My dream starting five — basketball_team 🇺🇸

Matchday 1 — vs Detroit Engine-Roar

74-116 (L)

Turnover, layup, Detroit Engine-Roar straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Donald Trump launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Jesus Christ attacks the baseline and the ENTIRE defense has to rotate behind him! BANG is what Jesus Christ was hearing in his head. Clang is what this building actually got.

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

Clean feed from Donald Trump, nothing forced, just the offense breathing. Hard drive, hard stop, and Jesus Christ retreats into an ocean of open hardwood. Runner in the lane by Jesus Christ, high off the fingertips, straight down through the net. Splash!

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

Back to the locker room. LeBron James's shorts are torn but he couldn't care less. Did you know LeBron James keeps a photo of his dog in his right shoe? It's a Bichon. 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?' Let's go. The arena rumbles, the players answer.

From WAY downtown off the pop! Donald Trump with the extra pass and CASH. Straight back to the office for the scientist, and the group chat has already seen it twice.

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

Set called, Eric Cartman waved out to the corner, and Donald Trump watches the spacing open up like a front door. One little shoulder dip from Eric Cartman and the guy guarding him turned into a traffic cone in real time. Missed layup for the school student and the whole arena groans as one. Great hands in the day job, apparently they do not travel.

GONE down the baseline! Eric Cartman beat him on the first step and the paint is collapsing. The school student 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.

Total control. Donald Trump has this thing on a string. Baseline spin from LeBron James at full speed, and his man never even gets a hand into the picture. Filthy stuff. LeBron James went for the deep heat check and produced the loudest silence of the night, roar to OHHHH in half a second.

Ice in his veins for a guy who answers to investor the rest of the week. Professional shot, amateur resume. A cruel spin-out for the messiah, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

Hulk kicks it over to Jesus Christ, no dribble, no drama, and this offense settles into a rhythm. The messiah just created his own space with a stepback. Somewhere a scout is spitting coffee all over his notepad. The messiah 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.

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

Give and go! Eric Cartman gives it up, cuts, and gets it right back with a clear lane to the cup! The big man never even contested it, and Eric Cartman still could not get the runner to drop. That one is on him. You want to know why this team keeps winning the possession battle? Jesus Christ treats every miss like it belongs to him. Up over the box out, and Jesus Christ catches it clean and finishes strong through the contact. Somebody just got posterized.

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

Oh, Jesus Christ wanted to be heard. Congratulations, he was heard. Free throw the other way.

Eric Cartman avoids the cameras like the plague. Donald Trump gets caught. Just says 'we'll be better'. 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 the evening standing up and sitting down every thirty seconds. My Fitbit is congratulating me. That's a wrap! And now, the network's masterpiece: 'My Cat, My Battle.' Don't miss the finale.

Matchday 2 — vs Miami Heart-Attack

101-109 (L)

The investor makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. Hang time like that on the scientist? You do not pick that up on the day job, folks. Absolutely ridiculous.

Follow the ball there: four sets of hands, Hulk makes the last read, and the defense never gets set. That is training camp offense. Buzzer on the shot clock, Jesus Christ heaves it off one leg, and the ball comes up short of everything.

Donald Trump hands it off to LeBron James, slices through the seam, and the return pass is sitting there waiting at the rim. The investor 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.

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

Over the top of everybody. Hulk to Eric Cartman in the corner, wide open, catch and rise. Eric Cartman feels the contact, spins off that shoulder, and the defender is left hugging a whole lot of nothing. Up goes the shot from Eric Cartman and that is nothing but AIR, and every soul in this building saw it happen.

That's a cut. Eric Cartman stumbles slightly reaching the locker room. Anecdote: Eric Cartman fell asleep on the bench during an exhibition game. Still got named MVP. 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?' Back at it! The players jog toward center court.

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

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Eric Cartman threw it before the help even committed. That crossover was not about getting a shot up. Hulk pulled it out to tell everybody in the gym whose possession this is. Rim out for Hulk, the crowd came up and sat right back down, and you can hear the groan from every corner of the arena.

Over and back on the school student, who just lost a possession to a painted line. No defender required.

A single dribble is all Hulk needed to get downhill, and the back side of that defense is in complete disarray. Wide open at the top of the key and Hulk cannot make it count, the defense secures the board and takes off in transition.

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

OHHHH the separation! Eric Cartman just manufactured three feet of daylight out of absolutely nothing. OHHHH, that one died in the air! Eric Cartman put nothing into it and the front rim eats the floater. Nobody put a body on Hulk and he made them pay, tipping it to himself and coming down with two hands in the trees. BAAAANG! Hulk rips the offensive board and puts it right back through!

Enough room out there to set up a lawn chair, and the school student made it himself. Total professional, in a completely unrelated profession. Rim, backboard, none of the above from the school student! Ladies and gentlemen, that is a person with a real job, and we have all just been reminded 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.

Ball moves. Eric Cartman to Hulk, on time and on target. Hulk gives it up to Donald Trump on the move, the built-in screen erases the chase, and there is a clean runway to the rim. Third look from distance for Donald Trump tonight and the arc keeps flattening out, tired legs writing checks the jumper cannot cash.

Eric Cartman takes a sip of water and spits it right back out. Jesus Christ doesn't drink. Throat too tight. 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! On my end, the AC in the booth broke down. I sweated more than Jesus Christ. That's a wrap! And now, the network's masterpiece: 'My Cat, My Battle.' Don't miss the finale.

Matchday 3 — vs Orlando Magic-Beans

79-116 (L)

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

Full stop, full sprint, and the school student is in the paint! Nobody back at the workplace is going to believe this one. Somebody check that job title again: the school student hanging in the air like the paint owes him rent, and finishing anyway.

Eric Cartman 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.

Active hands, quiet stat sheet. Donald Trump has been poking at everything that moves for two straight quarters. One hand, full court, Hulk hits Donald Trump in stride and the crowd is already up. There is no finesse in that, and there does not need to be. Donald Trump simply decided the paint belonged to him.

Blowing smoke off two fingers like a gunslinger, Donald Trump holsters them in his waistband. Hulk plays dead on the baseline. The mascot joins the bit uninvited. A referee has to physically separate a celebration from an inbound play.

Orlando Magic-Beans again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Eric Cartman has known that all night long. The scientist just ran a give and go to perfection on national television! Somebody go tell his boss what he does after hours! Hulk blows the wide open layup!

Break. LeBron James's socks are soaking wet — quick change on the spot. Rumor has it LeBron James tried to recruit the pizza delivery guy for the team. The guy was 6'9". And now, our halftime TV game show Whistle While You Guess! To win a five year supply of individually wrapped mints from a bank lobby, text HOOPS to 555-1291 and answer this question: 'How many times does a referee blink during a single overtime period?' Let's go. The arena rumbles, the players answer.

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

You want basketball IQ? Ask the school student, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. LeBron James holds it, waits, waits some more, then lets it go at the last possible instant to Hulk flying by. That is a half-second window and he threads it. The scientist had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Orlando Magic-Beans in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Illegal screen on LeBron James. All that effort, and the reward is a whistle and a long walk back on defense.

Two defenders collide on the handoff and Eric Cartman is gone, so Donald Trump earned that one even if the box score disagrees. The gather was clean, the decision after it was not. Eric Cartman had a live pivot foot and threw it away for a bounce he did not need.

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

Shot clock down to two, Hulk throws up a prayer from twenty six feet, and it is not answered. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! LeBron James dribbles it out at the top of the key and never even looks at the basket.

Eight seconds off the shot clock and Donald Trump has not wasted one of them, the ball reaching Hulk precisely where the play wanted it. OHHHH the hesi! Hulk froze him solid and he is already gone! Hulk had that one all the way, perfect release, perfect arc, and the rim simply refuses to let it drop.

The scientist makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. Screened, toasted, done. LeBron James is loose and the defense is scrambling to find him. AIRBALL! LeBron James missed the rim, the backboard and everything in between!

Chased down from behind and wrapped up before he can get into his dribble, all courtesy of Donald Trump. Here comes the free throw parade.

Jesus Christ walks in slow motion, arms dangling. Eric Cartman speeds up. Wants it to be over. And here is the answer to our game show Whistle While You Guess! Wilma Jean Puckett of Sorghum Switch, Kansas, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many times does a referee blink during a single overtime period?' The answer was of course exactly 1,412 times, and 1,413 if the arena air conditioning is broken. Wilma Jean therefore wins a five year supply of individually wrapped mints from a bank lobby! My wife texted me: 'when are you coming home?' I said 'after the game.' That was two hours ago. This was your favorite commentator. Coming up: 'Extreme Makeover: Garage Edition.' Don't change the channel. Or do.

Matchday 4 — vs Philadelphia Injury-Report

93-102 (L)

OHHHH he SNATCHED that tip! LeBron James rips it out of the air and we are off.

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

That is a forced shot from the school student that was doomed the moment it left the hand, and the bench has quietly decided to look at the floor for a moment. The scientist outworked everybody on the glass! Effort does not care what is printed on your business card. The scientist just made the extra pass with a clean look of his own! You do not run into that kind of selflessness at the office! The ball skips around the perimeter, Eric Cartman finds the open man on the weak side, and LeBron James buries it.

LeBron James sets an invisible crown on his own head, adjusts it twice, and carries the thing off like it weighs forty pounds. The Philadelphia Injury-Report bench does not find it funny. Hulk pounds the crown down with one fist and steers him away before the technical arrives.

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

Eric Cartman did that, and now the loudest twelve people in this arena are all wearing the same uniform he is.

Halftime. Eric Cartman throws her towel on the floor walking in. Did you know Eric Cartman knits to unwind? Made a scarf in Philadelphia Injury-Report's colors. By accident, obviously. And now, our halftime TV game show Jeopar-Dee-Dee! To win a mounted singing bass that only knows half the song, text HOOPS to 555-0305 and answer this question: 'How much does a rumor weigh at sea level?' The buzzer calls the players. Time for the show, act II.

Hulk drives, draws two bodies, and swings it one more time to the corner. That is the pass nobody is required to make. LeBron James threads a BEAUTY to Donald Trump under the rim and... he lays it off the bottom of the iron! Ohhhh, no.

Cold blooded from Philadelphia Injury-Report, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Here is the part that never makes the highlight package: Donald Trump controlling tempo, burning clock, hunting the mismatch the second one shows up. A messiah breaking down a professional defender in front of a sold out house! Remember that day job, folks! OHHHH, Jesus Christ from WAY downtown off the catch! The defense rotated a half second late and paid full price.

The too-small gesture, aimed straight at the Philadelphia Injury-Report bench, both hands measuring an inch of air. Their coach is out of his chair and onto the officials. Jesus Christ keeps the pose, unblinking, backpedaling all the way. The arena hits a decibel level that clips the broadcast mics.

A probe, a plant of the outside foot, and Donald Trump pushes off while his man is still fighting to recover his balance. The investor misses absolutely everything, and honestly, the nerve to even attempt that shot deserves something. Not points. But something.

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

The extra pass! Hulk had the look, gave it up anyway, and Donald Trump buries it. BANG! Rim, backboard, none of the above from the investor! Ladies and gentlemen, that is a person with a real job, and we have all just been reminded of it.

Second shot clock violation of the half with Hulk holding it too long. Live possessions are too expensive to hand back like that.

Arm across the body, whistle, dead ball. Reach on Jesus Christ. OHHH that is a rotten one to pick up. Jesus Christ bumps a cutter out near the logo on a play that threatened nobody.

BAAAANG! Donald Trump sets the table and the pick-and-pop three goes down like somebody scripted it. Getting to his spot and elevating, Hulk puts it on the back iron, up over the front, and out. Half a rotation from two points.

Hulk has bags under his eyes that weren't there before the game. Eric Cartman has aged ten years in forty minutes. And here is the answer to our game Jeopar-Dee-Dee! Ludene Crabtree of Dry Creek Junction, Oklahoma, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How much does a rumor weigh at sea level?' The answer was of course a pound and a half, considerably more in humid weather. Ludene takes home a mounted singing bass that only knows half the song! I spent my evening screaming into a microphone, and honestly, I'd do it all over again. Good night! Up next: 'My 600-Lb Neighbor: He Makes Noise at 3 AM.' Shocking testimonies.

Matchday 5 — vs Phoenix No-Defense

75-119 (L)

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

Box-out from a grown man there. Jesus Christ seals, elevates and SNATCHES it out of the air with two hands. Jesus Christ grabs it, turns, and slings a one-hander three quarters of the floor. Filthy. Donald Trump rips the rebound and fires it up the sideline, Hulk catches in stride and kisses it off the glass.

One finger to the sky, held there, eyes closed in the middle of all that noise, and Hulk does not move. The arena figures it out and quiets for a beat. Jesus Christ puts a hand on his back and says nothing, then the sound comes back like a wave.

Bucket for Phoenix No-Defense. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Laser from Eric Cartman, corner to corner, and that closeout gets there about a second and a half too late. Watch the change of pace from Hulk, half speed into full speed in one step, and that is a blow-by every time. The scientist 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.

Watch the spacing there, Hulk hits Jesus Christ right in the shooting pocket and the possession stays alive. The messiah reads the screen perfectly, comes off shoulder to shoulder, and buys himself an open look. Veteran movement, rookie resume. Rim, backboard, none of the above from the messiah! Ladies and gentlemen, that is a person with a real job, and we have all just been reminded of it.

Back to the locker room. Jesus Christ's shorts are torn but he couldn't care less. Confession: Jesus Christ believes the away locker room is haunted. Refuses to go in alone. And now, our halftime TV game show Truth or Consequences of Turnovers! To win a doorbell that plays eleven seconds of a song nobody requested, text HOOPS to 555-0644 and answer this question: 'How many turnovers does it take to fill a standard laundry hamper?' Let's go. The arena rumbles, the players answer.

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

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! LeBron James chases the referee half the length of the floor and pays for it with a technical.

Two guys on the exact same page, Hulk and LeBron James, and the defense is left holding a bag of nothing. That is a shot selection problem, plain and simple. Hulk drove into three bodies and the help defender was waiting the whole way.

Oldest play in the book and it still works: Hulk passes, the defender peeks at the ball, and that one beat is the whole possession. Twenty-four seconds of standing around, and Hulk has to eat the last two of them. Possession wasted long before the shot went up.

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

Off the pin-down comes the scientist with nobody inside a zip code. Somebody out there knows how to use a screen, and it is not who you would guess. OHHHH! Hulk went up looking for a poster and came back down as the punchline.

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

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and Donald Trump drops it off to Hulk on time and on target. Beautiful pass by Hulk. Wrong jersey.

This is the work that never shows up on a stat sheet, Eric Cartman gets the credit and the guy setting the screen gets the bruise. Gift wrapped by Hulk, and Eric Cartman cannot finish the two footer. That one is going to sting.

First option: Eric Cartman. Everything else on that clipboard is decoration. Look at the spacing here, two shooters lifting to drag the help, and that leaves Donald Trump an easy read to Eric Cartman in the pocket. Chess.

Jesus Christ presses his forehead against the tunnel glass. Hulk walks right past without noticing. And here is the answer to our game show Truth or Consequences of Turnovers! Lorene Kirkpatrick of Broken Hoop, New Mexico, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many turnovers does it take to fill a standard laundry hamper?' The answer was of course nineteen, or four if they are the really big ones. Lorene therefore wins a doorbell that plays eleven seconds of a song nobody requested! Tonight I had a revelation: Hulk runs exactly like my neighbor when he misses the bus. We're done! And now: 'The Voice: Office Karaoke After Two Beers Edition.'

Matchday 6 — vs Los Angeles Nursing-Home

106-117 (L)

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

More second chance points for Los Angeles Nursing-Home, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

The scientist just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. The school student turns clean out of two bodies in the paint. That is nowhere in the job description and yet here we are. Rises, releases, and Eric Cartman sends the ball through the exact patch of sky where the rim is not.

Ball up the floor, change of speed right at the logo, and Donald Trump already has the defense a full step behind. SPIN and GO! Jesus Christ pirouettes right through the traffic and comes out the other side clean! Oh my. Jesus Christ did not even draw iron.

The investor is out here running a pro offense with hand signals, not one hint of panic, and he clocks in somewhere else in the morning. Jesus Christ rips it back into the stepback and suddenly there is a country mile between him and that defender. Long and gone. Jesus Christ floats the teardrop over everything and bangs it off the back iron.

Players head to the locker room. Donald Trump has tape on three fingers. Did you know Donald Trump plays better when it's raining outside? Even indoors. Go figure. 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?' The players are back. The court had time to dry, at least.

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

Somebody explain how the investor reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. 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 LeBron James does. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! That was IN for LeBron James!

The bench is up, the defender is begging for help, and Hulk keeps walking into the same spot and cashing. Hulk felt it, the bench felt it, the arena felt it, and the rim felt absolutely nothing.

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

Cross court, on a rope, from the school student. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. Beautiful footwork on that one from Jesus Christ, the pivot foot never budges, which is precisely why the whistle stays in the pocket. From WAY downtown! Jesus Christ launched that one from the parking lot!

One finger to the sky, held there, eyes closed in the middle of all that noise, and Jesus Christ does not move. The arena figures it out and quiets for a beat. Eric Cartman puts a hand on his back and says nothing, then the sound comes back like a wave.

The messiah just took a charge from a man twice his size and got up smiling. Absolute lunatic behavior, and we love it!

SKIP PASS! Eric Cartman fires it cross court to Donald Trump and the defense is dead in the water! The investor just froze a grown professional with a hesitation dribble. This man punches a clock and he is out here doing THAT. Straight through the traffic, straight through the contact. The investor finishes with a free throw coming and the paint suddenly feels very small.

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

Somebody explain how the investor reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Down screen, and Eric Cartman curls hard into the middle of the floor with a full step of daylight. Easy read. Rim, backboard, none of the above from the school student! Ladies and gentlemen, that is a person with a real job, and we have all just been reminded of it.

Jesus Christ is the last one off the court, shoulders hunched. Hulk waits at the tunnel entrance. 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! Your commentator lost his press badge during the game. I had to climb over a barrier. That's a wrap for tonight. Coming up: 'The Amazing Race: Subway Line 13.' Viewer discretion advised.

Matchday 7 — vs Toronto Border-Patrol

110-109 (W)

A cut with that timing from the investor? He is on the clock somewhere else all week and he still found time to learn the two-man game. Donald Trump catches on the wing, jab step, spin move, and that pivot foot comes clean off the hardwood. Traveling.

Donald Trump loses the handle with nobody inside of five feet of him, and that clip is going to live on the internet forever.

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

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

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Donald Trump makes it every single trip down the floor. The beauty of it is that Jesus Christ never has to set a screen at all, the exchange IS the screen. Nightmare to guard. Textbook footwork, textbook release from Hulk, cruel result as it spins out and both teams go up for a contested board.

Break. Eric Cartman asks the medical staff for coffee. Request denied. Fun fact: Eric Cartman failed the driving test three times. On the court it's a different story, thankfully. And now, our halftime TV game show Hollywood Squares Off! To win a punch card for a sandwich shop that stopped honoring punch cards, text HOOPS to 555-0431 and answer this question: 'Why do basketballs bounce higher when nobody is watching?' We pick up right where we left off. Time to play.

Donald Trump walks it up, two fingers in the air, and the whole offense shifts on his command. The defender planted his feet, and Hulk said thank you very much and drove straight through his front pocket. That is the shot chart lying to you. Hulk did everything right on this possession and has zero points to show for it.

The investor pops to the arc and buries it, and nobody in this building believes that man clocks in somewhere in the morning. Eric Cartman pump fakes, gets the defender airborne, and walks right into his chest. Free throws. Spin, one dribble, up and in. Then Eric Cartman does the whole thing again. Zero drama, two points.

Flexing under the basket, mouth wide open, Eric Cartman roars at nobody in particular. The sound carries over the crowd noise, which should be physically impossible. The referee waits with folded arms, like a substitute teacher who has seen considerably worse.

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

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

OHHHH he went BACKDOOR! Hulk never broke stride and he has the ball UNDER THE RIM! Off the back iron for Hulk, that one had all the distance and none of the accuracy, and the board goes the other way.

Push the pace! Donald Trump grabs it and hits Eric Cartman in stride before the defense can even match up. Jesus Christ just took a shoulder to the chest to buy Eric Cartman half a second, and half a second in this league is an eternity. The school student just put somebody on a POSTER! That defender is going to see this clip for the rest of his life!

Ball game on the line. Hulk. One trip. The scientist just buried a BUZZER BEATER to win the ballgame, and tomorrow morning he clocks in like none of this ever happened!

Hulk sprints to the sideline, hops onto the scorer's table and raises both fists. The stat crew grabs their laptops and security is already moving. A trainer hauls him down by the shorts before anybody gets fined. Worth it, obviously.

LeBron James and Jesus Christ chest bump so hard they each fly back three meters. And here is the answer to our game show Hollywood Squares Off! Harlan Prewitt of Muddy Boot, Mississippi, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'Why do basketballs bounce higher when nobody is watching?' The answer was of course that they are showing off for the ceiling. Harlan therefore wins a punch card for a sandwich shop that stopped honoring punch cards! Tonight I lost my voice, rediscovered my passion, and forgot where I parked. A complete evening. That's a wrap for tonight. Coming up: 'The Amazing Race: Subway Line 13.' Viewer discretion advised.

Matchday 8 — vs Minnesota Ice-Wall

88-131 (L)

Swing, swing, and Eric Cartman finds LeBron James on the wing before the help can even turn its head. Nobody is getting a hand near that. LeBron James has all the room in the world. LeBron James lets it FLY from way downtown and... front rim. Not this time.

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

This is the discipline that decides tight games. Jesus Christ has to step out and step back in, and everybody in this building knows it.

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

Whirl, and GONE! Eric Cartman leaves the defender grabbing at a jersey that stopped being there half a second ago. Every highlight show in the country runs that clip tonight, and unfortunately for Eric Cartman he is on the wrong end of it.

The players disappear into the tunnel. Hulk asks for an ice pack. Anecdote of the day: Hulk forgot his shorts on the last road trip. Played in borrowed shorts two sizes too big. And now, our halftime TV game show Fear Factor Free Throws! To win a truck bed liner for a truck nobody in the family owns, text HOOPS to 555-0952 and answer this question: 'How many miles does a coach pace during a close game?' The hardwood awaits. Here we go for the second half.

That hesitation move is exactly why they keep sending a second body at Eric Cartman the moment he crosses half court. Blocked into the floor. Eric Cartman will be seeing that one in his sleep.

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

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Eric Cartman just did it by hitting Jesus Christ on the back side with acres of room. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Jesus Christ put that man in a blender and the third row felt it! That is the shot Jesus Christ wants every trip down the floor, it drops nine nights out of ten, and tonight is the tenth.

You can teach the jumper, you cannot teach the willingness, and Donald Trump gives up a decent shot every single time a better one exists. BAAAANG! Hulk catches it and lets it FLY, nothing but net from the corner!

Flexing under the basket, mouth wide open, Hulk roars at nobody in particular. The sound carries over the crowd noise, which should be physically impossible. The referee waits with folded arms, like a substitute teacher who has seen considerably worse.

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

Nobody cut, nobody screened, and Donald Trump was still surveying the floor when the clock hit zero. That is a giveaway, plain and simple.

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

Here is the part that never makes the highlight package: Donald Trump controlling tempo, burning clock, hunting the mismatch the second one shows up. Eric Cartman stutters at the elbow, the defender bites on it, and now there is nothing but open floor between him and the rim. The school student 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.

Hulk gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Eric Cartman saw it a beat early. The scientist just ran a give and go to perfection on national television! Somebody go tell his boss what he does after hours! Hulk gets to his spot in the lane, lifts the runner over the big man, and leaves it a foot short. No dice.

Huddle is tight, marker squeaking on the board, and Hulk is already nodding before the coach finishes the sentence. OHHHH that is BEAUTIFUL basketball! Donald Trump finishes the set and the whole bench is up.

Flexing under the basket, mouth wide open, Donald Trump roars at nobody in particular. The sound carries over the crowd noise, which should be physically impossible. The referee waits with folded arms, like a substitute teacher who has seen considerably worse.

Jesus Christ snaps at the bench on his way out. Hulk says nothing, but his look says everything. And here is the answer to our game show Fear Factor Free Throws! Charlene Bumgarner of Hushpuppy Ridge, New Hampshire, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many miles does a coach pace during a close game?' The answer was of course two point six miles, all of it inside a nine foot box. Charlene therefore wins a truck bed liner for a truck nobody in the family owns! Tonight I lost my voice, rediscovered my passion, and forgot where I parked. A complete evening. Good night everyone! Up next: 'Worst Cooks in America: Boiling an Egg Without Breaking It.' Challenge accepted.

Matchday 9 — vs Houston Blast-Off

86-129 (L)

No hero ball here: Hulk takes what the defense gives and moves it along. Watch Jesus Christ plant his feet, absorb the hit, and spring Donald Trump out of that corner in a blink. Reverse layup by Donald Trump, using the rim as a shield the whole way through. A circus act wrapped around textbook footwork.

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

That is the kind of giveaway you can only hand over yourself, and Donald Trump has now done it twice in this quarter alone.

Eric Cartman comes flying off that screen and he is WIDE open! So close. Eric Cartman can only stare at the iron.

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

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Eric Cartman breaks a shell down. OHHHH that is filthy! Jesus Christ on the handoff and the man guarding it is still fighting over the top. The investor just ran a give and go to perfection on national television! Somebody go tell his boss what he does after hours! A jump hook over a grown professional defender, from the investor? That is the most unexpected fundamentals clinic of the night.

Intermission. Donald Trump dumps an entire water bottle over his head. Anecdote: Donald Trump slipped on a banana peel during practice. The videos leaked. The internet never forgets. And now, our halftime TV game show Foul Line Confessions! To win a hood ornament from a truck that was never built, text HOOPS to 555-1098 and answer this question: 'Why does every gym in the country smell exactly the same?' Jump ball to restart. Let the second half begin!

More second chance points for Houston Blast-Off, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

Dribble handoff from Donald Trump, and the defender gets wiped out on the exchange! A cruel spin-out for the school student, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

Clean feed from Eric Cartman, nothing forced, just the offense breathing. Jesus Christ eats the contact so Hulk can run free along the baseline, and the catch-and-shoot look is right there. Rim, backboard, none of the above from the scientist! Ladies and gentlemen, that is a person with a real job, and we have all just been reminded of it.

The investor runs a dribble handoff with the timing of a fifteen-year vet. Not bad for somebody who does this on weekends. Two hands on the ball, then a fresh bounce. Somewhere a youth coach is watching the scientist and quietly turning off the TV.

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

Watch the sell from Donald Trump here, he leans in, he gets the defender leaning with him, and then he backs away into all that space. The block is clean, the ball is gone, and Donald Trump is left staring at his empty hands like a man who lost his keys.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Houston Blast-Off in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Here is the part that never makes the highlight package: Donald Trump controlling tempo, burning clock, hunting the mismatch the second one shows up. Hesitate, GO. Eric Cartman is by that hip before the man even blinks. Soft off the fingertips, the ball takes a full lap of the rim on Eric Cartman, and spits straight back out. That is theft.

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

Everybody in the arena knew the stepback was coming from Donald Trump, and not one single soul could do anything about it. Donald Trump rises up from fifteen feet and OHHHH, that rattled in and OUT!

Donald Trump's lip is trembling. Eric Cartman dodges the cameras by pulling up her hood. And here is the answer to our game show Foul Line Confessions! Wendell Crabtree of Lost Mitten, Colorado, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'Why does every gym in the country smell exactly the same?' The answer was of course floor wax, popcorn, and forty years of accumulated nervousness. Wendell therefore wins a hood ornament from a truck that was never built! Tonight I nearly had a heart attack at least four times. And I'm just the commentator. Thanks! And now, 'Neighbors from Hell: The Community Compost Bin Saga.' Episode 1 of 74.

Matchday 10 — vs Denver Horse-Track

78-117 (L)

Bucket for Denver Horse-Track. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and Donald Trump drops it off to Hulk on time and on target. STOP AND GO! Hulk hit the brakes, hit the gas, and the lane opened up like a garage door. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Two points in every gym in America except this one, and Hulk is walking back with both hands on his head.

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

Total control. Donald Trump has this thing on a string. OHHHH the pin-down! Jesus Christ pops out clean while the defender is STILL tangled up with LeBron James. Brutal. The crowd has found its chant, and Jesus Christ is going to be hearing it all night.

SKIP PASS! Hulk fires it cross court to LeBron James and the defense is dead in the water! Jesus Christ eats the contact so LeBron James can run free along the baseline, and the catch-and-shoot look is right there. OHHHH the FADEAWAY! LeBron James rises over the defender and it falls through.

Both teams head to the locker room. Jesus Christ wipes his forehead with his jersey. Did you know Jesus Christ plays better when it's raining outside? Even indoors. Go figure. And now, our halftime TV game show Name That Smell! To win a barbecue apron that reads KISS THE FORKLIFT OPERATOR, text HOOPS to 555-0357 and answer this question: 'Which is heavier, a pound of orange slices or a pound of team spirit?' Act two! The bench players are fired up, the starters too.

Eric Cartman gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Hulk saw it a beat early. That is vision. Eric Cartman sees the pocket open for a tenth of a second and puts the ball in it. OHHHH, the cylinder rejects the messiah! Somewhere a whole workplace just yelled at a television.

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

That is ninety-four feet of pure effort from Hulk, and that is the play a locker room remembers in April. OUTLET! Hulk rips the board and fires it ahead to Eric Cartman before anybody gets back! Somewhere a defender is explaining to his family why the school student is going to be on the front page tomorrow morning.

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.

Donald Trump kicks it over to LeBron James, no dribble, no drama, and this offense settles into a rhythm. Handoff, turn the corner, BUCKET! LeBron James did all the dirty work on that one. A cruel spin-out for the scientist, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

Clean block, all ball, no whistle, and Jesus Christ jogs back down the floor like nothing happened.

Eric Cartman is locked in on the other bench's best player and he has not backed up one single inch. This is what you buy the ticket for.

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

Two free throws and the ball for the other side, that is the price of a flagrant two, and Jesus Christ pays it from the tunnel.

Baseline wide open. Hulk said thank you. No good. Hulk rushed that one.

Donald Trump scratches the back of his neck nervously. Eric Cartman has the look of someone who has seen things. And here is the answer to our game Name That Smell! Odell Trippett of Broke Axle, Alaska, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'Which is heavier, a pound of orange slices or a pound of team spirit?' The answer was of course the orange slices, and it is not close. Odell takes home a barbecue apron that reads KISS THE FORKLIFT OPERATOR! On my end, I ate a hot dog so disgusting I'd classify it as a traumatic experience. Off to bed! Or stay for 'Real Housewives of the DMV.' The line is around the block.

Matchday 11 — vs New York Over-Timers

76-120 (L)

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Eric Cartman threw it before the help even committed. Watch the spacing, LeBron James drags two bodies toward the ball and Jesus Christ is standing alone behind the line. Geometry, not luck. Kick out to Jesus Christ, one more to Donald Trump, splash from the wing and this bench is on its feet. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Donald Trump scooped that in from underneath the rim!

Textbook two three with Hulk manning the back line, and they have not seen a clean look in three trips.

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

Watch the spacing there, Donald Trump hits LeBron James right in the shooting pocket and the possession stays alive. Nobody dribbled, nobody isolated, LeBron James and Donald Trump just played basketball and the defense got shredded. Fifth possession this half where LeBron James has been left to bail everybody out with the clock at zero. He cannot keep doing this alone.

Cold blooded from New York Over-Timers, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Back to the locker room. Eric Cartman punches her locker. I've been told Eric Cartman always puts her left shoe on first. The one day she switched, gave up 40 points. And now, our halftime TV game show Match Game Winding Down! To win a souvenir shot glass from a state park with no water in it, text HOOPS to 555-0509 and answer this question: 'Which came first, the backboard or the regret?' Back to business. The players bounce around to warm up.

Total control. Donald Trump has this thing on a string. The help defender committed way too early, and Hulk made him pay for it with a spin they will be replaying all week. Two points left on the floor by Hulk, and those are exactly the ones that come back to bite you in the fourth.

The press is doing its job: with Donald Trump taking away the middle, this offense is starting its sets with eight on the shot clock. Fingertips! LeBron James gets just enough on it and the ball squirts loose. The school student just outran an entire defense for the finish, and he clocks in for a shift in the morning. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

Eight seconds off the shot clock and Donald Trump has not wasted one of them, the ball reaching LeBron James precisely where the play wanted it. OHHHH the pocket pass! LeBron James splits the coverage and the roll man is loose under the basket! AROUND the cylinder and OUT! Jesus Christ cannot believe it, and neither can this building.

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

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Eric Cartman makes it every single trip down the floor. Read, screen, delivery, right on the money. A messiah making the right pass every single time, and the league is taking notes. The investor hammers a brick off the backboard so hard the rim is still shaking. Nothing in that resume prepared anybody for this.

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

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

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

Second pass beats the rotation, Hulk to Donald Trump, and the closeout gets there about half a second too late. Not a hand on him. Donald Trump flat missed the bunny.

They do not teach that in the investor handbook, and yet here we are. Beautiful little exchange. Pull-up from the elbow by LeBron James, halfway down, spinning inside the iron, and it pops right back out.

Donald Trump's face is locked shut, zero emotion. Eric Cartman hides her eyes under a towel. And here is the answer to our game show Match Game Winding Down! Georgette Blalock of Little Persimmon, North Carolina, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'Which came first, the backboard or the regret?' The answer was of course the regret, by about eleven minutes. Georgette therefore wins a souvenir shot glass from a state park with no water in it! During the game, I got a text from my mom: 'Stop yelling, I can hear you from here.' She lives 120 miles away. And now, a brand new episode of 'Desperately Seeking My Cat.' Good night, everyone.

Matchday 12 — vs Cleveland Twin-Towers

84-112 (L)

Working him at the top of the key, low dribble, low dribble, then Donald Trump rips it across and his man lunges at a ghost. Ohhh no. Donald Trump just walked. In front of everybody.

Unselfish basketball. Eric Cartman passes up a good shot and hands Hulk a GREAT one. Missed layup for the scientist and the whole arena groans as one. Great hands in the day job, apparently they do not travel.

Everybody in the arena knew the stepback was coming from Donald Trump, and not one single soul could do anything about it. From eight feet Donald Trump puts way too much on it, and the ball clears the rim entirely. Second-chance points are how you steal games on the road, and Hulk has now cleaned up four misses tonight. Rebounding is effort, and effort is apparently what the scientist does for a living. Second chance points, all guts.

Hulk runs the baseline high-fiving every hand hanging over the rail, all the way to the corner and back. It takes forever. Play is waiting on him. Nobody in the building wants it to stop, including, visibly, the officials.

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

Clean feed from Donald Trump, nothing forced, just the offense breathing. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! LeBron James whips that pass one-handed on the move and the roll man gathers it through contact. Filthy. The investor hammers a brick off the backboard so hard the rim is still shaking. Nothing in that resume prepared anybody for this.

The locker room. Jesus Christ sprawls out full-length on the bench. Exclusive info: Jesus Christ is banned for life from the McDonald's near the arena. The details remain murky. And now, our halftime TV game show Go Fish for Answers! To win a porch swing missing every single chain, text HOOPS to 555-0468 and answer this question: 'What is the average lifespan of a whistle used in a middle school gym?' Come on, second half! The best is yet to come. Or the worst. Who knows.

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

You want basketball IQ? Ask the investor, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. LeBron James rips it back into the stepback and suddenly there is a country mile between him and that defender. Rising up out of the corner, LeBron James sends it LONG, clanging off the far side and out to the wing.

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Hulk makes it every single trip down the floor. OHHHH, what a read by Eric Cartman! He never even glanced at the rim and it is CASH on the other end. Count it AND the foul! Hulk refused to be denied at the rim.

Pointing up at the family section, Hulk 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.

Ball moves. Eric Cartman to LeBron James, on time and on target. Screen, pop, SPLASH! LeBron James kicks it out and that thing never touched iron. Nobody moved, nobody cut, nobody set a screen, so Donald Trump launches a contested jumper with the horn already going. Ugly offense.

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

That is a foot speed problem. Hulk keeps grabbing instead of sliding, and in this league that gets your coach a miserable night. Three fouls on the scientist before halftime. He clocks in, he throws two elbows, he clocks right back out.

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

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Donald Trump spun out of a double team like it was a revolving door! REJECTED! Donald Trump takes it in and gets it sent straight back into his own chest.

Foul to give, and LeBron James gives it. Clock stops.

LeBron James punches his locker when he gets to the locker room. Hulk slides down the wall to the floor. And here is the answer to our game show Go Fish for Answers! Peggy Ann Winterbottom of Two Chairs, Nebraska, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What is the average lifespan of a whistle used in a middle school gym?' The answer was of course six years, or two seasons of an especially loud coach. Peggy Ann therefore wins a porch swing missing every single chain! Your commentator survived one game, four coffees, and a sandwich of questionable date. See you tomorrow! Up next: 'Extreme Reading: The Terms and Conditions.' 4-hour special.

Matchday 13 — vs Boston Ring-Chasers

94-126 (L)

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

Cold blooded from Boston Ring-Chasers, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

You want basketball IQ? Ask the scientist, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. Court vision like that on the messiah is absurd. Whatever the day job pays him, the assist numbers say he is badly underpriced. Not close, not warm, not anywhere for Eric Cartman, straight into the hands of a defender who never had to leave his feet.

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Eric Cartman breaks a shell down. Day job, then this: the messiah reads a rolling big like a coach with twenty years on the bench. The school student 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.

Push the pace! Donald Trump grabs it and hits Eric Cartman in stride before the defense can even match up. Off the pin-down comes the school student with nobody inside a zip code. Somebody out there knows how to use a screen, and it is not who you would guess. Missed layup for the school student and the whole arena groans as one. Great hands in the day job, apparently they do not travel.

The players disappear. Hulk has a makeshift neck brace out of a towel. Fun fact: Hulk was voted best-looking player on the team. By his mom. In a poll she created herself. And now, our halftime TV game show Press Your Luck, Buddy! To win a metal detector that only ever finds bottle caps, text HOOPS to 555-0451 and answer this question: 'Who was the first person in recorded history to yell defense at a wedding?' The hardwood awaits. Here we go for the second half.

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

The other bench sent their best perimeter stopper out on Eric Cartman, and they are learning in real time that it will not be enough tonight. Into traffic goes Eric Cartman, he gets clubbed, he scores anyway, and the free throw is PURE. Three the hard way.

Eric Cartman throws both arms up and holds them there, letting the arena pull the sound out of him. Twenty thousand people on their feet at once. LeBron James grabs his shoulders from behind and shakes him like a snow globe. The floor is genuinely vibrating.

TIMEOUT! The other bench has seen enough of Donald Trump and they are burning one to stop the bleeding.

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

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

Watch the swing here: ten unanswered points from LeBron James in barely two minutes, and the entire complexion of this game has flipped.

Follow the ball there: four sets of hands, Donald Trump makes the last read, and the defense never gets set. That is training camp offense. Jesus Christ fires that thing at the backboard like it owes him money. No chance from the moment it left his hand.

Dagger from Boston Ring-Chasers. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Hulk makes it every single trip down the floor. You can teach the jumper, you cannot teach the willingness, and Eric Cartman gives up a decent shot every single time a better one exists. Feet already set, hands already ready. Jesus Christ takes the feed from Eric Cartman and cashes it.

Down by the baseline, Jesus Christ points at the arena DJ, who obliges with the loudest thing in the catalog. The whole lower bowl is up. Donald Trump is dancing badly and fully aware of it. The Boston Ring-Chasers coach signals for time and gets ignored by his own players.

Jesus Christ unclasps his chain and squeezes it in his fist. Hulk runs a hand down his face. And here is the answer to our game Press Your Luck, Buddy! Vergie Cornsilk of Hominy Bend, Arkansas, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'Who was the first person in recorded history to yell defense at a wedding?' The answer was of course an uncle, and he has not been invited back since. Vergie takes home a metal detector that only ever finds bottle caps! My evening? I spent it holding back tears. Of joy? Of exhaustion? Both. Thanks for watching. Coming up: '48 Hours: The Secret Life of Roundabouts.' Essential viewing.

Matchday 14 — vs San Antonio Skyscrapers

89-133 (L)

Straight down the baseline goes the scientist! Whatever shift he worked this morning, he clearly left plenty in the tank. You are about to see a coach put his entire face in both hands, and Hulk has earned every second of that reaction.

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

Hulk kicks it over to Eric Cartman, no dribble, no drama, and this offense settles into a rhythm. Telegraphed. Eric Cartman announced that pass three days in advance and the defense RSVP'd.

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Hulk breaks a shell down. The defender crowded the middle, and Donald Trump punished him along the baseline like it was drawn up in the huddle. Catching it right at the cup with nobody within eight feet, Donald Trump goes up too strong and the ball rides high off the backboard.

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

Halftime. The physio pounces on Hulk to massage his thighs. Confession: Hulk believes the away locker room is haunted. Refuses to go in alone. And now, our halftime TV game show Triple Dog Dare Hour! To win two pails of driveway sealer that have never once been opened, text HOOPS to 555-0405 and answer this question: 'How many peanuts are dropped on the floor of an average arena per game?' Let's go, we're back. The crowd claps in rhythm.

SKIP PASS! Hulk fires it cross court to Eric Cartman and the defense is dead in the water! Bodies everywhere in the paint and it does not matter one bit to Eric Cartman, one spin and the ball never leaves the string. OHHHH the POWER! Eric Cartman took the hit and finished it anyway!

The investor just froze a grown professional with a hesitation dribble. This man punches a clock and he is out here doing THAT. That is what heavy minutes do, Donald Trump has run all night and the legs have nothing left to give the jumper.

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

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Eric Cartman makes it every single trip down the floor. Screen, hesitation, delivery, Jesus Christ drops it off perfectly for Hulk diving to the rim. That is a dime from Eric Cartman that deserved so much better, and Hulk knows it, head down, jogging back before the ball even lands.

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

Somebody get the messiah a rim protection bonus! Clocks out at five, guarding the paint by seven. This league is a wonderful place. The pass is the play here. Jesus Christ never even puts the ball on the floor, he just throws it and lets the runners eat. The scientist just spun through two defenders and reversed that in. Nothing about this is a normal Tuesday!

Blowing smoke off two fingers like a gunslinger, Hulk holsters them in his waistband. Eric Cartman plays dead on the baseline. The mascot joins the bit uninvited. A referee has to physically separate a celebration from an inbound play.

The investor is out here running a pro offense with hand signals, not one hint of panic, and he clocks in somewhere else in the morning. Beautiful footwork on that one from Hulk, the pivot foot never budges, which is precisely why the whistle stays in the pocket. The crowd has found its chant, and Hulk is going to be hearing it all night.

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

Nobody touched him. Donald Trump beat himself right there.

Back at the shop they have got this review up on every phone with the investor in the frame, and nobody is getting any work done. Brutal for the investor, who owned the shot of a lifetime for about ninety seconds. Back to the day job with nothing but the story.

Hulk watches the crowd file out in silence. Donald Trump prefers not to look. And here is the answer to our game show Triple Dog Dare Hour! Maureen Skaggs of North Fork Elbow, Idaho, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many peanuts are dropped on the floor of an average arena per game?' The answer was of course four thousand and nine, not counting the ones nobody will admit to. Maureen therefore wins two pails of driveway sealer that have never once been opened! Behind the scenes, I learned Donald Trump was also an investor in a past life. You can feel it in the game. See you soon. And now: '911: My Cat Climbed on Top of the Wardrobe.'

Matchday 15 — vs Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest

84-128 (L)

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

Total control. Donald Trump has this thing on a string. LeBron James turns the corner off the screen from Jesus Christ, the help never rotates, and the lane is WIDE open! Jesus Christ drives, draws two bodies, and swings it one more time to the corner. That is the pass nobody is required to make. Range like that bends a defense completely out of shape, and Donald Trump keeps proving the arc is only a suggestion.

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.

Donald Trump walks it up, two fingers in the air, and the whole offense shifts on his command. The scientist reads the screen perfectly, comes off shoulder to shoulder, and buys himself an open look. Veteran movement, rookie resume. Third one of these from Hulk this quarter, third time the arc is wrong. The lane is not open real estate anymore.

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Donald Trump has known that all night long. Ice in his veins for a guy who answers to scientist the rest of the week. Professional shot, amateur resume. Court vision like that on the messiah is absurd. Whatever the day job pays him, the assist numbers say he is badly underpriced. LeBron James loses his angle on the baseline and still finds a way to flip it home with the off hand. Bucket!

Break. Donald Trump asks the medical staff for coffee. Request denied. Fun fact: Donald Trump was voted best-looking player on the team. By his mom. In a poll she created herself. And now, our halftime TV game show Antiques Roadshow but Everything is Broken! To win an inflatable canoe with a slow but very honest leak, text HOOPS to 555-0116 and answer this question: 'What is the going rate for a rebound in small claims court?' Both teams return. You can tell the coach gave them an earful.

The school student is running this zone like he has been drawing it up his entire life. Wrong career, my friend, absolutely the wrong career. NOT A CHANCE! Hulk came flying at that pull-up and DELETED it!

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

There was a clean look available and instead Donald Trump drives into three bodies and loses the handle. That is what a cold spell does to a good player. Stuck holding it as the clock bleeds out, Donald Trump fades away from twenty-six feet, and it is not close.

The investor 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: LeBron James punished a defense that kept going under, and now they have to rip up the game plan. Up goes the shot from Eric Cartman and that is nothing but AIR, and every soul in this building saw it happen.

Textbook two-man game: Donald Trump keeps the dribble alive, forces the big man to commit, and Hulk rolls into an open runway. In, around, and gone. The iron gives Hulk nothing.

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

Set called, LeBron James waved out to the corner, and Donald Trump watches the spacing open up like a front door. STOP AND GO! LeBron James hit the brakes, hit the gas, and the lane opened up like a garage door. It went halfway down! The ball sat in the cylinder, thought about it, and rolled off the far side on LeBron James. Cruel.

Eric Cartman launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Hulk just took a shoulder to the chest to buy Jesus Christ half a second, and half a second in this league is an eternity. Missed layup for the messiah and the whole arena groans as one. Great hands in the day job, apparently they do not travel.

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

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

Hulk sits on the floor in the hallway. Jesus Christ sits down next to him. Nobody speaks. And here is the answer to our game Antiques Roadshow but Everything is Broken! Wayne Shropshire of Salt Lick Junction, Maine, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the going rate for a rebound in small claims court?' The answer was of course twelve dollars, or one covered dish. Wayne takes home an inflatable canoe with a slow but very honest leak! I spent the evening looking for a stat that couldn't be found. It didn't exist. I made one up. That's it. Up next: 'Anthony Bourdain Visits: The Park-and-Ride in Poughkeepsie.' Culture shock.