: My Cat Climbed on Top of the Wardrobe.'

Matchday 9 — vs Houston Blast-Off

87-131 (L)

Bucket for Houston Blast-Off. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Working him at the top of the key, low dribble, low dribble, then Godzilla rips it across and his man lunges at a ghost. The block is clean, the ball is gone, and Godzilla is left staring at his empty hands like a man who lost his keys.

Cold blooded from Houston Blast-Off, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Watch the sell from Godzilla here, he leans in, he gets the defender leaning with him, and then he backs away into all that space. The player had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Spider-Man chases the referee half the length of the floor and pays for it with a technical. Spider-Man would not let it go. He already had one, he knew the rule, and he kept talking anyway.

Cut! Halftime. Spider-Man's jersey is completely drenched in sweat. Rumor has it Spider-Man talks to his basketball in the locker room. Nobody dares say it's weird. And now, our halftime TV game show Win, Lose, or Shrug! To win a giant novelty check made out for two dollars, text HOOPS to 555-0075 and answer this question: 'How many pieces are missing from a jigsaw puzzle at a lake house?' Back on the court. The crowd greets them with a standing ovation.

Dribble handoff from Optimus Prime, and the defender gets wiped out on the exchange! Godzilla lets it FLY from way downtown and... front rim. Not this time. Palpatine SKIES for it! Extra life for this offense. Miss, tip, bucket. Palpatine makes his living in the wreckage.

Hands out, palms up, Palpatine shrugs at the officials like he cannot explain what he just did either. Dry as a bone. Spider-Man is doubled over at half court and the broadcast crew is howling. It goes viral before the next possession even starts.

Doctor Doom did that, and now the loudest twelve people in this arena are all wearing the same uniform he is. Nobody gambles less and steals more than Godzilla. He does not reach, he anticipates, and that is the whole difference.

Palpatine does not love that call. Both hands in the air, a long look at the official, and the whistle still counts.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Houston Blast-Off, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

Palpatine attacks the baseline and the ENTIRE defense has to rotate behind him! Rising up out of the corner, Palpatine sends it LONG, clanging off the far side and out to the wing.

Turnover, layup, Houston Blast-Off straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Godzilla sets it and slides out instead of rolling, Optimus Prime finds him late, and the defense pays for cheating under the screen. Rim, backboard, none of the above from the player! Ladies and gentlemen, that is a person with a real job, and we have all just been reminded of it.

Enough room out there to set up a lawn chair, and the soldier made it himself. Total professional, in a completely unrelated profession. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Optimus Prime scooped that in from underneath the rim!

Optimus Prime crosses his arms into an X, plants his feet at the top of the key and dares somebody to say something. Nobody does. Spider-Man mirrors the pose beside him. Two statues, twenty thousand people screaming, and every camera in the gym pointed at them.

Dagger from Houston Blast-Off. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Optimus Prime breaks a shell down. The big rolls, the defense collapses, and Spider-Man punishes it with a read most guys never even see. Optimus Prime rises up from fifteen feet and OHHHH, that rattled in and OUT!

Palpatine pulls his cap down over his eyes. Doctor Doom doesn't have a cap, and it shows. And here is the answer to our game Win, Lose, or Shrug! Maxine Skaggs of Bitter Root Draw, New Jersey, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many pieces are missing from a jigsaw puzzle at a lake house?' The answer was of course two, always the same two, and one of them is sky. Maxine takes home a giant novelty check made out for two dollars! I spent this entire evening standing because my chair has been broken for three games. Nobody fixes it. Thanks for watching. Coming up: '48 Hours: The Secret Life of Roundabouts.' Essential viewing.

Matchday 10 — vs Denver Horse-Track

91-133 (L)

Dagger from Denver Horse-Track. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

No hero ball here: Godzilla takes what the defense gives and moves it along. POCKET PASS! Palpatine threads it to Optimus Prime between two bodies and the rim is wide open! Missed layup for the soldier and the whole arena groans as one. Great hands in the day job, apparently they do not travel.

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Denver Horse-Track with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

It started as a hard box out and it ended with Doctor Doom throwing an elbow the crew could not possibly ignore.

More second chance points for Denver Horse-Track, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

Break. Godzilla's socks are soaking wet — quick change on the spot. Small detail: Godzilla wears mismatched socks every game. Calls it a strategy. And now, our halftime TV game show The Dating Game of Horseshoes! To win a cast-iron skillet seasoned by four generations of strangers, text HOOPS to 555-0313 and answer this question: 'What is the world record for longest halftime shot made by a man holding a soft drink?' Back on the hardwood. The tension has gone up a notch.

Ball moves. Godzilla to Spider-Man, on time and on target. Optimus Prime just took a shoulder to the chest to buy Spider-Man half a second, and half a second in this league is an eternity. The superhero misses absolutely everything, and honestly, the nerve to even attempt that shot deserves something. Not points. But something.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for Denver Horse-Track with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

The sith lord just made the extra pass with a clean look of his own! You do not run into that kind of selflessness at the office! Godzilla went for the deep heat check and produced the loudest silence of the night, roar to OHHHH in half a second.

Optimus Prime walks it up, two fingers in the air, and the whole offense shifts on his command. That is a self-created look of the highest order, and there might be five guys in this league who get to it on demand the way Spider-Man does. AIRBALL! Spider-Man missed the rim, the backboard and everything in between!

Optimus Prime reads the eyes the whole way, gets a mitt on it, and that is OUR basketball now. Rebound to fast break in one motion, courtesy of the soldier. That is not a hobby, that is a skill set. Put him on skates, then put him on a POSTER. Palpatine owns the highlight reel tonight.

Golf swing follow-through, perfect form, Palpatine tracks the imaginary ball into the upper deck with a hand shading his eyes. Somebody in the front row yells about a hole in one. The referee has now warned this team twice and been ignored twice.

Denver Horse-Track again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

Somebody get the superhero a rim protection bonus! Clocks out at five, guarding the paint by seven. This league is a wonderful place.

Somebody explain how the soldier reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. The lob is the toughest read in the league, and Palpatine keeps making it look like a layup line drill.

Off the pin-down comes the player with nobody inside a zip code. Somebody out there knows how to use a screen, and it is not who you would guess. Getting to his spot and elevating, Godzilla puts it on the back iron, up over the front, and out. Half a rotation from two points.

The player commits the ugliest foul of the night entirely on purpose, and honestly that is the smartest thing anyone has done all quarter.

Godzilla sits on the floor in the hallway. Optimus Prime sits down next to him. Nobody speaks. And here is the answer to our game The Dating Game of Horseshoes! Sherman Pilkington of Chicken Bristle, Rhode Island, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the world record for longest halftime shot made by a man holding a soft drink?' The answer was of course forty-one feet, and he did not spill a drop, which is the real story. Sherman takes home a cast-iron skillet seasoned by four generations of strangers! Evening confession: I'm wearing Godzilla's jersey under my shirt. For morale. Thanks everyone! And now: 'Keeping Up with the Kardashians: Season 312.' They will never stop.

Matchday 11 — vs New York Over-Timers

82-126 (L)

The superhero just out-jumped a guy half a foot taller for the opening tip. Somebody check the day job again.

Dagger from New York Over-Timers. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

OHHHH the pin-down! Optimus Prime pops out clean while the defender is STILL tangled up with Spider-Man. Brutal. The soldier had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

Turnover, layup, New York Over-Timers straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Somebody explain how the soldier reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. The sith lord just threaded a pocket pass through two defenders. Where exactly did that vision come from? You can hear that rim ringing from up here, Doctor Doom has forced three in a row now and the whole offense has stopped moving.

Break. Palpatine's socks are soaking wet — quick change on the spot. Did you know? Palpatine once signed an autograph for a referee. During the game. Mid free-throw. And now, our halftime TV game show The Newlywed Timeout! To win a family size bag of off brand cheese puffs, text HOOPS to 555-0472 and answer this question: 'How far away can a scoreboard buzzer be heard by a dog?' Here we go. Tactical adjustments have been made.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for New York Over-Timers with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

Down screen, and Godzilla curls hard into the middle of the floor with a full step of daylight. Easy read. That is a shot selection problem, plain and simple. Godzilla drove into three bodies and the help defender was waiting the whole way.

Bucket for New York Over-Timers. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Clean feed from Palpatine, nothing forced, just the offense breathing. Nobody is getting a hand near that. Spider-Man has all the room in the world. The superhero lines one up from four feet behind the line and the rim rejects the application on the spot. Back to the day job on that possession.

The soldier just got left in the dust, and in fairness, that is a professional athlete he was asked to guard. Two on the board for the visitors, and Doctor Doom knows it before the officials even get their hands up.

There was a clean look available and instead Palpatine drives into three bodies and loses the handle. That is what a cold spell does to a good player. The superhero launched one from the logo as the horn sounded. In fairness, nobody in that huddle gave him a better option.

Dribble handoff from Optimus Prime, and the defender gets wiped out on the exchange! No touch. Palpatine left the soft hands in the locker room tonight. Muscled away at the second jump by Doctor Doom, and this offense resets with a fresh shot clock. Rebounding is effort, and effort is apparently what the adventurer does for a living. Second chance points, all guts.

Slow walk, no expression. Doctor Doom backpedals past the New York Over-Timers huddle close enough to hear what is being said and never turns his head. The crowd noise is a physical object at this point. One of their assistants stands up, and nothing comes of it.

That is vision. Godzilla sees the pocket open for a tenth of a second and puts the ball in it. Rip through, one dribble, contact. Spider-Man plays that little game better than anybody on this floor. This is exactly why the coach wants the ball in his hands late. Spider-Man has been money at that line all season long.

Three fingers up, walking backward the length of the floor, Spider-Man never once looks at the basket he just drained. The bench mob is off the seats, towels overhead, security waving them back down. Nobody sits. Nobody in here is going to sit again tonight.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, New York Over-Timers, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

Palpatine launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Optimus Prime drives, draws two bodies, and swings it one more time to the corner. That is the pass nobody is required to make. Rises, releases, and Palpatine sends the ball through the exact patch of sky where the rim is not.

Spider-Man hurls his water bottle at the wall. Palpatine flinches but doesn't react. And here is the answer to our game show The Newlywed Timeout! Dewey Spillman of Frostbite Flats, Minnesota, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How far away can a scoreboard buzzer be heard by a dog?' The answer was of course three and a half miles, and the dog does not care for it. Dewey therefore wins a family size bag of off brand cheese puffs! I learned tonight that Spider-Man used to be a soldier. That explains the unique running style. We're packing up. Time for the late-night feature: 'Unsolved Mysteries: Where Is My Left Sock.'

Matchday 12 — vs Cleveland Twin-Towers

86-131 (L)

Small thing, a jump ball, but Spider-Man winning that tip means we set the tone. Coaches script that first play for a reason.

Bucket for Cleveland Twin-Towers. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Total control. Optimus Prime has this thing on a string. The player reads the screen perfectly, comes off shoulder to shoulder, and buys himself an open look. Veteran movement, rookie resume. Oh my. Godzilla did not even draw iron.

Turnover, layup, Cleveland Twin-Towers straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

OHHHH, what a read by Palpatine! He never even glanced at the rim and it is CASH on the other end. Third one of these from Optimus Prime this quarter, third time the arc is wrong. The lane is not open real estate anymore.

Halftime! Spider-Man checks his stats on the board and winces. Staff confession: Spider-Man is afraid of pigeons. Not 7-foot centers, no. Pigeons. And now, our halftime TV game show The Weakest Rebound! To win a first place pepper jelly ribbon from the 1996 state fair, text HOOPS to 555-1327 and answer this question: 'What is the official color of the squeak sneaker makes on a wet floor?' Here they come. You can read the determination on their faces.

Optimus Prime feels the contact, spins off that shoulder, and the defender is left hugging a whole lot of nothing. The soldier launched one from the logo as the horn sounded. In fairness, nobody in that huddle gave him a better option.

Cold blooded from Cleveland Twin-Towers, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Eight seconds off the shot clock and Optimus Prime has not wasted one of them, the ball reaching Doctor Doom precisely where the play wanted it. A probe, a plant of the outside foot, and Doctor Doom pushes off while his man is still fighting to recover his balance. The adventurer misses absolutely everything, and honestly, the nerve to even attempt that shot deserves something. Not points. But something.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Cleveland Twin-Towers in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Ball moves. Optimus Prime to Doctor Doom, on time and on target. Dribble alive, patient, patient, and then Doctor Doom slips it to Palpatine right in the pocket. Surgical. You can hear this arena react a half second before the ball even goes through, and that tells you everything about Palpatine.

Everybody in the arena knew the stepback was coming from Optimus Prime, and not one single soul could do anything about it. Somewhere there is a coaching video being edited right now, and the soldier is the star of it. Three steps and a prayer.

No hero ball here: Godzilla takes what the defense gives and moves it along. Ice in his veins for a guy who answers to soldier the rest of the week. Professional shot, amateur resume. Shot clock at one, and Godzilla just has to throw something at the rim. Nothing doing.

More second chance points for Cleveland Twin-Towers, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

Clean feed from Palpatine, nothing forced, just the offense breathing. The adventurer just ran that two-man game like he has a decade of film on it. Somebody get this man a contract. A cruel spin-out for the sith lord, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

Timeout. Tablet out. And every line the coach draws starts with Spider-Man. Cut, screen, relocate, and there is Doctor Doom wide open in the corner. Nobody on that defense read one page of it.

Straight to the logo at center court, Doctor Doom plants both feet and flexes until the veins show. The bench is a pile of bodies and airborne headbands. An assistant coach has to be physically restrained by a trainer who is also celebrating.

Optimus Prime stands alone at center court as the lights go dim. Godzilla comes back to get him. And here is the answer to our game show The Weakest Rebound! Earlene Tidwell of Gizzard Ridge, Tennessee, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What is the official color of the squeak sneaker makes on a wet floor?' The answer was of course a light mustard yellow, per the county Department of Squeaks. Earlene therefore wins a first place pepper jelly ribbon from the 1996 state fair! My evening? I spent it holding back tears. Of joy? Of exhaustion? Both. That was beautiful. And now: 'House Hunters International: 90-Square-Foot Studio, Wall View.' A steal.

Matchday 13 — vs Boston Ring-Chasers

84-129 (L)

The adventurer just out-jumped a guy half a foot taller for the opening tip. Somebody check the day job again.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Boston Ring-Chasers in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Optimus Prime is COOKING and he knows it, he wants every single touch right now! The soldier hit three straight and immediately decided he was allowed to shoot from the tunnel. He was not.

Optimus Prime flies at a jump shooter thirty feet from the rim and lands on his hip. Three shots coming.

Follow the ball there: four sets of hands, Godzilla makes the last read, and the defense never gets set. That is training camp offense. OHHHH, that one died in the air! Optimus Prime put nothing into it and the front rim eats the floater.

First half is done. Optimus Prime is chugging Gatorade like it's water. Little secret: Optimus Prime watches cat videos between quarters. Says it's relaxing. And now, our halftime TV game show Whammy Watch Live! To win a barrel of packing peanuts and absolutely nothing else, text HOOPS to 555-1073 and answer this question: 'How tall is the shortest player who ever dunked in a dream?' Back for the second half. The coach slammed his fist on the table.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for Boston Ring-Chasers with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

Look at Optimus Prime down there, running a whole clinic from the end of the bench like an assistant on a short contract.

Bucket for Boston Ring-Chasers. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Second pass beats the rotation, Palpatine to Godzilla, and the closeout gets there about half a second too late. The player took the contact, made the shot, and swished the bonus. Whatever he does on Monday, tonight he is a PROBLEM.

More second chance points for Boston Ring-Chasers, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

Look at that bench! Optimus Prime just lit the fuse! NOT A CHANCE! Palpatine came flying at that pull-up and DELETED it!

Turnover, layup, Boston Ring-Chasers straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Cross court, on a rope, from the player. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. Dribble handoff from Palpatine, and the defender gets wiped out on the exchange! Textbook footwork, textbook release from Doctor Doom, cruel result as it spins out and both teams go up for a contested board.

Whirl, and GONE! Optimus Prime leaves the defender grabbing at a jersey that stopped being there half a second ago. Nobody moved, nobody cut, nobody set a screen, so Optimus Prime launches a contested jumper with the horn already going. Ugly offense.

The coach just drew up the biggest play of the night for the superhero, a sentence I did not expect to say out loud this evening. Drawn up in the huddle, executed by the player, who clocks in somewhere else on Monday morning. Perfect.

Doctor Doom hurls his mouthguard into the trash. Spider-Man keeps his in, chewing on the frustration. And here is the answer to our game show Whammy Watch Live! Doris Ann Pickerel of Skunk Cabbage, Connecticut, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How tall is the shortest player who ever dunked in a dream?' The answer was of course five foot two, and the dream was extremely convincing. Doris Ann therefore wins a barrel of packing peanuts and absolutely nothing else! While you were watching the game, I was desperately searching for my pen. Still haven't found it. Off to bed! And now: 'Jeopardy: Cafeteria Trivia Edition.'

Matchday 14 — vs San Antonio Skyscrapers

88-132 (L)

Won it clean! Doctor Doom got up and over him with room to spare.

They have to shoot over the top of this thing, and the top of it is a long way up. Filthy work from Palpatine. The adventurer just blocked a jump shot into the stands and went back on defense like it was a normal Tuesday.

Count it and the foul. Brutal. San Antonio Skyscrapers with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

Total control. Optimus Prime has this thing on a string. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Doctor Doom spun out of a double team like it was a revolving door! The adventurer gets it handed over on a silver platter at point blank range and drops it. Somewhere in this building a coach is questioning every decision that led here.

Ohhh no. Corner three, San Antonio Skyscrapers in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Break time. Doctor Doom bolts to the locker room without looking at anyone. Rumor has it Doctor Doom tried to recruit the pizza delivery guy for the team. The guy was 6'9". And now, our halftime TV game show Second Chance Second Half! To win a hand painted mailbox shaped like a catfish, text HOOPS to 555-1006 and answer this question: 'What is the population of a town on the night of a rivalry game?' Both teams emerge from the tunnel. The second half can begin.

Give the man credit for the effort, because Palpatine contested that from three feet behind, which is technically a contest. Body to body all the way to the rim and the arm goes up. That is on Doctor Doom, and this crew is not letting anything go tonight.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for San Antonio Skyscrapers with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

Baseline wide open. Godzilla said thank you. Godzilla pump fakes, gets the defender airborne, and walks right into his chest. Free throws. Godzilla steps up, same routine, same release, splash and splash. Nothing but net twice.

Nothing but a nod. Godzilla jogs back on defense with his eyes half closed, like the shot was a formality he had penciled in. The entire arena is levitating and he could not look less involved. The San Antonio Skyscrapers bench looks personally insulted.

Cold blooded from San Antonio Skyscrapers, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Reach-in on the superhero. He tried to take the ball the way he takes everything else on the job, politely and with both hands.

Nobody on earth enjoys taking a charge, which is exactly why Doctor Doom keeps doing it and keeps swinging games.

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Palpatine makes it every single trip down the floor. Off the pin-down comes the player with nobody inside a zip code. Somebody out there knows how to use a screen, and it is not who you would guess. That is body control you simply cannot coach: Godzilla stays up a full beat longer than everybody else and finishes clean.

The whole second unit is on the floor before the ball is out of the net. Godzilla disappears underneath them. Somewhere in the pile shoe comes off. Spider-Man is on the outside of it screaming straight up at the ceiling.

Dagger from San Antonio Skyscrapers. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

The adventurer got moved off the block like a folding chair. That is a grown man's job down there.

This is the part of the league nobody loves and everybody watches: Spider-Man waits with both hands on top of his head. No good! The ball is STILL sitting in the hand of Spider-Man when that light comes on. Waved off.

Spider-Man shakes Palpatine's hand in silence. Not a word. Just a look that says it all. And here is the answer to our game show Second Chance Second Half! Hoyt Pennington of Dishrag Springs, Oregon, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What is the population of a town on the night of a rivalry game?' The answer was of course the whole town plus forty people who moved away in 1987. Hoyt therefore wins a hand painted mailbox shaped like a catfish! I tried to take a selfie with the court in the background. My thumb is over the lens. We're out! And now, 'House Hunters: Broom Closet Edition.' Cozy open concept.

Matchday 15 — vs Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest

74-118 (L)

Both guys crouch, both guys go, and it is Spider-Man who wins the little argument at center court.

The soldier just created his own space with a stepback. Somewhere a scout is spitting coffee all over his notepad. Prayer from Optimus Prime. Not answered.

Bucket for Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

BAAAANG! Optimus Prime sets the table and the pick-and-pop three goes down like somebody scripted it. AROUND the cylinder and OUT! Spider-Man cannot believe it, and neither can this building.

And there it is, a walk-in layup for Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

Finally a breather. Doctor Doom has calf cramps, the physio rushes over. Anecdote: Doctor Doom lost a bet and had to wear the center's shoes during warm-ups. Size 16. And now, our halftime TV game show Truth or Consequences, New Mexico! To win a set of steak knives that cannot cut steak, text HOOPS to 555-0288 and answer this question: 'How many hours can a casserole sit on a church table before it becomes a hazard?' We're back at it. The crowd had time to reload at the snack bar.

OHHHH the help side! Spider-Man comes flying out of nowhere and that drive is DEAD on arrival! Watch the arms on Spider-Man, straight up, no arm bar, nothing for the officials to blow. That is coaching and discipline.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

The sith lord makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. Handoff, turn the corner, BUCKET! Godzilla did all the dirty work on that one. Long and gone. Spider-Man floats the teardrop over everything and bangs it off the back iron.

Somebody explain how the soldier reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Enough room out there to set up a lawn chair, and the player made it himself. Total professional, in a completely unrelated profession. Not close, not warm, not anywhere for Godzilla, straight into the hands of a defender who never had to leave his feet.

Dagger from Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

A full spin move through traffic from the player! Whatever they teach in that trade, footwork is apparently part of it. Count it AND the foul! Godzilla refused to be denied at the rim.

Bent double with his hands on his knees, Godzilla takes one breath, straightens up and points at the coach who drew the play in the huddle. The coach nods once, no smile. Palpatine pounds the man's shoulder anyway. Respect, delivered at maximum volume.

More second chance points for Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

Two defenders, one gap, and Palpatine finds it. Onions on that pass. Optimus Prime rises up from fifteen feet and OHHHH, that rattled in and OUT!

Godzilla rips it back into the stepback and suddenly there is a country mile between him and that defender. Off the back iron for Godzilla, that one had all the distance and none of the accuracy, and the board goes the other way.

Two decoy screens, a flare to the weak side, then Palpatine coming off the second one. That is the whole thing. Coach spent a timeout on a play for the adventurer and it worked to the inch. That is trust you do not fake.

Doctor Doom does the bit whole team practiced in the hotel: a slow-motion handshake with Optimus Prime that goes on far too long, sound effects included. Six full seconds. The referee stands there holding the ball. Neither man breaks character.

Optimus Prime snaps at the bench on his way out. Godzilla says nothing, but his look says everything. And here is the answer to our game Truth or Consequences, New Mexico! Idella Prather of Lonesome Water, Mississippi, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many hours can a casserole sit on a church table before it becomes a hazard?' The answer was of course two hours, or one if somebody brought mayonnaise. Idella takes home a set of steak knives that cannot cut steak! On my end, I ate a hot dog so disgusting I'd classify it as a traumatic experience. Thanks for watching this game. And now: 'Deal or No Deal: Office Fridge Edition.'