My dream starting five — basketball_team 🇺🇸

Matchday 1 — vs Detroit Engine-Roar

85-129 (L)

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

The tv host grabbed a full handful of jersey and the crew counted every finger. He does not get away with that at work either.

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

TECHNICAL ON THE BENCH! The head coach is way out past the box, and it takes Yoda with both arms to walk him back.

Swing, swing, and Yoda finds Angry Grandpa on the wing before the help can even turn its head. OHHHH the pin-down! Angry Grandpa pops out clean while the defender is STILL tangled up with Shintaro Midorima. Brutal. Up goes the shot from Angry Grandpa and that is nothing but AIR, and every soul in this building saw it happen.

Halftime whistle. Sonic the Hedgehog spits into the trash can walking into the locker room. Confession: Sonic the Hedgehog calls mom after every loss. And every win. And also on Tuesdays. And now, our halftime TV game show The Price is Wrong, Bob! To win a velvet painting of a raccoon in a tuxedo, text HOOPS to 555-0187 and answer this question: 'What is the middle name of the man who invented the folding chair?' On to the next chapter. The court is just waiting for the ball.

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

You want basketball IQ? Ask the jedi master, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. A probe, a plant of the outside foot, and Angry Grandpa pushes off while his man is still fighting to recover his balance. Not close, not warm, not anywhere for Angry Grandpa, straight into the hands of a defender who never had to leave his feet.

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

That is vision. Shintaro Midorima sees the pocket open for a tenth of a second and puts the ball in it. ONIONS from Bonnie Blue! He saw the hit coming and went up into it anyway. Both knocked down without the slightest wobble. Free throws are just a shift on the clock, and the tv host punched in on time.

Bonnie Blue deadpans directly into the broadcast camera: nod, wink, gone. Total elapsed time, one and a half seconds. The commentators lose it completely. Angry Grandpa arrives too late and mugs at an empty lens for nobody at all.

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

No block, no foul, just Bonnie Blue being ENORMOUS in the lane, and that shot never had a chance.

Cross court, on a rope, from the player. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. You could hear the whole building groan, and Yoda knew it the second the ball left his fingers, already jogging back on defense.

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

The jedi master makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. Textbook two-man game: Shintaro Midorima keeps the dribble alive, forces the big man to commit, and Sonic the Hedgehog rolls into an open runway. Sonic the Hedgehog fires that thing at the backboard like it owes him money. No chance from the moment it left his hand.

Huddle is tight, marker squeaking on the board, and Sonic the Hedgehog is already nodding before the coach finishes the sentence. That is the third time out of a timeout tonight that Angry Grandpa has gotten a look this clean. The whiteboard is undefeated.

Angry Grandpa 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.

Yoda whispers 'this can't be real' under his breath. Shintaro Midorima nods without conviction. And here is the answer to our game The Price is Wrong, Bob! Wendell Frobisher of Gravy Fork, West Virginia, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the middle name of the man who invented the folding chair?' The answer was of course Delbert, and the man himself never once sat down. Wendell takes home a velvet painting of a raccoon in a tuxedo! During the game, my colleague ordered sushi. It arrived at the final buzzer. Perfect timing. That's it for tonight. Coming up: 'Nailed It: Cakes Ruined by My Mother-in-Law.'

Matchday 2 — vs Miami Heart-Attack

83-125 (L)

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

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

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

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

Sonic the Hedgehog gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Shintaro Midorima saw it a beat early. The player pulls out the crossover of his life, and Monday morning he clocks in like nothing ever happened. Somewhere a defender is explaining to his family why the player is going to be on the front page tomorrow morning.

Bow to the crowd, a full waist bend with one arm across the stomach, the whole theatrical thing. Sonic the Hedgehog holds it three seconds. Yoda applauds behind him like a valet. Somebody in row two throws a bouquet of obviously fake roses onto the floor, and Sonic the Hedgehog collects every last one.

Halftime. Sonic the Hedgehog's hair is completely soaked, like climbing out of a pool. Rumor has it Sonic the Hedgehog has been wearing the same lucky underwear for three seasons. The medical staff is concerned. And now, our halftime TV game show Big Brother-in-Law! To win a novelty license plate that spells HOTDOG incorrectly, text HOOPS to 555-0296 and answer this question: 'How many pockets can cargo shorts have before they legally become furniture?' The players emerge from the tunnel. Stern faces, clenched fists.

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

Watch the sell from Shintaro Midorima here, he leans in, he gets the defender leaning with him, and then he backs away into all that space. The player misses absolutely everything, and honestly, the nerve to even attempt that shot deserves something. Not points. But something.

Look how low Yoda keeps that shoulder on the drive, that is how you turn a sliver of space into a walk to the rim. The gather was clean, the decision after it was not. Yoda had a live pivot foot and threw it away for a bounce he did not need.

The player turns clean out of two bodies in the paint. That is nowhere in the job description and yet here we are. The block is clean, the ball is gone, and Sonic the Hedgehog is left staring at his empty hands like a man who lost his keys.

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

That is a coaching staff completely out of answers. Shintaro Midorima has taken this game over and the only tool left in the box is a stoppage.

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

A player breaking down a professional defender in front of a sold out house! Remember that day job, folks! The player just put somebody on a POSTER! That defender is going to see this clip for the rest of his life!

Sonic the Hedgehog 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.

BAAAANG! Sonic the Hedgehog sets the table and the pick-and-pop three goes down like somebody scripted it. OHHHH, the cylinder rejects the player! Somewhere a whole workplace just yelled at a television.

The tv host is parked under the rim while three grown men in stripes squint at a screen. Just another day at the office, apparently. Late by a blink. Bonnie Blue is going to see that frame in his sleep tonight.

Yoda walks in slow motion, arms dangling. Shintaro Midorima speeds up. Wants it to be over. And here is the answer to our game Big Brother-in-Law! Peggy Ann Hollifield of Sassafras Gap, South Carolina, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many pockets can cargo shorts have before they legally become furniture?' The answer was of course eleven, and at twelve you have to register them with the county. Peggy Ann takes home a novelty license plate that spells HOTDOG incorrectly! On my end, I ate three chocolate bars during the timeouts. Sports make you hungry, even in the booth. Good night! Up next: 'America's Got Talent: Mouth Noises Edition.' The judges are baffled.

Matchday 3 — vs Orlando Magic-Beans

75-119 (L)

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

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

Shintaro Midorima splits the coverage with a bounce pass you need slow motion to appreciate. Dimes. Look at Bonnie Blue mouthing an apology toward his own bench before the call is even announced. He knew instantly.

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

Look at that bench! Shintaro Midorima just lit the fuse! Nobody told the jedi master that chasedown blocks are supposed to be above his pay grade.

End of the first half. Bonnie Blue is beet red but still standing. Fun fact: Bonnie Blue tried to patent a celebration after a three-pointer. The application was rejected. 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?' Here they come. Fresh as daisies. Or not. We'll find out soon enough.

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

SKIP PASS! Yoda fires it cross court to Angry Grandpa and the defense is dead in the water! Unselfish basketball. Angry Grandpa passes up a good shot and hands Yoda a GREAT one. Catch, rise, splash. The jedi master owns the cleanest jumper on this floor and still has a shift to work in the morning.

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

Back at the shop they have got this review up on every phone with the player in the frame, and nobody is getting any work done. The player sells it at the monitor and gets the ball back. In that trade you learn early that confidence beats evidence.

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Yoda has known that all night long. A single dribble is all Bonnie Blue needed to get downhill, and the back side of that defense is in complete disarray. Two on the shot clock and the ball ends up with the tv host, which is how you get a twenty-eight footer off the wrong foot.

Yoda forces a contested fadeaway with a hand in his face, front rim, and the drought rolls on. Nobody cut, nobody screened, and Shintaro Midorima was still surveying the floor when the clock hit zero. That is a giveaway, plain and simple.

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

Screen, pop, SPLASH! Sonic the Hedgehog kicks it out and that thing never touched iron. The player just had his shot delivered into the courtside seats. Tough scene, but at least the day job is safe.

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

Somebody explain how the player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Oldest play in the book, and Yoda runs it in his sleep. That drop coverage never had a prayer. Soft off the fingertips, the ball takes a full lap of the rim on Angry Grandpa, and spits straight back out. That is theft.

Two decoy screens, a flare to the weak side, then Sonic the Hedgehog coming off the second one. That is the whole thing. Look at the spacing here, two shooters lifting to drag the help, and that leaves Sonic the Hedgehog an easy read to Bonnie Blue in the pocket. Chess.

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

Bonnie Blue lets out a big exhale walking through the door. Angry Grandpa 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 my evening screaming into a microphone, and honestly, I'd do it all over again. That was beautiful. And now: 'House Hunters International: 90-Square-Foot Studio, Wall View.' A steal.

Matchday 4 — vs Philadelphia Injury-Report

85-130 (L)

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

The player just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. Filthy. Absolutely filthy from Bonnie Blue, and the defender knows exactly what just happened to him. A timeout is coming, because no defense recovers from watching Bonnie Blue do that to one of their own.

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

OHHHH he went BACKDOOR! Sonic the Hedgehog never broke stride and he has the ball UNDER THE RIM! REJECTED! Sonic the Hedgehog takes it in and gets it sent straight back into his own chest.

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

Cut! Halftime. Angry Grandpa's jersey is completely drenched in sweat. They say Angry Grandpa has a ritual where he touches the basket post three times. If someone watches, starts over. And now, our halftime TV game show The Chase to the Dollar Store! To win a boxed set of instructional VHS tapes about gutter care, text HOOPS to 555-0225 and answer this question: 'How long is a minute on a stopwatch held by somebody in a hurry?' The hardwood awaits. Here we go for the second half.

The 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. A full spin move through traffic from the tv host! Whatever they teach in that trade, footwork is apparently part of it. Catching it right at the cup with nobody within eight feet, Bonnie Blue goes up too strong and the ball rides high off the backboard.

Dagger from Philadelphia Injury-Report. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

Ball into Angry Grandpa at the elbow, Yoda plants his foot and goes backdoor, and the pass meets him in the air. Filthy. No touch. Yoda left the soft hands in the locker room tonight.

Somebody explain how the player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. One hard step and Shintaro Midorima owns that whole side of the floor, which means the low man has to make a decision he does not want. Somewhere a defender is explaining to his family why the player is going to be on the front page tomorrow morning.

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

TECHNICAL on Angry Grandpa! He found the one word you cannot say out here. Angry Grandpa would not let it go. He already had one, he knew the rule, and he kept talking anyway.

The jedi master fouled a shooter behind the arc. Three free throws, and a timeout that is going to be extremely unpleasant. Yoda throws his head back, because he knows exactly what it means. His minutes are somebody else's decision now.

The bench has completely lost its mind over the player! There are lifers in this league who never get a reaction like that. The player just ran the length of the floor to erase a layup off the backboard. Frame that one for the break room!

Second pass beats the rotation, Shintaro Midorima to Sonic the Hedgehog, and the closeout gets there about half a second too late. Stuck holding it as the clock bleeds out, Sonic the Hedgehog fades away from twenty-six feet, and it is not close.

The player turns clean out of two bodies in the paint. That is nowhere in the job description and yet here we are. It went halfway down! The ball sat in the cylinder, thought about it, and rolled off the far side on Sonic the Hedgehog. Cruel.

Sonic the Hedgehog refuses the coach's embrace. Bonnie Blue accepts it but her body is stiff. And here is the answer to our game The Chase to the Dollar Store! Lurlene Dobbins of Rusty Spoon, New Mexico, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How long is a minute on a stopwatch held by somebody in a hurry?' The answer was of course fifty-one seconds, give or take a conscience. Lurlene takes home a boxed set of instructional VHS tapes about gutter care! Tonight I learned Sonic the Hedgehog used to be a volunteer firefighter before basketball. Found out during a timeout. Threw me off completely. We're signing off. And now: 'Musical Chairs: Subway Seat Edition.' Winner takes all.

Matchday 5 — vs Phoenix No-Defense

87-131 (L)

The defender planted his feet, and Shintaro Midorima said thank you very much and drove straight through his front pocket. Prayer from Shintaro Midorima. Not answered.

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

Tipped away by Shintaro Midorima! Loose ball, scramble, bodies everywhere, and it ends up in our hands. Rebound, look, gone. Shintaro Midorima to Bonnie Blue and this is a footrace now. Get that one framed. Bonnie Blue took off from the block and the defender is still lying on the floor.

Sonic the Hedgehog turns the corner off the screen from Shintaro Midorima, the help never rotates, and the lane is WIDE open! OHHHH that is SILKY! Shintaro Midorima with the teardrop, and it kisses through.

Shintaro Midorima 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.

You judge a locker room by moments like this. Angry Grandpa makes the play, and every man on that sideline erupts right along with him. Two on one the other way and that is a free deuce all day long... except Shintaro Midorima says absolutely not.

Coach calls everyone back. Angry Grandpa drags his feet toward the tunnel. Anecdote: Angry Grandpa threw up before his first pro game. No more pre-game burgers ever since. And now, our halftime TV game show Match Game Seventy-Eight and a Half! To win a hand-crank ice cream maker missing the crank, text HOOPS to 555-0413 and answer this question: 'What is the average lifespan of an ink pen at a bank?' Both teams return. You can tell the coach gave them an earful.

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

Look at the shoulders on the jedi master. Everybody has a rough shift at work, but most people do not have twenty thousand witnesses. Not a bad shot, not a blocked shot, just no shot at all from Yoda. Somehow the worst outcome available.

Enough room out there to set up a lawn chair, and the player made it himself. Total professional, in a completely unrelated profession. The player 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.

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

Somebody explain how the player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Shintaro Midorima stutters at the elbow, the defender bites on it, and now there is nothing but open floor between him and the rim. Shot clock at one, and Shintaro Midorima just has to throw something at the rim. Nothing doing.

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

You can argue intent all night long, but there was nothing basketball about what Angry Grandpa just did to that shooter.

Clean feed from Yoda, nothing forced, just the offense breathing. OHHHH that is filthy! Shintaro Midorima on the handoff and the man guarding it is still fighting over the top. Third one of these from Yoda this quarter, third time the arc is wrong. The lane is not open real estate anymore.

More second chance points for Phoenix No-Defense, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

OHHHH that is a bad one from Yoda! He hauls the ball handler down in the open floor and the whole arena is up and howling. Not one hand went for the basketball, just a forearm through the chest of Yoda. That is the textbook definition of unnecessary contact.

Yoda hurls his water bottle at the wall. Shintaro Midorima flinches but doesn't react. And here is the answer to our game Match Game Seventy-Eight and a Half! Roscoe Tidwell of Frog Level, Alabama, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the average lifespan of an ink pen at a bank?' The answer was of course nine minutes, after which it goes home with a man named Gary. Roscoe takes home a hand-crank ice cream maker missing the crank! Tonight I learned Yoda used to be a volunteer firefighter before basketball. Found out during a timeout. Threw me off completely. See you tomorrow. In the meantime, it's 'Who Wants to Marry My Goldfish.' Good luck with that.

Matchday 6 — vs Los Angeles Nursing-Home

89-134 (L)

That is the second personal charged to Yoda and the bench is already staring at the clipboard. Foul trouble rewrites a rotation in a hurry.

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

Hesitate, GO. Shintaro Midorima is by that hip before the man even blinks. Stuck out on the perimeter with no outlet, Shintaro Midorima panics, re-dribbles, and hands the possession over on a silver platter.

Total control. Sonic the Hedgehog has this thing on a string. The tv host just created his own space with a stepback. Somewhere a scout is spitting coffee all over his notepad. Nobody drew up that arc. The tv host floated one halfway to the rafters, and the rim never even got a say.

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

Break! Shintaro Midorima grabs an ice bag and slaps it on his knee. Quick anecdote about Shintaro Midorima: apparently he eats pasta with ketchup before every game. To each their own ritual. And now, our halftime TV game show Big Brother-in-Law! To win a novelty license plate that spells HOTDOG incorrectly, text HOOPS to 555-0296 and answer this question: 'How many pockets can cargo shorts have before they legally become furniture?' Both teams emerge from the tunnel. The second half can begin.

Both coaches are up off the bench pleading while the officials walk the Yoda sequence back frame by frame. The bench behind Yoda is going crazy, and it should be, that is a stolen possession without stealing anything.

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

POCKET PASS! Yoda threads it to Bonnie Blue between two bodies and the rim is wide open! Pull-up from the elbow by Bonnie Blue, halfway down, spinning inside the iron, and it pops right back out.

Cold blooded from Los Angeles Nursing-Home, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

OHHHH the separation! Sonic the Hedgehog just manufactured three feet of daylight out of absolutely nothing. There is nothing accidental about that one. Sonic the Hedgehog hunted the contact, sold it, and bought himself a trip to the stripe. No wasted motion at all from Sonic the Hedgehog. Both free throws split the net and the scoreboard ticks over twice.

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

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

A player breaking down a professional defender in front of a sold out house! Remember that day job, folks! That is a shot selection problem, plain and simple. Sonic the Hedgehog drove into three bodies and the help defender was waiting the whole way.

Over the top of everybody. Yoda to Angry Grandpa in the corner, wide open, catch and rise. Two defenders, one gap, and Angry Grandpa finds it. Onions on that pass. Runner in the lane by Sonic the Hedgehog, high off the fingertips, straight down through the net. Splash!

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

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and Sonic the Hedgehog drops it off to Bonnie Blue on time and on target. Watch Yoda plant his feet, absorb the hit, and spring Bonnie Blue out of that corner in a blink. In, around, and gone. The iron gives Bonnie Blue nothing.

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

Bonnie Blue bites the inside of her cheek. Yoda pinches the bridge of his nose. And here is the answer to our game Big Brother-in-Law! Peggy Ann Hollifield of Sassafras Gap, South Carolina, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many pockets can cargo shorts have before they legally become furniture?' The answer was of course eleven, and at twelve you have to register them with the county. Peggy Ann takes home a novelty license plate that spells HOTDOG incorrectly! I tried taking notes during the game. My notebook is full of incomprehensible scribbles. Thanks for being here. Coming up: 'Forbidden Zone: Behind the Scenes of a Vending Machine.'

Matchday 7 — vs Toronto Border-Patrol

74-119 (L)

Help defense from the tv host! Somebody in this league is getting paid millions to be a full step slower than that.

Back at the shop they have got this review up on every phone with the player in the frame, and nobody is getting any work done. That is a HUGE possession. Sonic the Hedgehog keeps the ball with this thing hanging by a thread.

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

Push the pace! Sonic the Hedgehog grabs it and hits Shintaro Midorima in stride before the defense can even match up. The player pulls out the crossover of his life, and Monday morning he clocks in like nothing ever happened. Missed layup for the player and the whole arena groans as one. Great hands in the day job, apparently they do not travel.

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

Off to the locker room. Bonnie Blue has already drained two water bottles. Rumor has it Bonnie Blue does 100 push-ups before every game. Or 10. Depends who you ask. 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?' Back on the hardwood. The tension has gone up a notch.

Nobody is touching the paint with the jedi master parked in the middle of it. That is a full time defender doing a part time job, or the other way around. You will never find it in a box score, but Angry Grandpa just flipped that entire trip down the floor with one hand.

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

The jedi master makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. Screen, roll, DELIVERY from Bonnie Blue! Nothing but runway to the rim! Clang. Shintaro Midorima wants that one back.

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

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

Angry Grandpa rides the ball handler all the way up the floor and finally puts a forearm in his back. Officials blow it dead. Standing ovation for the firefighter on the way to the bench. Fouled out, hands on the knees, and not one regret in this building.

The player is in a full blown heat check and the building has stopped pretending this is normal. That is not a hot streak, that is a takeover. Here is the danger of a hot night: Sonic the Hedgehog stops taking the shots that got him going and starts taking the ones that cool him off.

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

Nobody dribbled, nobody isolated, Sonic the Hedgehog and Yoda just played basketball and the defense got shredded. The defense keeps turning contested looks by Sonic the Hedgehog into free points. STOP REACHING. Cash. Cash again. Sonic the Hedgehog pockets the two and jogs back on defense like nothing happened.

The assistant points at the far corner, the head coach points at Yoda, and the other three get told exactly where to stand. Coach spent a timeout on a play for the firefighter and it worked to the inch. That is trust you do not fake.

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

Yoda lets out a nervous laugh that sends chills down your spine. Angry Grandpa decides not to comment. 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! Behind the scenes, I learned Angry Grandpa was also a volunteer firefighter in a past life. You can feel it in the game. We're done for tonight. And now: 'Ancient Aliens: The True History of the Coffee Break.'

Matchday 8 — vs Minnesota Ice-Wall

79-123 (L)

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

Sonic the Hedgehog does not love that call. Both hands in the air, a long look at the official, and the whistle still counts. Six fouls and the player is done. Nobody in that trade ever learned to move their feet, but my word, he tried tonight.

Somewhere out there a player is learning that the day job never included defensive slides. Rough little moment. Illegal, and expensive. The firefighter gets the goaltending call and the basket counts. Long day at the office, longer night under the rim.

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

The player makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. Hard drive, hard stop, and Yoda retreats into an ocean of open hardwood. Way short from Yoda off the bounce, the ball dies on the front of the rim and drops into traffic.

Off to the locker room. Sonic the Hedgehog has already drained two water bottles. True story: Sonic the Hedgehog walked into the wrong locker room during his first game against Minnesota Ice-Wall. Awkward. 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?' Second half! The crowd is on its feet, and so are the players.

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.

Cross court, on a rope, from the jedi master. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. The firefighter runs a dribble handoff with the timing of a fifteen-year vet. Not bad for somebody who does this on weekends. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Sonic the Hedgehog scooped that in from underneath the rim!

Sonic the Hedgehog points at Shintaro Midorima first, then at the pass that made it possible, then at Shintaro Midorima again, making sure the building knows who did the real work. Shintaro Midorima waves it off, embarrassed. The chant that starts up is not for the scorer.

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Sonic the Hedgehog threw it before the help even committed. Lazy one-hander from Bonnie Blue through the middle of the floor, and the defender did not even have to leave his feet to take it.

OHHHH, what a read by Yoda! He never even glanced at the rim and it is CASH on the other end. That is a forced shot from the firefighter that was doomed the moment it left the hand, and the bench has quietly decided to look at the floor for a moment.

That is the pass nobody puts on a highlight reel, and Yoda makes it every single trip down the floor. The player just created his own space with a stepback. Somewhere a scout is spitting coffee all over his notepad. Shintaro Midorima went for the deep heat check and produced the loudest silence of the night, roar to OHHHH in half a second.

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

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Sonic the Hedgehog just did it by hitting Yoda on the back side with acres of room. GONE down the baseline! Yoda beat him on the first step and the paint is collapsing. Yoda beat the clock by a tenth of a second and missed by about four feet. Technically legal, competitively pointless.

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

The player reads the screen perfectly, comes off shoulder to shoulder, and buys himself an open look. Veteran movement, rookie resume. That is what heavy minutes do, Sonic the Hedgehog has run all night and the legs have nothing left to give the jumper. Muscled away at the second jump by Sonic the Hedgehog, and this offense resets with a fresh shot clock. Up over the box out, and Sonic the Hedgehog catches it clean and finishes strong through the contact. Somebody just got posterized.

Sonic the Hedgehog 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. Bonnie Blue grabs his shoulders from behind and shakes him like a snow globe. The floor is genuinely vibrating.

The crew chief has the headset on, three angles on the screen, everybody in here staring at Bonnie Blue. The tv host is finding out what this league does to people. It hands you the moment, then it rolls the tape.

Bonnie Blue shakes Shintaro Midorima's hand in silence. Not a word. Just a look that says it all. 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! Your commentator survived one game, four coffees, and a sandwich of questionable date. Good evening! Now: 'Destination Unknown: The Roundabout in Scranton, PA.' Total adventure.

Matchday 9 — vs Houston Blast-Off

79-123 (L)

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

Pass, cut, catch, wide open. Four things in about a second and a half from Yoda. BANG is what Yoda was hearing in his head. Clang is what this building actually got.

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

Ball up the floor, change of speed right at the logo, and Sonic the Hedgehog already has the defense a full step behind. The player turns clean out of two bodies in the paint. That is nowhere in the job description and yet here we are. That is a dime from Bonnie Blue that deserved so much better, and Shintaro Midorima knows it, head down, jogging back before the ball even lands.

Yoda launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Shintaro Midorima eats the contact so Angry Grandpa can run free along the baseline, and the catch-and-shoot look is right there. The firefighter 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.

End of the first half. Sonic the Hedgehog is beet red but still standing. Fun fact: Sonic the Hedgehog is unbeatable at arm wrestling in the locker room. Even the center is scared. And now, our halftime TV game show Last Call Bingo! To win a lifetime pass to a museum of regional soil, text HOOPS to 555-0150 and answer this question: 'How many people does it take to change a light bulb in a scoreboard?' The hardwood awaits. Here we go for the second half.

Watch the change of pace from Sonic the Hedgehog, half speed into full speed in one step, and that is a blow-by every time. OHHHH, the cylinder rejects the player! Somewhere a whole workplace just yelled at a television.

Laser from Yoda, corner to corner, and that closeout gets there about a second and a half too late. The player just made the extra pass with a clean look of his own! You do not run into that kind of selflessness at the office! Sonic the Hedgehog whips the extra pass across the arc, Bonnie Blue rises without a dribble, and SPLASH.

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

Ejection for the player. Forty hours a week of keeping it together, and it all came apart in one swing under the rim.

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

One little shoulder dip from Sonic the Hedgehog and the guy guarding him turned into a traffic cone in real time. Three free throws for the player! That is the single most expensive mistake in basketball, and a person with a real day job just engineered it.

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

Five bodies moving as one, Angry Grandpa barking out every rotation, and there is not a crack anywhere in this thing. Shintaro Midorima reads the eyes the whole way, gets a mitt on it, and that is OUR basketball now.

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.

Sonic the Hedgehog walks it up, two fingers in the air, and the whole offense shifts on his command. Whirl, and GONE! Bonnie Blue leaves the defender grabbing at a jersey that stopped being there half a second ago. Rises, releases, and Bonnie Blue sends the ball through the exact patch of sky where the rim is not.

They just emptied an entire pro floor for the player. Read that back to yourself and tell me this league is normal. BAAAANG! Shintaro Midorima drills the three AND gets hammered! The four point play is ON.

Shintaro Midorima 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.

Bonnie Blue chews her nails on the bench. Yoda stares at his shoes like they're the source of the problem. And here is the answer to our game Last Call Bingo! Leon Poteet of Fence Post, Hawaii, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many people does it take to change a light bulb in a scoreboard?' The answer was of course four, plus one man who insists he could have done it alone. Leon takes home a lifetime pass to a museum of regional soil! I drank so much coffee tonight I'm going to commentate in my sleep. Good night! And now: 'Naked and Afraid: Lost in the Shopping Mall.'

Matchday 10 — vs Denver Horse-Track

84-128 (L)

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

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

Towels are FLYING for the player! Going back to the day job on Monday is going to feel extremely strange after a night like this. Snatched! Sonic the Hedgehog came out of NOWHERE for that one.

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

You can teach the jumper, you cannot teach the willingness, and Shintaro Midorima gives up a decent shot every single time a better one exists. Missed layup for the player and the whole arena groans as one. Great hands in the day job, apparently they do not travel.

End of the first act. Yoda is puffing like a steam engine heading back. Confession: Yoda believes the away locker room is haunted. Refuses to go in alone. 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?' Resumption imminent. The players wrap up their express warm-up.

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

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

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.

Buzzer on the shot clock, Shintaro Midorima heaves it off one leg, and the ball comes up short of everything. Second-chance points are how you steal games on the road, and Yoda has now cleaned up four misses tonight. The extra pass! Yoda had the look, gave it up anyway, and Angry Grandpa buries it. BANG! Count it AND the foul! Angry Grandpa refused to be denied at the rim.

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

The tv host 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. He stays out there with five, which tells you how much this coach trusts Bonnie Blue and how little he trusts anybody else.

The player makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. Give and go! Angry Grandpa gives it up, cuts, and gets it right back with a clear lane to the cup! Twenty-four seconds of standing around, and Angry Grandpa has to eat the last two of them. Possession wasted long before the shot went up.

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

Here is the part that never makes the highlight package: Sonic the Hedgehog controlling tempo, burning clock, hunting the mismatch the second one shows up. OHHHHH HE SNATCHED HIS ANKLES! Yoda left him on the hardwood and this building is SHAKING! Yoda attacks the baseline, the big man steps up to meet him, and it does not matter one bit. FILTHY.

Take the foul, live with whatever happens at the line. Sonic the Hedgehog clamps down on the ball handler and the whistle does the rest.

Sonic the Hedgehog closes his eyes walking out. Angry Grandpa keeps his wide open, fixed, empty. 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 my colleague told me I smell like stress. I told him it was my cologne. We're signing off. And now: 'Musical Chairs: Subway Seat Edition.' Winner takes all.

Matchday 11 — vs New York Over-Timers

74-118 (L)

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

The player pops to the arc and buries it, and nobody in this building believes that man clocks in somewhere in the morning. Straight back to the office for the player, and the group chat has already seen it twice.

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

Offensive foul on the player. He gets through an entire work week without a single collision and then does THIS on a basketball floor.

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

Break! Yoda takes his jersey off before even reaching the locker room. Fun fact: Yoda tried to patent a celebration after a three-pointer. The application was rejected. And now, our halftime TV game show The Newlywed Timeout! To win a family size bag of off brand cheese puffs, text HOOPS to 555-0472 and answer this question: 'How far away can a scoreboard buzzer be heard by a dog?' On to the next chapter. The court is just waiting for the ball.

Technical on the jedi master! He argues with people all day at work and loses those too, only this one costs a free throw.

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

The drive gets a step, Angry Grandpa stays down, waits for the release, and hammers it off the glass.

Set called, Shintaro Midorima waved out to the corner, and Sonic the Hedgehog watches the spacing open up like a front door. Shintaro Midorima rips it back into the stepback and suddenly there is a country mile between him and that defender. From eight feet Shintaro Midorima puts way too much on it, and the ball clears the rim entirely.

Dribble alive, patient, patient, and then Sonic the Hedgehog slips it to Bonnie Blue right in the pocket. Surgical. The tv host baits the contact, gets the whistle, and struts to the line like a ten-year pro. His boss is watching this and quietly rethinking next week's schedule. This is exactly why the coach wants the ball in his hands late. Bonnie Blue has been money at that line all season long.

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

That crossover was not about getting a shot up. Shintaro Midorima pulled it out to tell everybody in the gym whose possession this is. Down, up, and gone for Shintaro Midorima. The rim is just toying with him now.

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.

Somebody explain how the player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Angry Grandpa comes off the screen and the big man drops WAY back. Sonic the Hedgehog just fades to the arc for the cleanest look of the night. Zero hesitation, zero conscience. Sonic the Hedgehog made that closeout look completely pointless.

Shimmy from the corner all the way to half court, shoulders loose, chin high. Sonic the Hedgehog 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.

You can teach a lot of things at this level, but not lateral quickness. Shintaro Midorima is doing a fine traffic cone impression. Personal foul on the jedi master. Somewhere a shift is going uncovered and not one soul in this arena cares.

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

Shintaro Midorima walks head down toward the tunnel. Sonic the Hedgehog drags his feet behind, shoulders slumped. And here is the answer to our game show The Newlywed Timeout! Dewey Spillman of Frostbite Flats, Minnesota, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How far away can a scoreboard buzzer be heard by a dog?' The answer was of course three and a half miles, and the dog does not care for it. Dewey therefore wins a family size bag of off brand cheese puffs! Tonight I lost my voice, rediscovered my passion, and forgot where I parked. A complete evening. And now, a brand new episode of 'Desperately Seeking My Cat.' Good night, everyone.

Matchday 12 — vs Cleveland Twin-Towers

90-134 (L)

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

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Yoda breaks a shell down. The player takes the baseline and bends an entire defense out of shape. Absolutely absurd stuff in this building tonight. The player 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.

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

Five straight misses now for Bonnie Blue, and every voice in that huddle has gone quiet. The offense stalls, Shintaro Midorima gets stuck on the wing with no exit and nobody flashing open, and the shot clock eats him alive.

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Yoda has known that all night long. They do not teach that in the tv host handbook, and yet here we are. Beautiful little exchange. The player just spun through two defenders and reversed that in. Nothing about this is a normal Tuesday!

Break time. Yoda bolts to the locker room without looking at anyone. Fun fact: Yoda got rejected at a casting for a deodorant commercial. The irony. 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?' The buzzer calls the players. Time for the show, act II.

Eight seconds off the shot clock and Sonic the Hedgehog has not wasted one of them, the ball reaching Yoda precisely where the play wanted it. Nobody is getting a hand near that. Yoda has all the room in the world. Nobody drew up that arc. The jedi master floated one halfway to the rafters, and the rim never even got a say.

Yoda wraps him up with nobody between the ball and the rim, and the officials do not hesitate for a second. The jedi master gets clotheslined and pops right back up. Two shots, the ball, and a story for every customer he sees this week.

Shintaro Midorima launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Sonic the Hedgehog just took a shoulder to the chest to buy Angry Grandpa half a second, and half a second in this league is an eternity. The firefighter launched one from the logo as the horn sounded. In fairness, nobody in that huddle gave him a better option.

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

Yoda drives, draws two bodies, and swings it one more time to the corner. That is the pass nobody is required to make. DOUBLE DRIBBLE! Bonnie Blue picked it up, put it back down, and the whistle went off like a smoke alarm.

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

The press did exactly what it was drawn up to do. Shintaro Midorima panicked, the timeline did the rest, and the defense gets a turnover without stealing a thing.

The tv host just got tossed for a flagrant two, and somewhere a shift supervisor is watching this on a break room TV in absolute horror.

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

That hesitation move is exactly why they keep sending a second body at Sonic the Hedgehog the moment he crosses half court. Stop on a dime, up and over those outstretched arms, and the center can only stand there and watch Sonic the Hedgehog walk away from it.

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

Bonnie Blue hurls her mouthguard into the trash. Yoda keeps his in, chewing on the frustration. 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! I spent the fourth quarter standing. Not by choice. My chair gave out in the third. Good evening! Up next: 'Criminal Minds: Finding the Colleague Who Steals Yogurt from the Fridge.'

Matchday 13 — vs Boston Ring-Chasers

83-127 (L)

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and Sonic the Hedgehog drops it off to Angry Grandpa on time and on target. The firefighter just created his own space with a stepback. Somewhere a scout is spitting coffee all over his notepad. Angry Grandpa gets to his spot in the lane, lifts the runner over the big man, and leaves it a foot short. No dice.

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

Somebody explain how the player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Angry Grandpa tries to force it through two bodies and finds nothing but the defender's hands.

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

Sonic the Hedgehog did that, and now the loudest twelve people in this arena are all wearing the same uniform he is. PICKED HIS POCKET! Shintaro Midorima jumps the passing lane and he is GONE the other way!

Both teams head to the locker room. Bonnie Blue wipes her forehead with her jersey. Confession: Bonnie Blue tried yoga. Lasted two sessions before declaring it a combat sport. And now, our halftime TV game show Double Dare You! To win a three-pound bag of gas station beef jerky, text HOOPS to 555-0091 and answer this question: 'How many times does a basketball bounce before it forgives you?' We're back at it. The crowd had time to reload at the snack bar.

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 Shintaro Midorima does. Shintaro Midorima had that one all the way, perfect release, perfect arc, and the rim simply refuses to let it drop.

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

Everybody in the arena knew the stepback was coming from Sonic the Hedgehog, and not one single soul could do anything about it. The player tried the teardrop and never got it to the rim. Turns out soft touch does not come standard with that day job. Hustle play of the night so far. Sonic the Hedgehog gave up his ribs for one extra possession and the bench is on its feet. BAAAANG! Sonic the Hedgehog rips the offensive board and puts it right back through!

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

The defender crowded the middle, and Yoda punished him along the baseline like it was drawn up in the huddle. You are about to see a coach put his entire face in both hands, and Yoda has earned every second of that reaction.

Court vision like that on the player is absurd. Whatever the day job pays him, the assist numbers say he is badly underpriced. The firefighter just double dribbled in front of a sold-out building. Nobody back at work is ever letting that one go.

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

Eyes on the ball, brain somewhere else, and both feet parked in the paint. Bonnie Blue has to give that one back.

Boston Ring-Chasers again, and again nobody is home. Three straight trips down the floor with zero resistance.

The 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. The jedi master just ran that two-man game like he has a decade of film on it. Somebody get this man a contract. Kick out to Sonic the Hedgehog, one more to Shintaro Midorima, splash from the wing and this bench is on its feet. Range like that bends a defense completely out of shape, and Shintaro Midorima keeps proving the arc is only a suggestion.

Shintaro Midorima deadpans directly into the broadcast camera: nod, wink, gone. Total elapsed time, one and a half seconds. The commentators lose it completely. Yoda arrives too late and mugs at an empty lens for nobody at all.

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Shintaro Midorima just did it by hitting Sonic the Hedgehog on the back side with acres of room. The player just froze a grown professional with a hesitation dribble. This man punches a clock and he is out here doing THAT. Angry Grandpa threads a BEAUTY to Sonic the Hedgehog under the rim and... he lays it off the bottom of the iron! Ohhhh, no.

Yoda takes off his shoes and carries them like a ghost. Bonnie Blue follows the same path. And here is the answer to our game Double Dare You! Opal Sisk of Nickel Plate, Colorado, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many times does a basketball bounce before it forgives you?' The answer was of course six, and the seventh is only out of politeness. Opal takes home a three-pound bag of gas station beef jerky! 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 14 — vs San Antonio Skyscrapers

76-121 (L)

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

The jedi master just rotated over and shut the paint down like a shift change. Where does THAT defensive IQ come from? Contested! Yoda makes him change it in midair.

Turnover, layup, San Antonio Skyscrapers straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Cross court, on a rope, from the player. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. A full spin move through traffic from the player! Whatever they teach in that trade, footwork is apparently part of it. Off the dribble, a full step behind the logo, straight down. Tomorrow the player goes back to work, tonight he owns this arena.

Shintaro Midorima 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.

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

Break! Bonnie Blue grabs an ice bag and slaps it on her knee. Little secret: Bonnie Blue listens to Celine Dion to focus. I repeat, Celine Dion. And now, our halftime TV game show Wheel of Misfortune! To win a lifetime supply of expired coupons, text HOOPS to 555-0142 and answer this question: 'How many hot dogs fit inside a regulation gym locker if you really commit?' Back for seconds. The court is shining, and so are the players.

Oldest play in the book and it still works: Yoda passes, the defender peeks at the ball, and that one beat is the whole possession. Fifth possession this half where Yoda has been left to bail everybody out with the clock at zero. He cannot keep doing this alone.

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

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and Sonic the Hedgehog drops it off to Yoda on time and on target. Yoda crosses, crosses back, the defender slides half a step the wrong way and the whole arena lets out the same OHHHH. Somebody check that job title again: the jedi master hanging in the air like the paint owes him rent, and finishing anyway.

Beautiful footwork on that one from Shintaro Midorima, the pivot foot never budges, which is precisely why the whistle stays in the pocket. Late contest, Shintaro Midorima steps into the contact, whistle blows, and the entire bench puts their hands on their heads.

No roll this time. Sonic the Hedgehog swings it right back to Bonnie Blue above the break, and it is PURE. Bonnie Blue rises, the big man rises higher, and the shot is stuffed into the second row. Return to sender.

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

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Sonic the Hedgehog has known that all night long. Straight down the baseline goes the tv host! Whatever shift he worked this morning, he clearly left plenty in the tank. That is the shot chart lying to you. Bonnie Blue did everything right on this possession and has zero points to show for it.

Shintaro Midorima launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Here comes the slip from Shintaro Midorima, and Angry Grandpa reads it a half second before anybody else in the building. Gift wrapped by Angry Grandpa, and Shintaro Midorima cannot finish the two footer. That one is going to sting.

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

The jedi master 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 player tried the teardrop and never got it to the rim. Turns out soft touch does not come standard with that day job.

Bonnie Blue takes off her shoes and carries them like a ghost. Yoda follows the same path. And here is the answer to our game Wheel of Misfortune! Darlene Puckett of Lower Buttermilk, Kansas, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many hot dogs fit inside a regulation gym locker if you really commit?' The answer was of course four hundred and six, and the coach has never spoken of it since. Darlene takes home a lifetime supply of expired coupons! Tonight I learned Bonnie Blue used to be a volunteer firefighter before basketball. Found out during a timeout. Threw me off completely. Until next time! Up next: 'Life Unplugged: A Day Without WiFi.' A shocking documentary.

Matchday 15 — vs Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest

90-134 (L)

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

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.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Angry Grandpa just gift wrapped three free throws on a heat check. Fourth personal on Angry Grandpa. The arena groans, the bench goes silent, and the other team just spotted daylight.

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

In a game this tight, Bonnie Blue cannot be giving away a free point over a call that was never coming back. Unforgivable. You could see this coming three possessions ago, Bonnie Blue had been chirping nonstop since that first technical.

Halftime. The doctor examines Shintaro Midorima's shoulder while the others catch their breath. Did you know? Shintaro Midorima launched a basketball podcast. Two episodes. Zero listeners. Still going. And now, our halftime TV game show Storage Wars of the Half-Empty Unit! To win a bag of nine hundred rubber bands from a post office, text HOOPS to 555-0278 and answer this question: 'How many folding tables does a county fair actually own?' Come on, second half! The best is yet to come. Or the worst. Who knows.

Sonic the Hedgehog rips it back into the stepback and suddenly there is a country mile between him and that defender. The player just dunked on two grown men and drew the foul. Whatever that job pays, it is not enough.

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

Trapped in the corner of the backcourt, Bonnie Blue picks up his dribble, and the clock does the rest.

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

This is the counter: Sonic the Hedgehog punished a defense that kept going under, and now they have to rip up the game plan. AIRBALL! Shintaro Midorima missed the rim, the backboard and everything in between!

GET THAT OUTTA HERE! Bonnie Blue says NOT in my house!

Ball moves. Sonic the Hedgehog to Shintaro Midorima, on time and on target. A probe, a plant of the outside foot, and Shintaro Midorima pushes off while his man is still fighting to recover his balance. The crowd has found its chant, and Shintaro Midorima is going to be hearing it all night.

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

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

Nine seconds to work with, one play call, and it runs through Bonnie Blue. When the game shrinks like this, you go to your guy. Sonic the Hedgehog delivers on the second option, Bonnie Blue buries it, and the coach is already walking back to the bench like he knew. He did know.

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

Angry Grandpa lets out a big exhale walking through the door. Sonic the Hedgehog holds his in. And here is the answer to our game Storage Wars of the Half-Empty Unit! Verna Lou Cottongim of Flat Tire, Arizona, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many folding tables does a county fair actually own?' The answer was of course nobody knows, because they multiply in the off-season. Verna Lou takes home a bag of nine hundred rubber bands from a post office! I spent the evening standing up and sitting down every thirty seconds. My Fitbit is congratulating me. Good night everyone! Up next: 'Worst Cooks in America: Boiling an Egg Without Breaking It.' Challenge accepted.