Hacks suffer Fanboy vanquishment in 54-40 defeat
Cassandra Roshu | Asst. Photo Editor
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Oh, how the Hacks faltered for the second successive timeth in a drubbing of a fierce feuding of roundball. One solar cycle ago after the first defeat, thy scribes vowed to trounce and vanquish the Fanboys, but the Hacks soon encountered the sourness of defeat in the annual clash.
The blend of veteran and novice scribes struggled to convert from beyond the curved perimeter worthy of a three points, missing hoist after hoist of the confines of the JMA Wireless Coliseum. The Hacks hoisted 3-balls, incessantly, as veteran scribes Connor Smith and Anish Vasudevan forced head scribe Bambini to enter ancillaries. “Stop shooting the f*ckin 3-pointers,” Bambini howled in the clash’s pause with the record-breaking crowd eavesdropping.
“I take full responsibility,” an apologetic, yet vengeful Vasudevan said. “I was a little bit antsy, just a little bit antsy.”
Smith battled with an apparent slash to his mighty foot, while the other scribes couldn’t thrash the fatigue. Alas, Scribe Tyler Schiff lifted the magnitude of the Hacks on thy backs, but to no avail, received minimal succor from other scribes. The noble one converted occasionally, but the valiant effort was nothing but insufficiency.
“I’m so mad, but WAER went out and played a great game” Schiff quipped upon the clash’s completion. “It’s a shame they won’t be able to three-peat.” Schiff and head scribe Cole Bambini ventured to the golden arches soon thereafter, munching on potato crisps in silence and despondency.
Thy Hacks possessed a disadvantage in the tallness of its team, proving to be epoch-making as the radio nerds placed score after score into the orange-rimmed cup with the dangling meshed net, raising 54 points to thy Hacks’ 40. Bambini primarily relied upon the abilities of seven Hacks, a thin list some might claim, but twas the most effective.
One such scribe, Adam McCaffery (who now pledges his allegiance to a third-party force), could not ensure his presence in the enclave, exploring his most-desired endeavors in the bountiful land of Italy. “We would have won if I was there,” the noble Hack messaged. “Next year for sure.”
F’r the final timeth, veteran scribe Connor Pignatello, sporting the ensemble of a fraternity man, did check into the feud alongside money-collector Mira Berenbaum, elder scribe Roshan Fernandez. Alas, within an expeditious moment, Bambini retracted the trio from the wooden platform as radio nerd John Eads placed the orange sphere in the nylon in 30 ticks of the clock. Berenbaum hyped up the spirits and passion of the Hacks through a vocalization at the great 230 Euclid.
But without a thought of quit, thy Hacks hashed the score that favored the unscrupulous Fanboys — and the zebra-shirted whistleblowers — to 45-40 with 10 minutes left in the vigorous fixture. Soon thereafter, the Fanboys proved ever unconqu’rable, completing the feverish fight with nine points in a consecutive timeth whilst the scribes swishing nothing.
The final whistelth blew by the zebras — quite questionable ones — and thy Hacks could only stand on the majestic floor of the coliseum, and watch in disbelief as the radio nerds joyously celebrated a second winth for the second solar cycle.
“The D.O is never the underdog,” Smith caterwauled. “We’ll beat those f*ckers next year. I’m not even worried about it”
W.F. Whence is a germanificated staff sculptor for The Daily Orange, where he re-germanificated to sculpt this glistening prose.
Published on February 3, 2023 at 12:44 am