He may be the least athletic person on the entire campus, yet for some reason a cruel God placed him in a 7-foot body. And now your school's head coach and his ego foolishly believe they can form this giant freak into the next Wilt Chamberlain.
He'll never be more than a role player, hunched and wheezing as he plods down the court, and every point he ever scores will be thanks to entry passes deflecting off of his brick hands and into the hoop, but he will come through with some clutch fouls in his career. His biggest accomplishment will be convincing attractive girls on campus that he is a future NBA millionaire, when in fact all they really hooked up with was an asthmatic with a pituitary disorder.
Unlike the 7-foot freak, The Leaper is flush with athletic ability. He's quick, ripped and can jump out of the gym. If you could scientifically engineer a basketball player, this is who you would create.
Probably the only negative about The Leaper is that he's not actually all that good at basketball. He's great if you feed him on the fastbreak, but other than that he's kind of lost on the court and prone to turnovers and concentration lapses. Some people say he needs to work more on his game, but he does that already; he spends 5 hours a day working on dunking fundamentals.
It's paying off, too. Remember that dunk he had in his seven-turnover performance last year when your team was eliminated in the conference tournament? It's got more than a million YouTube views now. AWESOME!
Absolutely no one feels comfortable about this guy being on the team. I mean, there's a reason he started his career in junior college and not at a DI program. But hopefully he got those crime and academic problems figured out and, hey, he'll only be on the team for two years.
He could be just the missing piece the team needs to make a long run in the Tournament, and that's worth sacrificing a little bit on principles, right? Isn't that what every team does? It's a delicate balance. It will work out okay.
Ah, crap. Why is he getting out of that Escalade? That's driven by a chauffeur? Who is armed? Oh, no. This is not going to end well.
As dunking is to The Leaper, throwing up 3's is to The Long-Range Marksman. He can hit a shot from anywhere on the court and even if he can't, he'll keep shooting that shot until it goes in.
Some coaches will force The Long-Range Marksman to run the offense, but if the Marksman makes his first shot, no screaming coach is going to stop him from throwing up 10 more right away. Open looks, double-teamed, pulling up for 3 on the fast-break, once this guy is "feeling it" nothing can stop him. To friends he'll say that he could score 40 points per game if the coach ran the offense through him. And he's right. It's just that those 40 points would just come on 100 shots.
He's busted his ass every day in practice just as hard as every other player on the team, if not harder, but has nothing to show for it. No scholarship, no playing time. He just loves the game of basketball. And that's really all he needs.
Yet a few times a season the walk on will get a minute or two in garbage time and the fans and his teammates will celebrate his dedication by screaming for him to shoot the ball every time he touches it, and applauding when he dribbles without bouncing the ball off of his foot. Four years of hard work and the payoff is … mass condescension.
Oh well. At least he's recognized on campus, unlike the other team mascot who no one knows outside of his furry costume.