A Riddle , For Father's Day.

Armored scales never a-clinking
never breathing always drinking

My color of skin
the same as that within
that which has no hinge,
nor key or lid
yet inside golden treasure hid

I come not from
not random chemical
but like a comet to the earth
Knowing well that when I was born
I would need to feed

And one day
I will be saved
from darkness
and basketball

And live to retire
in a clear plastic bowl

For the day at last I abandon my Goal
My goal will be achieved.

What Am I?