Just how accurate were Disney Channel Original Movies?

If you grew up in the ’90s like me, you’re probably familiar with Disney Channel Original Movies. Many of these made-for-TV works of art have plots centered around sports, from basketball to rollerblading to snowboarding. The sports DCOM is practically its own genre. The quality of these films is questionable, but that’s not what we’re debating today.

Here at The Athletic, we take sports very seriously, and simultaneously not seriously at all. So I assigned myself the backbreaking work of analyzing the most memorable DCOMs to determine which sports scenes were most authentic. What follows is a totally scientific ranking of movies, from least realistic to most realistic.

Full-Court Miracle (2003)

Director: Stuart Gillard Starring: Alex D. Linz, Richard T. Jones, Cassie Steele

Warmup: Middle school kids who play basketball for a Jewish academy recruit Lamont Carr, a former Virginia Cavaliers star whose pro career was derailed by injuries, to coach their team out of a slump.

There’s a lot of downright horrible basketball in this movie, some of which could be intentional because the Philadelphia Hebrew Academy Lions are supposed to suck, at least at the beginning. This fact is established right away as the film opens with the Lions, who haven’t won a game in two years, getting crushed by the Warriors, the best team in the league. One kid falls over with nobody around him. The protagonist, Alex “Schlotz” Schlotzky, supposedly the Lions’ best player, is triple-teamed and takes an awful shot instead of passing.

In the park one day, Schlotz enlists an initially reluctant Lamont to give his team some pointers. Lamont eventually gets hired as the coach, and over the next few weeks or months (it’s unclear how much time passes), the Lions rapidly improve just in time for a big city tournament. It’s not clear exactly how, because in practice we never see Lamont giving advice on mechanics, choosing instead to spout strange metaphors about how each player is a different body part.

After playing a pickup game in the park with Jerome Williams — yes, that’s really him in the movie — Lamont gets signed to a 10-day contract with the 76ers and leaves the Lions to fend for themselves in the tourney. Somehow they still make it to the finals to face the Warriors. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the pregame on-court dance routine set to a hip-hop song called “Spin ‘Ya Like A Dreidel.” Schlotz makes a big deal about how the Lions are going to turn defense into offense with a full-court press, and while we do see a few steals and transition buckets, there are quite a few sequences in which absolutely no one is guarding the Warriors’ ballhandler. Rick Pitino would be furious.

Once down by 18 points, the Lions rally to cut the deficit to 10 with five minutes to play. Here’s where the extended Hanukkah metaphor comes in. A storm knocks out the gym lights and the generator only has enough fuel to last 2:44. The Warriors, knowing that the game will end by default when the fuel runs out, stall by calling timeout. The referees don’t seem perturbed that this timeout is lasting nearly three minutes, but the Lions are saved when the lights miraculously stay on even after the fuel runs out. They battle back to win on an unlikely hook shot that dramatically rolls in as time expires and the lights finally go out.

Accuracy rating: 2/5

Double Teamed (2002)

Director: Mike Schondeck Starring: Poppi Monroe, Annie McElwain

Warmup: Based on the true story of former WNBA players Heather and Heidi Burge, twin sisters transfer high schools hoping to attract attention and college volleyball scholarships. They join the basketball team to stay in shape and discover a love and talent for the sport.

The sports connection: Not 10 minutes into the movie, we already have a sense of how out-of-touch this is about to get. At Heather and Heidi’s volleyball practice, a coach approaches their dad and tells him he should start thinking about getting the girls more exposure for college scouts. Papa Burge seems floored at the concept of scholarships. If his daughters are really that good, how is he just finding out about this? The coach tells him, “Scouts can’t talk to kids until they’re seniors anyway. Nobody does that. It would be against the rules.” Right …

Anyway, Papa Burge wises up after that and moves Heather and Heidi to Palos Verdes High, where they are recruited to the basketball team for basically no reason other than that they are very tall. Almost immediately, they are two of the best players on the team. There are actually quite a lot of basketball scenes in this movie, and most are passable.

My main issue is with the final scene. It’s the championship game. Palos Verdes is down by one with seven seconds left and will inbound the ball out of a timeout for one last play. Heather, who has been sidelined the entire game with a sprained ankle, decides now is the time to ditch her crutches and hobble out to save the day. The coach, for some reason, agrees that putting in an injured player on the most important play is a good idea. In the huddle, he doesn’t even draw up a play. The instruction is basically: Get the ball to Heather, who will pass it or shoot it. Cool.

Heather gets the ball about four feet behind the 3-point line, completely open. She wastes what feels like at least 10 seconds doing this weird thing where she dances on her heels and aggressively jabs the ball from side to side like she’s in an aerobics class. Everyone is yelling at her to do something. By now a defender is in her face, so Heather jab-steps and dribbles into the paint. She’s only a few feet from the basket but instead of taking a shot and trying to draw a foul, she whips a wildly off-target, behind-the-back pass to the corner. Heidi barely saves the ball from going out of bounds and launches a shot (somehow there are still 0.7 seconds on the clock). Swish, boom, ballgame. Sorry, I’m just not buying it.

Accuracy rating: 2.5/5

The Luck of the Irish (2001)

Director: Paul Hoen Starring: Ryan Merriman, Timothy Omundson, Henry Gibson

Warmup: High school basketball player Kyle, who has coasted by on luck his entire life, finds out he’s part leprechaun and must battle an evil leprechaun for a coin to save his family’s luck.

The sports connection: The first time we see Kyle playing basketball is in the state quarterfinals, when his team is down one point with three seconds left. The other team attempts a pass, but Kyle dives in front and bats the ball with his forearm. It’s a perfect swish for the game-winner. Granted, he still has his magical lucky coin at this point, but c’mon! Once Kyle has his coin stolen by evil leprechaun Seamus, however, he can’t even make 10 free throws in practice. In the semifinal game he gets blocked left and right, shoots airballs and even gets whacked by a pass on the back of his head. Much more realistic, if you ask me.

As part of a bet Kyle makes with Seamus to get his luck back, the two compete in a series of sports traditionally included in the Tailteann Games of Gaelic Ireland: hurling, boulder throwing, wheel rolling, rugby, wrestling and spear throwing. The final event is preceded by Kyle uttering what is quite possibly one of the best movie lines ever written: “In America we don’t believe in kings. We believe in baseball.” He then nails his spear throw, tying the competition and forcing a basketball game to settle the bet.

Kyle and his friend/teammate Russell run into the gym to find the championship game tied at 62 with three minutes left. Their coach decides to let two guys who missed nearly the entire game play anyway. His only words of advice are, “Get the lead and keep it.” Great game plan, Coach. And there’s some weird leprechaun magic going on where no one besides Russell, Kyle and his family can see that Seamus is playing for the opposing team and that Kyle’s grandfather is perched on top of the backboard.

I can safely say this is the only basketball montage I’ve ever seen set to Irish jig music. Despite no coaching and the fact that Kyle and Russell keep pausing during the game to talk to the old man above the hoop, it’s a close game. There’s a slow-motion finger roll and a few layups before Russell, who is about a foot shorter than anyone else on the team, gets a tip-in to tie it at 70. Hmm. With six seconds remaining, the score is again tied, at 74. Kyle dives to deflect a pass to his teammate, then calls for the ball back with two seconds to go. Instead of shooting, he sends a bounce pass to Russell just outside the paint for the game-winning layup. That’s probably the smartest basketball play he has ever made.

Accuracy rating: 3/5

Brink! (1998)

Director: Greg Beeman Starring: Erik von Detten, Sam Horrigan, Christina Vidal

Warmup: Drawn in by visions of fame and the hope of alleviating his family’s financial troubles, Andy “Brink” Brinker leaves his “just for fun” inline skating crew to join a sponsored team.

The sports connection: The film is set in Los Angeles near Venice Beach, and the SoCal skater vibe is bang on. Brink exudes a happy-go-lucky, ‘sup dude energy and spends most of his time inline skating in a pit by the beach with his three best friends. They call themselves soul skaters, an inside-baseball term used by those who shun sponsorships in favor of skating for fun. That changes when Brink finds out his family needs money, so he secretly signs with Team X-Bladz to compete in an upcoming invitational. What kind of sponsor signs a minor without written parental consent to a contract? Apparently X-Bladz does.

The invitational determines who qualifies for the national championships, and with Brink’s help Team X-Bladz wins to secure a spot. As a reward, the X-Bladz manager just hands each skater $200. Again, this arrangement does not feel particularly above-board. Brink’s friends find out he betrayed them for X-Bladz and are understandably pissed, because he was supposed to compete with them in the upcoming championships. How did the soul skaters, a ragtag group of amateurs, even qualify for the championships without competing in the invitational? This question is never answered.

Brink reconciles with his friends and decides to compete with them in the championships, which are broadcast on ESPN and supposedly feature the nation’s top 10 teams. Again, how did they qualify? We’ll never know. The competition is split into three events: street, vert and downhill. Street and vert scores for individuals on each team are added together to determine the top two teams, and skaters from those two go head-to-head in the downhill. Of course, it comes down to Brink and Val, the bully leader of the X-Bladz. Val tries to take advantage of Brink by pretending to be hurt and then pulling him down to take the lead, but Brink takes a shortcut through an alley and crosses the finish line first. Val is disqualified for attempting to sabotage Brink, while Brink is somehow not disqualified for going off-course. Go figure.

While the inline skating in this movie was very realistic, the muddled storylines leading up to the championships and the sketchy circumstances of Brink’s final victory keep it from achieving a higher accuracy rating.

Accuracy rating: 3.7/5

Alley Cats Strike (2000)

Director: Rod Daniel Starring: Alex Schmid, Robert Ri’chard, Kaley Cuoco

Warmup: A group of bowling-loving misfits are forced to bowl as the tiebreaker in an athletics contest against a rival school.

The sports connection: This film aims to dispel the assumption that bowling is boring and/or easy compared with other sports. Todd is the mayor’s son and West Appleton’s star athlete, leading the school to victory in baseball, basketball and track, among other things. But when Todd is forced to join the bowling club run by Alex and his friends, he stinks. His roll is completely off-balance, he incorrectly prioritizes speed over technique and he doesn’t understand the scoring, foolishly bragging that we will definitely bowl a 100.

Alex, whose father owns the bowling alley, tries to explain the scoring to Todd in baseball terms. “Think baseball, three strikes. A spare is 10 plus the next ball you roll, so if I said, ‘Hey, you got a spare ball, strike three, spare two, that’s how come 100’s not too special. Got it?’ ” Todd does not get it, but he’s still cocky. He ignores Elisa when she tries to tell him the ball will follow where his thumb is pointing, and he continues to insist he’ll carry the team to victory despite being the least experienced. On the other hand, Alex, Elisa, Ken and Delia are so invested that they practice on a lane that is rigged to set up a 7-10 split. Todd vastly improves with practice, but still can’t master the 7-10 split.

The competition against East Appleton is a four-game format (one game per person) in which the highest total wins. Each team is allowed one substitution, which is mentioned about 20 times in case you aren’t sure this will be important later. East Appleton is a well-oiled machine, probably because they hired pro bowler Whipsaw McGraw, one of the best character names in DCOM history, as its coach. Alex, Ken and Elisa perform well under pressure and put West Appleton in position to win by the end of Todd’s game. All he needs is a spare on his final frame, but faced with a 7-10 split, he taps physics nerd Delia to sub in for him.

Even though they’re in an indoor bowling alley, Delia licks her finger and checks for wind. She gets the ball spinning around her finger and gently nudges it forward and down the lane, where it rotates at a snail’s pace toward the pins as tension builds. Nearly two minutes elapse before the ball finally picks up the spare. I have my doubts about this technique, and The Athletic’s own Nicole Auerbach says she has attempted it with no such luck. The drama was incredible, but was it necessary to compromise the integrity of the sport?

Accuracy rating: 4/5

Going to the Mat (2004)

Director: Stuart Gillard Starring: Andrew Lawrence, Alessandra Torresani, Khloe Thomas

Warmup: Jace Newfield, a blind teen whose family has just moved from New York to Utah, tries out for the wrestling team to fit in.

The sports connection: The film does a great job establishing how visually impaired people are still capable of participating in sports. Jace is an extremely talented musician, and he’s able to play baseball by using the sound of the mitt as a target. He plays basketball with a bounce-pass-only rule, using a beeping backboard to locate the rim. When his new friend Fly first stumbles upon Jace shooting hoops, he can’t tell Jace is blind.

So when Jace decides to join the wrestling team, it doesn’t sound all that far-fetched. Visually impaired competitors, who thrive off of heightened senses of hearing and touch, begin matches in full-contact position so opponents can’t catch them off guard from the jump. Jace struggles at first, but it has more to do with the mechanics of wrestling than the fact he’s blind. We see other wrestlers executing moves like the fat man’s roll, fireman’s carry and leg sweeps — moves that take not just strength, but balance and fluid movement. There’s a sweet scene where Mary Beth, the coach’s daughter, teaches Jace to dance in order to underscore this point.

The film also depicts the lengths some wrestlers will go to in order to make weight. John, the team’s star who initially bullies Jace, started out wrestling in the 152-pound weight class. Two days before a meet, however, he weighs 158 and works out like crazy to drop six pounds in 48 hours. The coach decides that type of extreme dieting is unsafe and instead bumps John up a weight class to 160. But that means Jace, who was at 145, moves up to 152 to wrestle the defending state champion, T-Rex Turner. Wrestling matches contain three two-minute periods in which participants score points with certain moves, and match scores help determine the team score. Jace doesn’t need to beat T-Rex to get his school a win; he just needs to avoid getting pinned. After getting thrown around for the first two periods and injuring his shoulder, Jace pins T-Rex in the third, securing victory for the school and solidifying Jace’s standing as an accomplished wrestler.

Accuracy rating: 4.2/5

Motocrossed (2001)

Director: Steve Boyum Starring: Alana Austin, Riley Smith, Timothy Carhart, Mary-Margaret Humes

Warmup: A teenager named Andrea impersonates her injured twin brother, Andrew, in a motocross race in order to land a corporate sponsorship.

The sports connection: First of all, Andrea and Andrew’s family has a motocross track snaking around their property. I get that the father runs his own racing company, but that seems a little extreme. After Andrew injures his leg while the twins are racing, Andrea goes behind her dad’s back to take his place in the Cup while disguising herself as a boy and going by “Andi.” When another rider notices and questions her green nail polish, Andi responds that it cuts down on vibration from the handlebars and helps reduce arm pump — a common problem among motocross riders caused by restricted blood vessels in the forearms.

From arm pump to the different race classes, the film’s motocross terminology is pretty spot-on. Andi races in the 125 class while love interest Dean is a 250 rider, designations based on the engine size of their bikes. There’s a lot of technical lingo courtesy of the the twins’ little brother, Jason, who is a genius mechanic. The series is three weeks long, which means there are multiple races in which riders accumulate points before a champion is crowned in each class. The racing action scenes are legit, right down to the protective gear and the parents holding up messages on white boards as riders zoom past.

Andi runs into some bad luck in her first race when her bike gets stuck in the starting gate and comes in last while being ridiculed by other riders as a “lapper.” She improves with some help from Dean, but then her dad replaces her with René Cartier, a douchey rider from France. After Cartier is exposed as a cheat and a massive jerk, Andi’s dad fires him and agrees to let her ride in the final race. But there’s a problem: Andrew didn’t put a bunch of parts from the practice bike back in the race bike, and he is worried there isn’t time to switch them before the race. Enter genius mechanic brother, who manages to do a full top-end rebuild just in time. (How much time is never specified, so I have no idea if this was actually an incredible feat.)

Andi beats Cartier to win the Cup after he eats dirt on the final turn. Angry, he exposes Andi as a girl to try and revoke her title, but it’s revealed that the rulebook doesn’t prohibit girls from competing. In other words, all that deception was for nothing, but the best rider still won and landed the sponsorship.

Accuracy rating: 4.5/5

Miracle in Lane 2 (2000)

Director: Greg Beeman Starring: Frankie Muniz, Rick Rossovich, Molly Hagan

Warmup: Based on the true story of Justin Yoder, a wheelchair-bound kid begins racing in the Soap Box Derby as a competitive outlet.

The sports connection: Justin, a 12-year-old with spina bifida, yearns to win a trophy like his athletic older brother. Sports such as baseball are a no-go because of his disability, but Justin idolizes racer Bobby Wade and one day discovers an old soapbox racer in his neighbor Vic’s shed. Vic’s daughter used to race soapboxes, and he helps introduce the Yoder family to the sport. Most soapbox cars have foot brakes, but Justin’s dad gets the idea to build a car with a hand brake for Justin to use.

The key rule of soapbox racing is that the total weight of the car plus the driver must equal 250 pounds, Vic explains, so it’s advantageous to have a smaller driver. Much of the strategy comes down to the distribution of metal weights inside the car, but the driver is responsible for steering. Too much steering can decrease the car’s speed, so the driver has to learn to assess the course for rough spots and grade. Before one race, Justin and his dad test the course by dumping a bucket of Ping-Pong balls on the road to determine which lane is the fastest.

Justin picks up speed through the soapbox racing world and makes it to nationals. But the snooping father of a competitor tips off race organizers about Justin’s hand brake, which is apparently against regulation. Did it never occur to anyone that the kid in the wheelchair couldn’t have been operating a foot brake? Feels like this should have been addressed sooner. Luckily, Justin’s brother rounds up reporters and pressures the board to let Justin race. He races, he wins, and the hand brake thereafter comes to be known as the Justin Brake.

Accuracy rating: 4.8/5