March Madness: Our Fantasy Discworld Team
By the grace of almighty A’Tuin, let’s get ready to ruuuuuuuuuumble! Um. In a chance bit of scheduling nirvana, the first round of March Madness begins today—on the same glorious day that the 40th (!) Discworld novel is birthed into this world. All hail March 18!
Because it’s not necessary on the Disc for things to “make sense,” we’re honoring the publication of Raising Steam, which sees Ankh-Morpork grappling with the introduction of steam engines, by drafting our fantasy basketball team, plucked from the denizens of Terry Pratchett’s unstoppable, incorrigible imagination.
If for no other reason than that DEATH will probably find it fascinating to watch. No one, save Rincewind, will allow themselves to see him in the stands anyway.
Point Guard: Moist Von Lipwig
With his mastery of his non-notable looks and a bevy of disguises, Moist could bring a bit of Globetrotters flair to his role as floor general. Serving as The Patrician’s Mr. Fix It, Moist has turned around the fortunes of the Ankh-Morpork postal service, Royal Mint, and soon, the steam engine industry. Surely he can take care of a simple basketball game.
Shooting Guard: Victor Tugelbend
Being simultaneously the most athletic and laziest player on the team, he’ll undoubtedly find the easiest way to the basket. He can’t sing. As we learned from his star turn in Moving Pictures, he can’t dance. He can handle a sword a little, but more importantly, he can probably pass well to his teammates and defend the perimeter, if he deems that the best way for him to do the least work on the way to victory.
Small Forward: Susan Sto Helit
Goth Mary Poppins takes the court as the enforcer, with her handling of Mr. Teatime and the Auditors buoying her stats. Her grandfather, DEATH, dispatches her to fix all the problems he can’t, which shows a versatility critical to Helpfulness Personified’s on-court success. Her perfect memory can’t hurt either.
Power Forward: The Librarian
Oooooook. He won’t be monkeying around. No, really, he won’t. Don’t even say that, or he will rip the netting off the basket and strangle you for a slow and untimely death.
Center: Carrot Ironfoundersson
Bulging muscles, staggering height, a dwarfish compulsion to know and follow rules—there was never any other choice. Ladies and gentleman, the pride of the City Watch! Do try not to foul him as he will probably have you arrested.
Nuclear Option: The Luggage
Break glass on this half–suitcase, half homicidal maniac only in case of extreme Monstar-like emergency.
Benchwarmer: Rincewind
Basically, at no point should Discworld’s unluckiest wizard be allowed on the court. He can sit next to Sam Vimes on the bench, because quite honestly that man deserves a rest. Rincewind’s athletic contributions should be limited to practice, in which he drills everyone on quickly and efficiently running away from enemies.
Coach: The Patrician
I, for one, welcome our new benevolent Ankh-Morporkian overlord. The Machiavelli of sarcasm has the strategic foresight necessary to successfully coach this ragtag group of underdogs and oafs. He’ll rule the team with an iron fist of democracy. One man, one vote: he’s the man, and it’s his vote.
Referee: Granny Weatherwax
Fouls: she can’t be having with that kind of thing, as she splutters and zooms around the arena on her broom, terrifying spectators and participants alike.
Concessions: Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler
Sausages inna bun! Pies with personality! Get yer hot sausages inna bun! Probably gluten-free; probably pig free, actually.
What book do you want to reimagine, March Madness–style?