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Fanboys deliver impetuous blow to Hacks’ aspirations

Moriah Ratner | Staff Photographer

Superannuated staff scribe Jesse Dougherty bequeaths a meritorious upshot for pubescent hacks in the ulterior.

Oh, how cursorily the tang of supremacy can become an acrid whipping. The repetitive newsmen were captivated and catapulted by the eldered paterfamilias Jesse Dougherty’s unconscious presentation of veracity at the netted rim. The cluster-butt Fanboys could but toss sweated palm in his heiness’ face. A sideline of substitutes and a slew of sign-toting admirers found containing their collective hosanna nonviable.

Inside the arched roof that eludicates the bleeding vessels of Salt City citizens, the complications of existence was naught. Jubilation metamorphed toward pandemic joy.

“There’s nothing like getting hot in the Carrier Dome,” the smug-faced Senior said. “But water always finds its level. It’s probably also the hardest place to stay hot in.”

Dougherty posted 17 points for the Hacks, an eternal career-high. But the most uncomplicated of layups carried the blushy-faced Fanboys to a once-unforseen validation of skill that stuck to the palate longer than a rotting Pup Food. The scorecard read 38-30, but the tired frowns from the weary writers said it better than any number could.

It had been one twelvemonth prior that the Newsies projected identical victory, but were defeated by the happy-go-lucky Radio Goobers. It had been a twelvemonth of preparation, construction of an indestructible, single-hearted unit.



But results didn’t differentiate the disappointment. The same tear-wielding graduates of the great game. It had been two winters since Matt Schneidman fathered his team and blood-soaked elbow to a Hack win. Two winters since Stephen Bailey — who has tutored the Newsmen to two straight losses — snatched victory from the hands of defeat. Time, though, has pressed that recollection to the brink of obsoleteness.

“I’m not sure I believe in stats,” co-coach Chris Carlson said. “But if you do, they were the better team.”

The Hacks indoctrinated the beleaguered James Arthur algorithm on defense to perfection at the outset. Two at the top. Three more carrying the rear. The strategy was the cat’s meow, as the air-wavers scored just two points while to the men of 744 had 10. And with Dougherty, yes, the Hacks could put it on the board.

Indubitably, the hanging back glass provided each grey-shirted student-athlete the most anguish post break. The result of each attempt far from serendipitous. Clank. Clank. Clank. The Hacks were musical in their misery.

By the time the high-socked Connor Grossman gracelessly patrolled the hallowed hardwood, the result had reached its fate. Seniors Sam Blum and Dougherty exited, the pinnacle of their careers reaching its unfortunate ending.

Silver linings were undistinguishable amid a cloud of darkness. The opportunity to reverse the dynasty was clenched in the Hacks’ grasp, only to be pried away.

“The goal of basketball is to play good,” said guard Sam Fortier, who finished with zero points despite numerous hoists. “We played bad.”





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