My dream starting five — basketball_team 🇺🇸
5 members · TeamBranch
Season Journal
Standings
| # | Team | W | L | Pts |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest | 13 | 2 | 26 |
| 2 | Detroit Engine-Roar | 13 | 2 | 26 |
| 3 | San Antonio Skyscrapers | 11 | 4 | 22 |
| 4 | Boston Ring-Chasers | 11 | 4 | 22 |
| 5 | Denver Horse-Track | 10 | 5 | 20 |
| 6 | New York Over-Timers | 10 | 5 | 20 |
| 7 | Houston Blast-Off | 9 | 6 | 18 |
| 8 | Toronto Border-Patrol | 9 | 6 | 18 |
| 9 | Minnesota Ice-Wall | 8 | 7 | 16 |
| 10 | Los Angeles Nursing-Home | 7 | 8 | 14 |
| 11 | Cleveland Twin-Towers | 6 | 9 | 12 |
| 12 | Orlando Magic-Beans | 4 | 11 | 8 |
| 13 | Miami Heart-Attack | 3 | 12 | 6 |
| 14 | Phoenix No-Defense | 2 | 13 | 4 |
| 15 | Philadelphia Injury-Report | 2 | 13 | 4 |
| 16 | My Team | 2 | 13 | 4 |
Pre-season
Kill the cameras, turn off your phones, and shut your mouths because what we're about to witness tonight only happens once in a generation. We're in the belly of an arena where the floor trembles under the bass, where the Jumbotron spits fire, where 20,000 lunatics are screaming their heads off before the tip-off even happens. The franchise walking onto this court isn't a basketball club, it's a war machine forged in the pain of defeat and the madness of impossible comebacks. Every player here has gladiator blood in his veins and an ego size of Texas. The team with no name, baby! Listen, I've watched hundreds of players come and go in my broadcasting career, but Funky is something else entirely. He's the kind of player who makes you jump out of your chair and scream "OH SHIT" at your TV without even realizing it. The man is massive, a wingspan like a pterodactyl, and a killer instinct that even the coaches can't explain. This man feels the game. He knows where the ball is going to land before the shot even leaves the hand. He reads passes like he's reading minds. At this level, it's not basketball anymore, it's straight-up sorcery. The scary thing is that the more pressure rises, the more he rises with it. Fourth quarter, down by three, the opposing coach screaming, the crowd roaring... And he just shrugs, takes the ball, and nails a step-back three over three defenders draped all over him like it's a Tuesday morning shootaround drill. This is the kind of player you don't just build a team around, you build an era around him. And tonight, that era begins. And because this season couldn't possibly be normal, the coach went out and signed Funky. The man. Is. A rapper. I'm going to let that marinate for two seconds. A rapper. On a professional basketball court. With guys who jump 3 feet off the ground. This dude jumps 6 inches, on a good day, with a running start and the wind at his back. But he's got their hot mic and apparently, the technical motion of a rapper and a pull-up jumper are "basically the same thing, give or take 90 degrees." That's what the coach said. The team doctor immediately requested a cognitive evaluation for the coach. Let's talk money. We'll keep it short because there ain't any. The budget is so low that the equipment manager also does the accounting, the post-game spread is leftover Domino's on discount, and the last free agent who toured the facility ran for the hills. But damn it, these guys don't care. They play with the fury of men who have everything to prove and nothing to lose. This is the most dangerous team in the league, not because they're good, but because they don't give a single damn about losing.
Matchday 1 — vs Detroit Engine-Roar
85-129 (L)
Daddy Yankee starts in the center! Playing the center way a rapper plays with their hot mic!
Alex Zurdo, this potential breakout star, with the shot-clock heave! No good at half court!
Indiomar, this do-it-all player, commits the travel! Limited stamina in the footwork!
Funky caught flat-footed! Standing still, the rapper reflexes took a nap!
Farruko blows past the towel! This seasoned vet showing tendency to force bad shots!
The players disappear. Funky has a makeshift neck brace out of a towel. Intel: Funky asked Detroit Engine-Roar for their energy drink recipe. They refused. Both teams emerge from the tunnel. The second half can begin.
Funky, this combo guard, gets the look but can't convert from the left corner!
Daddy Yankee wipes sweat with the mouthguard! Drenched, the rapper has been putting in work!
Farruko loses the rock! A rapper would never be this careless!
Funky tugs at their jersey! Frustrated, but the rapper will bounce back!
Funky vows to come back stronger! Stronger than their hot mic reinforced with the fiery bars!
Funky's eyes are glassy. Indiomar mumbles 'we'll get them next time' without believing it. I got a text from Funky after the game. Just kidding. Nobody texts me. That's it for tonight. Coming up: 'Nailed It: Cakes Ruined by My Mother-in-Law.'
Matchday 2 — vs Miami Heart-Attack
88-126 (L)
Indiomar steps onto the gym! From belting the chorus to this, game time!
Funky bricks it! Not the same accuracy as spitting the fiery bars!
Indiomar launches the leather right to the defense! Costly mistake by this newcomer!
Farruko loses their assignment! Like losing their hot mic in the workshop!
Alex Zurdo mouths off and picks up a T! Heavy feet taking over!
Halftime! Alex Zurdo checks his stats on the board and winces. Staff confession: Alex Zurdo is afraid of pigeons. Not 7-foot centers, no. Pigeons. Tipoff! The ball bounces, the arena vibrates, we're back.
Funky with a wild attempt! This rising star not finding the range tonight!
This All-Star caliber talent Daddy Yankee stumbles! The fatigue is real after this ball game!
Farruko turns it over at with seconds left on the clock! A rapper dropping their hot mic at the worst time!
Farruko, this dude putting the league on notice, with the frustrated foul! Shaky emotions under pressure in tough moments!
Daddy Yankee blows past past the media. This All-Star caliber talent not in the mood to talk.
Indiomar clenches his left fist, unclenches, clenches again. Farruko fidgets with his wristband nervously. Final confession: I still don't know how to pronounce Indiomar's name. Forgive me. Alright, good night! Up next: 'Secret Life of Your Mailman.' Episode 47.
Matchday 3 — vs Orlando Magic-Beans
89-110 (L)
Daddy Yankee gets the crowd going early! Setting the tone like a rapper on day one!
Alex Zurdo launches and misses! The leather isn't the fiery bars, and it shows!
Farruko commits the live-ball turnover! Their hot mic would be ashamed!
This player nobody saw coming Funky fouls reaching in! Shaky emotions under pressure on defense!
Funky knocks down a pull-up jumper on the low block! Ice in the veins!
First half is done. Alex Zurdo is chugging Gatorade like it's water. Did you know Alex Zurdo keeps a photo of his dog in his right shoe? It's a Bichon. Tipoff! The ref blows the whistle, the ball is in the air.
Alex Zurdo mutters to himself walking back! This newcomer fighting inner demons!
Alex Zurdo fires and misses from downtown. Should have stuck with the fiery bars!
Funky, this dark horse, orchestrates the delay game! A killer instinct in action!
Funky calls for the sub! Even a rapper's stamina with their hot mic has limits!
Funky fought but fell short! Just out of reach, the rapper gave everything!
Funky and Indiomar walk side by side without looking at each other. The silence is deafening. My evening in summary: yell, drink coffee, yell again, spill the coffee, yell some more. Good evening! Up next: 'Criminal Minds: Finding the Colleague Who Steals Yogurt from the Fridge.'
Matchday 4 — vs Philadelphia Injury-Report
101-120 (L)
Indiomar sets the tone early! The singer came to play tonight!
Alex Zurdo misses the open look! A rapper never misses the fiery bars... But misses the orange!
Alex Zurdo turns it over in the center circle! Butterfingers from this rapper!
Alex Zurdo gambles for the steal and pays the price! Tendency to rush!
Indiomar cuts and scores! Sharp as their microphone, this singer!
Cut! Halftime. Alex Zurdo's jersey is completely drenched in sweat. Did you know Alex Zurdo entered the dunk contest... At 5'9"? Courage knows no height. Back on the court. The crowd greets them with a standing ovation.
Daddy Yankee stares in disbelief! The look of a rapper who just lost everything!
A bucket from Alex Zurdo goes in and out! Heartbreaking from mid-range!
Farruko takes off into the right spacing! Eyes in the back of the head and elite court awareness!
Indiomar labors up the court! Trudging like a singer dragging the chorus!
Farruko walks off in silence. This league veteran gave it all but it wasn't enough.
Farruko watches the crowd file out in silence. Indiomar prefers not to look. I spent my evening screaming into a microphone, and honestly, I'd do it all over again. That's all! Coming up: 'Hotel Hell: Airbnb With No Lock Edition.' Chills guaranteed.
Matchday 5 — vs Phoenix No-Defense
119-103 (W)
Daddy Yankee locks eyes with the opponent! The stare of a rapper who means business!
Funky converts off the pick and roll! A layup with trademark unreal swagger!
Funky with a double team! The reflexes of a rapper catching the fiery bars!
Alex Zurdo, this dark horse, draws the double and finds the open shooter! That dawg mentality!
This newcomer Indiomar recognizes the zone and attacks the gap! Genius!
The players disappear into the tunnel. Indiomar asks for an ice pack. Did you know Indiomar started basketball because he was terrible at soccer? Sometimes failure leads to greatness. The show goes on. Players take position. Silence. Whistle.
Alex Zurdo scores with pure God-given talent. A hook shot in transition! Too smooth!
This seasoned vet Farruko has the arena rocking! A hostile crowd off the charts!
Alex Zurdo sacrifices the body taking the charge! This potential breakout star ultimate teammate!
The story of Alex Zurdo: a rapper by morning, a baller by night. The fiery bars would be proud!
Final buzzer! Alex Zurdo's rapper shift on the venue ends in triumph!
Daddy Yankee moonwalks across the hardwood. Farruko attempts the worm. One of them pulls it off. Tonight I chewed through two pens. The office supply budget is going to explode. That's a wrap! And now, 'The Price Is Right: Why Nobody Answers the Phone Anymore.'
Matchday 6 — vs Los Angeles Nursing-Home
88-105 (L)
This total unknown Alex Zurdo in the starting lineup! Let's see what this total unknown brings!
This total unknown Alex Zurdo shanks a catch-and-shoot triple in the paint! That's uncharacteristic!
Turnover by Daddy Yankee! Spitting the fiery bars requires less coordination, clearly!
Alex Zurdo gets screened out! Stuck behind their hot mic like it's a wall!
A fadeaway jumper from Daddy Yankee back to the basket! That's a statement right there!
End of the second quarter. Alex Zurdo is breathing so loud you can hear it from here. Did you know Alex Zurdo keeps a photo of his dog in his right shoe? It's a Bichon. Back on the floor, faces full of determination.
Alex Zurdo slaps the floor in frustration! Slapping harder than a rapper hits the workbench!
That one wasn't even close, Farruko! Stick to spitting the fiery bars!
Farruko spaces the floor perfectly! Great read of the system!
Funky grabs the shorts! This potential breakout star is running on fumes!
Alex Zurdo walks the tunnel in silence! Done for the night, back to rapper life tomorrow!
Indiomar walks like someone carrying the weight of the world. Funky drags one foot after the other. Tonight I chewed through two pens. The office supply budget is going to explode. Alright, good night! Up next: 'Secret Life of Your Mailman.' Episode 47.
Matchday 7 — vs Toronto Border-Patrol
114-105 (W)
This well-respected player Farruko gets the crowd going early! The energy is building!
This raw talent Funky does it again! A catch-and-shoot triple with effortless precision!
Alex Zurdo with the denial defense! This dark horse not giving an inch!
This big-name player Daddy Yankee leads the fast break and dishes! Easy bucket off the assist!
This hungry young player Indiomar recognizes the over-help and punishes it!
The players disappear. Alex Zurdo has a makeshift neck brace out of a towel. Anecdote: Alex Zurdo tried to impress the Toronto Border-Patrol players with a warm-up dunk. Hit the rim. With his face. We're back! Flushed cheeks and hungry eyes on the players.
Daddy Yankee with a two-handed slam off the pick! Using screens better than most pros!
Daddy Yankee tips their mouthguard to the crowd! The rapper gesture with their hot mic!
Daddy Yankee barks out defensive calls! The voice of their hot mic echoes across the floor!
Farruko is the people's champion! A rapper for the people, the fiery bars for all!
Daddy Yankee waves goodbye to the field house! See you next time, from their hot mic to the leather!
Funky and Alex Zurdo swing Farruko around by his arms like a carousel. He looks sick. My evening? I spent it holding back tears. Of joy? Of exhaustion? Both. That's a wrap! And now, 'The Price Is Right: Why Nobody Answers the Phone Anymore.'
Matchday 8 — vs Minnesota Ice-Wall
92-106 (L)
Indiomar comes out hot! Heated up and ready, the singer means business!
An off-balance shot by Funky on the low block is way off! Tough night for this rising star!
Daddy Yankee loses possession! The fiery bars never leaves a rapper's hands like that!
Indiomar watches them score! Just watching, like watching their microphone gather dust!
Alex Zurdo takes off and delivers a deep three! Their hot mic by day, buckets by night!
Halftime! Daddy Yankee walks barefoot on the cold tunnel tiles. Fun fact: Daddy Yankee blocked a shot in the finals... And dislocated a thumb celebrating. Classic. We're back! The coach drew stuff on the whiteboard, let's see if it works.
Daddy Yankee, this solid build, pounds the scorer's table! Tendency to force bad shots on full display!
Farruko short on the attempt! Needs the reach of their hot mic!
This player nobody saw coming Alex Zurdo runs the pick-and-pop to perfection! Tactical mastery!
Funky, this tweener, looks exhausted off the pick and roll! The legs are gone!
Indiomar wipes a tear! A singer who poured everything into the effort!
Alex Zurdo slams his fist on the bench. Funky places his palm flat, as if to calm the surface. My evening? A microphone, cold coffee, and the greatest show on earth. What more could you ask for. Good evening! Up next: 'Fixer Upper: Renovating a Studio on a Twelve-Dollar Budget.' Challenge accepted.
Matchday 9 — vs Houston Blast-Off
93-130 (L)
Farruko, this do-it-all player, takes the court! The immense pressure is electric!
This seasoned vet Farruko misses the mark! A hook shot goes begging from downtown!
Alex Zurdo with the careless pass! Spitting the fiery bars with more care, please!
Indiomar, this tweener, fouls unnecessarily facing the rim! Ego the size of Texas!
Indiomar buries their face! Hidden from view, the singer can't watch!
Halftime. Farruko's hair is completely soaked, like climbing out of a pool. Rumor has it Farruko talks to his basketball in the locker room. Nobody dares say it's weird. Break's over, time for basketball. Let's go.
Indiomar clanks it off the rim! That sounded like their microphone hitting the chorus!
Daddy Yankee is gassed! More tired than after a full day of spitting the fiery bars!
This well-respected player Farruko gets pickpocketed on the low block! Sloppy handling!
Farruko, this legit talent, refuses to high-five! Hot head hurting the chemistry!
Funky refuses to make excuses! A rapper owns the fiery bars failures too!
Farruko pushes away the reporter's microphone with a gesture. Funky takes the interview and says 'not tonight'. My evening in one word? Epic. In two words? Epic and loud. That's all for tonight. And now: 'Deadliest Catch: Rush Hour on the Beltway.' Documentary.
Matchday 10 — vs Denver Horse-Track
104-113 (L)
Tip-off! Farruko gets us started! Let's go!
This unknown gem Funky throws up a prayer from way beyond the arc! Not answered!
Intercepted! Indiomar's pass snatched right out of the air! A singer would never be that careless!
Daddy Yankee gets burned on the switch! Hotter than a rapper's worst day on the job!
Daddy Yankee treats the Wilson like the fiery bars and sinks it. Easy as pie for a rapper!
Break! Farruko grabs an ice bag and slaps it on his knee. Anecdote: Farruko once wore his jersey inside out for the entire first quarter. Nobody dared say anything. Here they come. You can read the determination on their faces.
Funky shakes their head! A rapper who can't believe that just happened!
Alex Zurdo with the off-balance bank shot! This newcomer couldn't set the feet!
Alex Zurdo with the decoy run! Diverting attention, classic rapper misdirection!
Funky digs deep! Deep as a rapper digs into the fiery bars!
Alex Zurdo, this swiss-army-knife type, trudges off the gymnasium. Lessons to take from this one.
Indiomar stares at the floor while Farruko mutters something inaudible under his breath. I spent this entire evening standing because my chair has been broken for three games. Nobody fixes it. We're out. Up next: 'Say Yes to the Dress: Budget Three Fifty, Theme: Elastic.' Good luck.
Matchday 11 — vs New York Over-Timers
87-108 (L)
Daddy Yankee wins the opening tip! Tipping off with rapper energy!
Farruko bobbles and misses! Fumbling the rock like it's a Monday morning!
Sloppy handling by Farruko! Spitting the fiery bars is done with more finesse!
Alex Zurdo overcommits! Going all-in like a rapper on the fiery bars, but wrong!
Indiomar dribbles the orange beautifully for a two-handed slam! What touch!
Halftime whistle. Farruko high-fives his teammates on the way out. Did you know Farruko started basketball because he was terrible at soccer? Sometimes failure leads to greatness. Resumption imminent. The players wrap up their express warm-up.
Indiomar walks away muttering! Muttering about the chorus under their breath!
Daddy Yankee sends it long! Too much power, not enough finesse from this rapper!
Alex Zurdo pushes the pace in transition! Freakish explosiveness showing in every play!
Daddy Yankee, this established star, making mistakes from exhaustion! The body is failing!
This player making noise Farruko shakes hands and moves on. In the end, lack of consistency proved costly.
Daddy Yankee pulls his cap down over his eyes. Alex Zurdo doesn't have a cap, and it shows. Your commentator survived one game, four coffees, and a sandwich of questionable date. Thanks for being here. Now put down the remote, it's time for 'Wheel of Misfortune.'
Matchday 12 — vs Cleveland Twin-Towers
87-132 (L)
Daddy Yankee gets the starting nod! A rapper starting with their hot mic confidence!
Funky just barely misses! Close as a rapper getting the fiery bars almost right!
Farruko throws it away! A pass worse than a rapper tossing the fiery bars!
Funky, this all-around player, gets exploited in the switch! Shaky emotions under pressure exposed in the mismatch!
Funky gets a technical for complaining! Hot head on full display!
The players head to the locker room. Daddy Yankee is sweating like a racehorse. Anecdote: Daddy Yankee threw up before his first pro game. No more pre-game burgers ever since. We're back! The coach drew stuff on the whiteboard, let's see if it works.
Farruko with a rough free throw from the right corner! Heavy feet at the worst time!
Alex Zurdo finds a second wind! The rapper engine roars back to life!
Farruko forces the pass! Forcing their hot mic where it doesn't fit!
Alex Zurdo mouths off in the dying seconds! A rapper venting about the fiery bars!
Daddy Yankee gave it everything! Everything a rapper has, left on the court!
Farruko's lip is trembling. Funky dodges the cameras by pulling up his hood. Fun fact: my sound engineer fell asleep during the second quarter. I woke him with an elbow. That's it for tonight. Coming up: 'True Confessions: I Put Ketchup on Pasta.'
Matchday 13 — vs Boston Ring-Chasers
78-123 (L)
Indiomar bounces the damn ball pre-game! Getting that rhythm going!
This jersey-selling name Daddy Yankee muscles up a floater but can't get it to fall!
Farruko throws it out of bounds! Like launching their hot mic into the void!
Funky gets caught flat-footed! This player nobody saw coming beaten to the spot!
Funky slams the ball in frustration! Injury-prone body on full display!
Break! Farruko takes his jersey off before even reaching the locker room. Fun fact: Farruko got rejected at a casting for a deodorant commercial. The irony. Alright, it's time. The second half waits for no one.
Indiomar skips it off the rim! The chorus has better hop than that!
Alex Zurdo is cramping up! This diamond in the rough trying to shake it off! Limited stamina!
Funky trips up in the restricted area! A rapper never trips at work... Right?
This diamond in the rough Indiomar shakes the head in disbelief! Nothing going right!
Alex Zurdo blows past to the tunnel in disappointment. This diamond in the rough will learn from this.
Farruko walks head down toward the tunnel. Indiomar drags his feet behind, shoulders slumped. Yours truly held it together all evening without a bathroom break. That's professionalism. We're out! And now, 'House Hunters: Broom Closet Edition.' Cozy open concept.
Matchday 14 — vs San Antonio Skyscrapers
87-115 (L)
The game begins and Daddy Yankee is ready! You can see night-in night-out consistency written all over his face!
This raw talent Indiomar whiffs on a buzzer-beater! The crowd groans!
This unknown gem Funky loses concentration and the rock with it!
Funky gets back-doored! Didn't see it, like not seeing the fiery bars behind their hot mic!
Funky with the crafty buzzer-beater! That dawg mentality on display!
Break! Daddy Yankee rips his shoes off the second he reaches the locker room. Anecdote: Daddy Yankee tried to impress the San Antonio Skyscrapers players with a warm-up dunk. Hit the rim. With his face. Break's over, time for basketball. Let's go.
Alex Zurdo fires away away from the huddle! This unknown gem in a dark place mentally!
Alex Zurdo can't hit the ocean right now! Another miss for this newcomer!
Daddy Yankee communicates the switch! Clear as a rapper's instructions!
Funky crosses over sluggishly! Limited stamina catching up with this potential breakout star!
Indiomar sits on the bench post-game! Sitting like a singer after their microphone broke!
Daddy Yankee kicks his towel across the floor. Indiomar has already left for the locker room, alone. Fun fact: my sound engineer fell asleep during the second quarter. I woke him with an elbow. That's it for tonight. Coming up: 'True Confessions: I Put Ketchup on Pasta.'
Matchday 15 — vs Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest
76-121 (L)
Alex Zurdo, this who-is-this-guy player, wins the opening tip! Great start for the team!
A tear drop from Funky catches the back rim and pops out! So close!
Daddy Yankee gets the ball stripped! The fiery bars would have stayed in a rapper's grip!
Indiomar gives up the easy bucket! Easier than belting the chorus!
Alex Zurdo glares at the Wilson! Like it personally betrayed this rapper!
Players head to the locker room. Funky has tape on three fingers. Did you know Funky knits to unwind? Made a scarf in Oklahoma City Treasure-Chest's colors. By accident, obviously. Back on the court. The coach changed the starting five, that'll be a surprise.
Alex Zurdo gets blocked! Rejected harder than a rapper's worst day on the job!
Indiomar struggles in overtime! The singer hitting the wall with the chorus!
Funky double-dribbles! Spitting the fiery bars doesn't have that rule!
Alex Zurdo throws their hands up! Like a rapper when their hot mic breaks!
Indiomar looks at the scoreboard one last time! Numbers don't lie for a singer!
Funky punches his locker when he gets to the locker room. Farruko slides down the wall to the floor. While you were watching the game, I was desperately searching for my pen. Still haven't found it. That's a wrap! And now, 'The Price Is Right: Why Nobody Answers the Phone Anymore.'
My Team finishes #16 (2W-13L). Better luck next season! MVP: Funky.
Season Journal
Kill the cameras, turn off your phones, and shut your mouths because what we're about to witness tonight only happens once in a generation. We're in the belly of an arena where the floor trembles under the bass, where the Jumbotron spits fire, where 20,000 lunatics are screaming their heads off before the tip-off even happens. The franchise walking onto this court isn't a basketball club, it's a war machine forged in the pain of defeat and the madness of impossible comebacks. Every player here has gladiator blood in his veins and an ego size of Texas. The team with no name, baby!
Listen, I've watched hundreds of players come and go in my broadcasting career, but Funky is something else entirely. He's the kind of player who makes you jump out of your chair and scream "OH SHIT" at your TV without even realizing it. The man is massive, a wingspan like a pterodactyl, and a killer instinct that even the coaches can't explain. This man feels the game. He knows where the ball is going to land before the shot even leaves the hand. He reads passes like he's reading minds. At this level, it's not basketball anymore, it's straight-up sorcery.
The scary thing is that the more pressure rises, the more he rises with it. Fourth quarter, down by three, the opposing coach screaming, the crowd roaring... And he just shrugs, takes the ball, and nails a step-back three over three defenders draped all over him like it's a Tuesday morning shootaround drill. This is the kind of player you don't just build a team around, you build an era around him. And tonight, that era begins.
And because this season couldn't possibly be normal, the coach went out and signed Funky. The man. Is. A rapper. I'm going to let that marinate for two seconds. A rapper. On a professional basketball court. With guys who jump 3 feet off the ground. This dude jumps 6 inches, on a good day, with a running start and the wind at his back. But he's got their hot mic and apparently, the technical motion of a rapper and a pull-up jumper are "basically the same thing, give or take 90 degrees." That's what the coach said. The team doctor immediately requested a cognitive evaluation for the coach.
Let's talk money. We'll keep it short because there ain't any. The budget is so low that the equipment manager also does the accounting, the post-game spread is leftover Domino's on discount, and the last free agent who toured the facility ran for the hills. But damn it, these guys don't care. They play with the fury of men who have everything to prove and nothing to lose. This is the most dangerous team in the league, not because they're good, but because they don't give a single damn about losing.
My Team finishes #16 (2W-13L). Better luck next season! MVP: Funky.
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