Pickup basketball has no shortage of interesting characters. Lance Pauker found the 10 worst.
The World’s Tallest Point Guard: He’s only 160 pounds, but you’d think that a seven-inch advantage over everyone else on the court might click something in his brain along the lines of “Whoa, look at this height advantage. Maybe I should, you know, be a big man.”
The W.T.P.G. has only entered the paint three times in his life. Instead of bruising with the bigs, he prefers to use his unrivaled length to launch jumper after jumper. The W.T.P.G. likely wears a headband, thus reinforcing the fact that he’s really a finesse player.
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Ray Lewis: At some point in this behemoth’s life, he may or may not have starred on the gridiron. It’s easy to picture. Applying his linebacking prowess to hoops, Ray doesn’t necessarily believe in calling fouls, nor is he aware of basic basketball fundamentals. This includes (but is not limited to) dribbling, pivoting, shooting, and not head-butting opponents in the chest. On the court, Mr. Lewis has primarily two roles: crashing the boards and sucking the joy out of the game for everyone else involved.
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The Unabomber: No possession is safe when the Unabomber comes to play. A notorious “please, please, please don’t let this guy be on my team” type, the Unabomber has the uncanny tendency to, without warning, strike from anywhere on the court. Of course, his strikes are often unsuccessful, as the Unabomber fires up approximately 34 three-pointers per game. Hitting the rim on nine of these attempts is generally considered a good day.
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Hot Sauce: The spiciest player on the court, Hot Sauce uses his mouth-watering razzle-dazzle to great effect, game in and game out. Although he’s yet to touch any round object without traveling, he won’t hesitate to let you know that he’ll “break yo ankles” time and time again. Hot Sauce’s signature move is the Wide-Eyes Hesitation. In addition to looking really impressive, the move is also excruciatingly intimidating, and generally incites tremendous fear into smarter, more skilled, and more athletic defenders. Or not.
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The Sweatmonster: Formerly thought to be extinct, the Sweatmonster is the only living species remaining from that ’80s workout video in your mom’s closet. Guarding him is kind of like guarding a Slip ’n Slide. Or a piece of seaweed. A really, really, really rancid piece of seaweed. With hair. That isn’t any good at basketball.
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Mr. This-Is-the-Worst-I’ve-Ever-Played: After missing his first two shots, this individual will proceed to blame his misfortune on previously unknown factors such as the weight of the ball, the height of the rim, the wind, and what he ate for lunch. After realizing that he is, in fact, playing indoors, he will proceed to inform you that he’s never played worse. Although these words sound vaguely familiar, you proceed to nod your head in sympathy, hoping that he retires from the sport sooner rather than later.
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Mr. NBA Tryout: You have never spoken to, seen, or heard of this guy prior to your most recent pickup game. So naturally, you dismiss his quiet demeanor for basketball inferiority rather than strong and silent confidence. After he scores 18 of the opposing team’s 21 points, you realize that this man is quite possibly the greatest basketball player you’ve ever had the misfortune of playing against. Later, during a friendly postgame chat session, you learn that he was the sixth man for a respectable mid-level Division 1 program. He also tells you that he once had a failed tryout with the New Jersey Nets, but then chose to focus on law school rather than pursue a professional basketball career in Greece.
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The Fossil: He’s old enough to be your father, maybe even your grandfather, but he’s still been to every game. Although not much of a contributor on the offensive end, the Fossil will instead opt to concentrate on his stellar defense stance, which, despite lacking even the most remote trace of lateral quickness, still manages to be somewhat effective. Having learned some valuable lessons from Dr. Naismith himself, the Fossil, despite not being the most physically intimidating specimen, is always there to tell you why kids these days are ruining the sport.
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The Mega Mouth: His game doesn’t do the talking, so he does. Playing against the Mega Mouth is kind of like playing against a wind-up doll. If you let him, he will go on forever.
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Mr. GQ: Mr. GQ comes equipped with a headband, an authentic jersey, flashy high tops, 24-inch socks, three wristbands—on each arm—and, for special circumstances, eyeblack. A true showman, the Derrick Zoolander of the hardwood may not exactly play the part, but he most definitely looks it. Before each game he runs to mid-court and chest-bumps what can only be an imaginary friend of his. He then rips off the only pair of tear-away polyester pants that currently exist outside of Eastern Europe.
—Photo Daquella manera/Flickr
You forgot Mr. InstantRelease….the guy who’s idea of defensive prowess is to ALWAYS go for the steal [no matter how improbable] and when he whiffs completely, continues to run full speed the other way hoping the inbounds pass [which occurs after his man scores an easy basket] gets him an easy layup. Kills a game faster than rain mixed with hail.
Another one, Gambler.
The guys that’s always trying to gamble on who wins… it get’s really annoying when I play basketball.
Lance
I think I’ve met all of these guys! Great Job!
Reminiscent of Patrick Hruby’s ESPN page 2 column:
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=hruby/070517