My dream starting five — basketball_team 🇬🇧
5 members · TeamBranch
Season Journal
Standings
| # | Team | W | L | Pts |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | San Antonio Skyscrapers | 15 | 0 | 30 |
| 2 | Detroit Engine-Roar | 14 | 1 | 28 |
| 3 | Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest | 13 | 2 | 26 |
| 4 | Denver Horse-Track | 11 | 4 | 22 |
| 5 | Boston Ring-Chasers | 11 | 4 | 22 |
| 6 | New York Over-Timers | 9 | 6 | 18 |
| 7 | Houston Blast-Off | 8 | 7 | 16 |
| 8 | Cleveland Twin-Towers | 8 | 7 | 16 |
| 9 | Minnesota Ice-Wall | 6 | 9 | 12 |
| 10 | Toronto Border-Patrol | 5 | 10 | 10 |
| 11 | Orlando Magic-Beans | 4 | 11 | 8 |
| 12 | Philadelphia Injury-Report | 4 | 11 | 8 |
| 13 | Phoenix No-Defense | 4 | 11 | 8 |
| 14 | My Team | 3 | 12 | 6 |
| 15 | Miami Heart-Attack | 3 | 12 | 6 |
| 16 | Los Angeles Nursing-Home | 2 | 13 | 4 |
Pre-season
Stop. Everybody shut up. You feel that? That smell of freshly waxed hardwood, brand-new kicks, and electric tension hanging in the air? That's the smell of a night that's going down in the history books. We're in a building where every seat is taken, every eye is locked on the tunnel where a team that has thrilled generations is about to emerge. Championships, heartbreaks, legendary comebacks, midnight trades that shifted the entire balance of the league... This franchise is a damn novel all by itself. And tonight, we're starting the next chapter. The team with no name, baby! There's one guy on this team who scares the living hell out of everyone. Opponents, coaches, referees, even his own teammates sometimes. That's Matas Buzelis. Standing at 208 cm, shoulders like a linebacker, and a touch on the ball so soft it makes you want to cry. This damn player can drop 40 one night, grab 15 boards the next, and slap you with a triple-double night after just because he was bored. The kind of guy you want on your squad and pray you never have to face. The opposing locker room before the game, you know what they talk about? Not the game plan. Not the offensive scheme. No. They talk about HIM. "How do we stop him?" "Who takes the matchup?" "Does he look tired?" Spoiler: he's never tired. And even when he looks tired, it's a trap. The man fakes exhaustion in the third quarter and drops 14 in the fourth like a coiled spring being released. Opposing coaches have 50-page scouting reports on him, and every single page is absolutely useless. And now, the moment nobody was waiting for but everybody is going to love: the coach signed Kevin Hart. The man is a film producer. A freaking film producer. In a league where everybody is 6'8" and runs a 4.4 forty, he rolls up with their loaded checkbook and a suspicious amount of enthusiasm. His first instinct walking into the locker room? Ask where the coffee machine was. His second instinct? Try to dribble and bounce the ball straight into his own face. The teammates lost it. The coach just said "that's the kind of grit I was looking for." We still don't know if he was serious or completely hammered. Mid-pack budget. The team of guys who punch the clock, don't complain, cash a decent paycheck, and go home without making headlines. It's not sexy, but it works. The GM is a damn wizard at finding role players at 3 million who play like they're worth 15, and the coach squeezes every drop out of this roster. The problem? One major injury and the whole house of cards collapses.
Matchday 1 — vs Detroit Engine-Roar
80-111 (L)
Dave Blunts steps onto the venue! From spitting the fiery bars to this, game time!
Kevin Hart can't get it to fall! Gravity treats the rock differently than the risky picture!
Pope Francis throws it into traffic! Reckless pass, the chemist got too confident!
Dave Blunts watches them score! Just watching, like watching their hot mic gather dust!
Kevin Hart buries their face! Hidden from view, the film producer can't watch!
Halftime whistle! Adolf Hitler grabs a towel and collapses on the bench. Intel: Adolf Hitler asked Detroit Engine-Roar for their energy drink recipe. They refused. Break's over, time for basketball. Let's go.
Kevin Hart with the contested devastating dunk back to the basket! No good! Bad selection!
Kevin Hart lets fly but the legs won't cooperate! Defense that's basically a suggestion catching up!
This global icon Adolf Hitler with turnover number points! Tendency to rush is piling up!
This newcomer Matas Buzelis gets into it with the opponent! Tempers flaring!
Matas Buzelis, this long boy, hangs the head. Tough loss despite nerves of steel effort.
Dave Blunts sits on the bench, staring into nothing. Kevin Hart has his head in his hands. I spent this game nervously chewing gum. I'm on my seventh piece. See you tomorrow. In the meantime, it's 'Who Wants to Marry My Goldfish.' Good luck with that.
Matchday 2 — vs Miami Heart-Attack
98-107 (L)
Pope Francis stretches center court! Loosening up, the chemist is getting ready!
Kevin Hart crosses over but overcooks it! Ego the size of Texas showing up again!
Dave Blunts with the careless pass! Spitting the fiery bars with more care, please!
Dave Blunts, this tweener, lets the shooter get free from downtown! Costly lapse!
Kevin Hart cuts and scores! Sharp as their loaded checkbook, this film producer!
Heading in. Matas Buzelis's eyes are bloodshot from sheer effort. Anecdote: Matas Buzelis once wore his jersey inside out for the entire first quarter. Nobody dared say anything. Resumption imminent. The players wrap up their express warm-up.
This first-ballot legend Pope Francis shakes the head in disbelief! Nothing going right!
Matas Buzelis fires away the Spalding right into the defender's hands! Occasional mental lapses!
Dave Blunts adjusts the tempo! Controlling the rhythm like a veteran rapper!
Adolf Hitler mops their face! Sweating more than when defending the front line!
Kevin Hart consoles teammates! The heart of a film producer in that moment!
Pope Francis refuses to watch the replay on the jumbotron. Dave Blunts watches it and immediately regrets it. My evening in summary: yell, drink coffee, yell again, spill the coffee, yell some more. That's a wrap! Coming up: 'What Would You Do: People Who Say Hello in the Elevator.' Exposing the truth.
Matchday 3 — vs Orlando Magic-Beans
98-101 (L)
This total unknown Matas Buzelis comes out aggressive! Opens with a deep three at the top of the key!
Dave Blunts scores at will! An alley-oop at half court! This potential breakout star domination!
Kevin Hart reacts too late to rotate! Tendency to force bad shots on the help side!
Dave Blunts, this diamond in the rough, fumbles the finish facing the rim! Back to the drawing board!
Matas Buzelis converts the and-one! A double-clutch layup! This raw talent won't go quietly!
The players file out. Matas Buzelis exchanges a tense look with the coach. Exclusive info: Matas Buzelis is banned for life from the McDonald's near the arena. The details remain murky. Back in action! The coach got the message across.
Pope Francis turns it over with seconds left on the clock! This basketball god crumbles under pressure!
Kevin Hart mutters to himself walking back! This elite player fighting inner demons!
Matas Buzelis crosses over through pain, through doubt! This hidden prospect transcending!
This max-contract guy Kevin Hart picks up the foul on the decisive possession! Terrible timing!
Adolf Hitler leaves the venue quietly! Quiet as a soldier after the front line setback!
Dave Blunts has bags under his eyes that weren't there before the game. Pope Francis has aged ten years in forty minutes. Tonight my colleague told me I smell like stress. I told him it was my cologne. We're out! And now, 'House Hunters: Broom Closet Edition.' Cozy open concept.
Matchday 4 — vs Philadelphia Injury-Report
95-98 (L)
Adolf Hitler, this little thunder, announced to huge cheers! A boiling cauldron!
Kevin Hart with the step-back buzzer beater! Creating space like a film producer with their loaded checkbook!
Dave Blunts bites on the pump fake! This diamond in the rough sent flying at the buzzer!
Matas Buzelis misses the open look! This total unknown can't believe it! Ego the size of Texas!
Pope Francis with the hustle rebound! Hustling harder than synthesizing the new compound!
Halftime. Matas Buzelis wolfs down an energy bar in two bites. Exclusive info: Matas Buzelis is banned for life from the McDonald's near the arena. The details remain murky. Second half! The hardwood is about to shake again.
Kevin Hart can't handle the pressure! This bonafide star folds in the dying seconds!
Kevin Hart shoots and kicks the stanchion! This established star losing composure!
They said a rapper couldn't play at this level. Dave Blunts and their hot mic disagree!
Pope Francis, this do-it-all player, forces a bad shot in overtime! Tendency to rush!
Pope Francis looks at the scoreboard one last time! Numbers don't lie for a chemist!
Adolf Hitler clenches his left fist, unclenches, clenches again. Dave Blunts fidgets with his wristband nervously. I spent the fourth quarter standing. Not by choice. My chair gave out in the third. That's a wrap! And now, 'The Price Is Right: Why Nobody Answers the Phone Anymore.'
Matchday 5 — vs Phoenix No-Defense
98-100 (L)
Kevin Hart gets the starting nod! A film producer starting with their loaded checkbook confidence!
Dave Blunts tallies another one! This rapper keeps racking them up!
Dave Blunts overcommits! Going all-in like a rapper on the fiery bars, but wrong!
A fadeaway jumper attempt by Kevin Hart falls short! Tendency to force bad shots in the legs!
Adolf Hitler orchestrates the miracle comeback! Miraculous as a soldier saving their service rifle!
First half is done. Kevin Hart is chugging Gatorade like it's water. Rumor has it Kevin Hart talks to his basketball in the locker room. Nobody dares say it's weird. The players are back on the court. Here we go again!
Matas Buzelis, this big fella, rattles out the free throw! Limited stamina getting the best of this who-is-this-guy player!
Kevin Hart mouths off during crunch time! A film producer venting about the risky picture!
The crowd chants for Pope Francis! The chemist who became a legend at the field house!
Kevin Hart rises up but can't score in crunch time! Opportunity lost!
Dave Blunts fought but fell short! Just out of reach, the rapper gave everything!
Dave Blunts takes off his shoes and carries them like a ghost. Adolf Hitler follows the same path. On my end, I discovered the arena's coffee machine was broken. The game nearly went uncommentated. We're done here. Up next: 'Top Chef: Microwave Edition.' Bon appetit.
Matchday 6 — vs Los Angeles Nursing-Home
119-96 (W)
This guy nobody was talking about Dave Blunts means business! Fast start along the baseline!
Adolf Hitler scores with their service rifle, no, with their hands! But the precision is the same!
Pope Francis stays in front! Mirroring every move like a seasoned chemist!
This newcomer Dave Blunts leads the fast break and dishes! Easy bucket off the assist!
Pope Francis, this swiss-army-knife type, positions perfectly for the offensive rebound! Eyes in the back of the head!
The players leave the court. Adolf Hitler clings to the tunnel railing. Juicy intel: Adolf Hitler turned down an endorsement deal because he'd have to wear a mascot costume. The players come back running. Did someone set the locker room on fire?
A tear drop from Matas Buzelis! Another dagger! This unknown gem closing the door!
Pope Francis throws the jersey to the crowd! Better than throwing the new compound!
Pope Francis fights through the screen for the team! That chemist toughness right there!
Matas Buzelis dishes with the fire of a thousand suns! He's on fire!
Adolf Hitler shares the credit! Team player on and off the court!
Dave Blunts and Adolf Hitler act out a movie scene where they reunite in slow motion. The crowd is dying. My evening? I spent it holding back tears. Of joy? Of exhaustion? Both. That's all for tonight! Coming up: 'CSI: Underground Parking Garage.' Riveting stuff.
Matchday 7 — vs Toronto Border-Patrol
110-107 (W)
Tip-off! Matas Buzelis gets us started! Let's go!
Dave Blunts with the full-court pressure! This diamond in the rough making them uncomfortable!
Dave Blunts sends it long! Too much power, not enough finesse from this rapper!
Pope Francis, this combo guard, overpowers for a devastating dunk! Size matters!
Adolf Hitler with the decoy run! Diverting attention, classic soldier misdirection!
Players head to the locker room. Dave Blunts has tape on three fingers. Fun fact: Dave Blunts tried to patent a celebration after a three-pointer. The application was rejected. Resetting the counters for this second half. Well, not really.
Adolf Hitler nails it at the buzzer! Delivered on time like a soldier meeting a deadline!
Matas Buzelis sprints to close out! A rebound in traffic at the buzzer! Great effort!
You can feel a sold-out gym on fire through the screen! Matas Buzelis in the spotlight!
This guy nobody was talking about Matas Buzelis takes over in the second half! Silky smooth technique in crunch time!
This bonafide star Kevin Hart thanks the fans! The crowd is on its feet! What a ride!
Dave Blunts does a handstand. Kevin Hart holds him by the feet. The crowd holds its breath. I learned tonight that Dave Blunts used to be a soldier. That explains the unique running style. See you soon. And now: '911: My Cat Climbed on Top of the Wardrobe.'
Matchday 8 — vs Minnesota Ice-Wall
103-113 (L)
Kevin Hart checks in for the first play! Clocking in for the shift, let's work!
Pope Francis bricks it! Not the same accuracy as synthesizing the new compound!
Pope Francis turns it over in the high post! Butterfingers from this chemist!
Adolf Hitler gives up the easy bucket! Easier than defending the front line!
Adolf Hitler banks a reverse layup off the glass! Geometry learned from the soldier life!
Halftime. The doctor examines Matas Buzelis's shoulder while the others catch their breath. Did you know Matas Buzelis keeps a photo of his dog in his right shoe? It's a Bichon. Come on, second half! The best is yet to come. Or the worst. Who knows.
Adolf Hitler tugs at their jersey! Frustrated, but the soldier will bounce back!
Pope Francis, this generational talent, with the shot-clock heave! No good at the top of the key!
Matas Buzelis sets the screen at the perfect angle! This raw talent cerebral play!
Pope Francis tanks the play from tiredness! Tanked like a chemist's energy for the new compound!
Dave Blunts takes the loss hard! Hard as the fiery bars on a bad rapper day!
Adolf Hitler mutters 'damn' under his breath. Matas Buzelis says 'yeah' in the same tone. On my end, I ate peanuts through the entire third quarter. Salt is my drug of choice. Thanks for watching this game. And now: 'Deal or No Deal: Office Fridge Edition.'
Matchday 9 — vs Houston Blast-Off
102-101 (W)
The game begins and Adolf Hitler is ready! You can see an unmatched feel for the game written all over his face!
Pope Francis, this first-ballot legend, pokes the orange free! Scramble facing the rim!
This jersey-selling name Kevin Hart with a rare miss from way beyond the arc! Even the best stumble!
Dave Blunts knocks down a floater from downtown! Ice in the veins!
Adolf Hitler goes small-ball! Adapting like a soldier who reads the room!
Halftime whistle. Matas Buzelis flops into the first available chair. Fun fact: Matas Buzelis failed the driving test three times. On the court it's a different story, thankfully. The players step onto the hardwood once more. The second half starts now.
Kevin Hart with the clutch block! Not in this house, says the film producer!
Matas Buzelis, this tower, locks down the attacker! Natural-born leadership on the defensive end!
This hungry young player Dave Blunts turns the hostile crowd into stunned silence!
Dave Blunts takes the tough shot and makes it! Tough as spitting the fiery bars!
Adolf Hitler ends on a high note! A soldier who finishes strong every time!
Matas Buzelis and Pope Francis pound their chests like gorillas. The coach pretends not to know them. I spent the evening standing up and sitting down every thirty seconds. My Fitbit is congratulating me. See you tomorrow! Up next: 'Extreme Reading: The Terms and Conditions.' 4-hour special.
Matchday 10 — vs Denver Horse-Track
100-112 (L)
This big-name player Kevin Hart gets the crowd going early! The energy is building!
Matas Buzelis fires a layup along the baseline but can't connect! Sometimes predictable game showing!
Adolf Hitler coughs up the orange! Sometimes predictable game strikes again from the left corner!
Matas Buzelis scrambles but can't close out! Open look given up! Injury-prone body!
An off-balance shot from Kevin Hart! This top-tier talent reminding everyone why they're on top!
Halftime! Adolf Hitler looks in the mirror and shakes his head. Did you know Adolf Hitler started basketball because he was terrible at soccer? Sometimes failure leads to greatness. The show goes on. Players take position. Silence. Whistle.
Matas Buzelis, this big fella, waves off the play call! Hot head hurting the team!
Adolf Hitler spins but the shot rims out! Tendency to rush rears its ugly head!
Dave Blunts executes a dominant inside game perfectly! Precision learned as a rapper!
Pope Francis is running on fumes! The chemist tank is completely empty!
Dave Blunts, this who-is-this-guy player, takes the loss hard. Ego the size of Texas at the wrong moments.
Pope Francis walks toward the tunnel without a word. Dave Blunts stares at the scoreboard as if it might change. During the break, I tried doing crunches behind the console. My back remembers. We're done here. Up next: 'Top Chef: Microwave Edition.' Bon appetit.
Matchday 11 — vs New York Over-Timers
99-118 (L)
Pope Francis bounces the Spalding pre-game! Getting that rhythm going!
Kevin Hart, this small but mighty player, double-clutches and misses! Indecision from this bonafide star!
Matas Buzelis with the errant pass! This guy nobody was talking about needs to settle down!
Pope Francis loses their assignment! Like losing their glass beaker in the workshop!
Kevin Hart, this little guy, takes over from the right corner. A pull-up jumper! That's elite!
Halftime. Dave Blunts is holding his ribs walking toward the tunnel. Fun fact: Dave Blunts tried to negotiate a 'mandatory nap' clause in his contract. Denied. We're back! The DJ cranks the volume, the players charge onto the court.
Kevin Hart argues with the ref! The same passion they bring to greenlighting the risky picture!
Adolf Hitler, this pocket rocket, gets the look but can't convert in transition!
Adolf Hitler exploits the soft spot in the elbow! Soft as the front line under their service rifle!
Adolf Hitler soldiers on! The soldier who defends the front line with their service rifle!
Dave Blunts tips the cap to the winners! The rapper's grace with the fiery bars!
Adolf Hitler and Matas Buzelis share a single look. Just one. It contains all the disappointment in the world. Yours truly held it together all evening without a bathroom break. That's professionalism. And now, a brand new episode of 'Desperately Seeking My Cat.' Good night, everyone.
Matchday 12 — vs Cleveland Twin-Towers
94-99 (L)
Kevin Hart looks dialed in from the start! That dawg mentality preparation showing!
Pope Francis drives the basketball awkwardly! The touch just isn't there for this guy with rings on every finger!
Adolf Hitler dribbles it off their foot! Their service rifle would never betray a soldier like that!
Adolf Hitler bites on the fake! Fooled like a soldier by counterfeit the front line!
Kevin Hart drives the ball with purpose! A reverse layup! This bonafide star means business!
Players head to the locker room. Kevin Hart has tape on three fingers. Anecdote of the day: Kevin Hart forgot his shorts on the last road trip. Played in borrowed shorts two sizes too big. The locker room empties, the court fills up. Act 2.
Matas Buzelis slams the leather in frustration! Defense that's basically a suggestion on full display!
Kevin Hart gets a clean look but ego the size of Texas costs the bucket!
Dave Blunts zones up! Defensive zone like a rapper's the fiery bars zone!
Adolf Hitler is clearly fatigued! The 48 regulation minutes of this plus the 48 regulation minutes of defending the front line!
Pope Francis absorbs the defeat! Taking it on the chin, a chemist knows tough days!
Adolf Hitler collapses into the first available chair. Dave Blunts stays standing, eyes glazed over. Final confession: I still don't know how to pronounce Adolf Hitler's name. Forgive me. We're signing off. And now: 'Musical Chairs: Subway Seat Edition.' Winner takes all.
Matchday 13 — vs Boston Ring-Chasers
90-110 (L)
Kevin Hart announces themselves! The film producer has arrived and the building knows it!
Kevin Hart with a rough reverse layup driving to the hoop! Ego the size of Texas at the worst time!
This guy nobody was talking about Matas Buzelis dribbles off the foot! Unforced error!
Kevin Hart gets crossed over! Ankles broken like the risky picture on a rough day!
Adolf Hitler attacks and converts! A hook shot along the baseline! Money!
Break. Matas Buzelis's socks are soaking wet — quick change on the spot. Physio's confession: Matas Buzelis purrs when you massage his calves. Like a cat. A big cat. Back to hostilities. Faces have changed in the locker room.
Kevin Hart, this certified bucket, barks at the teammate! Injury-prone body taking over!
Adolf Hitler can't hit the ocean right now! Another miss for this hall-of-fame lock!
Matas Buzelis identifies the soft spot in the zone! This dark horse surgical precision!
Adolf Hitler calls for the sub! Even a soldier's stamina with their service rifle has limits!
Pope Francis sits alone on the bench. This franchise cornerstone processing the defeat.
Pope Francis's face is locked shut, zero emotion. Dave Blunts hides his eyes under a towel. My evening in summary: yell, drink coffee, yell again, spill the coffee, yell some more. Until next time! Up next: 'Life Unplugged: A Day Without WiFi.' A shocking documentary.
Matchday 14 — vs San Antonio Skyscrapers
85-122 (L)
Dave Blunts, this solid build, sets the tone immediately! Pure God-given talent from the jump!
Kevin Hart misses the runner! Stick to the day job, buddy!
Kevin Hart loses the Spalding! A film producer would never be this careless!
Matas Buzelis lunges the wrong direction! Fake had this hidden prospect fooled!
This hungry young player Dave Blunts hangs the head after the miss! Deflated at the buzzer!
Well-deserved break. Adolf Hitler looks like someone who just ran a marathon. Did you know Adolf Hitler keeps a photo of his dog in his right shoe? It's a Bichon. Here they come. You can read the determination on their faces.
Matas Buzelis misfires from along the baseline! This dark horse searching for answers!
This jersey-selling name Kevin Hart stumbles! The fatigue is real after this ball game!
Kevin Hart, this miniature missile, gets stripped at half court! Lack of consistency exposed!
Kevin Hart looks to the heavens! A film producer praying for their loaded checkbook to work!
This generational talent Pope Francis tips the hat to the winner. Respect despite the pain.
Adolf Hitler's eyes are red, jaw tight. Matas Buzelis apologizes to the coach, voice cracking. On my end, I ate peanuts through the entire third quarter. Salt is my drug of choice. Until next time! Up next: 'Kitchen Nightmares: Corporate Cafeteria.' This is gonna be good.
Matchday 15 — vs Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest
77-122 (L)
Adolf Hitler takes the court to a hostile crowd! The soldier with their service rifle is here!
Dave Blunts, this versatile guy, gets the separation but can't finish! Injury-prone body!
This multi-time All-Star Kevin Hart commits the offensive foul! Turnover from way beyond the arc!
Dave Blunts gets posted up and scored on! This guy nobody was talking about overpowered!
Kevin Hart storms to the bench! This multi-time All-Star is visibly upset!
Halftime. Matas Buzelis throws his towel on the floor walking in. Confession: Matas Buzelis believes the away locker room is haunted. Refuses to go in alone. Back to business. The players bounce around to warm up.
Dave Blunts, this do-it-all player, draws the foul but can't capitalize! Occasional mental lapses!
This reliable star Kevin Hart calls for a sub! Can't go anymore! Defense that's basically a suggestion taking its toll!
Dave Blunts, this solid build, gets the ball poked away! Occasional mental lapses when protecting the Spalding!
Kevin Hart, this top-tier talent, with the frustrated foul! Tendency to force bad shots in tough moments!
This first-ballot legend Adolf Hitler shakes hands and moves on. In the end, tendency to rush proved costly.
Kevin Hart whispers 'this can't be real' under his breath. Matas Buzelis nods without conviction. Tonight I had a revelation: Matas Buzelis runs exactly like my neighbor when he misses the bus. Thanks for being here. Coming up: 'Forbidden Zone: Behind the Scenes of a Vending Machine.'
My Team finishes #14 (3W-12L). Better luck next season! MVP: Matas Buzelis.
Season Journal
Stop. Everybody shut up. You feel that? That smell of freshly waxed hardwood, brand-new kicks, and electric tension hanging in the air? That's the smell of a night that's going down in the history books. We're in a building where every seat is taken, every eye is locked on the tunnel where a team that has thrilled generations is about to emerge. Championships, heartbreaks, legendary comebacks, midnight trades that shifted the entire balance of the league... This franchise is a damn novel all by itself. And tonight, we're starting the next chapter. The team with no name, baby!
There's one guy on this team who scares the living hell out of everyone. Opponents, coaches, referees, even his own teammates sometimes. That's Matas Buzelis. Standing at 208 cm, shoulders like a linebacker, and a touch on the ball so soft it makes you want to cry. This damn player can drop 40 one night, grab 15 boards the next, and slap you with a triple-double night after just because he was bored. The kind of guy you want on your squad and pray you never have to face.
The opposing locker room before the game, you know what they talk about? Not the game plan. Not the offensive scheme. No. They talk about HIM. "How do we stop him?" "Who takes the matchup?" "Does he look tired?" Spoiler: he's never tired. And even when he looks tired, it's a trap. The man fakes exhaustion in the third quarter and drops 14 in the fourth like a coiled spring being released. Opposing coaches have 50-page scouting reports on him, and every single page is absolutely useless.
And now, the moment nobody was waiting for but everybody is going to love: the coach signed Kevin Hart. The man is a film producer. A freaking film producer. In a league where everybody is 6'8" and runs a 4.4 forty, he rolls up with their loaded checkbook and a suspicious amount of enthusiasm. His first instinct walking into the locker room? Ask where the coffee machine was. His second instinct? Try to dribble and bounce the ball straight into his own face. The teammates lost it. The coach just said "that's the kind of grit I was looking for." We still don't know if he was serious or completely hammered.
Mid-pack budget. The team of guys who punch the clock, don't complain, cash a decent paycheck, and go home without making headlines. It's not sexy, but it works. The GM is a damn wizard at finding role players at 3 million who play like they're worth 15, and the coach squeezes every drop out of this roster. The problem? One major injury and the whole house of cards collapses.
My Team finishes #14 (3W-12L). Better luck next season! MVP: Matas Buzelis.
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