2025 Week 10/11: Squeaky Sneaks
This section is brought to you thanks to our friends at the Kyle Luke Academy for hoops
My wife and I just finished season 2 of Nobody Wants This. It’s fine. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because in the spirit of this section, I’m weirdly obsessed with the basketball scenes in this adorable rom-com.
Episode 7 of Season 1 finds our complicated lovers trying to meet each other in their personal hobbies. Noah invites Jo to his weekly men’s league basketball games. Shenanigans occur. Wives are met. Ex-lovers are offended. You know the drill. But there’s a scene before all of this that rings particularly true.
When Jo walks into the gym, she is greeted by an absurdly overlit, nearly empty rec center gym. Anyone who has played pickup or in a men’s league knows the gym I’m talking about. Sometimes it’s in a half-decent community center where older folks walk around talking about “affordability in purple states” and Reese’s book club. Other times, it’s on the top floor of a middle school in an area of town you didn’t know existed, despite living in that town for 10 years. Or maybe it's in the basement of a non-denominational church- the kind where they play a bunch of guitars at service and the gym doubles as the practice studio. Still others are in high schools where you’re not totally sure how anyone got access to said gym, so the game is over before it starts when you can’t get the hoops down.
My least favorite is the infamous huge court, with the 3 shorter courts running perpendicular to it. Line chaos. Regardless, those games always hold a few undeniable truths, and whoever set-designed the gym from Nobody Wants This absolutely nailed it.
The stands are totally empty except for your girlfriend and maybe your mom if she lives in town.
I’ve played organized hoops for 20+ years post high school, and literally the only person who has been to one of my games is my wife. This isn’t odd insofar as no one should expect a fan section at their washed-up league. It’s funny, though, because it’s always so jarring to see a gym that has 10 rows of bleachers baseline to baseline with nobody in them. Other rec sports are different. Softball games are usually in parks, so there are always people around, or in complexes with a bunch of fields so there’s at least the appearance of humanity nearby. The same goes for soccer, and god help anyone who plays flag football into their 40s. Friends and family don’t attend those games either, but it doesn’t matter because those events aren’t held in a massive, empty room that could double as a CIA black site. The look on Jo’s face is the same look on my wife’s when she came to my first game after we started dating 15 years ago. It’s a mix of “should I be here?”, “I would like to go home now,” and most of all, “where the fuck am I?”
Nobody is very good.
Again, not surprising, but it’s amusing to watch a bunch of dudes in their 30s attempt a lay-up line or clank free throws off the back iron for 15 minutes during warm-ups. Despite that, you still see a lot of pretenders. You see the garage-sale Kobe and LeBrons. You see the leggings under the shorts because you like to think it helps circulation (guilty!). You see the ironic headbands. You see that razor-thin line between self-awareness and delusion blur, because who knows? Maybe you make a few 3s tonight. I love this tension. I love the guy who swears he’s here for fun, but then there’s one minute left and the team is down two. Then, it’s time. The laughs dry up. The smiles fade into scowls. High-fives become claps to get back on defense. The “fun” stops. For about a minute and a half (accounting for timeouts), this person slips into an alter ego they will never tell their friends and family about. Because that alter ego sucks. That persona will be gone after the game, when the ironic headband and arm sleeve come off, but he will not be forgotten.
The piercing, squeaky, sneaker sound in a hollow gym.
That noise is fun at an NBA game when there are 20,000 people (you can hear their shoes!). But in here, in these gyms where there are 13 people, it’s enough to knock you right out of the pair of overpriced Luka’s that you bought when you were 35 and thought a neon colorway was something that you could still make work (you turn 38 in March). Of course, that was before he was traded and your entire franchise went to hell, and now you’re just stuck running around in some shoes that are better fit for your 2-year-old because your 4-year-old seems too mature for them. Just a random example, and not applicable to me in any way.
There’s a whole other bit to be done here about dudes in their late 30s wearing shoes designed for NBA players, but we’ll save that for another day.
Random Aside: the first time I saw JJ was actually in one of these gyms (Mizzou Rec Center, 2006. Court line chaos, btw. I played hundreds of pickup games there and still couldn’t tell you where the fuck out of bounds is). My freshman year college roommate went to high school with him. Actually, aside to the aside - I guess that means he went to high school with a couple of guys in this league? You guys know Jamie Vaughn? Anyways, Jamie saw JJ playing and was like, “I know that guy, he can buy us beer.” Here we are 20 years later.
I’ll keep it short for the second thing. That’s the IYKYK test when it comes to actors and hoops.
Adam Brody as Noah? Charming. Endearing. Lovable. Hopeless.
Adam Brody as a basketball player? Just absolute trash. I watched him take one jumper and just went, “Nah.” The ten-second clip of this video is worse.
What is that? I love the idea of this plotline. I just wrote 500 words about a 10-second scene. But you can’t have a jump shot from the hip without being even more self-aware if he’s bad. They tried to dress him for the part. Black calf socks, black shoes. Okay, sure. Looks half decent in the uniform, but zero handle and even worse J.
Now, Timothy Simons, on the other hand, there’s something to work with there. His character Jonah on Veep was one of the funniest of all time, and here is is in a rom-com flashing a little game:
*Editor’s Note: Kyle originally requested a clip of Tim Simons’ jump hook, but I couldn’t find that, so I clipped a sequence where he fires off a couple jumpers. The joke in the scene is that all the guys are missing, but you can clearly see from his form that Timmy can hoop- especially compared to Adam Brody.
Here for it.
Another aside: One of my favorite things to do is compare Hollywood people who look gargantuan to the height of actual NBA players. For example, Timothy Simons is 6’4. He looks like an absolute giant in every scene from this show and Veep. He towers over everyone, and it’s a constant bit in every show he is in. He is one inch taller than Steph Curry.
Anyways, my man Tim may have a nice little running jump hook and a half-decent J, but he’s not a fan. After a little digging, I found this excerpt from an interview he did 10 years ago.
“Tim is from Maine. Jimmy assumed Tim’s HS would name the theater after him until he found out he didn’t do theater but played basketball. Tim hated playing basketball but played for 12 years with no success. The teams he was on sucked.”
And on that note, onto the games.
Season Power Rankings
| Team | Rank | Change |
|---|---|---|
| Steve Keers | #1 | --- |
| Kyle Luke | #2 | --- |
| Andrew DeWitt | #3 | ↑2 |
| JJ Bailey | #4 | --- |
| Justin Childs | #5 | ↓-2 |
| Will Armistead | #6 | ↑1 |
| Micah Thoman | #7 | ↓-1 |
| Ryan Munson | #8 | --- |
| Andres Santana | #9 | --- |
| Dan Resnick | #10 | --- |
| Lee Morehouse | #11 | --- |
| Jimmy Slater | #12 | --- |
Strength of Schedule
| Team | Rank | Change |
|---|---|---|
| Ryan Munson | #1 | ↑1 |
| Steve Keers | #2 | ↓-1 |
| Will Armistead | #3 | --- |
| Andres Santana | #4 | ↑4 |
| Lee Morehouse | #5 | ↑1 |
| Micah Thoman | #6 | ↓-2 |
| Jimmy Slater | #7 | ↓-2 |
| JJ Bailey | #8 | ↓-1 |
| Andrew DeWitt | #9 | --- |
| Justin Childs | #10 | ↑1 |
| Dan Resnick | #11 | ↓-1 |
| Kyle Luke | #12 | --- |
Playoff Odds
| Team | Odds |
|---|---|
| Steve Keers | 99% |
| Kyle Luke | 98% |
| Andrew DeWitt | 98% |
| JJ Bailey | 96% |
| Justin Childs | 91% |
| Micah Thoman | 63% |
| Will Armistead | 45% |
| Andres Santana | 5% |
| Dan Resnick | 5% |
| Ryan Munson | 1% |
| Jimmy Slater | Eliminated |
| Lee Morehouse | Eliminated |
The
Games
The Games
This section brought to you by the largesse of the Lee Morehouse Foundation
JJ vs. Micah (82.7-80.7)
“Demons run when a good man goes to war,
Night will fall and drown the sun,
When a good man goes to war.
Friendship dies and true love lies,
Night will fall and the dark will rise,
When a good man goes to war.
Demons run, but count the cost;
The battle’s won, but the child is lost.”
Flabbergasted. Bamboozled. Hoodwinked. Hornswoggled. Flimflammed.
On Monday evening, Micah was all of those things and more. Earlier, before the rage and the bewilderment and the stunned disbelief, there had been Possibilities. Not Big Possibilities, but not Not Possibilities. The kind of Possibilities you might mention, in an off-hand, what-do-you-know-anyway sort of way, to your dog. Possibilities you can only see if you tilt your head, stand on one leg, and squint.
But, still.
Down less than 5 points after Sunday’s action completed, with Brandon ‘Biggest Leg in Texas’ Aubrey against JJ’s Ashton Jeanty. On paper, facing a wildly talented running back playing a Cowboys defense with a tendency to leave 10-gallon-hat-sized holes in their run fits is not a clear path to victory.
And yet.
The Raiders continue to find new definitions for ineptitude. The offensive line is your favorite defensive lineman’s favorite offensive line. Their passing game runs through two men who are indistinguishable until you see them try to catch a football. Or run a route. The Las Vegas offense is two big White boys running routes that begin in a three-point stance catching passes from the fastest I’m-Him-to-Has-Been story this side of Mr. Unlimited. They should lean on Jeanty, but they just… don’t. Monday night he had 6 carries for 7 yards. He also caught 6 passes for 27 yards. This isn’t a stat that anyone keeps, because why would they, but there is a very good chance that Jeanty has the worst ratio of tacklers contacted to yards gained in the history of the sport.
That makes Jeanty the overstimulated Mom of the NFL. But for Micah: Possibilities.
The Cowboys dominated from the opening kickoff, scoring early and often. By the fourth quarter, Aubrey had 9 points and JJ and Micah were tied. The Raiders were down big and were throwing constantly. Jeanty was penned in any time he caught the ball.
It all started to get interesting for Micah late in the fourth quarter, when the Cowboys and Raiders conspired to put on the kind of end-of-game sequence that only happens when a good-bad and a bad-bad team play one another. The Cowboys drove down the field and turned it over on downs at the Raider 4-yard-line. The Raiders, in their infinite incompetence, saw their comeback bid (one endorsed only by the announcing team struggling mightily to retain their audience’s interest) end as Geno was cut down in the backfield for the 31st time this year by a man in a Cowboys uniform whose name I can’t (and won’t) pronounce.
There was 2:31 left on the clock the first time Dak Prescott sank to one knee, and Micah must have started to believe, just a little. Those distant Possibilities seemed closer at hand, sharper in focus. There was too much time for the Cowboys to run the clock all the way down. The Raiders had all three timeouts left! Two more kneeldowns and they’d reach fourth down, when a field goal would be the routine play call. Aubrey would kick a hole in the net between the goal posts and deliver the “The Amnesia Dude”s to the mountaintop.
Possibilities grew beyond their license, becoming Maybes. Some even fashioned themselves into Likelihoods, drunk on their own probabilities.
And then, something incredible happened. The Raiders, more intent on preserving the health of their 2-8 squad than feigning a will to win, took no timeouts. On fourth down, no special teams unit took the field. The Cowboys, with 38 seconds on the clock and apparently not realizing that a turnover on downs stops the clock, (or perhaps just no longer caring what happened), slammed knee to turf with steely resolve.
There would be no kick. No walk-off chip shot. No more Maybes or Likelihoods. No more Possibilities for Micah to pretend he didn’t believe.
The Raiders, not to be outdone, performed their perfunctory cowardice, wasting the final seconds in gentlemanly disgrace. They’d known this would happen since the moment they took the field Monday night- a drubbing at the hands of a team run by a slightly less insane billionaire might as well have been written in the stars.
But for one man, this outcome was not foreseen. It was not celestially predicted. He had been led up the garden path, taken for a ride and come out hustled, fleeced, conned.
He had no more Possibilities. Only anger was left.
Andres vs. Munson (155.5-145.1)
Andres Week 11 High Score
The least impactful player in this matchup (if you don’t count JJ McCarthy shitting his pants for 6 points against a terrible defense) was still ginning up press as the reigning Skatt-Daddy of the NFL as he recovers from a season-ending ankle injury.
That’s the most on-brand thing a player has done since Russel Wilson told the world how he rehabbed his hamstring on a flight to London. Being on only one leg while medically disallowed from participating in his chosen athletic pursuit can’t keep this dude from mixin’ it up.
Munson: This sucks, bruh. I’d say I know what you’re but everyone reading this knows my squad, the oft-surmounted oh fiddlesticks, gets altitude sickness north of 130 points. And honestly, that’s fine with me- if I’m gonna lose by a few points, I’d rather be mucking it up in the street like Dan Dority and Captain Turner. Call me a coward and give me that 2-loss streak, but you know I’m right. You might win, but we both look like shit, and that’s what really matters here.
Speaking of looking like shit, I think Rachaad White got tired, y’all. And with Bucky Irving sidelined seemingly forever, he’s Frodo without Sam- he just needs someone to share the load. A pal to kick around a bog alongside and chomp down on some lambas bread with. He carried the running game for precisely two games in Tampa, and that was enough. No one has ever been happier to churn out 6-7 points a game and go home to spend the evening on aftercare for his new Sean Tucker Must Live tattoo.
Studs, Stokes and Strays
While wandering in the bewitching hell that is Instagram Reels, I recently learned that ‘stoke’ is not just a verb, but also a thing that you can have and cultivate. Here are some players from this matchup who are either Studs, Stokes, or (Catching) Strays:
Studs: Tet (yes, I know he doesn’t go by that but it’s a lot of vowels) is a budding superstar, it seems.Dude looks the part just produces.
Stokes: Kittle is So Back, and I’m So Here For It- there are few players more fun to watch when they’re having fun. LFG.
Strays: Tommy Townsend is the ugliest punter of all time, and that’s saying something.
Will vs. Steve (136.7-135.8)
When you are in as dire a strait as my squad, the oft-injured oh fiddlesticks, find themselves this year, you have to find some way to entertain yourself. A twig to cling to as you try to halt your rapid descent toward the forest floor of apathy below you.
Because I am a Bad Person, I often seek out emotional refuge in the misfortune of others. I will hastily skip past my own matchup, so rudely presented as the default when I open the ESPN Fantasy app, to hunt through the scoreboards of my compatriots for mirthful misjudgements and odiously opted options. I found one such pernicious product of prediction on Sunday afternoon on Will’s bench, when I noticed that Sean Tucker, seated cozily on the Megahurtz pine, went off for 37 points.
“HAHAHAHAHA!” I belly-laughed, certain of his defeat and eventual fall from grace, all stemming from this one mystifying mistake. “JUDKINS???” I hooted, incredulous that he would start a man of such questionable character of a player who was always going to score 37 points that day.
The usually unflappable Megahurtzes have been a little more mortal this year, with two losses coming after they scored more than 140 points. Both Micah and Justin have gotten the better of him. He beat the oh fiddlesticks by a mere 34.1 points. Blood in the water, you could say.
Josh Allen dropped a sublimely symmetrical 44 fantasy points while steering his Bills to 44 actual points. James Cook did his thing, Drake London and Puka Nakua weren’t (all that) hurt, and Tee Higgins managed to not expectorate on a fellow competitor. But ultimately, Kyle Pitts is always going to be Kyle Pitts, and Will will find just enough points to beat you.
(Three Falcons, Steve?)
Studs, Stokes, and Strays
Studs: Trey McBride has scored a touchdown in more games than he hasn’t this year. Seattle’s my favorite defense to watch in the league- they have some Dudes, their scheme is fire and they play hard, aggressive ball.
Stokes: Jeremy Cranshaw is giving Yosemite Sam, no cap. Scratch that, he’s giving Uncle Rico- his longest punt this year was 76 fuckin’ yards long. Dude’s bussin’. Bayshul Tuten’s name lives rent-free in my head- I can’t see him on the field without saying “Tute Tute!” in my head. Slay, Smol King.
Strays: Chase McLaughlin looks like your friend’s friend that you can tell is bad news but is cool for the first couple hours at the bar and then you come back from the bathroom and find him getting his ass kicked by four dudes who ‘had it coming’ because they ‘wouldn’t stop disrespecting Chi-Town that’s my city, dog’ even though he’s actually from Schaumburg.
This concludes the donation from the Lee Morehouse Foundation
Kyle Vs. Justin (139.4-83.7)
Look, Week 11 was divided into the “haves” and the “have-nots,” and the scoreboard reflects this pretty clearly. Either your guys showed up for work, or they didn’t. If you were a “have-not” playing a “have,” that was your ass. If you were lucky enough to be playing a fellow “have-not,” it was very gross, but competitive.
Then there is Justin, who is both a “have” and a “have-not” simultaneously. He is like a fantasy daywalker in that sense.
His “haves” are all Bears, and to this point, they have been enough- in aggregate- to get by. Since their bye week, Chicago doubled its rushing yards per game and has been a top-8 offense (or higher) in yards per game, points per game, and yards per play. That is very good.
That makes Justin a “Have.”
But, there is something of note. Since that bye week, every defense they played was in the bottom 10 when it came to allowing those things (save for the Saints, who only allow 317.5 yards per game because opponents’ field position is always great).
From a purely fantasy football perspective, here’s how the Bears’ schedule stacked up by position (based on schedule-adjusted points allowed) in Weeks 1 through 10:
QB: Easiest
RB: 2nd Easiest
WR: Easiest
TE: 9th Easiest
Then came the Vikings, and though the Bears won, their fantasy output was fatally meager for Justin. For reference, going into that game, the Vikings’ defense by fantasy position was:
QB: 14th Hardest
RB: 9th Hardest
WR: 6th Hardest
TE: 8th Easiest
And since the Steelers represent the easiest NFL defense left on the schedule, here’s how the Bears’ remaining schedule stacks up by position difficulty in terms of Fantasy:
QB: 5th Hardest
RB: 3rd Hardest
WR: Good news! 15th hardest
TE: 12th Hardest
So Justin stands astride both worlds, at once an established Have, proudly 14-8, and also a future Have-Not, because the key Haves have not played anybody. Should be fun!
Kyle, on the other hand, is now and will forever be a “Have.” This we know. I can’t even make fun of him this week because he did everything right except quarterback. I mean, me personally? I would have started the QB with the most passing yards in football against whatever the Raiders are pretending constitutes a defense. Kyle chose Matt Stafford against the defense with the fourth-highest QB pressure rate, allowing 200 passing yards a game. Whatever gets you off, brother. I won’t yuck your yum.
You might want to keep an eye on that kinda shit, though, since you and Will play the same guys the next two weeks before finishing mano a mano in Week 14. You start bleeding away points because you’re luxuriating in your Haves-Only lifestyle, and he’ll sneak right the fuck up on you. I’ve seen him do it before.
But what am I saying? Look at the Strength of Schedule. Kyle is a Have through and through. The lowest points scored against him by a gap of 43.2. The difference between the number of points Kyle has scored and how many have been scored against him is 297.5, or roughly 27 per week. Steve has outscored Kyle by 50 points on the season, and his season point differential is 72, or roughly 7 per week.
If Munson played Kyle’s schedule, he would have gone 8-2 in head-to-head matchups. But Munson did not have that schedule. Kyle did. Because Kyle is a haver. Always was, always will be.
DeWitt vs. Lee (125-106.1)
Look at DeWitt, lifelong Niners fan, turning his rabid support of Kyle Shanahan into fantasy wins. See, Justin? That’s how it’s done. Since he was pulled into the world, DeWitt has been dedicated to the boys from San Fancisco. When the doctor gave him the smack, he didn’t cry. He hit him with the JJ Stokes head waggle.
Admiddetly it was easier because he had no neck bones at the time.
He was swaddled in a Niners blankie, had a Joe Montana stuffed animal. He ate only rice for the first five yeards of his life. He didn’t speak until age six, but his first words were “Kaepernick will be a distraction.” His parents didn’t know what what that meant, but they do now.
So, as he does every season, DeWitt made sure to acquire and start any player clad in red and gold he could get his hands on. This week he had Christian McCaffrey and Brock Purdy in play (and Jauan Jennings getting some rest on the bench), and that duo accounted for 50+ points, which would be roughly half of his opponent Lee’s total. If he had played Jennings, it would have been more than half. God bless the Niners and Shanamania. May DeWitt’s fandom be forever blessed.
Jokes aside, I don’t get Brock Purdy at all. Like, as a concept. I know DeWitt doesn’t actually like him all that much, but a bunch of people really do. He got all of that cash, which isn’t that weird since that’s what QBs do, but it also came with a discussion of how fundamentally solid he is, or whatever. Like, there are the snide comments about his size and traits, but the people who love Purdy- and there are a LOT of those people, especially in fantasy football- treat those remarks as a sign of someone who “doesn’t get it.” As though the dumb football fans, the aging sports radio hosts, the dads at the barbecue six beers deep, just aren’t knowledgeable enough to appreciate Brock Purdy. Detractors are just stuck in an old school mentality; they want the 80s passing game back and all roughing penalties to be removed. Neanderthals. Not believing in Purdy is proof the game has passed you by.
Except…
I’m not gonna do my stats thing, or even my film thing, I’m just gonna say I don’t think I’ve ever seen Brock Purdy do something that a dozen other JAGs couldn’t do. Even guys I make fun of, like Jordan Love, routinely make a handful of throws a game that I acknowledge are sprecial and rad. Fucking Jameis Winston makes one of those between interceptions every time he plays. Purdy has never made a throw that makes me say, “Oh, I get it now. I see what they’re talking about.” He has made great throws, certainly, but not the consistent way dudes who get his level of love do. He’s just a guy with a good offensive coach who doesn’t fuck up a lot. How is he worth all this adoration? People had him ranked as a top fantasy QB this year. He was on every “late-season must-add” list. Maybe I’m dumb and wrong, but I just don’t see it.
If he wasn’t a Niner, DeWitt wouldn’t have even started him.
As for Lee- you know it’s a bad season when the rookie running back you bet on finally breaks out, after weeks and weeks of being slow-rolled by his own coach, and even that joy is ruined by the realization he might be too expensive to keep next year.
Injuries forced Vrabel to finally acknowledge Henderson’s existence, and he immediately became the best fantasy back. This surprised absolutely no one but Vrabel, and was vindication for the millions of guys who have held onto Henderson all season while screaming into the void. Unfortunately for Lee, Henderson costs enough that he probably isn’t the best keeper value on his roster, and isn’t markedly cheaper than he would be in the draft next season. Present fucked to hell and you don’t even get a future happiness discount? That’s a rough fantasy year.
At least the Chiefs aren’t genuinely at risk of missing the playoffs.
Dan vs. Jimmy (99.1-78.8)
I’m not sure what to say about this. On the one hand, Dan is technically still alive for the playoffs. On the other, this matchup was real depressing to watch or think about.
If you loaded up a plane with mannequins, then jettisoned the wheels after takeoff, you’d have something close to what these two teams are doing. They are technically still airborne, and whatever’s inside isn’t entirely worthless (mannequins have some retail value), but they’re not flying so much as slowly falling and no one will bother going to the crash site.
Jimmy made a trade, strapping a parachute to Ja’Marr Chase before the fuel tanks ran out, but that constitutes the pinnacle of achievable excitement at this point. Dan could still turn things up a notch by trading Taylor, save another life, but if I were a betting man, I think Jonathan will be going down with the ship.
Either Dan or Andres will be eliminated at the other’s hands this week, but if Daniel triumphs, he plays Micah next. Unlike on Jimmy’s plane, the mannequins on Dan’s have at least tried to fashion a makeshift landing gear. There’s a chance those little plastic fellas solve it and the aircraft finds a runway, but what does your heart tell you? You feel like buying some real estate along that flightpath?
Nah. That’s the flight of the damned, just like Jimmy’s. Don’t even need to make overhead announcements anymore. Just turn on some soft music and let gravity take its course.
