My dream starting five — basketball_team 🇺🇸

Matchday 1 — vs Detroit Engine-Roar

76-121 (L)

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Jeffrey Dahmer has known that all night long. A association football player breaking down a professional defender in front of a sold out house! Remember that day job, folks! Textbook footwork, textbook release from Lionel Messi, cruel result as it spins out and both teams go up for a contested board.

Bucket for Detroit Engine-Roar. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Enough room out there to set up a lawn chair, and the soldier made it himself. Total professional, in a completely unrelated profession. Awful shot by Jeffrey Dahmer with eleven still on the shot clock, off the front rim and out to the wing.

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

Total control. Lionel Messi has this thing on a string. Down screen, and Slender Man curls hard into the middle of the floor with a full step of daylight. Easy read. Catching it right at the cup with nobody within eight feet, Slender Man goes up too strong and the ball rides high off the backboard.

Cut! Halftime. Hannibal Lecter's jersey is completely drenched in sweat. Word is Hannibal Lecter sleeps with his basketball shoes on. I can't confirm it, but the source is reliable. And now, our halftime TV game show Scrabble But With Numbers! To win a stack of forty three unread warranty cards, text HOOPS to 555-0736 and answer this question: 'How many numbers are on a jersey that has no numbers?' Second half! The crowd is on its feet, and so are the players.

Standing in the lane like the serial killer is waiting on a bus that is never coming. Whistle blows, ball goes the other way.

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

Swing, swing, and Lionel Messi finds Jeffrey Dahmer on the wing before the help can even turn its head. The soldier just created his own space with a stepback. Somewhere a scout is spitting coffee all over his notepad. BAAAANG! Jeffrey Dahmer catches it and lets it FLY, nothing but net from the corner!

SKIP PASS! Jeffrey Dahmer fires it cross court to Lionel Messi and the defense is dead in the water! Not an inch to spare on the endline, but Lionel Messi keeps both feet in bounds and the help gets there a beat too late. The association football player spots up in the corner and drills it like it is nothing. Somewhere a shooting coach is crying tears of joy.

OHHHH the pin-down! Victor Wembanyama pops out clean while the defender is STILL tangled up with Hannibal Lecter. Brutal. That is the shot chart lying to you. Victor Wembanyama did everything right on this possession and has zero points to show for it.

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

Personal foul on the soldier. Somewhere a shift is going uncovered and not one soul in this arena cares. The table confirms it, sixth personal on Jeffrey Dahmer, disqualified, and the boos are pouring down from the visiting section.

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

Onions from Slender Man! He plants himself in front of a freight train and just wears the whole thing.

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Victor Wembanyama threw it before the help even committed. Read, screen, delivery, right on the money. A serial killer making the right pass every single time, and the league is taking notes. Buzzer on the shot clock, Lionel Messi heaves it off one leg, and the ball comes up short of everything.

Slender Man sighs so loudly that the reporters hear it. Jeffrey Dahmer winces. And here is the answer to our game show Scrabble But With Numbers! Nadine Frankenberry of Pothole Junction, Iowa, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many numbers are on a jersey that has no numbers?' The answer was of course one, and it is invisible, and it is a seven. Nadine therefore wins a stack of forty three unread warranty cards! During the break, I tried doing crunches behind the console. My back remembers. And now, a brand new episode of 'Desperately Seeking My Cat.' Good night, everyone.

Matchday 2 — vs Miami Heart-Attack

90-111 (L)

OHHHH here we go! Shoving under the rim, and Victor Wembanyama is right in the middle of it!

Eight seconds off the shot clock and Lionel Messi has not wasted one of them, the ball reaching Hannibal Lecter precisely where the play wanted it. This is the work that never shows up on a stat sheet, Hannibal Lecter gets the credit and the guy setting the screen gets the bruise. The psychiatrist had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

OHHHH the pocket pass! Lionel Messi splits the coverage and the roll man is loose under the basket! The soldier gets it handed over on a silver platter at point blank range and drops it. Somewhere in this building a coach is questioning every decision that led here.

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

Laser from Lionel Messi, corner to corner, and that closeout gets there about a second and a half too late. Slender Man eats the contact so Victor Wembanyama can run free along the baseline, and the catch-and-shoot look is right there. Pull-up from the elbow by Victor Wembanyama, halfway down, spinning inside the iron, and it pops right back out.

Both teams head in. Lionel Messi has a red mark on his cheek from an elbow. Fun fact: Lionel Messi tried to negotiate a 'mandatory nap' clause in his contract. Denied. 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.

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

Buckets, dimes, and one absolute dagger from Slender Man to cap it off. This building is so loud the huddle cannot hear itself think.

No hero ball here: Victor Wembanyama takes what the defense gives and moves it along. Two defenders, one gap, and Slender Man finds it. Onions on that pass. Two on the shot clock and the ball ends up with the soldier, which is how you get a twenty-eight footer off the wrong foot.

Slender Man sets the pick and DIVES to the cup. Lionel Messi lays it right on his hands in traffic! Straight up the elevator shaft! Slender Man goes and gets it above the square, and this building is shaking.

Flexing under the basket, mouth wide open, Slender Man 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.

Over the top of everybody. Victor Wembanyama to Jeffrey Dahmer in the corner, wide open, catch and rise. The soldier turns clean out of two bodies in the paint. That is nowhere in the job description and yet here we are. Rises, releases, and Jeffrey Dahmer sends the ball through the exact patch of sky where the rim is not.

Ohhh no. Corner three, Miami Heart-Attack in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

The association football player just froze a grown professional with a hesitation dribble. This man punches a clock and he is out here doing THAT. That little shot is what keeps guards employed in this league, and Lionel Messi has it on a string tonight.

Shimmy from the corner all the way to half court, shoulders loose, chin high. Lionel Messi 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.

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.

Nobody dribbled, nobody isolated, Jeffrey Dahmer and Lionel Messi just played basketball and the defense got shredded. The soldier had two points in the bank and the iron took them right back out. You do not get heartbreak like that in the day job.

Hannibal Lecter watches the crowd file out in silence. Lionel Messi prefers not to look. 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 drank so much coffee tonight I'm going to commentate in my sleep. See you tomorrow. In the meantime, it's 'Who Wants to Marry My Goldfish.' Good luck with that.

Matchday 3 — vs Orlando Magic-Beans

95-122 (L)

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

Three guys in warmups are halfway onto the floor celebrating what Victor Wembanyama just did, and an official has to wave them back to their seats. Four live-ball turnovers now for Victor Wembanyama, and every single one of them has turned into a bucket.

Ball into Slender Man at the elbow, Victor Wembanyama plants his foot and goes backdoor, and the pass meets him in the air. Filthy. Prayer from Victor Wembanyama. Not answered.

Here comes the slip from Jeffrey Dahmer, and Lionel Messi reads it a half second before anybody else in the building. The soldier just dropped a teardrop over a seven footer. Soft hands must run in that trade!

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

Both teams head to the locker room. Hannibal Lecter wipes his forehead with his jersey. Fun fact: Hannibal Lecter got rejected at a casting for a deodorant commercial. The irony. And now, our halftime TV game show Countdown to Nothing in Particular! To win a jigsaw puzzle with all four corner pieces missing, text HOOPS to 555-1207 and answer this question: 'How many hot dogs does a mascot eat before he stops enjoying it?' And we're off! The energy in the arena just went up a notch.

Ball moves. Victor Wembanyama to Slender Man, on time and on target. Screened, toasted, done. Slender Man is loose and the defense is scrambling to find him. That is the shot Slender Man wants every trip down the floor, it drops nine nights out of ten, and tonight is the tenth.

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

OHHHH the hesi! Lionel Messi froze him solid and he is already gone! Rising into two defenders, Lionel Messi launches a jumper that finds nothing but backboard and bad decisions.

The crossover comes, Slender Man bites hard, and the lane opens up like the front door was left unlocked. The association football player gets whistled for the swipe. Forty honest hours a week and here he is, picking pockets in front of twenty thousand witnesses.

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

Victor Wembanyama comes flying off that screen and he is WIDE open! Count it AND the foul! Victor Wembanyama refused to be denied at the rim.

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

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

Day job, then this: the association football player reads a rolling big like a coach with twenty years on the bench. Somewhere there is a coaching video being edited right now, and the soldier is the star of it. Three steps and a prayer.

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

Hannibal Lecter bites his lip, fists clenched. Jeffrey Dahmer shakes his head slowly, in disbelief. And here is the answer to our game show Countdown to Nothing in Particular! Norma Jean Sprinkle of Butterbean Flats, Alaska, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many hot dogs does a mascot eat before he stops enjoying it?' The answer was of course nine, and the tenth one is purely professional. Norma Jean therefore wins a jigsaw puzzle with all four corner pieces missing! On my end, I discovered the arena's coffee machine was broken. The game nearly went uncommentated. Until next time! Up next: 'Life Unplugged: A Day Without WiFi.' A shocking documentary.

Matchday 4 — vs Philadelphia Injury-Report

100-117 (L)

The association football player just ran that two-man game like he has a decade of film on it. Somebody get this man a contract. OHHHH, the cylinder rejects the psychiatrist! Somewhere a whole workplace just yelled at a television.

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Philadelphia Injury-Report, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

SPIN and GO! Jeffrey Dahmer pirouettes right through the traffic and comes out the other side clean! The help defender had position, leverage, everything but a chance. Jeffrey Dahmer rose straight over the top of him, and one.

Clang. Hannibal Lecter wants that one back. The shot is short, and Victor Wembanyama is the only man moving. He rips it out of the crowd and the possession lives. Second pass beats the rotation, Victor Wembanyama to Jeffrey Dahmer, and the closeout gets there about half a second too late. Nobody expects touch like that from the soldier, but that floater had more feel than half the starting guards in the league.

Slender Man just took a shoulder to the chest to buy Victor Wembanyama half a second, and half a second in this league is an eternity. Watch the feet on Victor Wembanyama there, still drifting sideways at the release, and that is exactly why the floater sails wide left of everything.

Time to breathe. Hannibal Lecter has both hands on both knees, completely cooked. I've been told Hannibal Lecter always puts his left shoe on first. The one day he switched, gave up 40 points. And now, our halftime TV game show Deal or No Deal or Maybe! To win a novelty belt buckle roughly the size of a hubcap, text HOOPS to 555-0396 and answer this question: 'What is the top speed of a shopping cart with one bad wheel?' Resetting the counters for this second half. Well, not really.

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

OHHHH that is a bad one from Slender Man! He hauls the ball handler down in the open floor and the whole arena is up and howling. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Slender Man is flat on the floor, the crowd is howling, and the call comes back flagrant. Two shots and the ball.

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

Contested! Slender Man makes him change it in midair.

Whirl, and GONE! Lionel Messi leaves the defender grabbing at a jersey that stopped being there half a second ago. Straight back to the office for the association football player, and the group chat has already seen it twice.

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

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

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Victor Wembanyama breaks a shell down. A single dribble is all Jeffrey Dahmer needed to get downhill, and the back side of that defense is in complete disarray. Two points left on the floor by Jeffrey Dahmer, and those are exactly the ones that come back to bite you in the fourth.

Nobody is getting a hand near that. Lionel Messi has all the room in the world. Contested, off balance, fading away from the wrong shoulder, that is a shot Lionel Messi should never take with three teammates standing wide open.

Hannibal Lecter mutters while walking out. Victor Wembanyama watches from the corner of his eye, worried. And here is the answer to our game Deal or No Deal or Maybe! Marlene Hufnagel of North Elbow, Wisconsin, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the top speed of a shopping cart with one bad wheel?' The answer was of course whatever speed produces the most noise. Marlene takes home a novelty belt buckle roughly the size of a hubcap! Yours truly survived this game without losing his voice. It was touch and go. Thanks for watching this game. And now: 'Deal or No Deal: Office Fridge Edition.'

Matchday 5 — vs Phoenix No-Defense

74-119 (L)

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Lionel Messi just did it by hitting Hannibal Lecter on the back side with acres of room. Hard drive, hard stop, and Hannibal Lecter retreats into an ocean of open hardwood. A cruel spin-out for the psychiatrist, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

Jeffrey Dahmer gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Lionel Messi saw it a beat early. Jeffrey Dahmer drives, draws two bodies, and swings it one more time to the corner. That is the pass nobody is required to make. Put him on skates, then put him on a POSTER. Lionel Messi owns the highlight reel tonight.

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

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

Somebody explain how the association football player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Watch Victor Wembanyama plant his feet, absorb the hit, and spring Hannibal Lecter out of that corner in a blink. Down, up, and gone for Hannibal Lecter. The rim is just toying with him now.

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

Intermission. Jeffrey Dahmer dumps an entire water bottle over his head. Did you know Jeffrey Dahmer plays better when it's raining outside? Even indoors. Go figure. And now, our halftime TV game show Wipeout the Rec League Edition! To win a weather vane pointing a direction wind has never once gone, text HOOPS to 555-0914 and answer this question: 'How many bleacher splinters are removed nationwide every Tuesday?' Here we go. Tactical adjustments have been made.

You want basketball IQ? Ask the association football player, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. Full stop, full sprint, and the soldier is in the paint! Nobody back at the workplace is going to believe this one. You can hear that rim ringing from up here, Jeffrey Dahmer has forced three in a row now and the whole offense has stopped moving.

GONE down the baseline! Jeffrey Dahmer beat him on the first step and the paint is collapsing. The soldier just double dribbled in front of a sold-out building. Nobody back at work is ever letting that one go.

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.

Victor Wembanyama launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. OHHHH that is filthy! Slender Man on the handoff and the man guarding it is still fighting over the top. Dribble alive, patient, patient, and then Lionel Messi slips it to Victor Wembanyama right in the pocket. Surgical. Runner in the lane by Victor Wembanyama, high off the fingertips, straight down through the net. Splash!

Victor Wembanyama 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.

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

OHHHH the pin-down! Jeffrey Dahmer pops out clean while the defender is STILL tangled up with Hannibal Lecter. Brutal. Long and gone. Jeffrey Dahmer floats the teardrop over everything and bangs it off the back iron.

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

Give the man credit for the effort, because Victor Wembanyama contested that from three feet behind, which is technically a contest. The association football player 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.

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

Inbounds pass and Victor Wembanyama is on him instantly, two hands on the jersey, whistle. The clock freezes at nineteen point four.

Jeffrey Dahmer walks head down toward the tunnel. Lionel Messi drags his feet behind, shoulders slumped. And here is the answer to our game show Wipeout the Rec League Edition! Lavonne Stackhouse of Grease Rag Creek, Delaware, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many bleacher splinters are removed nationwide every Tuesday?' The answer was of course six hundred and twelve, and most of them in the Midwest. Lavonne therefore wins a weather vane pointing a direction wind has never once gone! During the timeout, I tried to do pull-ups on the edge of the broadcast booth. Zero. Thanks for being here. Now put down the remote, it's time for 'Wheel of Misfortune.'

Matchday 6 — vs Los Angeles Nursing-Home

92-106 (L)

Textbook two three with Hannibal Lecter manning the back line, and they have not seen a clean look in three trips. Winning basketball right there: Slender Man knocks the swing pass off course and that offense has to run it back from the top.

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

The association football player pops to the arc and buries it, and nobody in this building believes that man clocks in somewhere in the morning. Rim out for Victor Wembanyama, the crowd came up and sat right back down, and you can hear the groan from every corner of the arena. Another extra possession courtesy of the psychiatrist, a man who evidently boxes out at work too. Some habits do not clock out. OHHHH he went and GOT that! Hannibal Lecter with the putback jam over two bodies.

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

Full stop, full sprint, and the soldier is in the paint! Nobody back at the workplace is going to believe this one. Twenty-four seconds of standing around, and Jeffrey Dahmer has to eat the last two of them. Possession wasted long before the shot went up.

A cut with that timing from the soldier? He is on the clock somewhere else all week and he still found time to learn the two-man game. The soldier launched one from the logo as the horn sounded. In fairness, nobody in that huddle gave him a better option.

Halftime! Slender Man checks his stats on the board and winces. Juicy anecdote: Slender Man was caught dancing the Macarena in the showers. Alone. And now, our halftime TV game show Lingo but Nobody Speaks! To win a hot tub cover with no hot tub anywhere near it, text HOOPS to 555-0241 and answer this question: 'How many times can you refold a road map before it turns against you?' Come on, second half! The best is yet to come. Or the worst. Who knows.

Bucket for Los Angeles Nursing-Home. Wide open look, and nobody even ran at the shooter.

Whistle, red light, nothing to show for it. Victor Wembanyama hands it over.

Bodies everywhere in the paint and it does not matter one bit to Jeffrey Dahmer, one spin and the ball never leaves the string. Three free throws for the soldier! That is the single most expensive mistake in basketball, and a person with a real day job just engineered it.

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

Lionel Messi launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Slender Man stutters at the elbow, the defender bites on it, and now there is nothing but open floor between him and the rim. That is a dime from Jeffrey Dahmer that deserved so much better, and Slender Man knows it, head down, jogging back before the ball even lands.

OHHHH, what a read by Victor Wembanyama! He never even glanced at the rim and it is CASH on the other end. Oh, that is rough. Hannibal Lecter killed his own dribble and then started a brand new one.

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

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Victor Wembanyama threw it before the help even committed. STOP AND GO! Slender Man hit the brakes, hit the gas, and the lane opened up like a garage door. Heat check for Slender Man and it is GOOD. He is COOKING, and this building knows exactly what it is watching.

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

Lionel Messi lets out a big exhale walking through the door. Jeffrey Dahmer holds his in. And here is the answer to our game Lingo but Nobody Speaks! Clovis Whittenberg of Number Nine Curve, New York, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many times can you refold a road map before it turns against you?' The answer was of course three, after which you simply live with it open. Clovis takes home a hot tub cover with no hot tub anywhere near it! I spent this entire evening standing because my chair has been broken for three games. Nobody fixes it. Good night everyone! Coming up: 'Boot Camp: Supermarket Checkout Line Edition.' Discipline.

Matchday 7 — vs Toronto Border-Patrol

84-123 (L)

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Jeffrey Dahmer has known that all night long. The beauty of it is that Lionel Messi never has to set a screen at all, the exchange IS the screen. Nightmare to guard. Baby hook by Hannibal Lecter, right over that outstretched hand, high off the board, count it.

Hannibal Lecter mimes putting a whole section to sleep, hands folded against his cheek, eyes shut. He is facing the Toronto Border-Patrol fans who paid for the good seats. They boo. He nods along with the boos, which somehow makes the home crowd louder.

Cross court, on a rope, from the association football player. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. The defender crowded the middle, and Slender Man punished him along the baseline like it was drawn up in the huddle. Slender Man backs his man down, feels the contact, spins middle and drops it in over both hands. Fundamentals!

OHHHH the separation! Jeffrey Dahmer just manufactured three feet of daylight out of absolutely nothing. Jeffrey Dahmer beat the clock by a tenth of a second and missed by about four feet. Technically legal, competitively pointless.

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

The soldier just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. The defender planted his feet, and Victor Wembanyama said thank you very much and drove straight through his front pocket. Gift wrapped by Hannibal Lecter, and Victor Wembanyama cannot finish the two footer. That one is going to sting.

End of the first half. Slender Man is beet red but still standing. Anecdote: Slender Man fell asleep on the bench during an exhibition game. Still got named MVP. And now, our halftime TV game show Supermarket Sweep the Series! To win a jackalope postcard rack with no postcards in it, text HOOPS to 555-0398 and answer this question: 'What percentage of halftime shows are secretly the same guy?' The players charge out of the tunnel. Smells like a comeback.

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

That is the third live-ball giveaway of the half, and each one has been the same read: Victor Wembanyama deciding late and throwing early.

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

That is vision. Victor Wembanyama sees the pocket open for a tenth of a second and puts the ball in it. Look at Slender Man mouthing an apology toward his own bench before the call is even announced. He knew instantly.

One hard step and Jeffrey Dahmer owns that whole side of the floor, which means the low man has to make a decision he does not want. Perfect drop-off from Slender Man, and Jeffrey Dahmer answers with... whatever that was. Off the glass, off the rim, and gone.

The association football player is out here running a pro offense with hand signals, not one hint of panic, and he clocks in somewhere else in the morning. Everybody in the arena knew the stepback was coming from Victor Wembanyama, and not one single soul could do anything about it. So close. Victor Wembanyama can only stare at the iron.

Turnover, layup, Toronto Border-Patrol straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Watch the sell from Lionel Messi here, he leans in, he gets the defender leaning with him, and then he backs away into all that space. Rising up out of the corner, Lionel Messi sends it LONG, clanging off the far side and out to the wing.

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

Shot clock violation! Hannibal Lecter owns the nail, the middle is a no fly zone, and that possession just expired in their hands. REJECTED! Lionel Messi gets ALL of that jumper and the building erupts!

Hannibal Lecter turns back to look at the court one last time. Slender Man doesn't turn around. And here is the answer to our game show Supermarket Sweep the Series! Cletus Ogletree of Hominy Corners, Oklahoma, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What percentage of halftime shows are secretly the same guy?' The answer was of course eighty six percent, and his name is Gary. Cletus therefore wins a jackalope postcard rack with no postcards in it! My evening? I spent it holding back tears. Of joy? Of exhaustion? Both. Thanks for tonight. Up next: 'American Ninja Warrior: No Elevator Edition.' Sixth floor, no landing.

Matchday 8 — vs Minnesota Ice-Wall

105-117 (L)

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Jeffrey Dahmer just did it by hitting Victor Wembanyama on the back side with acres of room. Down screen, and Victor Wembanyama curls hard into the middle of the floor with a full step of daylight. Easy read. OHHHH what a FINISH from Victor Wembanyama! Hanging, hanging, and laying it high off the glass on the way down!

Victor Wembanyama mimes putting a whole section to sleep, hands folded against his cheek, eyes shut. He is facing the Minnesota Ice-Wall fans who paid for the good seats. They boo. He nods along with the boos, which somehow makes the home crowd louder.

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Lionel Messi makes it every single trip down the floor. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Jeffrey Dahmer spun out of a double team like it was a revolving door! The soldier launched one from the logo as the horn sounded. In fairness, nobody in that huddle gave him a better option.

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

Peacemaker duty for Victor Wembanyama, hands on his coach, steering him back toward the huddle before this gets more expensive.

Hannibal Lecter did that, and now the loudest twelve people in this arena are all wearing the same uniform he is. Snatched! Lionel Messi came out of NOWHERE for that one.

Break. Hannibal Lecter collapses next to the vending machine. Physio's confession: Hannibal Lecter purrs when you massage his calves. Like a cat. A big cat. And now, our halftime TV game show Supermarket Sweep the Series! To win a jackalope postcard rack with no postcards in it, text HOOPS to 555-0398 and answer this question: 'What percentage of halftime shows are secretly the same guy?' Jump ball to restart. Let the second half begin!

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

Here is what makes a defense elite: Hannibal Lecter does not just block shots, he deletes the whole idea of driving on this team. That outlet from Hannibal Lecter is a weapon, it turns a defensive stop into two points in about three seconds. OHHHHH POSTERIZED! Lionel Messi just ENDED that defender at the rim!

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

More second chance points for Minnesota Ice-Wall, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

One little shoulder dip from Jeffrey Dahmer and the guy guarding him turned into a traffic cone in real time. The soldier misses absolutely everything, and honestly, the nerve to even attempt that shot deserves something. Not points. But something.

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

The bench has completely lost its mind over the serial killer! There are lifers in this league who never get a reaction like that.

The association football player just ran that two-man game like he has a decade of film on it. Somebody get this man a contract. Jeffrey Dahmer threads a BEAUTY to Victor Wembanyama under the rim and... he lays it off the bottom of the iron! Ohhhh, no.

Shot clock bleeding down to nine, Jeffrey Dahmer still rocking the ball, taking his sweet time. Ice in his veins. Jeffrey Dahmer lowers the shoulder, the defender was planted, and that is an offensive foul. Hand the ball back.

Set called, Slender Man waved out to the corner, and Lionel Messi watches the spacing open up like a front door. 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 Slender Man does. From eight feet Slender Man puts way too much on it, and the ball clears the rim entirely.

Lionel Messi unclasps his chain and squeezes it in his fist. Slender Man runs a hand down his face. And here is the answer to our game show Supermarket Sweep the Series! Cletus Ogletree of Hominy Corners, Oklahoma, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What percentage of halftime shows are secretly the same guy?' The answer was of course eighty six percent, and his name is Gary. Cletus therefore wins a jackalope postcard rack with no postcards in it! Your favorite commentator survived. It's not much, but it's honest work. That's a wrap! Coming up: 'What Would You Do: People Who Say Hello in the Elevator.' Exposing the truth.

Matchday 9 — vs Houston Blast-Off

78-122 (L)

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

One hard jab step and Hannibal Lecter is leaning the wrong way, and the drive goes right past his shoulder. Reach-in on the psychiatrist. He tried to take the ball the way he takes everything else on the job, politely and with both hands.

This is the work that never shows up on a stat sheet, Jeffrey Dahmer gets the credit and the guy setting the screen gets the bruise. The soldier just had his shot delivered into the courtside seats. Tough scene, but at least the day job is safe.

A full spin move through traffic from the soldier! Whatever they teach in that trade, footwork is apparently part of it. Fifth possession this half where Jeffrey Dahmer has been left to bail everybody out with the clock at zero. He cannot keep doing this alone.

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

The players file out. Hannibal Lecter exchanges a tense look with the coach. Confession: Hannibal Lecter calls mom after every loss. And every win. And also on Tuesdays. And now, our halftime TV game show The Bachelor of Science! To win a ceramic frog wearing tiny sunglasses and nothing else, text HOOPS to 555-0264 and answer this question: 'How tall would a stack of every whistle ever blown be?' We're back at it. The crowd had time to reload at the snack bar.

Watch the spacing there, Victor Wembanyama hits Lionel Messi right in the shooting pocket and the possession stays alive. The association football player just ran a give and go to perfection on national television! Somebody go tell his boss what he does after hours! Stuck holding it as the clock bleeds out, Lionel Messi fades away from twenty-six feet, and it is not close.

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

Off the shin, out of bounds, and Jeffrey Dahmer cannot bring himself to look at his own bench.

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

Tipped away by Lionel Messi! Loose ball, scramble, bodies everywhere, and it ends up in our hands. Jeffrey Dahmer grabs it, turns, and slings a one-hander three quarters of the floor. Filthy. Touch pass from Jeffrey Dahmer, and Hannibal Lecter glides in for the finger roll. Filthy.

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

SKIP PASS! Lionel Messi fires it cross court to Slender Man and the defense is dead in the water! Slender Man turns the corner off the screen from Lionel Messi, the help never rotates, and the lane is WIDE open! Nobody moved, nobody cut, nobody set a screen, so Lionel Messi launches a contested jumper with the horn already going. Ugly offense.

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

A cut with that timing from the soldier? He is on the clock somewhere else all week and he still found time to learn the two-man game. Nasty finish. Jeffrey Dahmer hangs, adjusts in midair, and drops it through.

Jeffrey Dahmer cups a hand to his ear and turns a slow full circle, milking every section. The upper deck answers louder than the lower bowl, so he points up there and nods. Hannibal Lecter joins the spin. Forty seconds of noise before anybody inbounds the ball.

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Jeffrey Dahmer has known that all night long. Give and go! Hannibal Lecter gives it up, cuts, and gets it right back with a clear lane to the cup! Not a hand on him. Hannibal Lecter flat missed the bunny.

Lionel Messi launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Screen, roll, DELIVERY from Jeffrey Dahmer! Nothing but runway to the rim! Hannibal Lecter blows the wide open layup!

Hannibal Lecter hurls his water bottle at the wall. Lionel Messi flinches but doesn't react. And here is the answer to our game The Bachelor of Science! Bonnie Faye Gulick of Windy Gap, Wyoming, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How tall would a stack of every whistle ever blown be?' The answer was of course tall enough to be a problem for airplanes. Bonnie Faye takes home a ceramic frog wearing tiny sunglasses and nothing else! Tonight I yelled so loud the guy in the next booth asked me to keep it down. Mid-game. Good night! Up next: 'My 600-Lb Neighbor: He Makes Noise at 3 AM.' Shocking testimonies.

Matchday 10 — vs Denver Horse-Track

81-115 (L)

Ohhh no. Corner three, Denver Horse-Track in rhythm now, and our side of the building goes silent.

Push the pace! Lionel Messi grabs it and hits Victor Wembanyama in stride before the defense can even match up. Beautiful pass by Victor Wembanyama. Wrong jersey.

Hesitate, GO. Jeffrey Dahmer is by that hip before the man even blinks. Up goes the shot from Jeffrey Dahmer and that is nothing but AIR, and every soul in this building saw it happen.

Cold blooded from Denver Horse-Track, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Victor Wembanyama launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. The serial killer reads the screen perfectly, comes off shoulder to shoulder, and buys himself an open look. Veteran movement, rookie resume. The serial killer just threaded a pocket pass through two defenders. Where exactly did that vision come from? The bench has cleared, the crowd is screaming, and somewhere a photographer just got the shot of the season thanks to Victor Wembanyama.

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

Break. Victor Wembanyama's socks are soaking wet — quick change on the spot. Fun fact: Victor Wembanyama got rejected at a casting for a deodorant commercial. The irony. And now, our halftime TV game show Scrabble But With Numbers! To win a stack of forty three unread warranty cards, text HOOPS to 555-0736 and answer this question: 'How many numbers are on a jersey that has no numbers?' The players are back on the court. Here we go again!

Cross court, on a rope, from the soldier. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. The serial killer pulls out the crossover of his life, and Monday morning he clocks in like nothing ever happened. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! That was IN for Slender Man!

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

OHHHH he went BACKDOOR! Jeffrey Dahmer never broke stride and he has the ball UNDER THE RIM! Shot clock at one, and Jeffrey Dahmer just has to throw something at the rim. Nothing doing.

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.

Full stop, full sprint, and the soldier is in the paint! Nobody back at the workplace is going to believe this one. A cruel spin-out for the soldier, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

The soldier just froze a grown professional with a hesitation dribble. This man punches a clock and he is out here doing THAT. BRICK! Jeffrey Dahmer throws up a prayer and the iron sends it straight back out to half court!

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

Lionel Messi kicks it over to Jeffrey Dahmer, no dribble, no drama, and this offense settles into a rhythm. POCKET PASS! Jeffrey Dahmer threads it to Victor Wembanyama between two bodies and the rim is wide open! Nobody moved, nobody cut, nobody set a screen, so Victor Wembanyama launches a contested jumper with the horn already going. Ugly offense.

BAAAANG! Lob from Jeffrey Dahmer, Victor Wembanyama throws it down, and the arena loses its mind.

The whole second unit is on the floor before the ball is out of the net. Victor Wembanyama disappears underneath them. Somewhere in the pile shoe comes off. Hannibal Lecter is on the outside of it screaming straight up at the ceiling.

Under review. Jeffrey Dahmer does not know yet whether he is the hero or the footnote. Freeze it right there: leather glued to the fingers of Jeffrey Dahmer, horn already screaming. No basket.

Lionel Messi mutters while walking out. Slender Man watches from the corner of his eye, worried. And here is the answer to our game show Scrabble But With Numbers! Nadine Frankenberry of Pothole Junction, Iowa, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many numbers are on a jersey that has no numbers?' The answer was of course one, and it is invisible, and it is a seven. Nadine therefore wins a stack of forty three unread warranty cards! Tonight I chewed through two pens. The office supply budget is going to explode. That's a wrap! And now, the network's masterpiece: 'My Cat, My Battle.' Don't miss the finale.

Matchday 11 — vs New York Over-Timers

79-123 (L)

SKIP PASS! Victor Wembanyama fires it cross court to Lionel Messi and the defense is dead in the water! Unselfish basketball. Lionel Messi passes up a good shot and hands Hannibal Lecter a GREAT one. Hannibal Lecter gets to his spot in the lane, lifts the runner over the big man, and leaves it a foot short. No dice.

Somebody explain how the association football player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. OHHHH the pin-down! Slender Man pops out clean while the defender is STILL tangled up with Jeffrey Dahmer. Brutal. OHHHH, that one died in the air! Slender Man put nothing into it and the front rim eats the floater.

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

Lionel Messi walks it up, two fingers in the air, and the whole offense shifts on his command. The serial killer just backdoored a professional defense on national television. Somebody go check on that poor defender. Somebody check that job title again: the serial killer hanging in the air like the paint owes him rent, and finishing anyway.

Lionel Messi just took a shoulder to the chest to buy Jeffrey Dahmer half a second, and half a second in this league is an eternity. The big man never even contested it, and Jeffrey Dahmer still could not get the runner to drop. That one is on him.

Halftime whistle. Jeffrey Dahmer spits into the trash can walking into the locker room. Little scoop: Jeffrey Dahmer logs every game in a notebook. With stars and smiley faces. At that age. 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?' The players are back. Some look fresh, others... Not so much.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Lionel Messi put that man in a blender and the third row felt it! AROUND the cylinder and OUT! Lionel Messi cannot believe it, and neither can this building.

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

The association football player is out here running a pro offense with hand signals, not one hint of panic, and he clocks in somewhere else in the morning. Two defenders collide on the handoff and Hannibal Lecter is gone, so Slender Man earned that one even if the box score disagrees. Stop on a dime, up and over those outstretched arms, and the center can only stand there and watch Hannibal Lecter walk away from it.

Hannibal Lecter 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.

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

Ice in his veins for a guy who answers to association football player the rest of the week. Professional shot, amateur resume. Jeffrey Dahmer went for the deep heat check and produced the loudest silence of the night, roar to OHHHH in half a second.

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

The whistle goes, the crew huddles at the monitor, and Slender Man gets the thumb, flagrant two, straight to the locker room.

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

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

Towels are FLYING for the soldier! Going back to the day job on Monday is going to feel extremely strange after a night like this.

Victor Wembanyama walks like someone carrying the weight of the world. Slender Man drags one foot after the other. 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! During the game, I counted how many times I said 'incredible.' Seventeen. A personal record. Thanks for the game! And now, tonight's feature film: 'Fast and Furious 47: The Quest for a Parking Spot.'

Matchday 12 — vs Cleveland Twin-Towers

77-121 (L)

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

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

A chair knocked flat, an assistant coach holding somebody back by the jersey, that whole row completely unhinged. That is the Jeffrey Dahmer effect. Hannibal Lecter reads the eyes the whole way, gets a mitt on it, and that is OUR basketball now.

OHHHH the pin-down! Victor Wembanyama pops out clean while the defender is STILL tangled up with Hannibal Lecter. Brutal. Getting to his spot and elevating, Victor Wembanyama puts it on the back iron, up over the front, and out. Half a rotation from two points.

The soldier gets whistled for the swipe. Forty honest hours a week and here he is, picking pockets in front of twenty thousand witnesses.

Both teams head to the locker room. Hannibal Lecter wipes his forehead with his jersey. Fun fact: Hannibal Lecter failed the driving test three times. On the court it's a different story, thankfully. And now, our halftime TV game show Name That Casserole! To win a folding chair with one leg noticeably shorter than the others, text HOOPS to 555-0177 and answer this question: 'What is the official state bird of a parking lot?' The players emerge from the tunnel. Stern faces, clenched fists.

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

Oldest play in the book, and Lionel Messi runs it in his sleep. That drop coverage never had a prayer. The defense keeps turning contested looks by Jeffrey Dahmer into free points. STOP REACHING. Both knocked down without the slightest wobble. Free throws are just a shift on the clock, and the soldier punched in on time.

Slow walk, no expression. Jeffrey Dahmer backpedals past the Cleveland Twin-Towers 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.

Laser from Jeffrey Dahmer, corner to corner, and that closeout gets there about a second and a half too late. Watch the change of pace from Victor Wembanyama, half speed into full speed in one step, and that is a blow-by every time. Buzzer on the shot clock, Victor Wembanyama heaves it off one leg, and the ball comes up short of everything.

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

The association football player just created his own space with a stepback. Somewhere a scout is spitting coffee all over his notepad. The association football player had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

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

Jeffrey Dahmer attacks the baseline and the ENTIRE defense has to rotate behind him! It went halfway down! The ball sat in the cylinder, thought about it, and rolled off the far side on Jeffrey Dahmer. Cruel.

The extra pass! Jeffrey Dahmer had the look, gave it up anyway, and Slender Man buries it. BANG! Somebody show the rest of the league what the serial killer just did on that block. Footwork straight out of 1987!

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

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Cleveland Twin-Towers with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

Somebody explain how the association football player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Down screen, and Victor Wembanyama curls hard into the middle of the floor with a full step of daylight. Easy read. The crowd has found its chant, and Victor Wembanyama is going to be hearing it all night.

Victor Wembanyama shakes Jeffrey Dahmer's hand in silence. Not a word. Just a look that says it all. And here is the answer to our game Name That Casserole! Bobbie Jo Tatum of Mule Shoe Flats, Texas, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the official state bird of a parking lot?' The answer was of course the seagull, even nine hundred miles inland. Bobbie Jo takes home a folding chair with one leg noticeably shorter than the others! Tonight my voice traveled three octaves. Baritone to soprano. Basketball does that to you. That's a wrap! And now, 'The Price Is Right: Why Nobody Answers the Phone Anymore.'

Matchday 13 — vs Boston Ring-Chasers

80-124 (L)

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

Victor Wembanyama is barking at the official, arms out, eyes wide, and there it is. The T comes flying in.

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.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Lionel Messi whips that pass one-handed on the move and the roll man gathers it through contact. Filthy. Moving screen on the serial killer. The rule book is weeping and the coach is already up off the bench.

Victor Wembanyama launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. The association football player takes the baseline and bends an entire defense out of shape. Absolutely absurd stuff in this building tonight. BANG is what Lionel Messi was hearing in his head. Clang is what this building actually got.

Halftime. Hannibal Lecter wolfs down an energy bar in two bites. Anecdote: Hannibal Lecter fell asleep on the bench during an exhibition game. Still got named MVP. And now, our halftime TV game show The Gong Show Kazoo Edition! To win a jug of homemade hot sauce labeled only with a warning, text HOOPS to 555-0129 and answer this question: 'What is the correct way to pronounce the name on a jersey that nobody can read?' Both teams return. You can tell the coach gave them an earful.

Clean feed from Jeffrey Dahmer, nothing forced, just the offense breathing. Baseline wide open. Lionel Messi said thank you. Lionel Messi gets into the paint, sees the shot blocker rising, and simply lifts it over the top of him. Never had a prayer.

You judge a locker room by moments like this. Slender Man makes the play, and every man on that sideline erupts right along with him.

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

AIRBALL! Lionel Messi missed the rim, the backboard and everything in between! Hannibal Lecter SKIES for it! Extra life for this offense. You can teach the jumper, you cannot teach the willingness, and Hannibal Lecter gives up a decent shot every single time a better one exists. Watch the footwork there from Victor Wembanyama on the catch, squared up before the ball ever arrives. That is exactly why it goes down so clean.

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

The association football player is out here running a pro offense with hand signals, not one hint of panic, and he clocks in somewhere else in the morning. Lionel Messi eats the contact so Slender Man can run free along the baseline, and the catch-and-shoot look is right there. Slender Man rises up from fifteen feet and OHHHH, that rattled in and OUT!

Nobody boxed out. Tip in, Boston Ring-Chasers, and two of ours were standing right there watching it happen.

Closeout from Hannibal Lecter like a man chasing a bus. Late, out of control, and right into the shooter's landing space. Careful now. Three fouls this early means Hannibal Lecter plays the next stretch with his hands straight up in the air.

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

Jeffrey Dahmer splits the coverage with a bounce pass you need slow motion to appreciate. Dimes. Victor Wembanyama rises, the big man rises higher, and the shot is stuffed into the second row. Return to sender.

Victor Wembanyama walks toward the tunnel without a word. Jeffrey Dahmer stares at the scoreboard as if it might change. And here is the answer to our game The Gong Show Kazoo Edition! Homer Blevins of Lost Wallet, Massachusetts, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the correct way to pronounce the name on a jersey that nobody can read?' The answer was of course however the grandmother in row four says it. Homer takes home a jug of homemade hot sauce labeled only with a warning! My evening? I spent it holding back tears. Of joy? Of exhaustion? Both. Thanks for tonight. Up next: 'American Ninja Warrior: No Elevator Edition.' Sixth floor, no landing.

Matchday 14 — vs San Antonio Skyscrapers

76-118 (L)

More second chance points for San Antonio Skyscrapers, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

Somebody find a fire extinguisher for the association football player! Whatever the day job is, right now the only trade that matters is getting buckets. Four in a row for Lionel Messi, so naturally he pulls up from the parking lot. Iron.

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

Five bodies moving as one, Lionel Messi barking out every rotation, and there is not a crack anywhere in this thing. You will never find it in a box score, but Hannibal Lecter just flipped that entire trip down the floor with one hand.

Here is the part that never makes the highlight package: Lionel Messi controlling tempo, burning clock, hunting the mismatch the second one shows up. That hesitation move is exactly why they keep sending a second body at Victor Wembanyama the moment he crosses half court. Gift wrapped by Hannibal Lecter, and Victor Wembanyama cannot finish the two footer. That one is going to sting.

Both teams head in. Hannibal Lecter has a red mark on his cheek from an elbow. Anecdote: Hannibal Lecter lost a bet and had to wear the center's shoes during warm-ups. Size 16. And now, our halftime TV game show Deal or No Deal or Maybe! To win a novelty belt buckle roughly the size of a hubcap, text HOOPS to 555-0396 and answer this question: 'What is the top speed of a shopping cart with one bad wheel?' Let's go, we're back. The crowd claps in rhythm.

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

Down screen, and Lionel Messi curls hard into the middle of the floor with a full step of daylight. Easy read. Down, up, and gone for Lionel Messi. The rim is just toying with him now. OFFENSIVE GLASS! Lionel Messi beats three men to the spot! That is pure want-to: Lionel Messi was the only man on the floor who decided that rebound belonged to him.

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

Clean block, all ball, no whistle, and Hannibal Lecter jogs back down the floor like nothing happened. OUTLET! Hannibal Lecter rips the board and fires it ahead to Jeffrey Dahmer before anybody gets back! There is no finesse in that, and there does not need to be. Jeffrey Dahmer simply decided the paint belonged to him.

Flexing under the basket, mouth wide open, Jeffrey Dahmer 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.

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

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Lionel Messi just did it by hitting Jeffrey Dahmer on the back side with acres of room. This is the work that never shows up on a stat sheet, Jeffrey Dahmer gets the credit and the guy setting the screen gets the bruise. Prayer from Jeffrey Dahmer. Not answered.

Watch the spacing there, Victor Wembanyama hits Jeffrey Dahmer right in the shooting pocket and the possession stays alive. A cut with that timing from the soldier? He is on the clock somewhere else all week and he still found time to learn the two-man game. Twenty-four seconds of standing around, and Jeffrey Dahmer has to eat the last two of them. Possession wasted long before the shot went up.

That is a costly ten seconds for Lionel Messi. He lost the call, he lost his temper, and the other team gets a point without leaving the huddle.

San Antonio Skyscrapers again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

Read, screen, delivery, right on the money. A association football player making the right pass every single time, and the league is taking notes. Not a hand on him. Victor Wembanyama flat missed the bunny.

The crew chief has the headset on, three angles on the screen, everybody in here staring at Lionel Messi. The building went up, the building came right back down, and Lionel Messi is staring at a scoreboard that never moved.

Hannibal Lecter's gaze is cold, distant. Victor Wembanyama's gaze is hot, angry. And here is the answer to our game Deal or No Deal or Maybe! Marlene Hufnagel of North Elbow, Wisconsin, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the top speed of a shopping cart with one bad wheel?' The answer was of course whatever speed produces the most noise. Marlene takes home a novelty belt buckle roughly the size of a hubcap! Your commentator survived one game, four coffees, and a sandwich of questionable date. We're signing off. And now: 'Musical Chairs: Subway Seat Edition.' Winner takes all.

Matchday 15 — vs Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest

81-126 (L)

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

Over the top of everybody. Jeffrey Dahmer to Slender Man in the corner, wide open, catch and rise. The serial killer 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 association football player tried the teardrop and never got it to the rim. Turns out soft touch does not come standard with that day job.

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

Right through the window. Lionel Messi to Victor Wembanyama on the roll, and the help was a half step late. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Two points in every gym in America except this one, and Victor Wembanyama is walking back with both hands on his head.

Lionel Messi hands it off to Victor Wembanyama, slices through the seam, and the return pass is sitting there waiting at the rim. Lionel Messi beat the clock by a tenth of a second and missed by about four feet. Technically legal, competitively pointless.

Break. The coach is yelling in the tunnel, Victor Wembanyama picks up the pace. Little secret: Victor Wembanyama has a secret TikTok account with 12 followers. Posts cooking tutorials. And now, our halftime TV game show Hollywood Squares of Cheese! To win a taxidermy squirrel holding a tiny fishing rod, text HOOPS to 555-0134 and answer this question: 'What is the correct number of ice cubes in a gas station soda?' Back to hostilities. Faces have changed in the locker room.

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

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and Lionel Messi drops it off to Slender Man on time and on target. Left, right, gone. Slender Man put that defender on skates and never even looked back. The serial killer launched one from the logo as the horn sounded. In fairness, nobody in that huddle gave him a better option.

Turnover, layup, Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Screen, hesitation, delivery, Jeffrey Dahmer drops it off perfectly for Victor Wembanyama diving to the rim. OHHHH! Victor Wembanyama went up looking for a poster and came back down as the punchline.

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.

Unsportsmanlike foul on the serial killer. Two shots and the ball back, a steep price for a man who came here on his day off. Somebody just dropped a flagrant one on the serial killer. The man has to be back at work in the morning, have a heart out there.

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

Victor Wembanyama launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Lionel Messi rips it back into the stepback and suddenly there is a country mile between him and that defender. Third one of these from Lionel Messi this quarter, third time the arc is wrong. The lane is not open real estate anymore.

That is the shot Victor Wembanyama wants every trip down the floor, it drops nine nights out of ten, and tonight is the tenth. You want to know why this team keeps winning the possession battle? Jeffrey Dahmer treats every miss like it belongs to him. BAAAANG! Jeffrey Dahmer rips the offensive board and puts it right back through!

Whole huddle leaning in to hear it, and the plan is to hand the game to the association football player. Genius or madness, we are about to find out. Cut, screen, relocate, and there is Hannibal Lecter wide open in the corner. Nobody on that defense read one page of it.

Jeffrey Dahmer sits down on the hardwood, head on his knees. Lionel Messi puts a hand on his shoulder without saying a word. And here is the answer to our game Hollywood Squares of Cheese! Dwayne Pickle of Beaver Hollow, Pennsylvania, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the correct number of ice cubes in a gas station soda?' The answer was of course all of them, that is the entire business model. Dwayne takes home a taxidermy squirrel holding a tiny fishing rod! I tried to take a selfie with the court in the background. My thumb is over the lens. We're out. Up next: 'Say Yes to the Dress: Budget Three Fifty, Theme: Elastic.' Good luck.