My dream starting five — basketball_team 🇺🇸

Matchday 1 — vs Detroit Engine-Roar

82-127 (L)

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

Nobody dribbled, nobody isolated, Jesus Christ and Thanos just played basketball and the defense got shredded. Jesus Christ rises, the big man rises higher, and the shot is stuffed into the second row. Return to sender.

GET THAT OUTTA HERE! Zeus meets that jumper at the top of its flight and spikes it into the sideline. Rebound to fast break in one motion, courtesy of the superhero. That is not a hobby, that is a skill set. Two defenders in the lane, Jesus Christ splits them, double clutches and kisses it off the square. Count it!

Kisses the biceps, one and then the other, and Jesus Christ strolls to the free throw line like a man on vacation. Godzilla fans him with a rolled-up game program. The bench is in tears. Even the guy running the game clock is grinning into his monitor.

Cross court, on a rope, from the messiah. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. Whirl, and GONE! Zeus leaves the defender grabbing at a jersey that stopped being there half a second ago. Rises, releases, and Zeus sends the ball through the exact patch of sky where the rim is not.

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 players disappear. Harry Potter has a makeshift neck brace out of a towel. Anecdote: Harry Potter tried to impress the Detroit Engine-Roar players with a warm-up dunk. Hit the rim. With his face. And now, our halftime TV game show Pawn Stars of the Neighborhood! To win a corn dog the size of a mailbox, already gone cold, text HOOPS to 555-0433 and answer this question: 'What is the average airspeed of a paper airplane thrown from the upper deck?' Second half! The hardwood is about to shake again.

The ball travels faster than five defenders can, and Thanos has known that all night long. You could hear the whole building groan, and Harry Potter knew it the second the ball left his fingers, already jogging back on defense.

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

Body to body all the way to the rim and the arm goes up. That is on Zeus, and this crew is not letting anything go tonight. FIVE on Zeus. One more and his night is finished.

The quidditch player just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. Harry Potter eats the contact so Thanos can run free along the baseline, and the catch-and-shoot look is right there. 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! BAAAANG! Zeus from the logo, and the entire bench is on its feet losing its mind!

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

Harry Potter walks it up, two fingers in the air, and the whole offense shifts on his command. Down screen, and Thanos curls hard into the middle of the floor with a full step of daylight. Easy read. Up goes the shot from Thanos and that is nothing but AIR, and every soul in this building saw it happen.

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

Bodies everywhere in the paint and it does not matter one bit to Jesus Christ, one spin and the ball never leaves the string. Somewhere an assistant coach is throwing a clipboard, because the messiah baited that closeout from deep like a decade of film study went into it.

SKIP PASS! Jesus Christ fires it cross court to Godzilla and the defense is dead in the water! Read, screen, delivery, right on the money. A player making the right pass every single time, and the league is taking notes. A cruel spin-out for the quidditch player, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart.

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

The help defender committed way too early, and Jesus Christ made him pay for it with a spin they will be replaying all week. Shot clock at one, and Jesus Christ just has to throw something at the rim. Nothing doing.

Harry Potter taps the tunnel wall as if trying to pass through it. Jesus Christ walks through the door without pushing it. And here is the answer to our game Pawn Stars of the Neighborhood! Bud Applewhite of Cornbread Hill, Oregon, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'What is the average airspeed of a paper airplane thrown from the upper deck?' The answer was of course roughly one usher per second. Bud takes home a corn dog the size of a mailbox, already gone cold! Tonight I chewed through two pens. The office supply budget is going to explode. Thanks for tonight. Up next: 'American Ninja Warrior: No Elevator Edition.' Sixth floor, no landing.

Matchday 2 — vs Miami Heart-Attack

80-124 (L)

Tip is UP and Zeus gets there first! We are underway and it is our ball.

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

Off the pin-down comes the messiah with nobody inside a zip code. Somebody out there knows how to use a screen, and it is not who you would guess. The messiah just spun through two defenders and reversed that in. Nothing about this is a normal Tuesday!

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

The quidditch player just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. Nobody is getting a hand near that. Jesus Christ has all the room in the world. From eight feet Jesus Christ puts way too much on it, and the ball clears the rim entirely.

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

Halftime whistle. Harry Potter spits into the trash can walking into the locker room. Fun fact: Harry Potter failed the driving test three times. On the court it's a different story, thankfully. 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?' We resume. Eyes locked in, jaws clenched.

Set called, Zeus waved out to the corner, and Harry Potter watches the spacing open up like a front door. Oldest play in the book and it still works: Zeus passes, the defender peeks at the ball, and that one beat is the whole possession. The superhero 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.

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

Straight down the baseline goes the messiah! Whatever shift he worked this morning, he clearly left plenty in the tank. Long miss from the messiah and the rebound goes the other way, but let the record show that most people in that line of work never even get to take that shot.

More second chance points for Miami Heart-Attack, and our bench is up screaming for a timeout. Rightly so.

Here is the part that never makes the highlight package: Harry Potter controlling tempo, burning clock, hunting the mismatch the second one shows up. The big rolls, the defense collapses, and Zeus punishes it with a read most guys never even see. Rising into two defenders, Jesus Christ launches a jumper that finds nothing but backboard and bad decisions.

Swing, swing, and Jesus Christ finds Harry Potter on the wing before the help can even turn its head. Watch Thanos plant his feet, absorb the hit, and spring Harry Potter out of that corner in a blink. Heat check for Harry Potter and it is GOOD. He is COOKING, and this building knows exactly what it is watching.

The quidditch player makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. Hesitate, GO. Zeus is by that hip before the man even blinks. Textbook footwork, textbook release from Zeus, cruel result as it spins out and both teams go up for a contested board.

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

Ten to nothing. Godzilla is COOKING and there is not one answer on that other bench. Hands on hips over there, a clipboard down on the chair, and it is all because of what Jesus Christ just did.

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

Harry Potter stands alone at center court as the lights go dim. Jesus Christ comes back to get him. 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 favorite commentator survived. It's not much, but it's honest work. That's all for tonight! Coming up: 'CSI: Underground Parking Garage.' Riveting stuff.

Matchday 3 — vs Orlando Magic-Beans

88-133 (L)

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

The quidditch player pulls out the crossover of his life, and Monday morning he clocks in like nothing ever happened. Stonewalled at the top of the square! The big man meets Harry Potter up there and returns it with interest.

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

Godzilla gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Jesus Christ saw it a beat early. A cut with that timing from the player? He is on the clock somewhere else all week and he still found time to learn the two-man game. Nobody drew up that arc. The player floated one halfway to the rafters, and the rim never even got a say.

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

Break! Zeus takes his jersey off before even reaching the locker room. Did you know Zeus plays better when it's raining outside? Even indoors. Go figure. 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?' Here they come. You can read the determination on their faces.

Total control. Harry Potter has this thing on a string. Right idea, no zip on it, and at this level Jesus Christ either puts some heat on that ball or he keeps it in his hands.

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

One little shoulder dip from Jesus Christ and the guy guarding him turned into a traffic cone in real time. That is body control you simply cannot coach: Jesus Christ stays up a full beat longer than everybody else and finishes clean.

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

Somebody explain how the quidditch player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Give and go! Jesus Christ gives it up, cuts, and gets it right back with a clear lane to the cup! The messiah tried the teardrop and never got it to the rim. Turns out soft touch does not come standard with that day job.

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

Bucket for bucket! Zeus answers, the other guy answers right back, and nobody is blinking!

Cross court, on a rope, from the quidditch player. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. 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 Zeus does. The superhero launched one from the logo as the horn sounded. In fairness, nobody in that huddle gave him a better option.

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

Zeus sets it and slides out instead of rolling, Harry Potter finds him late, and the defense pays for cheating under the screen. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Two points in every gym in America except this one, and Zeus is walking back with both hands on his head. You want to know why this team keeps winning the possession battle? Harry Potter treats every miss like it belongs to him. Miss, tip, bucket. Harry Potter makes his living in the wreckage.

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 is finding out what this league does to people. It hands you the moment, then it rolls the tape.

Godzilla walks like someone carrying the weight of the world. Zeus drags one foot after the other. 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! Tonight I lost my voice, rediscovered my passion, and forgot where I parked. A complete evening. Good night everyone! Coming up: 'Boot Camp: Supermarket Checkout Line Edition.' Discipline.

Matchday 4 — vs Philadelphia Injury-Report

86-130 (L)

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

This is the part of the league nobody loves and everybody watches: Godzilla waits with both hands on top of his head. Three points for the player, courtesy of one camera angle. Somewhere a boss is watching this and rethinking the whole staffing plan.

Right through the window. Thanos to Zeus on the roll, and the help was a half step late. Pull-up from the elbow by Zeus, halfway down, spinning inside the iron, and it pops right back out.

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

Push the pace! Harry Potter grabs it and hits Zeus in stride before the defense can even match up. The superhero just ran a give and go to perfection on national television! Somebody go tell his boss what he does after hours! OHHHH, that one died in the air! Zeus put nothing into it and the front rim eats the floater.

Both teams head to the locker room. Zeus wipes his forehead with his jersey. Quick anecdote about Zeus: apparently he eats pasta with ketchup before every game. To each their own ritual. And now, our halftime TV game show Password Please Try Again! To win an exercise machine holding the same folded laundry since 2009, text HOOPS to 555-0891 and answer this question: 'What do you call the fifth quarter if nobody agrees it happened?' The players are back. Some look fresh, others... Not so much.

REJECTED! Godzilla gets ALL of that jumper and the building erupts!

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

The messiah just moved an entire defense with one flick of the wrist. Somebody check that resume again. Screened, toasted, done. Harry Potter is loose and the defense is scrambling to find him. Two on the shot clock and the ball ends up with the quidditch player, which is how you get a twenty-eight footer off the wrong foot.

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

Shot clock violation! Harry Potter owns the nail, the middle is a no fly zone, and that possession just expired in their hands.

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

The quidditch 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. Jesus Christ turns the corner off the screen from Thanos, the help never rotates, and the lane is WIDE open! Gift wrapped by Harry Potter, and Thanos cannot finish the two footer. That one is going to sting.

Cross court, on a rope, from the player. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. The player just created his own space with a stepback. Somewhere a scout is spitting coffee all over his notepad. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Godzilla rose up over the help and hammered it down on somebody's head!

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

You want basketball IQ? Ask the quidditch player, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. OHHHH the separation! Thanos just manufactured three feet of daylight out of absolutely nothing. The crowd has found its chant, and Thanos is going to be hearing it all night.

Jesus Christ unclasps his chain and squeezes it in his fist. Harry Potter runs a hand down his face. And here is the answer to our game show Password Please Try Again! Curtis Pruitt of Bent Spoon, Utah, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What do you call the fifth quarter if nobody agrees it happened?' The answer was of course the honor quarter, and the score from it is kept exclusively by uncles. Curtis therefore wins an exercise machine holding the same folded laundry since 2009! During the game, I counted how many times I said 'incredible.' Seventeen. A personal record. Until next time! Up next: 'Kitchen Nightmares: Corporate Cafeteria.' This is gonna be good.

Matchday 5 — vs Phoenix No-Defense

80-125 (L)

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

Ball up the floor, change of speed right at the logo, and Harry Potter already has the defense a full step behind. OHHHH he went BACKDOOR! Godzilla never broke stride and he has the ball UNDER THE RIM! The big man never even contested it, and Godzilla still could not get the runner to drop. That one is on him.

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.

One hard step and Thanos owns that whole side of the floor, which means the low man has to make a decision he does not want. Thanos lets it FLY from way downtown and... front rim. Not this time.

Jesus Christ launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. Baseline spin from Harry Potter at full speed, and his man never even gets a hand into the picture. Filthy stuff. Nasty finish. Harry Potter hangs, adjusts in midair, and drops it through.

Harry Potter 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. Zeus grabs his shoulders from behind and shakes him like a snow globe. The floor is genuinely vibrating.

Break! Thanos has left a puddle of sweat at every step through the tunnel. Did you know? Thanos once signed an autograph for a referee. During the game. Mid free-throw. 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?' We resume. Eyes locked in, jaws clenched.

Court vision like that on the messiah is absurd. Whatever the day job pays him, the assist numbers say he is badly underpriced. Blocked into the floor. Godzilla will be seeing that one in his sleep.

Harry Potter rips it back into the stepback and suddenly there is a country mile between him and that defender. AIRBALL! Harry Potter missed the rim, the backboard and everything in between!

The defender crowded the middle, and Thanos punished him along the baseline like it was drawn up in the huddle. DOUBLE DRIBBLE! Thanos picked it up, put it back down, and the whistle went off like a smoke alarm.

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

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Jesus Christ just did it by hitting Godzilla on the back side with acres of room. A player breaking down a professional defender in front of a sold out house! Remember that day job, folks! OHHHH, the cylinder rejects the player! Somewhere a whole workplace just yelled at a television.

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

You want basketball IQ? Ask the messiah, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. The player reads the screen perfectly, comes off shoulder to shoulder, and buys himself an open look. Veteran movement, rookie resume. Godzilla hands it off to Jesus Christ, slices through the seam, and the return pass is sitting there waiting at the rim. That little shot is what keeps guards employed in this league, and Godzilla has it on a string tonight.

Godzilla 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.

Laser from Harry Potter, corner to corner, and that closeout gets there about a second and a half too late. Zeus feels the contact, spins off that shoulder, and the defender is left hugging a whole lot of nothing. Not close, not warm, not anywhere for Zeus, straight into the hands of a defender who never had to leave his feet.

Harry Potter slides, closes out, recovers. The ball goes all the way around the perimeter and comes back with nothing. The player out here on the deck fighting for loose balls. Nobody pays him for that, and he could not care less.

Godzilla stares at the floor while Thanos mutters something inaudible under his breath. And here is the answer to our game show Fear Factor Free Throws! Charlene Bumgarner of Hushpuppy Ridge, New Hampshire, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many miles does a coach pace during a close game?' The answer was of course two point six miles, all of it inside a nine foot box. Charlene therefore wins a truck bed liner for a truck nobody in the family owns! Tonight I had a revelation: Thanos runs exactly like my neighbor when he misses the bus. Thanks for being here. Now put down the remote, it's time for 'Wheel of Misfortune.'

Matchday 6 — vs Los Angeles Nursing-Home

85-130 (L)

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

Ball moves. Thanos to Jesus Christ, on time and on target. The messiah just ran that two-man game like he has a decade of film on it. Somebody get this man a contract. Unselfish basketball. Harry Potter passes up a good shot and hands Jesus Christ a GREAT one. Stepback three from the messiah, ice in his veins. You cannot teach that, and apparently you cannot keep it out of the workforce either.

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

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

Somewhere there is a shift with the player written on it for tomorrow morning. Tonight he is out here erasing shots.

Turnover, layup, Los Angeles Nursing-Home straight through us in transition. Careless basketball.

Finally a breather. Godzilla has calf cramps, the physio rushes over. Staff confession: Godzilla is afraid of pigeons. Not 7-foot centers, no. Pigeons. And now, our halftime TV game show Jeopar-Dee-Dee! To win a mounted singing bass that only knows half the song, text HOOPS to 555-0305 and answer this question: 'How much does a rumor weigh at sea level?' Second half! The crowd is on its feet, and so are the players.

Ball into Thanos at the elbow, Jesus Christ plants his foot and goes backdoor, and the pass meets him in the air. Filthy. Ohhh no. Jesus Christ just walked. In front of everybody.

The player takes the baseline and bends an entire defense out of shape. Absolutely absurd stuff in this building tonight. Nobody touched him, nobody trapped him, and Thanos still coughed it up. Easiest whistle these officials will blow all night.

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

A probe, a plant of the outside foot, and Harry Potter pushes off while his man is still fighting to recover his balance. The quidditch player just turned a straight-up mugging into a three-point play. Whatever the day job pays, it is nowhere near enough.

Straight down the baseline goes the messiah! Whatever shift he worked this morning, he clearly left plenty in the tank. In, around, and gone. The iron gives Jesus Christ nothing.

Shot clock down to two, Harry Potter throws up a prayer from twenty six feet, and it is not answered. Whistle, red light, nothing to show for it. Thanos hands it over.

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.

Jesus Christ kicks it over to Godzilla, no dribble, no drama, and this offense settles into a rhythm. Screen, roll, DELIVERY from Godzilla! Nothing but runway to the rim! Getting to his spot and elevating, Zeus puts it on the back iron, up over the front, and out. Half a rotation from two points.

Over the top of everybody. Jesus Christ to Godzilla in the corner, wide open, catch and rise. Straight down the baseline goes the player! Whatever shift he worked this morning, he clearly left plenty in the tank. Fifth possession this half where Godzilla has been left to bail everybody out with the clock at zero. He cannot keep doing this alone.

Watch the sell from Harry Potter here, he leans in, he gets the defender leaning with him, and then he backs away into all that space. REJECTED! Harry Potter takes it in and gets it sent straight back into his own chest.

Thanos taps the tunnel wall as if trying to pass through it. Godzilla walks through the door without pushing it. And here is the answer to our game Jeopar-Dee-Dee! Ludene Crabtree of Dry Creek Junction, Oklahoma, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How much does a rumor weigh at sea level?' The answer was of course a pound and a half, considerably more in humid weather. Ludene takes home a mounted singing bass that only knows half the song! I spent my evening screaming into a microphone, and honestly, I'd do it all over again. Good evening! Coming up: 'Dancing with the Stars: My Cousin's Wedding Edition.' Open bar.

Matchday 7 — vs Toronto Border-Patrol

74-119 (L)

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

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

Slap across the wrist, and the crew saw every bit of it. Godzilla pays for that one. He stays out there with five, which tells you how much this coach trusts Godzilla and how little he trusts anybody else.

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

The messiah just made the extra pass with a clean look of his own! You do not run into that kind of selflessness at the office! That is a shot selection problem, plain and simple. Zeus drove into three bodies and the help defender was waiting the whole way.

Break. Thanos asks the medical staff for coffee. Request denied. Intel: Thanos once called an imaginary timeout in the middle of a game. The ref actually hesitated. 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?' Break's over, time for basketball. Let's go.

Cold blooded from Toronto Border-Patrol, way out beyond the arc, and our defense is scrambling in rotation.

Watch the spacing there, Harry Potter hits Jesus Christ right in the shooting pocket and the possession stays alive. The messiah runs a dribble handoff with the timing of a fifteen-year vet. Not bad for somebody who does this on weekends. Down, up, and gone for Godzilla. The rim is just toying with him now.

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

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! That was IN for Harry Potter! OFFENSIVE GLASS! Jesus Christ beats three men to the spot! The extra pass! Jesus Christ had the look, gave it up anyway, and Godzilla buries it. BANG! Range like that bends a defense completely out of shape, and Godzilla keeps proving the arc is only a suggestion.

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

Two guys on the exact same page, Thanos and Godzilla, and the defense is left holding a bag of nothing. That is twice tonight Thanos has tried to create with the dribble already dead, and this league does not reward that.

Dribble handoff from Harry Potter, and the defender gets wiped out on the exchange! OHHHH the POWER! Jesus Christ took the hit and finished it anyway!

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

Late rotation from Zeus, he arrives half a beat behind the drive and the contact is obvious to everybody in the building.

Everybody clears out, this is an iso for Thanos, and the whole building knows exactly what is coming next. Thanos lowers the shoulder, the defender was planted, and that is an offensive foul. Hand the ball back.

Whistles. Monitor. And Godzilla standing frozen at midcourt. OHHHH the cruelty! Two tenths, and Godzilla gets absolutely nothing.

Zeus isolates in a corner, back against the wall. Harry Potter tries to talk. He raises a hand to say no. 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! My evening? A microphone, cold coffee, and the greatest show on earth. What more could you ask for. Alright, good night! Up next: 'Secret Life of Your Mailman.' Episode 47.

Matchday 8 — vs Minnesota Ice-Wall

83-128 (L)

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

The messiah pulls out the crossover of his life, and Monday morning he clocks in like nothing ever happened. The block is clean, the ball is gone, and Jesus Christ is left staring at his empty hands like a man who lost his keys.

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and Harry Potter drops it off to Godzilla on time and on target. Pass, cut, catch, wide open. Four things in about a second and a half from Godzilla. Soft off the fingertips, the ball takes a full lap of the rim on Godzilla, and spits straight back out. That is theft.

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

No hero ball here: Jesus Christ takes what the defense gives and moves it along. Hard drive, hard stop, and Thanos retreats into an ocean of open hardwood. That is what heavy minutes do, Thanos has run all night and the legs have nothing left to give the jumper.

The players file out. Zeus exchanges a tense look with the coach. Juicy anecdote: Zeus was caught dancing the Macarena in the showers. Alone. And now, our halftime TV game show Name That Layup! To win a fondue set with three forks and no instructions, text HOOPS to 555-0347 and answer this question: 'How many folding chairs fit inside a regulation basketball hoop?' Both teams return. You can tell the coach gave them an earful.

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

Dribble alive, patient, patient, and then Harry Potter slips it to Zeus right in the pocket. Surgical. That is the shot Zeus wants every trip down the floor, it drops nine nights out of ten, and tonight is the tenth.

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

That is a dime from Godzilla that deserved so much better, and Jesus Christ knows it, head down, jogging back before the ball even lands. Nobody put a body on Jesus Christ and he made them pay, tipping it to himself and coming down with two hands in the trees. Kick out to Jesus Christ, one more to Harry Potter, splash from the wing and this bench is on its feet. Deep. Deeper. GONE. Harry Potter drops it in from a spot the scouting report never even listed.

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

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

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

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

Whistle! Zeus gets him on the arm. Personal foul, nothing clever about it. Five fouls on the superhero. One more bump and he goes back to being just a guy with a normal job.

Straight down the baseline goes the player! Whatever shift he worked this morning, he clearly left plenty in the tank. The bench has cleared, the crowd is screaming, and somewhere a photographer just got the shot of the season thanks to Thanos.

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

Foul to give, and Zeus gives it. Clock stops.

Thanos rips off his headband and throws it on the ground. Godzilla picks up his own and folds it carefully. And here is the answer to our game show Name That Layup! Vernon Dinkins of Cold Supper, Missouri, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many folding chairs fit inside a regulation basketball hoop?' The answer was of course none, and the fact that somebody tried is the real story here. Vernon therefore wins a fondue set with three forks and no instructions! Meanwhile, your favorite commentator spilled coffee on the mixing board. Twice. See you tomorrow. In the meantime, it's 'Who Wants to Marry My Goldfish.' Good luck with that.

Matchday 9 — vs Houston Blast-Off

83-128 (L)

That is the pass that beats a zone, and Harry Potter threw it before the help even committed. Godzilla drives, draws two bodies, and swings it one more time to the corner. That is the pass nobody is required to make. Long and gone. Thanos floats the teardrop over everything and bangs it off the back iron.

Jesus Christ splits the trap, then gives it all back by drifting over the line. A turnover with extra steps.

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

Ball into Harry Potter at the elbow, Thanos plants his foot and goes backdoor, and the pass meets him in the air. Filthy. Count them with me: one step, two steps, and a third one nobody asked for. The official has seen enough of Thanos.

Count it and the foul. Brutal. Houston Blast-Off with a three point play and a gut punch in the same possession.

Halftime. Jesus Christ glances at his phone for two seconds and puts it back. Fun fact: Jesus Christ blocked a shot in the finals... And dislocated a thumb celebrating. Classic. 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?' Back for the second half. The coach slammed his fist on the table.

Somewhere out there a player is learning that the day job never included defensive slides. Rough little moment.

You want basketball IQ? Ask the quidditch player, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. Straight down the baseline goes the player! Whatever shift he worked this morning, he clearly left plenty in the tank. Thanos gets into the paint, sees the shot blocker rising, and simply lifts it over the top of him. Never had a prayer.

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

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

SKIP PASS! Harry Potter fires it cross court to Jesus Christ and the defense is dead in the water! Read, screen, delivery, right on the money. A messiah making the right pass every single time, and the league is taking notes. The player had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

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

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

Somebody explain how the quidditch player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. OHHHH the hesi! Thanos froze him solid and he is already gone! The player launched one from the logo as the horn sounded. In fairness, nobody in that huddle gave him a better option.

Thanos gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Harry Potter saw it a beat early. Zeus just took a shoulder to the chest to buy Thanos half a second, and half a second in this league is an eternity. Somebody show the rest of the league what the player just did on that block. Footwork straight out of 1987!

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

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.

Reverse it, make them slide all over again, that is how Thanos breaks a shell down. You can teach the jumper, you cannot teach the willingness, and Jesus Christ gives up a decent shot every single time a better one exists. It went halfway down! The ball sat in the cylinder, thought about it, and rolled off the far side on Harry Potter. Cruel.

Zeus watches the crowd file out in silence. Harry Potter prefers not to look. 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! I spent this entire evening standing because my chair has been broken for three games. Nobody fixes it. Until next time! Up next: 'Life Unplugged: A Day Without WiFi.' A shocking documentary.

Matchday 10 — vs Denver Horse-Track

88-132 (L)

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

STOP AND GO! Harry Potter hit the brakes, hit the gas, and the lane opened up like a garage door. You can live with most mistakes, but fouling Harry Potter behind the arc gets you a seat next to the coach.

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

The quidditch player just ran a give and go to perfection on national television! Somebody go tell his boss what he does after hours! The quidditch player just double dribbled in front of a sold-out building. Nobody back at work is ever letting that one go.

You want basketball IQ? Ask the messiah, who just moved the rock on time without one wasted dribble. Follow the ball there: four sets of hands, Thanos makes the last read, and the defense never gets set. That is training camp offense. The superhero misses absolutely everything, and honestly, the nerve to even attempt that shot deserves something. Not points. But something.

Players head to the locker room. Jesus Christ has tape on three fingers. Word is Jesus Christ sleeps with his basketball shoes on. I can't confirm it, but the source is reliable. And now, our halftime TV game show Cash Cab of the Parking Lot! To win a plug-in air freshener permanently stuck on the high setting, text HOOPS to 555-0975 and answer this question: 'Why is there always exactly one balloon stuck in the rafters?' We're back! The players look fired up.

That block was spectacular and completely illegal. Zeus walks back to the huddle with his head down.

Thanos 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 Denver Horse-Track with not one hand raised in the paint. Somebody has to protect that rim.

Godzilla gets it on the reversal and now this defense is rotating, scrambling and losing ground, all because Harry Potter saw it a beat early. Godzilla crosses, crosses back, the defender slides half a step the wrong way and the whole arena lets out the same OHHHH. The player had that thing halfway down and the rim spat it back out. Nobody ever warns you that the iron has a personality.

Cross court, on a rope, from the player. In this league that pass earns a contract, and he does it on his night off. Everybody in the arena knew the stepback was coming from Jesus Christ, and not one single soul could do anything about it. Stuck holding it as the clock bleeds out, Jesus Christ fades away from twenty-six feet, and it is not close.

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

Off the back iron for Jesus Christ, that one had all the distance and none of the accuracy, and the board goes the other way. Another extra possession courtesy of the quidditch player, a man who evidently boxes out at work too. Some habits do not clock out. OHHHH, what a read by Harry Potter! He never even glanced at the rim and it is CASH on the other end. Watch the footwork from Thanos: one-two into the paint, no charge, feathery touch off the glass. Filthy craft.

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

That is a lost cause and the big man knows it, so Zeus gets him to kick it out with four on the shot clock. One hand, full court, Zeus hits Jesus Christ in stride and the crowd is already up. Jesus Christ attacks the baseline, the big man steps up to meet him, and it does not matter one bit. FILTHY.

Hold everything, they are going to the replay on Jesus Christ, and this building has stopped breathing. The building went up, the building came right back down, and Jesus Christ is staring at a scoreboard that never moved.

Harry Potter lets out a nervous laugh that sends chills down your spine. Zeus decides not to comment. And here is the answer to our game show Cash Cab of the Parking Lot! Leonard Skidmore of Tumbleweed Alley, Arizona, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'Why is there always exactly one balloon stuck in the rafters?' The answer was of course that nobody knows, and the janitors have agreed to stop asking. Leonard therefore wins a plug-in air freshener permanently stuck on the high setting! Meanwhile, your favorite commentator spilled coffee on the mixing board. Twice. Good night! Up next: 'My 600-Lb Neighbor: He Makes Noise at 3 AM.' Shocking testimonies.

Matchday 11 — vs New York Over-Timers

76-120 (L)

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

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

The quidditch 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. That crossover was not about getting a shot up. Jesus Christ pulled it out to tell everybody in the gym whose possession this is. Harry Potter whips the extra pass across the arc, Jesus Christ rises without a dribble, and SPLASH.

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

A single dribble is all Jesus Christ needed to get downhill, and the back side of that defense is in complete disarray. That is the shot chart lying to you. Jesus Christ did everything right on this possession and has zero points to show for it.

Halftime. Jesus Christ throws his towel on the floor walking in. Word is Jesus Christ sleeps with his basketball shoes on. I can't confirm it, but the source is reliable. And now, our halftime TV game show Jeopardy Adjacent! To win a bucket of concrete turtles from a roadside stand that closed in 2004, text HOOPS to 555-0208 and answer this question: 'Which state has the most rectangular gymnasiums per capita?' The players are back on the court. Here we go again!

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

Somebody explain how the quidditch player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. Ice in his veins for a guy who answers to player the rest of the week. Professional shot, amateur resume. Harry Potter rises up from fifteen feet and OHHHH, that rattled in and OUT!

They have to shoot over the top of this thing, and the top of it is a long way up. Filthy work from Harry Potter. Verticality, timing, discipline: Thanos never bites on the pump fake and still finds a way to erase the shot.

Harry Potter holds it, waits, waits some more, then lets it go at the last possible instant to Jesus Christ flying by. That is a half-second window and he threads it. Thanos threads a BEAUTY to Jesus Christ under the rim and... he lays it off the bottom of the iron! Ohhhh, no.

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

Enough room out there to set up a lawn chair, and the quidditch player made it himself. Total professional, in a completely unrelated profession. AROUND the cylinder and OUT! Harry Potter cannot believe it, and neither can this building.

Even the player knows better than that. You do not get to walk your man into the paint and call it a pick.

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.

Give and go! Thanos gives it up, cuts, and gets it right back with a clear lane to the cup! Straight back to the office for the player, and the group chat has already seen it twice.

Timeout. Tablet out. And every line the coach draws starts with Harry Potter. BANG! Exactly the play on the clipboard: Harry Potter to Godzilla, catch and rise.

Wiping imaginary dust off both shoulders, Godzilla strolls back on defense at the speed of a man walking his dog. Jesus Christ carries the bit further and mimes brushing off his shoes. The bench is on the floor. The head coach is not laughing, but only barely.

Thanos claps his hands in frustration. Godzilla clenches his jaw so hard you can hear it from here. And here is the answer to our game show Jeopardy Adjacent! Wanda Jean Stubblefield of Possum Grape, Alabama, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'Which state has the most rectangular gymnasiums per capita?' The answer was of course Indiana, and it is not particularly close. Wanda Jean therefore wins a bucket of concrete turtles from a roadside stand that closed in 2004! Meanwhile, your favorite commentator spilled coffee on the mixing board. Twice. Thanks for watching this game. And now: 'Deal or No Deal: Office Fridge Edition.'

Matchday 12 — vs Cleveland Twin-Towers

84-128 (L)

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

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Jesus Christ just did it by hitting Godzilla on the back side with acres of room. Court vision like that on the player is absurd. Whatever the day job pays him, the assist numbers say he is badly underpriced. BRICK! Harry Potter throws up a prayer and the iron sends it straight back out to half court!

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

Eight seconds off the shot clock and Harry Potter has not wasted one of them, the ball reaching Godzilla precisely where the play wanted it. Godzilla comes flying off that screen and he is WIDE open! Perfect drop-off from Thanos, and Godzilla answers with... whatever that was. Off the glass, off the rim, and gone.

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

Both teams head in. Godzilla has a red mark on his cheek from an elbow. Exclusive info: Godzilla is banned for life from the McDonald's near the arena. The details remain murky. And now, our halftime TV game show The Swap Meet Half Hour! To win a car dealership balloon man with no fan, text HOOPS to 555-1318 and answer this question: 'What is the top speed of a mascot running in oversized shoes?' Tipoff! The ball bounces, the arena vibrates, we're back.

A probe, a plant of the outside foot, and Harry Potter pushes off while his man is still fighting to recover his balance. Harry Potter went for the deep heat check and produced the loudest silence of the night, roar to OHHHH in half a second.

Harry Potter launches it weak side, one pass, and the whole shell has to sprint. Good luck with that. They do not teach that in the player handbook, and yet here we are. Beautiful little exchange. OHHHH what a FINISH from Harry Potter! Hanging, hanging, and laying it high off the glass on the way down!

Jesus Christ 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 messiah is done. Nobody in that trade ever learned to move their feet, but my word, he tried tonight.

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

Second rejection of the quarter for Zeus, and you can see the shooters hesitating on that wing already. Rebound, look, gone. Zeus to Thanos and this is a footrace now. Somewhere a defender is explaining to his family why the player is going to be on the front page tomorrow morning.

The player is going shot for shot with the best scorer on this floor and refusing to flinch. On a weeknight. After a full shift.

The player makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. 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 Jesus Christ does. Rim, backboard, none of the above from the messiah! Ladies and gentlemen, that is a person with a real job, and we have all just been reminded of it.

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

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

Ball up the floor, change of speed right at the logo, and Harry Potter already has the defense a full step behind. A messiah breaking down a professional defender in front of a sold out house! Remember that day job, folks! Catching it right at the cup with nobody within eight feet, Jesus Christ goes up too strong and the ball rides high off the backboard.

Harry Potter is the last one off the court, shoulders hunched. Jesus Christ waits at the tunnel entrance. And here is the answer to our game show The Swap Meet Half Hour! Lurleen Ratliff of Sopchoppy Flats, Florida, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'What is the top speed of a mascot running in oversized shoes?' The answer was of course nine miles an hour downhill, four uphill, and zero once the head falls off. Lurleen therefore wins a car dealership balloon man with no fan! I learned tonight that Harry Potter used to be a quidditch player. That explains the unique running style. Good night! Up next: 'My 600-Lb Neighbor: He Makes Noise at 3 AM.' Shocking testimonies.

Matchday 13 — vs Boston Ring-Chasers

85-130 (L)

SKIP PASS! Jesus Christ fires it cross court to Godzilla and the defense is dead in the water! Two defenders, one gap, and Godzilla finds it. Onions on that pass. Rim out for Thanos, the crowd came up and sat right back down, and you can hear the groan from every corner of the arena.

Snatched his ankles, and Zeus is still checking whether they are attached.

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

The messiah makes the simple read look automatic. Clock out of work, clock in for clean basketball decisions. Watch the change of pace from Zeus, half speed into full speed in one step, and that is a blow-by every time. Zeus fires that thing at the backboard like it owes him money. No chance from the moment it left his hand.

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

Off to the locker room. Harry Potter has already drained two water bottles. I've been told Harry Potter always puts his left shoe on first. The one day he switched, gave up 40 points. And now, our halftime TV game show Jeopardy Adjacent! To win a bucket of concrete turtles from a roadside stand that closed in 2004, text HOOPS to 555-0208 and answer this question: 'Which state has the most rectangular gymnasiums per capita?' Both teams return. You can tell the coach gave them an earful.

Both coaches are up off the bench pleading while the officials walk the Godzilla sequence back frame by frame. The player sells it at the monitor and gets the ball back. In that trade you learn early that confidence beats evidence.

Thanos sizes him up from twenty-five feet, two hard dribbles right, a shoulder fake, and the crowd starts to rise. That is a charge on Thanos, and you can hear the groan roll around every level of this building.

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

Chest to chest, forearm legal, feet churning, Zeus wins the battle for position before the move even begins. OUTLET! Zeus rips the board and fires it ahead to Jesus Christ before anybody gets back! Jesus Christ attacks the paint, absorbs the bump, twists his body all the way around the defender and reverses it in. FILTHY.

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

Everybody in the arena knew the stepback was coming from Jesus Christ, and not one single soul could do anything about it. No good. Jesus Christ rushed that one.

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

Set called, Godzilla waved out to the corner, and Harry Potter watches the spacing open up like a front door. Screen, pop, SPLASH! Godzilla kicks it out and that thing never touched iron. Oh my. Zeus did not even draw iron.

OHHHH he went BACKDOOR! Harry Potter never broke stride and he has the ball UNDER THE RIM! The quidditch player tried the teardrop and never got it to the rim. Turns out soft touch does not come standard with that day job.

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

Thanos 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.

Jesus Christ taps the tunnel wall as if trying to pass through it. Harry Potter walks through the door without pushing it. And here is the answer to our game show Jeopardy Adjacent! Wanda Jean Stubblefield of Possum Grape, Alabama, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'Which state has the most rectangular gymnasiums per capita?' The answer was of course Indiana, and it is not particularly close. Wanda Jean therefore wins a bucket of concrete turtles from a roadside stand that closed in 2004! Final confession: I still don't know how to pronounce Jesus Christ's name. Forgive me. Good night everyone! Coming up: 'Boot Camp: Supermarket Checkout Line Edition.' Discipline.

Matchday 14 — vs San Antonio Skyscrapers

83-128 (L)

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

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

Everybody in the arena knew the stepback was coming from Harry Potter, and not one single soul could do anything about it. Harry Potter had that one all the way, perfect release, perfect arc, and the rim simply refuses to let it drop.

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

The quidditch player runs a dribble handoff with the timing of a fifteen-year vet. Not bad for somebody who does this on weekends. Nobody expects touch like that from the superhero, but that floater had more feel than half the starting guards in the league.

Both teams head to the locker room. Zeus wipes his forehead with his jersey. Exclusive: Zeus was caught reading a philosophy book on the bench. It was Nietzsche. And now, our halftime TV game show Win, Lose, or Shrug! To win a giant novelty check made out for two dollars, text HOOPS to 555-0075 and answer this question: 'How many pieces are missing from a jigsaw puzzle at a lake house?' There they are. The coach must have found the right words.

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

Somebody explain how the quidditch player reads a defense faster than half this league. Whatever he does all day, it clearly involves thinking three steps ahead. This is the work that never shows up on a stat sheet, Jesus Christ gets the credit and the guy setting the screen gets the bruise. The messiah 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.

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

Punish the help, that is the rule, and Thanos just did it by hitting Godzilla on the back side with acres of room. Godzilla attacks the baseline and the ENTIRE defense has to rotate behind him! Wide open at the top of the key and Godzilla cannot make it count, the defense secures the board and takes off in transition.

Third look from distance for Harry Potter tonight and the arc keeps flattening out, tired legs writing checks the jumper cannot cash. Second-chance points are how you steal games on the road, and Zeus has now cleaned up four misses tonight. The whole possession dies right there without Zeus on the offensive glass, and instead it becomes the two easiest points of the quarter.

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

The player just handed that one straight to the other team. Hey, nobody is perfect at two jobs at once.

Push the pace! Harry Potter grabs it and hits Thanos in stride before the defense can even match up. Thanos stutters at the elbow, the defender bites on it, and now there is nothing but open floor between him and the rim. Thanos blows the wide open layup!

The quidditch player just ran that two-man game like he has a decade of film on it. Somebody get this man a contract. Offensive foul, Zeus. Feet were still churning. Give it back.

Not an inch to spare on the endline, but Jesus Christ keeps both feet in bounds and the help gets there a beat too late. OHHHH! Jesus Christ went up looking for a poster and came back down as the punchline.

Godzilla's face is locked shut, zero emotion. Thanos hides his eyes under a towel. And here is the answer to our game Win, Lose, or Shrug! Maxine Skaggs of Bitter Root Draw, New Jersey, got it right. The question, let me remind you, was 'How many pieces are missing from a jigsaw puzzle at a lake house?' The answer was of course two, always the same two, and one of them is sky. Maxine takes home a giant novelty check made out for two dollars! I got a text from Godzilla after the game. Just kidding. Nobody texts me. That's all for tonight. And now: 'Deadliest Catch: Rush Hour on the Beltway.' Documentary.

Matchday 15 — vs Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest

83-127 (L)

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

A cruel spin-out for the quidditch player, and whatever that day job is, tonight it came with a brand new way to break your heart. Muscled away at the second jump by Zeus, and this offense resets with a fresh shot clock. Second pass beats the rotation, Zeus to Harry Potter, and the closeout gets there about half a second too late. BANG! Harry Potter steps back, creates the daylight, and buries it right in the defender's eye.

OHHHH that is a bad one from Godzilla! He hauls the ball handler down in the open floor and the whole arena is up and howling.

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

Ball up the floor, change of speed right at the logo, and Harry Potter already has the defense a full step behind. Enough room out there to set up a lawn chair, and the player made it himself. Total professional, in a completely unrelated profession. So close. Thanos can only stare at the iron.

Halftime whistle! Zeus grabs a towel and collapses on the bench. Rumor has it Zeus has been wearing the same lucky underwear for three seasons. The medical staff is concerned. And now, our halftime TV game show Grand Prize Giveaway Extravaganza Deluxe! To win a wood chipper rated exclusively for grass clippings, text HOOPS to 555-1263 and answer this question: 'How many people in this country are named after a basketball game?' The players step onto the hardwood once more. The second half starts now.

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

Harry Potter walks it up, two fingers in the air, and the whole offense shifts on his command. 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. Not a hand on him. Godzilla flat missed the bunny.

That is vision. Harry Potter sees the pocket open for a tenth of a second and puts the ball in it. Two hands on the ball, then a fresh bounce. Somewhere a youth coach is watching the player and quietly turning off the TV.

Across half court, a quick survey, a point to the weak side, and Harry Potter drops it off to Thanos on time and on target. BACKDOOR! Thanos slips behind a sleeping defense and Zeus hits him right in stride! The help defender had position, leverage, everything but a chance. Thanos rose straight over the top of him, and one.

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

Zeus sets the pick and DIVES to the cup. Harry Potter lays it right on his hands in traffic! In, around, and gone. The iron gives Zeus nothing.

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

Beautiful footwork on that one from Harry Potter, the pivot foot never budges, which is precisely why the whistle stays in the pocket. The quidditch 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 Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest. You could hear the air leave this arena on that one.

Here is the danger of a hot night: Jesus Christ stops taking the shots that got him going and starts taking the ones that cool him off.

The 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. Thanos reaches, gets caught, whistle. Third personal, and the coach immediately looks down his bench.

Jesus Christ mutters 'damn' under his breath. Zeus says 'yeah' in the same tone. And here is the answer to our game show Grand Prize Giveaway Extravaganza Deluxe! Ezra Bottomley of Grand Prairie Elbow, California, got it right. The question, I remind you, was 'How many people in this country are named after a basketball game?' The answer was of course four thousand two hundred, and a suspicious number of them were born nine months after a title run. Ezra therefore wins a wood chipper rated exclusively for grass clippings! On my end, I ate three chocolate bars during the timeouts. Sports make you hungry, even in the booth. That's a wrap! And now, 'The Price Is Right: Why Nobody Answers the Phone Anymore.'