My dream starting five — basketball_team 🇦🇺

Matchday 1 — vs Detroit Engine-Roar

75-119 (L)

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Detroit Engine-Roar with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

Whirl, and GONE! George Floyd leaves the defender grabbing at a jersey that stopped being there half a second ago. Filthy patience from George Floyd. He waits for the fly-by, leans into it, and turns one possession into three free points.

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

Watch the change of pace from Joe Bartolozzi, half speed into full speed in one step, and that is a blow-by every time. You are about to see a coach put his entire face in both hands, and Joe Bartolozzi has earned every second of that reaction.

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

Halftime. Ricky Ponting wolfs down an energy bar in two bites. I've been told Ricky Ponting once ordered a pizza during a timeout. The coach was not amused. And now, our halftime TV game show The Pyramid of Slightly Less Money! To win a novelty mug that says WORLDS SECOND BEST GRANDMA, text HOOPS to 555-0938 and answer this question: 'Which is heavier, a pound of basketballs or a pound of excuses?' The buzzer calls the players. Time for the show, act II.

Joe Bartolozzi feels the contact, spins off that shoulder, and the defender is left hugging a whole lot of nothing. The defense keeps turning contested looks by Joe Bartolozzi into free points. STOP REACHING. Two for two from the tiktoker, calm as a Tuesday afternoon. Whatever that job involves all day, it clearly builds very steady hands.

Joe Bartolozzi slides on his knees down the free throw lane, arms wide, and ends up flat on his back watching his own replay on the video board. He points at himself on the screen. The officials have stopped pretending to have any control here.

Cross court, on a rope, from the tiktoker. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. Hesitate, GO. Myrtle Wilson is by that hip before the man even blinks. Not a hand on him. Myrtle Wilson flat missed the bunny.

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

OHHHHH HE SNATCHED HIS ANKLES! Joe Bartolozzi left him on the hardwood and this building is SHAKING! Bless him, Joe Bartolozzi tried a move he has clearly only ever pulled off in an empty gym at midnight. Walk.

Give and go! Joe Bartolozzi gives it up, cuts, and gets it right back with a clear lane to the cup! A timeout is coming, because no defense recovers from watching Joe Bartolozzi do that to one of their own.

Chest bump so violent that Joe Bartolozzi and George Floyd 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.

Cold blooded from Detroit Engine-Roar, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Towels are FLYING for the player! Going back to the day job on Monday is going to feel extremely strange after a night like this. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Morty Smith was at the other free throw line when that break started!

Total control. George Floyd has this thing on a string. The defender planted his feet, and Ricky Ponting said thank you very much and drove straight through his front pocket. In, around, and gone. The iron gives Ricky Ponting nothing.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Detroit Engine-Roar, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

Back at the shop they have got this review up on every phone with the cricket trainer in the frame, and nobody is getting any work done. The replay is clear: the last fingertip belonged to the defender, so possession comes back to Ricky Ponting and his guys.

George Floyd turns back to look at the court one last time. Joe Bartolozzi doesn't turn around. And here is the answer to our game show The Pyramid of Slightly Less Money! Dwight Hufnagel of Bogwater, Maine, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'Which is heavier, a pound of basketballs or a pound of excuses?' The answer was of course the excuses, because they come with packaging. Dwight therefore wins a novelty mug that says WORLDS SECOND BEST GRANDMA! Tonight I learned George Floyd used to be a tiktoker before basketball. Found out during a timeout. Threw me off completely. Thanks everyone! Up next: 'Ice Road Truckers: Uber Eats Delivery on a Rainy Night.'

Matchday 2 — vs Miami Heart-Attack

80-124 (L)

George Floyd is barking at the official, arms out, eyes wide, and there it is. The T comes flying in. Gone. George Floyd walks off, and honestly he looks relieved to have finally said his piece.

Joe Bartolozzi splits the coverage with a bounce pass you need slow motion to appreciate. Dimes. The revolutionary tried the teardrop and never got it to the rim. Turns out soft touch does not come standard with that day job.

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

The player just ran the length of the floor to erase a layup off the backboard. Frame that one for the break room! Rebound to fast break in one motion, courtesy of the player. That is not a hobby, that is a skill set. Two defenders in the lane, Ricky Ponting splits them, double clutches and kisses it off the square. Count it!

Pointing up at the family section, Ricky Ponting taps his chest twice and holds up a fist. A kid in a replica jersey is crying, and so is his mother. A camera crew finds them in nine seconds flat. Sixty seconds of pure decency on national television.

Down goes Myrtle Wilson, up goes the entire bench, and this team just got the basketball back for free.

Halftime whistle. Ricky Ponting high-fives his teammates on the way out. Physio's confession: Ricky Ponting purrs when you massage his calves. Like a cat. A big cat. And now, our halftime TV game show Bowling for Bologna! To win a set of hubcaps for a car that nobody makes anymore, text HOOPS to 555-0204 and answer this question: 'How many buttons on a scoreboard controller actually do anything?' Break's over, time for basketball. Let's go.

Miami Heart-Attack again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

STOP AND GO! George Floyd hit the brakes, hit the gas, and the lane opened up like a garage door. Every highlight show in the country runs that clip tonight, and unfortunately for George Floyd he is on the wrong end of it.

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

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. The player just dunked on two grown men and drew the foul. Whatever that job pays, it is not enough.

Down screen, and Myrtle Wilson 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. Myrtle Wilson drove into three bodies and the help defender was waiting the whole way.

Watch the spacing, George Floyd drags two bodies toward the ball and Ricky Ponting is standing alone behind the line. Geometry, not luck. Rim, backboard, none of the above from the cricket trainer! Ladies and gentlemen, that is a person with a real job, and we have all just been reminded of it.

Bucket for Miami Heart-Attack. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Push the pace! George Floyd grabs it and hits Joe Bartolozzi in stride before the defense can even match up. Ricky Ponting just took a shoulder to the chest to buy Joe Bartolozzi half a second, and half a second in this league is an eternity. The tiktoker misses absolutely everything, and honestly, the nerve to even attempt that shot deserves something. Not points. But something.

Dagger from Miami Heart-Attack. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Myrtle Wilson threw it before the help even committed. The tiktoker reads the screen perfectly, comes off shoulder to shoulder, and buys himself an open look. Veteran movement, rookie resume. Gift wrapped by Ricky Ponting, and Joe Bartolozzi cannot finish the two footer. That one is going to sting.

Joe Bartolozzi collapses into the first available chair. Ricky Ponting stays standing, eyes glazed over. And here is the answer to our game Bowling for Bologna! Faye Ellen Duckworth of Sweat Bee, Connecticut, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many buttons on a scoreboard controller actually do anything?' The answer was of course two, and the rest are there for confidence. Faye Ellen takes home a set of hubcaps for a car that nobody makes anymore! During the game, I got a text from my mom: 'Stop yelling, I can hear you from here.' She lives 120 miles away. That's all! Coming up: 'Hotel Hell: Airbnb With No Lock Edition.' Chills guaranteed.

Matchday 3 — vs Orlando Magic-Beans

84-128 (L)

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

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.

The player just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. Dribble alive, patient, patient, and then Joe Bartolozzi slips it to Ricky Ponting right in the pocket. Surgical. Perfect arc. Ricky Ponting makes seven feet of rim protection completely irrelevant.

Ricky Ponting pulls the jersey away from his chest and points at the crest, twice, hard, then taps his heart. No smile, no theater. The arena horn keeps going long after it should stop. Somebody up in the rafters is holding a sign about this exact city.

A tiktoker breaking down a professional defender in front of a sold out house! Remember that day job, folks! Stepback three from the tiktoker, ice in his veins. You cannot teach that, and apparently you cannot keep it out of the workforce either.

Dagger from Orlando Magic-Beans. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

Halftime. Ricky Ponting wolfs down an energy bar in two bites. Confession: Ricky Ponting calls mom after every loss. And every win. And also on Tuesdays. And now, our halftime TV game show Blockbusters the Video Store One! To win a garden gnome missing both arms, text HOOPS to 555-0712 and answer this question: 'Which is louder, an air horn or a grandmother who disagrees with a call?' Back on the court. The crowd greets them with a standing ovation.

The revolutionary puts a shoulder into the ball handler and pays for it. He spends all day being polite to strangers and now he is hacking people for a living. Fourth foul on the revolutionary and he is headed for the bench. Longest break the man has had since he took that job.

Turnover, layup, Orlando Magic-Beans straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Over the top of everybody. Joe Bartolozzi to Morty Smith in the corner, wide open, catch and rise. A full spin move through traffic from the revolutionary! Whatever they teach in that trade, footwork is apparently part of it. Oh my. Morty Smith did not even draw iron.

Cold blooded from Orlando Magic-Beans, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Laser from Myrtle Wilson, corner to corner, and that closeout gets there about a second and a half too late. That crossover was not about getting a shot up. Ricky Ponting pulled it out to tell everybody in the gym whose possession this is. The cricket trainer had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

Clear path on Joe Bartolozzi. Two shots AND the ball. That is the expensive one.

SKIP PASS! George Floyd fires it cross court to Joe Bartolozzi and the defense is dead in the water! The tiktoker takes the baseline and bends an entire defense out of shape. Absolutely absurd stuff in this building tonight. Off the back iron for Joe Bartolozzi, that one had all the distance and none of the accuracy, and the board goes the other way.

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

THREE SECONDS! Ricky Ponting bought property in that paint and forgot to pay the rent.

Foul to give, and Morty Smith gives it. Clock stops.

Joe Bartolozzi isolates in a corner, back against the wall. Myrtle Wilson tries to talk. He raises a hand to say no. And here is the answer to our game show Blockbusters the Video Store One! Travis Wayne Trundle of Hardtack, Indiana, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'Which is louder, an air horn or a grandmother who disagrees with a call?' The answer was of course the grandmother, by a margin researchers declined to publish. Travis Wayne therefore wins a garden gnome missing both arms! I learned that Joe Bartolozzi's father was a tiktoker. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Thanks for the game! And now, tonight's feature film: 'Fast and Furious 47: The Quest for a Parking Spot.'

Matchday 4 — vs Philadelphia Injury-Report

89-134 (L)

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

Not a bite on the pump fake, Morty Smith stays tall, and the floater dies on the iron.

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

The player just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. Beautiful footwork on that one from George Floyd, the pivot foot never budges, which is precisely why the whistle stays in the pocket. George Floyd gathers on the baseline, absorbs contact from two bodies, and slams it home. That rim is still shaking.

Filthy. Absolutely filthy from Joe Bartolozzi, and the defender knows exactly what just happened to him. The block is clean, the ball is gone, and Joe Bartolozzi is left staring at his empty hands like a man who lost his keys.

Both teams head to the locker room. Myrtle Wilson wipes her forehead with her jersey. The staff told me Myrtle Wilson sings in the shower. Badly. Very badly. And now, our halftime TV game show Guess My Salary Cap! To win a sun visor that says FLORIDA but was manufactured in Indiana, text HOOPS to 555-1136 and answer this question: 'What is the exact salary of a mascot with no contract?' We're back! The coach drew stuff on the whiteboard, let's see if it works.

Textbook two-man game: George Floyd keeps the dribble alive, forces the big man to commit, and Joe Bartolozzi rolls into an open runway. He sets it late, he sets it wide, and he sets it while jogging. Three for three, Joe Bartolozzi, and the possession is gone.

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

The tiktoker just ran a give and go to perfection on national television! Somebody go tell his boss what he does after hours! Twenty-four seconds of standing around, and Joe Bartolozzi has to eat the last two of them. Possession wasted long before the shot went up.

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

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Joe Bartolozzi just gift wrapped three free throws on a heat check. The tiktoker sits down with four. You want to be furious, but honestly, he came here straight off a full shift.

Turnover, layup, Philadelphia Injury-Report straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and George Floyd has known that all night long. OHHHH he went BACKDOOR! Myrtle Wilson never broke stride and he has the ball UNDER THE RIM! Nobody drew up that arc. The player floated one halfway to the rafters, and the rim never even got a say.

Ball up the floor, change of speed right at the logo, and George Floyd already has the defense a full step behind. The help defender committed way too early, and Ricky Ponting made him pay for it with a spin they will be replaying all week. The cricket trainer misses absolutely everything, and honestly, the nerve to even attempt that shot deserves something. Not points. But something.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Philadelphia Injury-Report in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

George Floyd turns the corner off the screen from Myrtle Wilson, the help never rotates, and the lane is WIDE open! You can hear this arena react a half second before the ball even goes through, and that tells you everything about Myrtle Wilson.

Myrtle Wilson freezes in his follow-through, wrist still hanging, and holds it while the Philadelphia Injury-Report coach burns a timeout out of pure desperation. He holds it through the whistle. He holds it into the huddle. The cameras eat every single second of it.

Joe Bartolozzi sits on the bench, staring into nothing. George Floyd has his head in his hands. And here is the answer to our game show Guess My Salary Cap! Marvin Hollopeter of Sandy Britches, New Jersey, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What is the exact salary of a mascot with no contract?' The answer was of course free pizza on Thursdays and all the applause he can carry. Marvin therefore wins a sun visor that says FLORIDA but was manufactured in Indiana! Tonight I nearly had a heart attack at least four times. And I'm just the commentator. That's all for today. Up next: 'Dateline: The True Cost of a Cup of Yogurt.' Deep investigation.

Matchday 5 — vs Phoenix No-Defense

85-129 (L)

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

Personal foul on the revolutionary. Somewhere a shift is going uncovered and not one soul in this arena cares.

Cold blooded from Phoenix No-Defense, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Here is the part that never makes the highlight package: George Floyd controlling tempo, burning clock, hunting the mismatch the second one shows up. One little shoulder dip from Ricky Ponting and the guy guarding him turned into a traffic cone in real time. Prayer from Ricky Ponting. Not answered.

Ball moves. George Floyd to Ricky Ponting, on time and on target. Court vision like that on the cricket trainer is absurd. Whatever the day job pays him, the assist numbers say he is badly underpriced. Rim, backboard, none of the above from the tiktoker! Ladies and gentlemen, that is a person with a real job, and we have all just been reminded of it.

Break! George Floyd has left a puddle of sweat at every step through the tunnel. Intel: George Floyd 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 Press Your Luck Harder! To win a bumper sticker collection covering one entire tailgate, text HOOPS to 555-0362 and answer this question: 'In what year was the jump ball invented by accident during a barn raising?' The locker room empties, the court fills up. Act 2.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Phoenix No-Defense in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

OHHHH that is a bad one from George Floyd! He hauls the ball handler down in the open floor and the whole arena is up and howling. George Floyd goes up in transition and gets HAMMERED across the head. The crew heads to the monitor, and this one is getting upgraded.

Bodies everywhere in the paint and it does not matter one bit to George Floyd, one spin and the ball never leaves the string. Perfect drop-off from Ricky Ponting, and George Floyd answers with... whatever that was. Off the glass, off the rim, and gone.

The player is in a full blown heat check and the building has stopped pretending this is normal. That is not a hot streak, that is a takeover. BANG! Myrtle Wilson steps back, creates the daylight, and buries it right in the defender's eye.

Myrtle Wilson climbs two rows into the stands and gets swallowed by strangers. He comes back out with somebody's cap on backward and a smear of nacho cheese on his shoulder. Ricky Ponting refuses to touch him. This building has never been happier about anything.

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 tiktoker just froze a grown professional with a hesitation dribble. This man punches a clock and he is out here doing THAT. Not close, not warm, not anywhere for Joe Bartolozzi, straight into the hands of a defender who never had to leave his feet.

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Phoenix No-Defense with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

The tiktoker just created his own space with a stepback. Somewhere a scout is spitting coffee all over his notepad. Joe Bartolozzi had that one all the way, perfect release, perfect arc, and the rim simply refuses to let it drop.

You want basketball IQ? Ask the tiktoker, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! George Floyd spun out of a double team like it was a revolving door! That is the kind of finish that changes a defense's body language, and George Floyd has already done it twice this quarter.

Reach-in on Ricky Ponting. He wanted the steal, he bought a foul. Hands off, feet moving, no reaching. That is the entire instruction sheet for Ricky Ponting the rest of the way.

George Floyd watches the crowd file out in silence. Joe Bartolozzi prefers not to look. And here is the answer to our game show Press Your Luck Harder! Bobbi Sue Yarborough of Sawmill Bottom, Georgia, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'In what year was the jump ball invented by accident during a barn raising?' The answer was of course 1871, in a hayloft, by two men arguing about a rooster. Bobbi Sue therefore wins a bumper sticker collection covering one entire tailgate! I spent the evening standing up and sitting down every thirty seconds. My Fitbit is congratulating me. See you tomorrow. In the meantime, it's 'Who Wants to Marry My Goldfish.' Good luck with that.

Matchday 6 — vs Los Angeles Nursing-Home

88-133 (L)

Won it clean! Morty Smith got up and over him with room to spare.

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and George Floyd drops it off to Myrtle Wilson on time and on target. OHHHH the hesi! Myrtle Wilson froze him solid and he is already gone! Shot clock at one, and Myrtle Wilson just has to throw something at the rim. Nothing doing.

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

Joe Bartolozzi stutters at the elbow, the defender bites on it, and now there is nothing but open floor between him and the rim. OHHHH, the cylinder rejects the tiktoker! Somewhere a whole workplace just yelled at a television.

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Los Angeles Nursing-Home with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

Halftime! Myrtle Wilson has the hardwood pattern imprinted on her elbow. Staff confession: Myrtle Wilson is afraid of pigeons. Not 7-foot centers, no. Pigeons. And now, our halftime TV game show Briefcase Roulette! To win a portable radio that only picks up farm reports, text HOOPS to 555-0561 and answer this question: 'How many towels does a bench player go through during a blowout?' Back on the court. The coach changed the starting five, that'll be a surprise.

The defender crowded the middle, and Myrtle Wilson punished him along the baseline like it was drawn up in the huddle. Straight back to the office for the player, and the group chat has already seen it twice.

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

Ricky Ponting rides the ball handler all the way up the floor and finally puts a forearm in his back. Officials blow it dead.

The offense stalls, Ricky Ponting gets stuck on the wing with no exit and nobody flashing open, and the shot clock eats him alive.

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

Active hands, quiet stat sheet. Joe Bartolozzi has been poking at everything that moves for two straight quarters. That outlet from Ricky Ponting is a weapon, it turns a defensive stop into two points in about three seconds. BAAAANG! Myrtle Wilson throws the outlet ahead and Morty Smith finishes through contact at the rim!

Morty Smith steps over the defender who ended up on the floor and keeps walking, never looks down. Cold as a meat locker. The building erupts twice, once for the bucket and once for the disrespect. The replay gets its own dedicated camera angle.

George Floyd rips it back into the stepback and suddenly there is a country mile between him and that defender. BAAAANG! George Floyd gets hammered, banks it in anyway, and here comes the bonus.

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

George Floyd crosses, crosses back, the defender slides half a step the wrong way and the whole arena lets out the same OHHHH. That is twice tonight George Floyd has tried to create with the dribble already dead, and this league does not reward that.

George Floyd grabs him before the ball even crosses half court. Intentional, obvious, and completely necessary.

Morty Smith's lip is trembling. Ricky Ponting dodges the cameras by pulling up his hood. And here is the answer to our game show Briefcase Roulette! Ardith Sprague of Chicken Wing, Illinois, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many towels does a bench player go through during a blowout?' The answer was of course nine, and one of them is purely decorative. Ardith therefore wins a portable radio that only picks up farm reports! My evening? I spent it holding back tears. Of joy? Of exhaustion? Both. That's a wrap for tonight. Coming up: 'The Amazing Race: Subway Line 13.' Viewer discretion advised.

Matchday 7 — vs Toronto Border-Patrol

74-118 (L)

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

Toronto Border-Patrol again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

Set called, Joe Bartolozzi waved out to the corner, and George Floyd watches the spacing open up like a front door. OHHHH the pocket pass! Joe Bartolozzi splits the coverage and the roll man is loose under the basket! That is a dime from Joe Bartolozzi that deserved so much better, and Myrtle Wilson knows it, head down, jogging back before the ball even lands.

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

That is the third body Ricky Ponting has turned away this quarter, and the entire lane is starting to think twice about coming in. One hand, full court, Ricky Ponting hits Joe Bartolozzi in stride and the crowd is already up. The tiktoker just outran an entire defense for the finish, and he clocks in for a shift in the morning. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

Slow walk, no expression. Joe Bartolozzi backpedals past the Toronto Border-Patrol 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.

Players head to the locker room. Ricky Ponting has tape on three fingers. Juicy anecdote: Ricky Ponting was caught dancing the Macarena in the showers. Alone. And now, our halftime TV game show Shark Tank of Guppies! To win a hand-stitched quilt featuring nine unrecognizable presidents, text HOOPS to 555-0138 and answer this question: 'How many miles per gallon does a zamboni get?' Let's go, we're back. The crowd claps in rhythm.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Toronto Border-Patrol, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

George Floyd walks it up, two fingers in the air, and the whole offense shifts on his command. The cricket trainer just ran that two-man game like he has a decade of film on it. Somebody get this man a contract. Rim out for Morty Smith, the crowd came up and sat right back down, and you can hear the groan from every corner of the arena.

The player makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. That hesitation move is exactly why they keep sending a second body at Ricky Ponting the moment he crosses half court. Getting to his spot and elevating, Ricky Ponting puts it on the back iron, up over the front, and out. Half a rotation from two points.

Give the man credit for the effort, because George Floyd contested that from three feet behind, which is technically a contest. The tiktoker swatted that one off the glass and handed over two free points. Somebody go over the cylinder rule at the next staff meeting.

No hero ball here: Myrtle Wilson takes what the defense gives and moves it along. Unselfish basketball. George Floyd passes up a good shot and hands Joe Bartolozzi a GREAT one. A cruel spin-out for the tiktoker, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Toronto Border-Patrol in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

This is the counter: George Floyd punished a defense that kept going under, and now they have to rip up the game plan. The cricket trainer just had his shot delivered into the courtside seats. Tough scene, but at least the day job is safe.

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

George Floyd launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Myrtle Wilson gives it up to Joe Bartolozzi on the move, the built-in screen erases the chase, and there is a clean runway to the rim. That is the shot Joe Bartolozzi wants every trip down the floor, it drops nine nights out of ten, and tonight is the tenth.

Whole huddle leaning in to hear it, and the plan is to hand the game to the player. Genius or madness, we are about to find out. OHHHH that is BEAUTIFUL basketball! George Floyd finishes the set and the whole bench is up.

Chest bump so violent that George Floyd and Ricky Ponting 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.

Ricky Ponting mutters 'damn' under his breath. Morty Smith says 'yeah' in the same tone. And here is the answer to our game Shark Tank of Guppies! Curtis Boggs of Hog Waller, Florida, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many miles per gallon does a zamboni get?' The answer was of course enough, and it does not care for the question. Curtis takes home a hand-stitched quilt featuring nine unrecognizable presidents! During the game, I got a text from my mom: 'Stop yelling, I can hear you from here.' She lives 120 miles away. That's all for tonight! Coming up: 'CSI: Underground Parking Garage.' Riveting stuff.

Matchday 8 — vs Minnesota Ice-Wall

73-118 (L)

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Myrtle Wilson just did it by hitting George Floyd on the back side with acres of room. Watch Joe Bartolozzi plant his feet, absorb the hit, and spring George Floyd out of that corner in a blink. Catching it right at the cup with nobody within eight feet, George Floyd goes up too strong and the ball rides high off the backboard.

Turnover, layup, Minnesota Ice-Wall straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Myrtle Wilson breaks a shell down. The cricket trainer pulls out the crossover of his life, and Monday morning he clocks in like nothing ever happened. Nobody expects touch like that from the cricket trainer, but that floater had more feel than half the starting guards in the league.

Shimmy from the corner all the way to half court, shoulders loose, chin high. Ricky Ponting is in no hurry whatsoever. The home bench tries to copy it and produces something closer to a seizure. The building decides it loves both versions equally.

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

Ball into George Floyd at the elbow, Myrtle Wilson plants his foot and goes backdoor, and the pass meets him in the air. Filthy. Fifth possession this half where Myrtle Wilson has been left to bail everybody out with the clock at zero. He cannot keep doing this alone.

First half is done. Myrtle Wilson is chugging Gatorade like it's water. Little secret: Myrtle Wilson has a secret TikTok account with 12 followers. Posts cooking tutorials. 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 to business. The players bounce around to warm up.

A scoreless four minutes and counting. The tiktoker is finding out the hard way that this league punishes tired legs. Twenty-four seconds expire with the ball glued to the player. Time management is apparently not part of that trade either.

Bucket for Minnesota Ice-Wall. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

You want basketball IQ? Ask the player, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. You could hear the whole building groan, and Morty Smith knew it the second the ball left his fingers, already jogging back on defense.

George Floyd gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Myrtle Wilson saw it a beat early. Myrtle Wilson sets the pick and DIVES to the cup. George Floyd lays it right on his hands in traffic! Myrtle Wilson rises up from fifteen feet and OHHHH, that rattled in and OUT!

Eight seconds off the shot clock and George Floyd has not wasted one of them, the ball reaching Ricky Ponting precisely where the play wanted it. One little shoulder dip from Ricky Ponting and the guy guarding him turned into a traffic cone in real time. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Two points in every gym in America except this one, and Ricky Ponting is walking back with both hands on his head.

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

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Myrtle Wilson threw it before the help even committed. You can teach the jumper, you cannot teach the willingness, and George Floyd gives up a decent shot every single time a better one exists. BRICK! Joe Bartolozzi throws up a prayer and the iron sends it straight back out to half court!

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Minnesota Ice-Wall with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

That is a foot speed problem. George Floyd keeps grabbing instead of sliding, and in this league that gets your coach a miserable night. Nothing but trouble ahead for George Floyd. Third foul, and this crew is calling it tight on both ends of the floor.

The coach just drew up the biggest play of the night for the tiktoker, a sentence I did not expect to say out loud this evening. Sixty seconds in the huddle and Morty Smith cashes it without a single wasted dribble. Textbook.

Morty Smith hurls his mouthguard into the trash. Ricky Ponting keeps his in, chewing on the frustration. 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! On my end, the AC in the booth broke down. I sweated more than Ricky Ponting. See you at the next game. In the meantime: 'MasterClass: How to Fold a Fitted Sheet.' Gripping television.

Matchday 9 — vs Houston Blast-Off

80-115 (L)

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

Laser from George Floyd, corner to corner, and that closeout gets there about a second and a half too late. POCKET PASS! Joe Bartolozzi threads it to Ricky Ponting between two bodies and the rim is wide open! Soft touch from Ricky Ponting, the floater drops right over the big man. Cash.

Myrtle Wilson kicks it over to Ricky Ponting, no dribble, no drama, and this offense settles into a rhythm. George Floyd eats the contact so Ricky Ponting can run free along the baseline, and the catch-and-shoot look is right there. Pull-up from the elbow by Ricky Ponting, halfway down, spinning inside the iron, and it pops right back out.

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

GONE down the baseline! Myrtle Wilson beat him on the first step and the paint is collapsing. Nobody touched him, nobody trapped him, and Myrtle Wilson still coughed it up. Easiest whistle these officials will blow all night.

Rest time. George Floyd isolates in a corner of the locker room, headphones on. Did you know? George Floyd tried to become a rapper before basketball. The world dodged a bullet. And now, our halftime TV game show Press Your Luck Harder! To win a bumper sticker collection covering one entire tailgate, text HOOPS to 555-0362 and answer this question: 'In what year was the jump ball invented by accident during a barn raising?' We're back! The players look fired up.

Houston Blast-Off again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Myrtle Wilson threw it before the help even committed. OHHHH the pin-down! Morty Smith pops out clean while the defender is STILL tangled up with Myrtle Wilson. Brutal. Stuck holding it as the clock bleeds out, Morty Smith fades away from twenty-six feet, and it is not close.

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

The box score will show nothing at all for the revolutionary, just a ruined shot and a shooter who will remember that wall all night. The pass is the play here. Myrtle Wilson never even puts the ball on the floor, he just throws it and lets the runners eat. Put him on skates, then put him on a POSTER. Joe Bartolozzi owns the highlight reel tonight.

Golf swing follow-through, perfect form, Joe Bartolozzi 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.

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Joe Bartolozzi has known that all night long. Left, right, gone. Morty Smith put that defender on skates and never even looked back. Soft off the fingertips, the ball takes a full lap of the rim on Morty Smith, and spits straight back out. That is theft.

From WAY downtown off the pop! George Floyd with the extra pass and CASH. The player launched one from the logo as the horn sounded. In fairness, nobody in that huddle gave him a better option.

That timeline has not moved all night, but Ricky Ponting keeps forgetting where they painted it. Second one of the quarter.

That is a charge on Myrtle Wilson, and you can hear the groan roll around every level of this building.

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

Total control. George Floyd has this thing on a string. Full stop, full sprint, and the revolutionary is in the paint! Nobody back at the workplace is going to believe this one. Two on the shot clock and the ball ends up with the revolutionary, which is how you get a twenty-eight footer off the wrong foot.

Myrtle Wilson stares at the floor while Joe Bartolozzi mutters something inaudible under his breath. And here is the answer to our game show Press Your Luck Harder! Bobbi Sue Yarborough of Sawmill Bottom, Georgia, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'In what year was the jump ball invented by accident during a barn raising?' The answer was of course 1871, in a hayloft, by two men arguing about a rooster. Bobbi Sue therefore wins a bumper sticker collection covering one entire tailgate! My wife texted me: 'when are you coming home?' I said 'after the game.' That was two hours ago. Good night everyone! Up next: 'Worst Cooks in America: Boiling an Egg Without Breaking It.' Challenge accepted.

Matchday 10 — vs Denver Horse-Track

78-122 (L)

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and George Floyd drops it off to Myrtle Wilson on time and on target. Screened, toasted, done. Myrtle Wilson is loose and the defense is scrambling to find him. The big man never even contested it, and Myrtle Wilson still could not get the runner to drop. That one is on him.

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

Watch the spacing there, George Floyd hits Ricky Ponting right in the shooting pocket and the possession stays alive. Screen, hesitation, delivery, Ricky Ponting drops it off perfectly for Morty Smith diving to the rim. The revolutionary just put somebody on a POSTER! That defender is going to see this clip for the rest of his life!

Ice in the veins: Morty Smith taps two fingers on his wrist, slow and cold, while the horn is still fading. Courtside is standing on the chairs. The visiting bench does not move an inch. Somebody in the second row has already turned it into a T-shirt.

George Floyd holds it, waits, waits some more, then lets it go at the last possible instant to Myrtle Wilson flying by. That is a half-second window and he threads it. No touch. Myrtle Wilson left the soft hands in the locker room tonight. George Floyd SKIES for it! Extra life for this offense. Up over the box out, and George Floyd catches it clean and finishes strong through the contact. Somebody just got posterized.

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

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

Break! Morty Smith rips his shoes off the second he reaches the locker room. Physio's confession: Morty Smith purrs when you massage his calves. Like a cat. A big cat. 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?' We're back at it. The crowd had time to reload at the snack bar.

Clean feed from Joe Bartolozzi, nothing forced, just the offense breathing. Look how low George Floyd keeps that shoulder on the drive, that is how you turn a sliver of space into a walk to the rim. Ricky Ponting threads a BEAUTY to George Floyd under the rim and... he lays it off the bottom of the iron! Ohhhh, no.

OHHHH, what a read by Joe Bartolozzi! He never even glanced at the rim and it is CASH on the other end. Myrtle Wilson blows the wide open layup!

Turnover, layup, Denver Horse-Track straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

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! Two hands on the ball, then a fresh bounce. Somewhere a youth coach is watching the revolutionary and quietly turning off the TV.

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

Every single possession of that stretch goes through the cricket trainer. Whatever the day job pays, it is not enough for this. They are burning a timeout on the tiktoker! Somewhere in that huddle a whiteboard is getting erased in a real hurry.

That is the pass that beats a zone, and George Floyd threw it before the help even committed. The cricket trainer pulls out the crossover of his life, and Monday morning he clocks in like nothing ever happened. A cruel spin-out for the cricket trainer, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Denver Horse-Track, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

Nobody dribbled, nobody isolated, Myrtle Wilson and Joe Bartolozzi just played basketball and the defense got shredded. Blocked into the floor. Myrtle Wilson will be seeing that one in his sleep.

OHHHH the tension! Nobody is sitting, nobody is blinking, all of it rides on Joe Bartolozzi. Freeze it right there: leather glued to the fingers of Joe Bartolozzi, horn already screaming. No basket.

Joe Bartolozzi refuses the coach's embrace. George Floyd accepts it but his body is stiff. 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! Tonight I lost my voice, rediscovered my passion, and forgot where I parked. A complete evening. Alright, good night! Up next: 'Planet Earth: Exploring the World from My Couch.' Immersive documentary.

Matchday 11 — vs New York Over-Timers

83-128 (L)

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

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Myrtle Wilson makes it every single trip down the floor. Joe Bartolozzi comes flying off that screen and he is WIDE open! The tiktoker just spun through two defenders and reversed that in. Nothing about this is a normal Tuesday!

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

Ohhh no. Corner three, New York Over-Timers in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Here comes the slip from Myrtle Wilson, and George Floyd reads it a half second before anybody else in the building. That is the shot chart lying to you. Myrtle Wilson did everything right on this possession and has zero points to show for it.

Foul on the three-point shooter, and it is George Floyd. The coach is off the bench with both arms out. Fourth personal on George Floyd. The arena groans, the bench goes silent, and the other team just spotted daylight.

Back to the locker room. Morty Smith punches his locker. Locker room intel: Morty Smith has a tattoo of a basketball hoop on his butt. That's commitment. And now, our halftime TV game show Spin the Wheel Slowly! To win a coffee table book about drainage ditches of the Midwest, text HOOPS to 555-1159 and answer this question: 'How many seconds does it take to lose a lead of thirty points?' Act two! The bench players are fired up, the starters too.

New York Over-Timers again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

Working him at the top of the key, low dribble, low dribble, then George Floyd rips it across and his man lunges at a ghost. George Floyd rises, the big man rises higher, and the shot is stuffed into the second row. Return to sender.

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

George Floyd hands it off to Morty Smith, slices through the seam, and the return pass is sitting there waiting at the rim. Ambition, ten out of ten. Footwork, two out of ten. George Floyd beat himself before the defender ever showed up.

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

The player just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. Baseline spin from George Floyd at full speed, and his man never even gets a hand into the picture. Filthy stuff. OHHHHH FROM THE LOGO! George Floyd pulls up from another area code and it is PURE!

The noise climbs past whatever the building was engineered for, and George Floyd uses it to kneel down and retie a shoe that was already tied. Double knot, no hurry, eyes on the laces. Myrtle Wilson stands over him like a bodyguard while somewhere down there a coach calls a play into a hurricane and loses.

You can teach a lot of things at this level, but not lateral quickness. Joe Bartolozzi is doing a fine traffic cone impression. Whistle! Ricky Ponting gets him on the arm. Personal foul, nothing clever about it.

More second chance points for New York Over-Timers, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

No roll this time. George Floyd swings it right back to Myrtle Wilson above the break, and it is PURE. AROUND the cylinder and OUT! Myrtle Wilson cannot believe it, and neither can this building.

Not pretty, but this is arithmetic now. Joe Bartolozzi trades one foul for one more possession, and down five with a minute left, that math works.

George Floyd turns back to look at the court one last time. Myrtle Wilson doesn't turn around. And here is the answer to our game show Spin the Wheel Slowly! Elouise Tackett of Chigger Bottom, Massachusetts, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many seconds does it take to lose a lead of thirty points?' The answer was of course four hundred and ten seconds, provided everybody cooperates. Elouise therefore wins a coffee table book about drainage ditches of the Midwest! I spent this game nervously chewing gum. I'm on my seventh piece. Until next time! Up next: 'Life Unplugged: A Day Without WiFi.' A shocking documentary.

Matchday 12 — vs Cleveland Twin-Towers

84-129 (L)

The opposing star hits a filthy one over two hands, and Joe Bartolozzi simply walks it up the floor and matches it. No celebration, no words, just the answer.

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Myrtle Wilson threw it before the help even committed. Court vision like that on the cricket trainer is absurd. Whatever the day job pays him, the assist numbers say he is badly underpriced. OHHHH, that one died in the air! George Floyd put nothing into it and the front rim eats the floater.

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

Personal foul on the cricket trainer. Somewhere a shift is going uncovered and not one soul in this arena cares. Ricky Ponting slides in late on the drive, the official punches the fourth, and the coach is already waving for a sub.

The tiktoker just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Ricky Ponting whips that pass one-handed on the move and the roll man gathers it through contact. Filthy. Two guys on the exact same page, George Floyd and Joe Bartolozzi, and the defense is left holding a bag of nothing. That little shot is what keeps guards employed in this league, and George Floyd has it on a string tonight.

Back to the locker room. Myrtle Wilson punches her locker. Anecdote: Myrtle Wilson tried to impress the Cleveland Twin-Towers players with a warm-up dunk. Hit the rim. With her face. And now, our halftime TV game show Fear Factor Lite! To win a scented candle that smells exactly like a bowling alley, text HOOPS to 555-0402 and answer this question: 'What is the wind speed inside a ceiling fan?' Tipoff! The ball bounces, the arena vibrates, we're back.

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

Not a bad shot, not a blocked shot, just no shot at all from Joe Bartolozzi. Somehow the worst outcome available.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Cleveland Twin-Towers, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

Total control. George Floyd has this thing on a string. Hard drive, hard stop, and Joe Bartolozzi retreats into an ocean of open hardwood. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! That was IN for Joe Bartolozzi!

Ooof. Ricky Ponting got put on SKATES right there. Arm across the body, whistle, dead ball. Reach on Ricky Ponting.

Cleveland Twin-Towers again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

Nobody moved, nobody cut, nobody set a screen, so Morty Smith launches a contested jumper with the horn already going. Ugly offense. Hustle play of the night so far. Ricky Ponting gave up his ribs for one extra possession and the bench is on its feet. Rebounding is effort, and effort is apparently what the cricket trainer does for a living. Second chance points, all guts.

Ricky Ponting gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Myrtle Wilson saw it a beat early. This is the work that never shows up on a stat sheet, Ricky Ponting gets the credit and the guy setting the screen gets the bruise. The cricket trainer had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

Dagger from Cleveland Twin-Towers. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

George Floyd felt it, the bench felt it, the arena felt it, and the rim felt absolutely nothing.

Ricky Ponting walks in slow motion, arms dangling. Myrtle Wilson speeds up. Wants it to be over. And here is the answer to our game Fear Factor Lite! Alvin Kluck of Cheese Ridge, Minnesota, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the wind speed inside a ceiling fan?' The answer was of course the same as outside it, only angrier. Alvin takes home a scented candle that smells exactly like a bowling alley! During the game, my colleague ordered sushi. It arrived at the final buzzer. Perfect timing. Thanks everyone. Up next: 'Survivor: Open-Plan Office.' Whoever makes it through the 5 PM meeting wins.

Matchday 13 — vs Boston Ring-Chasers

74-119 (L)

Ricky Ponting gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because George Floyd saw it a beat early. Pass, cut, catch, wide open. Four things in about a second and a half from Ricky Ponting. Ricky Ponting gets to his spot in the lane, lifts the runner over the big man, and leaves it a foot short. No dice.

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

Swing, swing, and George Floyd finds Morty Smith on the wing before the help can even turn its head. The beauty of it is that Morty Smith never has to set a screen at all, the exchange IS the screen. Nightmare to guard. Long and gone. George Floyd floats the teardrop over everything and bangs it off the back iron.

The tiktoker just threaded a pocket pass through two defenders. Where exactly did that vision come from? Missed layup for the cricket trainer and the whole arena groans as one. Great hands in the day job, apparently they do not travel. The cricket trainer outworked everybody on the glass! Effort does not care what is printed on your business card. The cricket trainer just went up over everybody and put that miss back with two hands. That is a night he tells his grandkids about!

Nobody on the bench is sitting. Not the coaches, not the trainers, not the guy in the suit who never plays. Ricky Ponting points at all of them at once with both hands. Towels come down like weather and the officials wait it out with the patience of the doomed.

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.

Rest. Ricky Ponting buries his head in a wet towel and doesn't move. Juicy intel: Ricky Ponting turned down an endorsement deal because he'd have to wear a mascot costume. And now, our halftime TV game show The Gong Show Is Broken! To win a fishing rod with no reel and a badly bent tip, text HOOPS to 555-0781 and answer this question: 'How long is one minute during the fourth quarter?' There they are. The coach must have found the right words.

OHHHH that is filthy! George Floyd on the handoff and the man guarding it is still fighting over the top. The player had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

Everybody in the arena knew the stepback was coming from Joe Bartolozzi, and not one single soul could do anything about it. Down, up, and gone for Joe Bartolozzi. The rim is just toying with him now.

SPIN and GO! Joe Bartolozzi pirouettes right through the traffic and comes out the other side clean! Joe Bartolozzi beat the clock by a tenth of a second and missed by about four feet. Technically legal, competitively pointless.

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

Whole bench is up, the coach is redder than the jersey, and George Floyd is the only man out there keeping his head.

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

Oldest play in the book and it still works: Joe Bartolozzi passes, the defender peeks at the ball, and that one beat is the whole possession. Nobody drew up that arc. The tiktoker floated one halfway to the rafters, and the rim never even got a say.

OHHHH that is ROUGH. Morty Smith gets turned twice and hands it over without ever crossing the line.

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Boston Ring-Chasers with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

The player 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. Nobody put a body on George Floyd and he made them pay, tipping it to himself and coming down with two hands in the trees. Miss, tip, bucket. George Floyd makes his living in the wreckage.

Dunk so loud the backboard is still ringing when George Floyd lands. He stares down the front row like they owe him money. A man in a five-thousand-dollar seat drops his drink. Ricky Ponting drags George Floyd away by the jersey before it becomes an incident.

Morty Smith chews his nails on the bench. Myrtle Wilson stares at her shoes like they're the source of the problem. And here is the answer to our game show The Gong Show Is Broken! Gwendolyn Pyle of Half Moon Gulch, Montana, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How long is one minute during the fourth quarter?' The answer was of course somewhere between four and nineteen minutes, depending on the score. Gwendolyn therefore wins a fishing rod with no reel and a badly bent tip! I spent this game nervously chewing gum. I'm on my seventh piece. Thanks for tonight. Up next: 'American Ninja Warrior: No Elevator Edition.' Sixth floor, no landing.

Matchday 14 — vs San Antonio Skyscrapers

84-129 (L)

Technical on the player! He argues with people all day at work and loses those too, only this one costs a free throw. The official turns, the arms go up, the T is signaled, and Myrtle Wilson does not even wait for the escort.

A fistful of jersey to stop the break, and the bill comes due for George Floyd: two at the line plus possession.

Bucket for San Antonio Skyscrapers. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Ball up the floor, change of speed right at the logo, and George Floyd already has the defense a full step behind. That is the third time tonight Joe Bartolozzi has cut behind the same shoulder, and nobody on that bench has fixed it yet. Count it AND the foul! Joe Bartolozzi refused to be denied at the rim.

One little shoulder dip from George Floyd and the guy guarding him turned into a traffic cone in real time. Stuck out on the perimeter with no outlet, George Floyd panics, re-dribbles, and hands the possession over on a silver platter.

Halftime! Ricky Ponting has the hardwood pattern imprinted on his elbow. Did you know Ricky Ponting started basketball because he was terrible at soccer? Sometimes failure leads to greatness. And now, our halftime TV game show Let Us Make a Deal! To win a jar of pickles from 1997 with the label soaked clean off, text HOOPS to 555-0044 and answer this question: 'Why do referees always walk faster than everybody else in the building?' Break's over, time for basketball. Let's go.

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

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Joe Bartolozzi breaks a shell down. Enough room out there to set up a lawn chair, and the cricket trainer made it himself. Total professional, in a completely unrelated profession. Joe Bartolozzi whips the extra pass across the arc, Ricky Ponting rises without a dribble, and SPLASH.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, San Antonio Skyscrapers, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

No hero ball here: Joe Bartolozzi takes what the defense gives and moves it along. Screen, roll, DELIVERY from Morty Smith! Nothing but runway to the rim! Rising into two defenders, Joe Bartolozzi launches a jumper that finds nothing but backboard and bad decisions.

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

The revolutionary fouled a shooter behind the arc. Three free throws, and a timeout that is going to be extremely unpleasant. The revolutionary is a single whistle from disqualification and he is STILL sliding his feet into the paint. Courage or a very bad week at work.

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

SKIP PASS! Myrtle Wilson fires it cross court to Joe Bartolozzi and the defense is dead in the water! The extra pass! Joe Bartolozzi had the look, gave it up anyway, and Morty Smith buries it. BANG! The revolutionary tried the teardrop and never got it to the rim. Turns out soft touch does not come standard with that day job.

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Myrtle Wilson makes it every single trip down the floor. Right through the window. George Floyd to Ricky Ponting on the roll, and the help was a half step late. A cruel spin-out for the cricket trainer, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

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

Morty Smith clenches his left fist, unclenches, clenches again. George Floyd fidgets with his wristband nervously. And here is the answer to our game Let Us Make a Deal! Herschel Bumgarner of Two Silos, Nebraska, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'Why do referees always walk faster than everybody else in the building?' The answer was of course because somewhere in that building there is a sandwich with their name on it. Herschel takes home a jar of pickles from 1997 with the label soaked clean off! Final confession: I still don't know how to pronounce Morty Smith's name. Forgive me. Off to bed! Or stay for 'Real Housewives of the DMV.' The line is around the block.

Matchday 15 — vs Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest

73-117 (L)

Cold blooded from Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Another board lost, and the revolutionary is finding out that boxing out never came up in the training manual.

Head down, no read, no plan. Ricky Ponting bulldozes the help defender and gives away a possession for absolutely nothing.

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

That is the pass that beats a zone, and George Floyd threw it before the help even committed. A cut with that timing from the revolutionary? He is on the clock somewhere else all week and he still found time to learn the two-man game. From eight feet Morty Smith puts way too much on it, and the ball clears the rim entirely.

Halftime! Morty Smith has the hardwood pattern imprinted on his elbow. Anecdote: Morty Smith slipped on a banana peel during practice. The videos leaked. The internet never forgets. And now, our halftime TV game show The Gong Show Is Broken! To win a fishing rod with no reel and a badly bent tip, text HOOPS to 555-0781 and answer this question: 'How long is one minute during the fourth quarter?' Back in action! The coach got the message across.

Ricky Ponting sets it and slides out instead of rolling, George Floyd finds him late, and the defense pays for cheating under the screen. Buzzer on the shot clock, Ricky Ponting heaves it off one leg, and the ball comes up short of everything.

Myrtle Wilson gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because George Floyd saw it a beat early. Kick out to Myrtle Wilson, one more to Morty Smith, splash from the wing and this bench is on its feet. Third one of these from Morty Smith this quarter, third time the arc is wrong. The lane is not open real estate anymore.

Total control. George Floyd has this thing on a string. 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 Myrtle Wilson does. A jump hook over a grown professional defender, from the player? That is the most unexpected fundamentals clinic of the night.

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

Slap across the wrist, and the crew saw every bit of it. Joe Bartolozzi pays for that one.

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.

Over the top of everybody. George Floyd to Morty Smith in the corner, wide open, catch and rise. Pass, cut, catch, wide open. Four things in about a second and a half from Morty Smith. Two points left on the floor by Morty Smith, and those are exactly the ones that come back to bite you in the fourth.

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

The player just ran a give and go to perfection on national television! Somebody go tell his boss what he does after hours! Watch the feet on Myrtle Wilson there, still drifting sideways at the release, and that is exactly why the floater sails wide left of everything. Second-chance points are how you steal games on the road, and Myrtle Wilson has now cleaned up four misses tonight. The whole possession dies right there without Myrtle Wilson on the offensive glass, and instead it becomes the two easiest points of the quarter.

Myrtle Wilson pretends to check a watch that is not on his wrist, taps it, then shows it to the arena. Time is up. Joe Bartolozzi mimes an enormous yawn. The visiting coach is shouting at officials who have no jurisdiction over sarcasm.

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 defender planted his feet, and Morty Smith said thank you very much and drove straight through his front pocket. The revolutionary 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.

Myrtle Wilson clenches her left fist, unclenches, clenches again. George Floyd fidgets with his wristband nervously. And here is the answer to our game show The Gong Show Is Broken! Gwendolyn Pyle of Half Moon Gulch, Montana, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How long is one minute during the fourth quarter?' The answer was of course somewhere between four and nineteen minutes, depending on the score. Gwendolyn therefore wins a fishing rod with no reel and a badly bent tip! During the break, I tried to juggle three balls. My cameraman filmed everything. It'll come out someday. Alright, good night! Up next: 'Planet Earth: Exploring the World from My Couch.' Immersive documentary.