This Team Is Doomed

Commentator 1: Well gentlemen, the recent performances by this team have sunken to somewhere close to mediocre. Do you think it’s time we break out the doomsday hyperbole?

Commentator 2: It may already be too late for that. I fully expect this team to spontaneously combust like a Spinal Tap drummer. They have been playing like a junior varsity high school team. It’s only a matter of time before their home city changes its name to avoid being associated with this pathetic excuse for a professional organization.

Commentator 1: I think you mean “disorganization.”

Commentator 3: Exactly! I am shocked the team members themselves haven’t resorted to wearing paper bags on their heads. It certainly wouldn’t make them play any worse.

Commentator 2: Last night I looked up “terrible” in the dictionary and found their team photo.

Commentator 1: There’s no denying it. Despite the fact that they would still make the playoffs if the playoffs began today, I think it’s perfectly reasonable for us to discuss them as if they were threatening to break the league record for disastrous seasons. Are there some very selective stats we can show that underscore our assertion that this team is an embarrassment to the league?

Commentator 2: Of course there are. For example, look at these particularly obscure figures that have never graced the screens of our teleprompters before, mostly because of their irrelevancy. They make a clear case that if the perfect storm of injuries, bad luck, and whooping cough beset the starting line-up, they will finish no better than an embarrassing seventh.

Commentator 3: Those are some grim facts. Even though we’ve left out far more common and significantly less damning measures of success, the numbers don’t lie.

Commentator 1: No they don’t. Though I bet these player’s mothers do – every time they are asked what team their sons now play for. I can’t imagine anyone taking credit for giving birth to one of the dozen men whose personal stats fall squarely in the 50th percentile.

Commentator 2: This is a mathematical bloodbath. Fans of the team should just look away.

Commentator 3: Remember when this team had so much promise?

Commentator 1: Last Tuesday?

Commentator 3: Exactly. It’s hard not to feel nostalgic for that era.

Commentator 1: Instead of getting nostalgic for the past, let’s talk about the future. Gentlemen, look into your crystal ball and tell me what you see on the horizon for this complete waste of potential they call a team.

Commentator 3: I expect the bulk of the team members to be working retail jobs by midseason while the stadium is converted into the world’s largest Wal-Mart in a vain attempt to erase the embarrassing memory of this dismal season. I see no other possibilities.

Commentator 2: I agree completely. It seems unlikely that the team will rebound from this pathetic lethargy.

Commentator 1: Though when they do,  catapulting themselves from the lowly sixth place position in which they currently languish to the exalted third place, currently occupied by a team with fully two more wins than they have, should we plan to discuss the team’s recovery using words like “unprecedented” and “miraculous”?

Commentator 2: By “recovery”, do you mean three wins in a row?

Commentator 1: Of course.

Commentator 3: Instead of that, I think we should pretend we never gave this team their Last Rites and simply discuss them as arguably the best team to ever have played the game.

Commentator 2: Like we did on Tuesday.

Commentator 3: Exactly. Back when they deserved it.