The Fictional Hooper Bracket: Venice Beach Region

It’s basketball time folks. Ignore Tom Brady trying to own the spotlight on Selection Sunday and decipher Progressive Insurance sales representative Baker Mayfield’s social media post later, and give the hardwood the attention it deserves. It’s almost spring, hit the CBS music, pull Ernie, Kenny, and Chuck off the Inside the NBA desk, it’s March Madness time!

To celebrate, we at Deadspin went through 104 fictional basketball characters in film, television, advertisements, and video games to construct a bracket of the greatest fictional hoopers of all time. This is a multi-generational effort with characters that spread across six different decades.

What the selection committee was looking for most was notability. Yes, basketball talent is important, but we’re matching up spirits from the beyond to video game characters and werewolves. What we wanted most are characters that you will respond to.

The best way to explain what went into the seeding matchup process would be by sharing the formula, but I lost the cocktail napkin I wrote it down on so you’ll have to trust me when I say it would make Professor Lambeau want to bail me out of an assault charge (and put me in therapy with Robin Williams).

We’ll kick it off with the Venice Beach Region, a clear tip of the cap to White Men Can’t Jump.

Just know that many of the first-round matchups are intentional, especially the doppelgängers, (Neon Boudeaux vs. Big Fella, Billy Hoyle vs. Monix). Those that aren’t, if you delve deep into the minutiae and worry about who has the correct number next to their name, you’re going to drive yourself insane, but feel free.

If you’re mad about seeding, let it out. We welcome your complaints, just be sure to do your civic responsibility and vote for your favorites on Twitter @Deadspin.

So grab your Jim Nantz quarter zips and preferred pair of basketball shorts because working from home has never been less efficient. The long journey for one fictional movie, TV, video game, animated, or on-screen basketball star to shine the brightest starts now.

Monix is a vital character in Semi-Pro. Sure he was well past his prime on the court, but what he did have was a great mind for the game and was a natural team leader. He inspired the men at their lowest point after realizing they weren’t going to be an NBA team. And he might be the first coach in the history of sports to argue a ref out of a call, and physically picked a piss-stained Jackie Moon out of a dumpster. All the credit to Monix as a supporting actor, but that Woody Harrelson is going up against a much younger Woody Harrelson who is a lead actor in arguably the greatest basketball movie of all time, No. 1 overall seed Billy Hoyle. Billy Ho has it all. He’s got the shot, the court vision, a tremendous passer and one of the greatest pressure players in the history of sports movies — the guy made a ¾ court hook shot with his car and relationship on the line. Billy is also a one-man wrecking crew, dominating the first 26 minutes of this movie and that is with people on the court yelling out lines like, “Yo momma teeth so yellow she could butter a whole loaf of bread.” - Stephen Knox

Jimmy can dunk. Jimmy can jump. Jimmy is pretty sweet on you. Jim Halpert can’t dunk, Jim fails to tell the woman Jim loves how Jim feels, and instead Jim resorts to making fun of people like Jimmy to make Jim feel better and impress Pam. Sean isn’t impressed with Jim’s game. Sean prefers Jimmy. Sean is 100 percent positive Jim would make fun of Jimmy’s shoes, and Sean thinks it would be funny if Jim lost to someone Jim would make fun of. Sean also isn’t sure Jim still has the motivation to hoop now that Jim has Pam.

If Jimmy didn’t get hurt, Sean thinks Jimmy would roll Jim. Jim’s handle is nice, and Jim can shoot a bit, but Jim’s competition was Roy, the emotionally abusive alcoholic; Darrell, and the rest of the warehouse. Jimmy was playing pickup at a gym in Manhattan.

Sean thinks this gimmick is getting old, and Sean realizes now that the reason The Jimmy was only in Seinfeld for an episode is because Jimmy using the first person all the time annoys Sean. After a couple paragraphs of referring to Sean as Sean it’s become clear to Sean that Sean needs to stop, and just let the voters vote for Jim because Sean can’t write in Jimmy voice again. - Sean Beckwith

Perhaps I overrate the Mon-Stars. It could be pure nostalgia or that I was 10 years old, but the original Mon-Stars were frightening. Weird aliens taking the abilities of real players was creative, and their transformations were scary at the time. It took years of rewatches to overcome my fear of Nerdlucks.

The Tune Squad got a lot of help from Jordan, but it was Buggs Bunny who came up with the placebo — a bottle full of water labeled “Michael’s Secret Stuff” — to motivate the team’s second-half comeback. Buggs is a cerebral player, and if I could remember specific examples from Space Jam: A New Legacy, I’d cite those here.

While more NBA players than just Charles Barkley lost their powers in the OG Space Jam, he’s the most notable. (The only other Hall of Famer to “lend” his talents to the Mon-Stars was Patrick Ewing.) The reason the seeding in this matchup isn’t flipped is Buggs was more of an emotional leader than an on-court presence. Pure talent and physicality says Pound; gamesmanship and intelligence says Buggs. Look for the lunacy of March Madness’ 5-12 matchups to leech into this iteration, as well. - Sean Beckwith

I don’t know what sparked Omar Epps to take the role of Quincy McCall in Love & Basketball, but he had previous success in a Quincy role, so that could’ve factored into it. (He went by just Q in Juice, but his mom definitely called him Quincy.) If you play for the Lakers in any capacity, you’re immediately better than the best player on a fictional ABA team. Extra points for all the one-on-one he played in that movie in what I assume was preparation for this one-on-one tournament.

The bigger question is are we talking Quincy pre- or post-injury? Seeing as you’re probably voting on these based on your own personal preferences because this is more of a popularity contest than a basketball competition, it’s up to you.

The reason Clarence Withers, may be the best player on Jackie Moon’s Flint Tropics team, wasn’t a higher seed than his less capable teammate Moon is because it takes two to alley-oop. It might have been an innovative play in 1976, but now Clarence wouldn’t be anything more than a less-athletic Derrick Jones Jr. - Sean Beckwith

Here’s where you’ll find your upset. Henry Steele, played by Robby Benson, has too much quickness and ball-handling skill for Ken Reeves and his reconstructed knee. Steele’s game is dazzling, and the fact that his coach spent so much time trying to wrap him up, no one will see the inevitable offensive explosion coming, as witnessed at the end of One on One, when Steele ripped off his shackles and took over a nationally-televised game in the waning minutes to lead Western University to victory. Reeves has the size, and game know-how, but Steele’s game is too advanced, too dynamic. He’s lethal from the outside, and can go to the basket like ‘Pistol’ Pete. That’s too much for the older, slower, injured-ravaged Reeves, who’ll get no help from Coolidge. So ‘All the way up with a red-hot poker’ Steele can play ball wherever he likes. - Eric Barrow

Blue Chips was one of the biggest reasons I got into the NBA, which is admittedly an extremely weird entry point. It’s not really a good movie. Nick Nolte finding a moral compass and tattling on himself in what would’ve been the greatest post-game news conference ever aged horribly. Not only is the plot of Blue Chips moot in today’s NIL landscape, it’s flipped. Kids like Butch McRae, played by pre-injury Penny Hardaway, should be able to profit off their own talents, and the reason paying players seems sleazy is because everyone thinks of Happy, aka the sleazy booster from Blue Chips, when they think of boosters.

As far as the matchup goes, Ricky Roe’s shooting may have been enough to earn his dad a new tractor, but it’s not enough to take down one of the most dazzling players of the ’90s. Penny, er McRrae, was my favorite player growing up, and the only reason Lil’ Penny didn’t make the bracket is because he could only hoop in his dreams. - Sean Beckwith

This matchup is more competitive than it appears to be at first glance. In addition to being a pretty clear Dr. J knockoff, Stretch is the face of the greatest basketball game ever created — NBA Street Vol. 2. This should be a cinch. Only, if you ever went against Stretch in NBA Street, he wasn’t even the hardest boss to beat in his own game. Whitewater, the white guy with a splashy jumper from Seattle, was always my most difficult boss to beat during the hundreds of times I beat that game. There’s even a GameFAQs thread asking who’s the better shooter: Steph Curry or Whitewater? (I actually created the entire And 1 roster, from Hot Sauce to Skip 2 My Lou, in NBA Street Vol. 2 if you’re wondering what kind of kid I was in high school.)

I’ve never played these Backyard Sports video games, but unless Pablo is an afterthought of a boss, he’d probably be able to stick with Stretch. If the question was about which game is better, then it’s route. If we’re getting into the logistics of the game because we didn’t want to confuse anyone by putting a guy named “Whitewater” (or “Bona Fide”) in the bracket, it’s close. - Sean Beckwith

The Big Fella was great in his day, and for one day in Uncle Drew. With Neon Boudeaux, it was clear that riches were in his future. Somehow Slick informed Coach Pete Bell of this giant in New Orleans that no one had ever heard of. He stepped on the Western University court with the other prospective freshmen in polos and jeans and destroyed the team’s best players. The alley-oops thrown to Boudeaux, there was no need to run another play in life. When inbounding the ball underneath their own basket, his teammates should’ve just thrown the ball over the basket and let him go get it. His few months at Western working on his jump hook would lead a viewer of Blue Chips to believe that Boudeaux would become one of the greatest NBA players of all time. With Big Fella, we saw someone that stays in shape teaching children the are of self defense but is far past his prime. However, in that one game, the one that put him in the hospital, he played like possibly a veteran Neon Boudeaux. Big Fella just used his size near the basket to keep all opponents out of his way. It was his last on-court appearance, but was certainly something special. - Stephen Knox