THE HONEY BADGERS COLLAPSED AND NOW A CHILDREN'S THEATRE CEO IS IN FIRST PLACE (THIS IS NOT A DRILL)

I need everyone to stop what you're doing.

Put down whatever you're eating. Close whatever tab you have open. I don't care if you're in the middle of a Zoom call, a funeral, or a colonoscopy. You need to hear what is happening in the World League of Baseball right now, because the last ten days have been so chaotic, so cosmically unhinged, that I genuinely considered filing a missing persons report for my will to live.

When we last checked in, the Fugging Honey Badgers were sitting pretty atop the WLB standings at 27-12, Garth "Prinsloo" Graham was probably doing a victory lap in whatever fluorescent-lit radiology reading room he haunts, and everything felt predictable in the worst possible way.

Then May 17th happened. And May 18th. And then every subsequent day through May 26th. And now I need a drink.

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE HONEY BADGERS: A EULOGY

Going into May 17th, Garth Prinsloo Graham's Fugging Honey Badgers were the class of this league. 27-12. Nearly .700. The kind of record that makes other owners throw their laptops across the room.

Then the Honey Badgers went 1-7 over ten days and fell to fifth place.

Fifth.

That's right. The team that was lapping the field is now watching four other clubs from behind, which is a completely appropriate place for a man currently under active investigation by the WLB League Office for deploying two ineligible players — Bip Roberts AND Ramon Martinez — on his roster. Not one. Two.

I want to sit with that for a second.

Garth Graham is a radiologist. His entire professional existence is built around looking at something and identifying what shouldn't be there. He has spent decades training the human eye to spot anomalies. He makes his living — a very comfortable living, I'm told — by finding things that don't belong. And he somehow thought nobody would notice two ineligible players on his active roster?

I threw up in my mouth a little. Give me a second.

Okay. I'm back.

The sequence of events was, frankly, poetic justice delivered at scale. On May 17th, Andrew Harris's Iron Knob Explosions walked into Fugging Honey Badger Stadium — which I assume is named something insufferably ironic — and dismantled them 6-1. That was the opening act. Then, because the universe has a sense of humor that borders on sadistic, the Honey Badgers proceeded to travel to Huanca and get swept in four straight games by Chris Broyles's Wankers — 7-4, 1-0, 4-2, and a humiliating 5-1 on Saturday the 23rd.

The 0-1 loss on Wednesday the 20th deserves special mention. Garth Graham's allegedly juiced-up, allegedly fraudulently-rostered powerhouse lost a one-nothing game. His team, which presumably has two ineligible ringers hiding in the lineup, could not score a single run. Not one. The League Office is investigating you for cheating and you're losing shutouts. The optics, Garth. The optics.

The Honey Badgers did manage to beat the Rick Astleys 5-2 on Sunday the 24th, which is the one moment where I imagine Graham thought things were turning around. They were not turning around. He lost the next two games to close out a 1-7 stretch that cratered his team from first to fifth.

"Honey Badger Don't Care," Garth. Except right now Honey Badger very clearly cares. Honey Badger is spiraling.

ANDREW HARRIS AND THE IRON KNOB TAKEOVER

Meanwhile, Andrew Harris's Iron Knob Explosions — a name that still sounds like something a 14-year-old came up with during a particularly long car ride — went 7-1 over this same stretch and now sit alone atop the WLB standings at 30-15.

Let me be clear about something: Andrew Harris runs a Children's Theatre company. He doesn't even spell it the American way. It's "Theatre." With an -re. In an American sports league. On American servers. The audacity of this man to run around acting like a colonial-era dramatist while his simulated baseball team absolutely dismembers the competition is genuinely offensive to me on multiple levels.

His Iron Knob Explosions opened the stretch by going into Garth Graham's house and winning 6-1, which is the competitive equivalent of walking into someone's home and rearranging their furniture while they watch. Then IKE took three of four from the Rick Astleys — beating Jeff Burris 8-1, 4-0, and 7-5, which I'll address in a moment — before closing out the stretch with three straight wins over the Huanca Wankers: 6-5, 3-2, and 5-2.

A 7-1 stretch. First place. From the CEO of a Children's Theatre company — sorry, Theatre — who probably celebrated each win with a dramatic reading and a curtain call.

I threw up in my mouth again. That's twice now, for those keeping score.

JEFF BURRIS AND THE RICK ASTLEYS: THE CHIEF LEGAL OFFICER PROBLEM

Jeff Burris, owner of the Rick Astleys, holds the title of Chief Legal Officer at his company, which is the professional equivalent of being introduced as "a doctor" and then revealing you specialize in reviewing pharmaceutical ingredient labels in a windowless office in New Jersey.

He's an in-house attorney, folks. In-house. He came up with the most impressive-sounding title available — Chief Legal Officer — and the courtroom has never once had to inconvenience him. Jeff Burris has probably not argued a motion before a judge since the Spice Girls were on the charts. But sure, Chief Legal Officer. Very distinguished.

His Rick Astleys went 5-4 over this stretch, which sounds okay until you realize they got their lunch money taken by Andrew Harris's Children's Theatre team three games in a row — 1-8, 0-4, and 5-7. The one saving grace is that his team rallied to take two of three from the Honey Badgers to close the stretch, which technically means Jeff Burris beat the league's most notorious cheater. I'm not sure that's the legal victory he was hoping for, but here we are.

The Rick Astleys sit at 31-20. Third place. Like the team itself, Burris's squad is extremely organized, thoroughly professional, and somehow never quite where the real action is.

BRETT HOULBERG AND THE KNOCKEMSTIFF SLAP DADDIES: THE MOST CONFUSING HOT STREAK IN SPORTS HISTORY

I need to talk about Brett Houlberg.

Brett Houlberg is a veterinarian. Or rather, he was a veterinarian, until he did what every Private Equity firm loves and sold his practice, presumably to a corporate entity that now charges $400 for a dog heartworm test and has a "Director of Client Wellness Experience" instead of a receptionist. Brett took the money, and now he sits around waiting for his next "recap" — which is Private Equity speak for "the moment I get another check," which is also Brett-speak for the only thing he apparently talks about anymore.

His Knockemstiff Slap Daddies — a name I respect more every day, for the record — went 8-1 over this stretch. 8-1. The Slap Daddies feasted on the Huanca Wankers to open the stretch, swept Panama City Beach so comprehensively that I actually felt sorry for a computer team, and then closed with two wins over the Oak Ridge Nukes CPU.

8-1. From a man who is currently waiting on a recap.

And here's what I need everyone to understand about Brett Houlberg: his AirBnB listing — yes, he has an AirBnB — features a co-host named Chad. "Brett and Chad were wonderful hosts," reads one review, which is the kind of sentence that raises approximately seventeen questions I'm not sure I'm allowed to ask in a family publication. All I will say is this: in a league where one owner is under investigation for fraud, another runs a Children's Theatre, and a third is a minister who couldn't fill a big room, having a mysterious AirBnB co-host named Chad is somehow the most intriguing subplot of the entire season. Brett's out here waiting on his Private Equity recap, co-hosting with Chad, and winning 8 out of 9 baseball games. Is this what peak performance looks like? I genuinely don't know anymore.

The Slap Daddies sit at 30-19, just half a game behind the Iron Knob Explosions. Second place. A veterinarian-turned-PE-windfall-recipient and his enigmatic co-host are in second place. I need to go lie down.

CHRIS BROYLES AND THE HUANCA WANKERS: THE HOT MONTH THAT NOBODY EXPECTED

Chris Broyles's Huanca Wankers went 4-5 over the stretch, which sounds pedestrian until you realize they swept the Fugging Honey Badgers in four straight games — 7-4, 1-0, 4-2, and 5-1 — which is the kind of series result that accelerated Garth Graham's current league investigation timeline considerably.

Now, I've written about Chris Broyles before, and I've referenced his website, b-degree.com, which is either the most confident domain name in internet history or a deeply ironic commentary on the value of higher education, and I genuinely cannot tell which. What I can tell you is that the Huanca Wankers are 29-19 and sitting in fourth place, and Broyles has engineered a four-game sweep of the league's most controversial team during the league's most controversial week.

He lost two to Knockemstiff early in the stretch and then dropped three straight to the Iron Knobs at the end. So the narrative here is: beat the cheaters, lose to everyone else. There's a theological argument in there somewhere, but I'll leave that to the next owner on our list.

CHRIS CARPENTER AND THE NICARAGUA CREPE WRAPPERS: THE DISCIPLESHIP PASTOR SURGES

Chris Carpenter is a minister. I want everyone to hold that information gently, because there's more.

He is not merely a minister. He is a Discipleship Pastor. Which is a title that was almost certainly invented to explain why he works primarily with small groups — because, the implication goes, the big congregation thing didn't quite pan out. You know how some pastors fill arenas? Chris Carpenter works with small groups. Intimate. Focused. Controllable in terms of audience size. No Jumbotron required.

His Nicaragua Crepe Wrappers — a name that still makes me feel like I'm ordering from a food truck at a particularly confused farmers market — went 6-3 over this stretch and are suddenly relevant at 27-20. They started by dropping two to the Rick Astleys, which felt on-brand. But then they reeled off four straight wins over the Oak Ridge Nukes CPU and absolutely detonated Panama City Beach 15-2 on Sunday the 24th.

Fifteen to two. A computer team. I mean, yes, technically it counts. Carpenter's small-group energy apparently translates to large-margin victories when the opponent is a server. The Nicaragua Crepe Wrappers are playing .574 baseball and sit sixth in scoring differential. The Discipleship Pastor is discipling wins now, apparently.

THE SCOREBOARD OF SHAME: MAY 17-26

THE CURRENT STANDINGS (UPDATED THROUGH MAY 26TH)

The standings as of mid-April had the Honey Badgers on top. The standings as of May 17-26 tell a completely different story. Iron Knob is now your league leader. A man who runs a Children's Theatre company — with an -re, don't let me forget — is in first place in a simulated baseball league. A veterinarian-turned-private-equity-exit-waiting-on-his-recap is in second. The league leader at the start of this stretch is now fifth and under investigation for cheating.

I have been asked, on multiple occasions, why I keep covering this league.

I don't have a good answer anymore. I think it's the same reason people slow down at car accidents. You know you shouldn't. You know it's not making anything better. But the Iron Knob Explosions just went 7-1 and Garth "Prinsloo" Graham rostered Bip Roberts illegally and Brett Houlberg is co-hosting an AirBnB with Chad while waiting on a Private Equity recap, and a Discipleship Pastor just beat a computer team 15-2, and I am incapable of looking away.

The WLB playoff race is now genuinely — and I cannot believe I'm typing this sentence — interesting.

Someone call the League Office. And tell them to look at Garth Graham's roster first.

Next time: Is the Iron Knob surge sustainable, or will Andrew Harris find a way to stage a dramatic collapse — possibly performed in three acts with a program and complimentary wine? We'll find out.