Twas the afternoon of Saturday, February 16. The Immanuel Lutheran Lancers trudged through the icy fields of corn and despair to arrive at the destination of Alma High School. Their foe not being the notorious Alma-Pepin Eagles, but rather the malevolent Gilmanton Panthers. The Lancers, though worn and battle-scarred from two previous back-to-back conflicts, pushed onward through the raging, freezing winds to face the foe they had been training to overcome their entire lives.

Spectators from far and wide traversed to Alma to witness the epic battle, filling the grandstands to their absolute maximum capacity. The band played an uplifting battle cry that made the soldiers thirsty for action and sweet victory. General Williams and General Radichel, leaders of the Immanuel Lancers, rounded up their troops to give them the pep talk their longing ears had been eagerly waiting for. Hearts were broken, tears were shed, but nothing could have prepared the Lancers for the trials they would have to face. The Panthers glared across the colosseum at the Lancers, gnashing their teeth and spitting saliva all over the soon-to-be ruined floor.

At precisely 12:30 PM, the festivities began. The game started out just like any other regular game: with Noah Sydow pushing, shoving, rebounding, scoring, and doing everything within his immense power to give his team the victory. His teammates also did their part, unleashing their innermost fury upon the enraged Panther named Tanner Hovey (aka Leviathan). As the struggle reached the midway point, it became clear to all present that this would be no ordinary battle: blood, sweat, tears, and all other bodily fluids were not lacking on the battlefield.

Halftime was declared at the sighting of a meteor on a course straight for the stadium. Carter Rud, distracted momentarily by the looming space rock, collided with his relative Jarin Rud, causing a chain reaction of players tipping each other over like dominos. The meteor struck the earth right at center court, propelling the players all over the gym. They bounced off the walls several hundred times before finally losing momentum and coming to rest on their respective benches.

Even more weary and worn than they were before the confrontation began, the players managed to get their ten short minutes of rest before heading back into the thick of the fight. The ancient gong (consisting of 22 parts tin to 78 parts copper) was rung, and the game resumed.

The moment the ball was passed back in bounds, a mysterious humming noise filled the air. Isaiah Plath paused with the ball in mid-dribble, taking a moment to scratch his head in confusion. There was a brilliant flash of bright light, replaced a moment later by a peculiar-looking machine resting underneath the Lancers’ hoop. The lights dimmed as the door of the machine slowly opened, spewing a large quantity of fog out over the surface of the court. The crowd gasped as an army of short, slimy aliens crawled out of the capsule. The one in the lead stood up on his tippy toes so he could look as intimidating as possible and squeaked, “You are all under our control! You humans will now be our slaves!”

Just when it seemed all hope was lost for the battle-weary Lancers, the floor of the arena opened up and out crawled a behemothic brachiosaur, upon whose back rested the king of the strings himself, Anthony Garebear. The roar of the beast combined with the sound of the cello to create a perfect harmony never heard before. The glorious battle cry gave the Lancer warriors just what they needed to finish the fight.

With the game forgotten due to the rampaging aliens and a wild Garebear riding a behemothic brachiosaur, Noah Sydow lunged for the ball. Trying not to slip on the goo left on the court by the slimy little aliens, Noah weaved through all the commotion toward the opposing hoop. There were five seconds left on the clock, and the Lancers were behind by one whole point. Noah had no other choice. He quickly ran up the tail of the brachiosaur, struggling to keep his balance whilst maintaining a constant dribble. He vaulted over the wild Garebear and began ascending the dinosaur’s long neck. When he reached the brachiosaurus’ head, he saw that he had a clear shot toward the basket. Noah went for the dunk.

The following words could be used to describe the dunk: Glorious. Superb. Dazzling. Magnificent. Disastrous. The moment before Noah brought the ball down through the hoop, Panther Ryan Clouse came out of nowhere, slapping the ball right out of Noah’s hands! The referee, angry that he didn’t get to witness the play of the century, called a foul on Clouse, giving Noah the opportunity of two free throws. There were 0.03 seconds left on the clock. The entire assembly grew silent, not even the aliens or the dinosaur-riding Garebear made a sound.

Noah squared up to the basket and took his first shot. Swish. The crowd went wild for several precious seconds before hushing again. The game was tied. Noah eyed the basket with a determined gaze. Pretending the rim was a giant donut, and the ball was his finger reaching into the center to pick it up, he took his second shot. As the ball left his masterfully trained fingertips, Noah paused to look around at all of the faces in the crowd, all of their emotions resting in his hands. As the ball swooshed through the net, the crowd stormed the court in the form of a frenzied mob.

Being a humble fellow, Noah avoided the praise and attention of his peers, and sought the nearest vending machine to quench his growing thirst. He was quite disappointed to find that there was only water inside, and as the hero breathed his last, his final words were heard only by those nearest to him: “Why no soda?”
 

Note: The Lancer boys are 8-12 (4-9 conference) and ended their season with a regional loss at Owen-Withee. The JV and C-team are done for the year. The Lady Lancers are 5-14 (3-11 conference) and ended their season with a regional loss at McDonell.

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