Fictional Hooper Bracket: The Elite Eight

Billy Hoyle made rabbit tureen out of Bugs, and Space Jam has no more representation in the tournament. (As previously noted, Michael Jordan and LeBron James were ineligible because they were playing themselves, and we desperately wanted to avoid sports’ most tiresome debate.)

Neon once again overshadowed Butch McRae, and all of you who forgot/don’t know how great of a player pre-injury Penny Hardaway was should spend some time on YouTube watching old Orlando Magic highlights instead of the Obi-Wan Kenobi trailer for the 50th time.

As far as the matchup goes, Billy’s jumper and handle will have to be on point to counteract Neon’s size and strength. Both players have an overload of charisma, and Hoyle’s trash-talking versus Neon’s gravitational pull will be intriguing. Shaq didn’t really have a lot of lines in Blue Chips, and perhaps that was for the best because when he’s asked to carry a film, like he carried the late ’90s/early 2000s Lakers, we end up with Kazaam or Steel. (Also, I’m always up for letting Nick Nolte cook, and boy is he searing steaks with some gasoline in Blue Chips.)

However, if this comes down to a shooting contest with Neon standing at the top of the 3-point line needing to hit a jumper not to lose, you can bet your ass Billy is going to let him know he’s hustled players a helluva lot better than Boudeaux. Don’t worry, though, Neon, your fallback plan — the NBA — is preferable to whatever happens in the hopefully never made White Men Can’t Jump 2: The Legend of Curly’s Gold.

The novelty of Uncle Drew hasn’t worn off yet, as he took down fellow shrouded-in-smoke-and-lore hooper Tommy “Shep” Sheppard from Above the Rim. The horrible taste of Pepsi never tasted so close to Coca-Cola, and now Uncle Drew is a win away from the Final Four, edging ever so close to the world’s stickiest Gatorade bath.

Jesus Shuttlesworth was forced to grow up quickly, and that life experience helped him get past fellow high school standout Teen Wolf in a hotly contested Sweet 16 battle. (Scott Howard out here trying to find one girlfriend, while Jesus is taking down two at a time with the help of recruiting pitchman/campus pimp Rick Fox and his stable of coeds. Like Ray Allen forgetting how DMs work, we didn’t need to see that, Spike. The implication was there.)

As far as the game goes, all I need to do is to work in a Kyrie Irving-vaccine joke to secure the fourth wall triple-double. That said, as for the Jesus-Uncle Drew matchup, this shouldn’t be close, but I’ve been wrong before. Shuttlesworth has the size, handle, shooting, and hatred for nonsense to easily defeat Uncle Drew. He Got Game is art; Uncle Drew is capitalism masquerading as art. Johnny Knoxville was dressing up as an old man for comedic purposes a solid decade before Pepsi pitched the idea to Kyrie Irving. (Knoxville and Irving are more alike than you know as both are equally cool playing with death. BOOM.)

The only way I’ll accept an Uncle Drew victory is if I have proof that Pepsi hasn’t been stuffing the ballot boxes like they tried to stuff seizure-inducing Nitro Pepsi down our throats.

Get this corporate clown out of here, and send him over to the AARP Fictional Hooper Bracket so Papa Shuttlesworth can dust him, too.

Unlike everyone at Shawshank State Prison, Sidney Deane noticed what kind of shoes Grandmama was wearing, and shut her old-ass down before she could make a break for the Elite Eight. Deane doesn’t get swindled easily, and it’ll take Jackie Moon’s best marketing ploy to get him to purchase a ticket to free corn dog night. There were never any corn dogs, Jackie, and the people of Flint deserve their meat on a stick.

Moon has been avoiding elimination like he avoids handing out refunds in the form of cash. (Walking away with your life was the only refund for the botched wrestling match against a bear.) Monica Wright McCall, the last woman in the tournament, was the latest victim of Semi-Pro’s scams, and it was a doubly cruel twist of fate that it came against a coach every bit as stupid as the one who buried her on the bench at USC.

I’m not sure what “Love Me Sexy.” even means, but Moon’s hair is on par with Deane’s jumper. While we actively see that Moon lacks the confidence and skills to be the person he wants to be, Sidney isn’t fooling anyone because we know who really calls the shots in his house. (And shout out to him for listening to his wife Rhonda the way Billy should listen to Gloria.)

Neither of these players has really been tested, but that’ll change here. There’s a generational divide between these two movies, and each character is iconic in their own right. Will the voters favor Deane’s alley-oop to Billy, or Jackie’s lob to Clarence? The only way to find out is to vote (or wait a couple days until the poll closes).

The only thing that would make this more compelling to white people would be if you sprinkled in shots of a concerned Coach K throughout the telecast. (I lived in Aspen long enough to tell when someone has had a few shots of botox, and let me tell you, Coach K is on the juice.) Air Bud ended Sandy Lyle’s heat check and, sadly, funny and fat doesn’t supersede a cute, cuddly dog who rescues fatherless youths.

Jimmy Chitwood looks to get one step closer to his proverbial Butler Fieldhouse after taking out the last remaining television-based character in Steve Urkel. While the selection committee acknowledges Hoosiers is one of the most popular basketball movies ever, it stands by its decision to make Chitwood a seven seed. Hickory’s star player has big UCONN 2014 energy, and Air Bud can’t just show up, wag his tail, roll over a couple times, and expect a W.

(I know I say that now, but like Duke in the Final Four, I have a sinking feeling that a dog is going to win this bracket because dogs remain undefeated. More people were upset when Old Yeller was put down than when Clint Eastwood euthanized Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby.)

Will Jimmy Chitwood prove that fundamentals and footwork reign supreme? Or will Air Bud reestablish man’s best friend’s hold over our hearts? Just sit… stay… and vote (good boy!) to find out.