World Cup 70 - RP Thread

by **Star United States** » Sat Nov 22, 2014 6:21 pm

The Rise and Fall of the Starian Governments

Part I: The Rising
Part II: The Rising Cont.
Part III: Chaos In Golden City and Blu
Part IV: The Alarmed Nation
Part V: The Crumbling Federal Government
Part VI: A Little Too Quiet... or Not.
Part VII: A Nation Falling Into Pieces
Part VIII: Western Star United States
Part IX: The Speech
The Northern Rebellion

Part XI:
The First Fall

The Federal Republic of Star United States has ceased to exist, since today. President Barren was killed at his residence, and gunfire broke out through the streets of City of Star. This group has been identified at the communist-based society, known as the City-State of Blu. The military of Blu managed to break through Starian forces and imposed borders surreptitiously, and marched towards the capital, City of Star. They adroitly acted and managed to infiltrate and murder President Barren. They then attacked the city, and many Starian civilians died in the process, the number has not even been released.

The Federal Government failed, and the Communist Government of Blu took over. Their leader, Dictator Roy Caren, as taken possession over the mainland of Star United States and has discarded the islands of the country, where many Starian have fled.

This was noticed when the Blun Communist State of Star United States, official titled, rose their flag at the Star Square in City of Star. The Communist Government has divided the people of Star United States into two social classes: Elite, Slaves. Elite being all of those who favor the government. Those who got to escape to the islands are safe, opposed to those unable to do so.

The communists have been planing this since their foundations. The take-over was so perfectly planned, and the flag was ready to go. The black stands for their belief, communism. The yellow stands for glory, referring to gold. The red refers to the blood that had t be spilled to accomplish their goals.

They have eliminated the Starian currency, the Starlite, and have abolished the use of money, and has issued "money cards" to the elite, as the so called slaves received nothing. They have prohibited the entranced into the country by anyone. There motto is now,"Never Shall We Forget," instead of, "With Liberty, We Stand." They took away the official languages of Spanish, and Portuguese, and have left English as the only one. The have disposed the Panda as the official animal of the country, as well as the religion. They managed to take away everything the Federal Republic took years to build. The newly installed government order to bombing of Federal Building across the country, and has not attack the opposing City-States but has stationed their militates along the border.

They are disliked by the majority of Starians, who are no longer to be called Starians by law.

Part XI: World Cup Swirl

Federal Republic of Star United States
National Sports Federation
Official Correspondence
To: Whom It May Concern
Subject: Movement

To whom it may concern:

Sadly, the Federal Republic of Star United States is no more. Now its the Blun Communist State of Star United States, who have deprived that nation from foreign visitors. As, I have said, safety is our number one concern, and we have made a decision to transfer all matches to the Bay Stadium at Stary Bay at the Star United States Islands.

ALL MATCHES AT HOME FOR STAR UNITED STATES WILL BE AT THE BAY STADIUM, STAR UNITED STATES ISLANDS.

I can assure you that the islands are safe, the new government has no interest. Anyway, learn Portuguese, as it's the native language of the islands.

Até!
Thank you, and God bless,

Santiago Peres
Director of the National Sports Federation of Star United States

World Cup 70 Qualifiers
November 21, 2014
Bears Armed 4 : 2 Star United States
World Cup 70 - Qualifiers
Unknown

Scorers:
Bears Armed - 4
41', 64'  Shiirrie Arrogh
45+1, 73' (p.) Marra SunDaughter

Star United States - 2
13' Garrison
89' Gasteiz

by **Nephara** » Sat Nov 22, 2014 7:25 pm

Auburn Bywater had started to take notes. It was a habit she'd picked up from Tess Riether, the terse, professional U-21 manager who liked to feel control over every aspect of a team. But at least Auburn had a better pen. At least it was with a smooth, wide tip that she was writing 'Fire Ballard into the sun'.
"Sickening," muttered Jess Mortlock. "Well, I guess that gives them an edge in the race for sixth..."
"We'll recover from this, guv'nor. There's always a slip somewhere. We just got it out of the way early, that's all."
That's what we thought last qualifiers. "... Yeah. Yeah, maybe. C'mon, let's go back under."

Logan Murdoch was still trying to put the pieces together the next day.
The half-Licentian was a jocular sort, fond of conversation, coffee and fresh air. He could find all three at the Fish Scale, a cafe conveniently a short walk away from the Sabrefell flat he was renting. ... And hell, renting to live in Sabrefell felt strange in the first place. He'd grown up here, played the first stages of his career here. He liked living in the Islandstates well enough, but... this was home, to him. And so was the Fish Scale, with its breezy outdoor tables and paralytically strong coffee.
He lived a fair way out back east, too - most of the team who'd had to rent had taken flats nearer the actual training ground, but Logan had grown up in these parts. He wasn't about to stop.
This gave him the chance to be noticed, too. Not in the gushing celebrity sense. But he was a local. He'd broken through the Chariots, come good, been bought for eleven million pounds to go abroad and won caps for the national team, but christ, he was still Logan. The butcher could remember him as the lanky kid who caught him out putting his finger on the scale, for christ's sake.
This was his place. So he hadn't expected company.
The woman who walked in was ... shabby, to put it kindly. A skinny little thing in cheap glasses, with some rather poorly-applied makeup. Stage makeup, even.
Logan shrugged and went back to his coffee. Flicked through the paper - the sports section. Steadfastly ignoring the article on the match... apparently plans were being forwarded to make a professional ice hockey league in Nephara. Strange.
The skinny woman had taken her coffee and was walking off. And... glanced nervously towards Logan?
Logan glanced up from his paper, back into her eyes.
Come to think of it...
"Stocki... ?"
The woman winced, and sidled over. "Uhh... hey, Logan. Didn't expect to see you here. ... Please don't use my surname, trying to stay under the radar."
"Alright, Cath... take a seat, if you want."
Reluctantly, Catheline did, and took off the glasses. She looked at them rather gloomily before setting them down. "Wasn't much of a disguise, I guess."
Logan shrugged, and set down the paper. "It's fine. I see you every day, and it took me a while to notice. ... What's with the makeup?"
Catheline winced again. "More just trying to mask my face. First time I ever used the stuff."
"Yeah, well, it showed. I could give you some pointers, if you needed."
A stare, as if to ask, 'really? You?'
"I did a lot of drama productions back in school. You pick shit up. C'mon, drink your coffee."
She took a sip. "Sorry. Guess it was stupid to try and-"
"Cathy. It's fine. I use this place to get away from it all, too - just, you know. As a local, not with makeup." Even I need it, and I don't have your cocktail of mental issues, he couldn't help but think, and then felt bad for thinking it.
"You grew up here?"
"Roughly, yeah. I lived more south, but... I still know all of Violence like the back of my hand, and the surrounding suburbs pretty well, too."
A wry chuckle. "I suppose. I can't really go back home and be accepted."
"Why's that?" asked Logan, drinking more of his exceptionally short black.
"Shoplifted from too many people."
It took a lot of effort not to sputter coffee straight into Catheline's face. With great resolve, Logan swallowed. "... Ah, yeah," he said weakly. "That'd do it."
"... Sorry, I guess I made things awkward again." Catheline sighed. "I'm trying to get better about that. Not putting people off. Just... you never can escape your past, you know? Like it or not."
"It's fine. I don't mind."
There was silence, for about a minute. Logan continued leafing through his paper.
"It's nice here," said Catheline abruptly.
"Hm?"
"Just... talking. Drinking. Not worrying about our jobs."
Logan smoothly leafed to another section of the sports. "So this is just your job?"
"We're professionals. I went into football because I was good at it and I could be paid for it. That's as simple as it was."
"Don't you... enjoy it? At all?"
Catheline sighed. "Yeah. It's nice. But just because I'm good at it. I loved street football because I was better than the rest. I'd probably've enjoyed school if I was much use at that, but. Well. ... To tell the truth, I..."
Another pause.
"Anyway. That doesn't matter now. Thanks for your time, but I should head back."
"It's alright. You should come by here more often."
"Yeah... just..."
The clear, gaping pause left by something unsaid.
"... I might. We'll see. See you at training."
"Yeah, alright. See you."
And as abruptly as she'd arrived, she was gone. Leaving Logan to think, and drink, and ultimately, to pick up the bill. Looks like some instincts stick with you for life...

by **Furellum** » Sat Nov 22, 2014 8:02 pm

Mihails Gavrilovic took two large leaps, bouncing out of goal, and punted the ball down field. Like always, Gavrilovic had a seemingly effortless energy. They'd ben training for over an hour, but the Gelada baboon showed no sign of tiring. Ragnar Asbjorn and Marian Constantin, the two massive centre backs, chosen for their size and brawn rather than finesses, were beginning to show the signs of fatigue. *peep!* "Alright guys, take five minutes." yelled Zoric, the assistant coach.

Ragnar threw himself down on the bench, exhausted. Taking a bottle of water, the Polar Bear downed half of it in one gulp. "I am so beat right right now." he growled. Marian agreed, while half collapsing on the ground. Ragnar took a couple of deep breaths, then asked him, "Hey Marian, can I ask for some advice?"
The big elk nodded. "What's up?"
Ragnar replied, "I've been offered a job. Playing football, professionally like. Overseas."
"Wow, really? Where?"
"Super Llamaland."
"Where Coach Bogdan went, hey? Think he had anything to do with it?"
"I don't know. But what do you think I should do?"
Marian looked up at his friend. "Well, why wouldn't you take it?"
"I'm worried about my dad. He never wanted me to be a footballer. He doesn't see the point. Want's me to stay at the forge."
"Well, why will you playing in Super Llamaland be any different from playing for the National Team?"
"What, one brief campaign every few years? When I can come home to see him at any time? It will be completely different."
"Ok, point taking. Any other reasons?"

Ragnar paused for a second, looking around. Dropping his voce to a whisper, he replied. "What of the party won't let me play for the national team anymore. You know what its like, they ditch anyone who doesn't toe the party line. If I live overseas, I'm worried they won't let me back in. I mean, look at Sorin."
Marian shook his antlered head, and leant forward to whisper back. "Well, Sorin was different. He was human, after all, and from what I gather not only was he a Maalvian noble his brother was a goddamn Maalvian spy. Where as you are just a blacksmith's son."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right. You can never quite tell with these Corvidae though. Sometimes I wish that every thing had stayed the same, that they'd never come to power."
"I'm not the elk you need to complain too." said Marian. "That's Mikhail."
Ragnar looked over at the reserve goalkeeper, Mikhail Nicolescu, who was limbering up in goal. "What's Mikhail got to with anything?" he asked.
Marian leaned even closer. "You know all the political upheaval that swept the Corvidae into power?"
Ragnar nodded, still confused. "Yeah."
Marian jerked his hoof in Mikhail's direction. "He started it."

Last.fm · by **Cosumar** » Sat Nov 22, 2014 8:20 pm

Rikki Varshney collapsed into his seat and immediately hit the recline button.

He let out a satisfied sigh as felt the knots of tension in his back loosen. The extra Chrons for his own private compartment on the monorail were certainly worth it, he thought. He could lounge as much as he goddamn pleased without having to discreetly recline it inch by inch to avoid arousing the attention of a passenger behind him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Kennerly and I’m your chief attendant for today's non-stop service from Crawford City to Kaldukosic on the Cosumar Monorail Hyperloop. Our journey will be approximately 2100 miles, with an estimated arrival time at the East Gormun Platform in Kaldukosic in just under 3 hours. At this time, make sure your seat belt is correctly fastened. Staff will begin making rounds with refreshments once our top speed of 720 miles per hour has been reached. Thank you, and enjoy the ride.”

Rikki tapped the touch screen control panel on his armrest and a small Hologram Television implanted on the ceiling whirred into action. A few moments later, a 3-D image of a Horizon News Network anchor materialized in front of Varshney.

"...conflict in Esportiva has escalated to new heights. According to our reporter stationed in Trexocia, the 36th Guerrilla Assassins unit of Gloriax invaded Gregoryisgodistan in what appears to be a pre-emptive measure out of fear of being invaded themselves. Lord Almighty Gregory responded aggressively, sending a human blitzkrieg into Gloriax. Early casualty estimates are already in the tens of thousands. Our own King James II has condemned the actions of both nations, declaring that Cosumar intends to contribute to an international peacekeeping effort..."

Varshney shook his head as he felt the monorail's engines lurch into action beneath him. He was grateful to live in a peaceful region like Atlantian Oceania, far far away from the reaches of those lunatics in Gregoryisgodistan. With a tap of the touch screen, he switched the channel to CSBN (Cosumar Sports Broadcasting Network). The news anchor's giant, shiny face disappeared and was replaced by a full-color hologram of a football match.

Finally, something he actually wanted to see in 3D.

"...and now we bring you the highlights from around World Cup 70 Qualifying! In Group 1, The Royal Kingdom of Quebec and Yttribia battled to a 3-3 draw..."

Varshney's phone buzzed, breaking his attention from the hologram. It was just a stupid alert from his Football Manager app, but his eyes lingered on the lock screen for several seconds. It was his favorite photograph of his parents and elder brother. It had been over 30 years since he learned of their fatal car crash just minutes before a World Cup Qualifying match against Ursine Northlands. Even now, as a 50-something year old man, not a day went by where he didn't think of them. Varshney forced himself to gaze at their image, memorizing every minute detail, for fear they might disappear from his memory entirely if he didn't. He could no longer truly remember the sound of his brother's voice or the smell of his mother's perfume as he once could, their image on his lock screen was all he had left.

Varshney's head popped back up to the Holo-TV when he heard his own former team mentioned.

"Farris Crowley and his Cosumar Dragons lost 4-3 to Super-Llamaland in their World Cup 70 debut. Cosumar led 3-1 at halftime but surrendered three goals in the final 25 minutes. Seven different players scored goals in this match, let's take a look!"

"Here we are, ten minutes into the game. That's Engström, picking out Sur Arora in the box. Arora's shot is stopped, but Cassandra City star Ace Newman is there for the easy put-back! 1-0 towards the Dragons, for Cosumar's first goal of this cycle. Three minutes later, Arora makes up for his earlier miss with this spectacular goal. Just take a look at that brilliant maneuver! That's Arora's 80th goal for Cosumar, pulling him within six of the Dragons' all-time leading scorer Rikki Varshney! Now let's see it from another angle..."

Varshney never quite got used to it. The celebrity. Seeing yourself and hearing your name everywhere. Even now, as a longtime member of the World Cup Hall of Fame and Cosumarite legend, he still looks up in surprise every time he's mentioned. Only now, it wasn't one of his famous goals being shown on the Holo-TV, but one of his apprentice Sur Arora's.

The apprentice who is now just 7 goals away from eclipsing his master's record.

"What a beauty," Varshney thought to himself as the slow-motion replay of the goal flashed all around him. He was legitimately happy for Sur, he really was. He had been something of a mentor to the lad back when he was a budding talent, and still spoke to him every now and then. As much as he prided himself on being Cosumar's all-time leading scorer, he knew the time to pass on the torch had nearly arrived, and that it is healthy for Cosumarite soccer to have a new champion.

As CSBN moved on to the highlights of the Buyan-Estope match, Varshney turned off the Holo-TV and dialed up Mr. Arora. After several cycles of ringing, Sur finally answered.

"I was going to ignore the call until I saw your name on the ID. Most people know better than to call me on a Matchday."

Rikki chuckled. Sur always did have that cheeky sense of humor.

"I think you were just scared that if you didn't answer I'd make you run more laps like old times."

"Hey, those training sessions were traumatic and not to be made light of! They still haunt me to this day."

Rikki smirked again. He knew Sur appreciated that he demanded the most of out him early in his career. It's what helped him become the prolific scorer he is today.

"Good. They were intended to. Anyways, I just saw your 80th international goal on CSBN and figured congratulations were in order. One of your finest, I'd say."

"Why don't you come congratulate me in person? You know our first home match of Qualifying is tonight, right? Dracum. You gonna be there?"

"Wouldn't miss it. I'm on the Hyperloop to Kaldukosic as we speak. Bloody flash flood warnings in Crawford delayed departure by a couple hours, but I still hope to be in my cozy little suite well before kick off."

"Good to hear. You're a bona-fide talisman! Cosumar always seems to fare better when the great Rikki Varshney is there, whether on the pitch or in a 'cozy little suite'."

"I do what I can, I do what I can. Besides, you'll probably be the new leading goal-scorer by the end of Qualifying. You can be the new talisman."

"Don't jinx me, Rikki. Seven goals isn't a given, especially for someone with my, erm, recent injury history."

"What are you talking about? The record is yours. And I'm glad of it. You're a better footballer than I ever was."

After a few seconds of silence, Sur Arora finally responded.

"I've never told you this, but I should have a long time ago. I really appreciate your confidence in me and your guidance over the years. I wouldn't be about to break your own record without you, old man!

"That's the spirit."

"But you know what's the one thing I'm afraid of?"

"What's that?"

"Being the best Cosumarite player to never qualify for the World Cup. Scoring a shitload of goals ultimately means nothing if those goals didn't help my team and my country win."

With that, Sur Arora abruptly hung up the phone. Rikki understood his friend's feelings. At 32 years old, this might be Arora's final World Cup in top form or as a starter. He might surpass Varshney's goal tally, but unless he achieves some meaningful success in the World Cup.......he would still pale in comparison to Varshney in the pantheon of Cosumarite greats.

Rikki put his phone back in his pocket, and decided to nap through the rest of the monorail ride. In a couple hours, he would wake up in Kaldukosic and make his way to Leviathan Arena, where he would watch his friend Sur Arora go for three points against unranked Dracum.

by **Super-Llamaland** » Sat Nov 22, 2014 8:37 pm

The flight to Dracum departed at noon and with one and a half hours to go, Sebastian Inriquéz wasn't there.

Kristopher shook his head. It sounded like something Sebastian would do - he wasn't lazily coasting on talent, his heart was in the right place. It was just that sometimes he wouldn't be paying attention, and, well, this would happen. Two stints playing for the Di Bradini Cup team hadn't really helped, it was just who he was.

And, he reflected, if he missed the flight, he would be screwed indeed. was in both senses, he thought.

He woke up.

The sky was uncomfortably light, sun streaming through his window. Sebastian sat up abruptly, blinking, and on a whim glanced at the clock...

10:16, it flashed.

Sebastian Inriquéz stared at it, incredulous, until it flickered to 10:17 and he had no choice to believe. The flight to Dracum left at noon, and Dracum was hardly at the junction of a few airlines like Quebec or Ceni. No, Dracum was a bit out of the way, not in any of the major regions. In fact, Sebastian realized slowly as his trembling hand, acting almost without his impulse at all, looked up the next flight, the next flight was after the Dracum game.

Christ.

Sebastian lived by himself now - he was twenty-one and foolish, and renting a house in your own hometown was exactly the sort of thing someone twenty-one, foolish, and fiendishly rich would do.

But now, the move didn't seem so smart. The airport was an away without traffic. He'd have to do something right now.

Breakfast could be had on the way. He grabbed his phone and suitcase, dressed hastily, decided upon one last double-check to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind. Two minutes later, he was speeding down the streets of New Llama, cursing in one profane stream of panic on the way.

His phone rung twenty times in the first thirty minutes. He couldn't bother to check the texts, although from the few voice messages he got he knew they weren't pleasant, probably just a thick bovine accent with a newfound taste for Inriquéz's blood. So he ignored the phone, and, after a while, switched it off.

He was on the outskirts of the airport when the traffic hit.

The cars seemed to be arranged in a careful blockade, the result of some military mastermind's thoughts. Sebastian took a single glance and his heart sank. With no traffic, he would've been five minutes away. With traffic, he had an hour to drive. And the plane was leaving in forty-five minutes. Only one solution then - that was to run like heck, abandoning his hundred-thousand-dollar car, and hope he made it.

As if in a dream, which he couldn't count out, he slowly parked the car on the side curb, tried to memorize where it was, and then took off in the direction of the airport. His breath started to hurt as he sprinted, but he was strong from his footballing career and the pain didn't in the least bit threaten him. He was closer and closer, he knew. If he hurried, he could add twenty minutes-

That was when he felt the agonizing blow to his back, and he was rolling, falling down what seemed an infinite abyss, and a sweet, sickly scent filled his nose and his head had a bag slipped over it and all went black and red.

by **Kazamatsuri** » Sat Nov 22, 2014 8:42 pm

The match hadn't been a good one.

The media had been all too eager to get onto the team's case; Kira for not doing as well as she could have in linking up the midfield and the attack, Nishio for being virtually non-existent in the first half; heck, even Mad Dash copped some blame for his tactics, which the press thought he'd got spectacularly wrong.

As a result, the atmosphere in the Kazamatsurian camp was a few degrees above absolute zero when the next training session rolled around. Needless to say, the team, as well as the staff in general, weren't too happy with their own shortcomings. After the match against Hicana, Mad Dash had called an emergency meeting (not that it was an emergency in the strictest sense) and went through every second of the match footage with his staff, identifying flaws and coming up with innovative methods to repair their deficiencies.

It was thus that an enormous fibre board greeted the entire team upon their arrival to the Kizuna grounds, accompanied with the sight of a sober Mad Dash and a couple of smirking assistants, who always plastered a smirk on their faces whenever the team was for the high jump.

"Alright, foals, the staff and I spent the best part of yesterday night coming up with all this stuff. I'd say that we've been thorough; exhaustively so, but as it stands we don't have the time for a comprehensive review of every single player we have on the books. Rather, we're going to go through the most obvious flaws that we've detected in each and every one of you; simple, basic stuff like tracking back, tackling, and of course - after that debacle in front of goal last time out - finishing."

The team moaned. Mad Dash was clearly on one of what Shiina called his 'efficiency and performance' drives, and the team was more than aware that they were in for a long hard slog. The session, originally scheduled for recovery and conditioning work, had been co-opted into a rigorous set of endurance and tactical drills - hundred-meter dashes, set pieces, heading drills, the whole nine yards. By the time Mad Dash relented and released the players for the day, most of them could barely stand; let alone sprint for the comfy massage chairs in the gym.

"By Kirigiri, the gaffer sure worked us hard today."

A bitter voice cried out in anguish.

"You got that damn right, mate. I've never seen him in such a mood, and I was around when he made us run for ten miles every other day and called it 'an exercise in basic endurance'!"

"Think about it, though. The gaffer only wants what's best for us. Do you think he'd have gone to such great lengths to rectify the deficiencies in our individual games if he didn't really care for us?"

Every pair of eyes turned towards the source of the voice - it turned out to be the veteran and the most senior player in terms of age speaking. Shiina, who had, by common consensus, one of the worst players on the field against Hicana, spoke out in a ringing voice that reverberated around the small dressing room, his deep baritone layered with a measure of authority.

"Sure, we played like eleven sacks of shit out there. I think we all know that. We've really got to step our game up if we're to stand a chance of meeting our objectives for this cycle. Remember what that was?"

Slowly, the voices began to ring out, and soon enough the dressing room was echoing with the sounds of a multitude of pitches, combined into a single, united chorus.

"We're gonna reach the playoffs!"

"Damn right, and it's pretty much playoff or bust at this stage of the game. We're far too good to be languishing in mid-table, but that's exactly where we'll end up if we don't step it up a couple of notches soon. You understand?"

A smile appeared on the veteran's weather-beaten face.

"We'll go get 'em, tigers, and we'll put them to the sword with all the ruthlessness of a dragon! Ain't that right, team?"

A resounding roar echoed around the dressing room, almost deafening every single player in the immediate vicinity. But they cared not one iota, not one iota at all.

"Yeah, that's what we'll do!"

by **Felix** » Sat Nov 22, 2014 8:45 pm

WORLD CUP 70 - MATCHDAY 3 CUTOFF
EQUESTRIAN STATES & SAN JOSÉ GUAYABAL

Now with 20% more Uranium!

Results

by **Equestrian States** » Sat Nov 22, 2014 9:15 pm

It's still early, but a number of teams are already apparently desperate for points. Will they get them? You're about to find out.

MATCH DAY 3 RP CUTOFF FOR GROUPS 1-10

RESULTS

by **The Royal Kingdom of Quebec** » Sat Nov 22, 2014 9:51 pm

Love hurts- The story of Great War of Montreal: 1959-1978
Part One, of many
Part Two, of many more to come

Immediately Patrizio and El Whirlo greeted each other with a bear hug. It's been few months since they last saw each other in Montreal, for the Guayabalense has been out with his elderly mother and fiancee, a fine lady named Amelia Smith of Stanstead, in the small town he's been rigging his oil in with 500 of his contractors and gang members. He occasionally sent Patrizio a postcard of the beautiful Chaleur Bay, bu left few message on it to avoid too many details from being read by potential spies in the name of mailmen.

Then, five seconds after hugging each other like crazy, they moved and found themselves a seat. The restaurant, operating 23 hours a day, was into its quiet hours as chiseled El Whirlo and pale-skinned Patrizio found a seat.

Goldfarb's was an architectural standout of its own, with its diner style interior. Its columns and walls were painted in bright green and yellow with chrome siding, it had a stainless steel edged counter with rows of chrome counter stools, terrazzo floors, laminate wall covering, and a ceiling with indirect lighting coves. The chairs were bright red, orange and green. Walls were covered in photographs and autographs of all the celebrities, from its opening date in 1908, who visited the restaurant for a bite at its trademark smoked beef sandwich. Some of the most famous names were of following: legendary composer Charles Merton Regimbault, then-Major General Marius Jang(who would later serve in the Southern Rushmori War as Admiral to Quebecois Forces) and vaudeville quartet Jeremy and Rochs.

"So how's things been going for you, buddy?" El Whirlo asked, his characteristic smile still in its place. Being a man hustling his way through the rough job of a mafia boss and oil developer he rarely smiled, but when with his friends and family members he tried his best. Despite his profession, he was still a warm-hearted man and did his best to show that when necessary. And while he couldn't escape the fact that the execution of his love would often end up being awkwardly done, he did not care. He still did his best, just like a stoner who keeps coming back for methamphetamine.

"Well, life is usual. Tough and busy." Patrizio responded in his high-pitched voice, of describing his life like usual. His veins were showing everywhere, after hours of working and waiting, a sign of a long-time working class man.

El Whirlo laughed again, this time reaching for a bottle of Prahan Budvar. "Same here, but then what do we expect from us workers. One works in oilfields and underworld, while other toils his hours away in a delicatessen that he's destined to inherit, haha."

"C'est vrai. How's oil investments going?" Patrizio asked.

"It's going great. Other companies have started to do some survey works over our area though, so we had to kick them out through lawsuits and other shit."

"Heh," He laughed it off, before picking up his bottle of Semarlandic Jaglaager. The bottle itself was unique in its design, that it was designed after a statue designed by Quebecois sculptor Alfred Loewen, who thought of this unique mix of curves while smoking hookah with his friends. In the beginning it earned lots of criticism because of its oddity, but soon received love from everyone for its inability to break and ability not to freeze for more than a week, even when placed under harsh Nunavut weathers. While within the bottle there was opaque, brown liquid with extremely high alcohol rate for a beer, with its ends-dividing taste of bitterness. "It looks like they clearly wanted some shares off the oil rigs in Gaspecie."

"Obviously. What can you expect from those fat bastards up in Golden Square Mile?" El Whirlo laughed out, almost too proudly. "Money seeking bastards always trying to find their ways to get what they want. I ain't gonna have one about that, unless they can pay the locals with shares like how I do."

"Well at least they still pay me some good tips, haha." This was very much true, for the rich did give lots of rich tips here. $10 bills and $50 bills were often at handed out, with occasional hundred if they had felt that the service was adequate enough to deserve it.

They were that generous, something that only the rich in Montreal and Quebec City could do these days. The other rich were either too stingy like those in Kingston, too uneducated in such customs ala. Maritimers, or simply didn't have any of the diversity in such products that the southerners enjoyed (Winnipeg and most of isolated cities, St.John's included).

Immediately El Whirlo smiled at his friend's move to steer to the positive side of the story, as he sipped his bottle. He was the only one in his second town and current residence of New Carlisle who was that stinking rich, and not even he had such luck in broad range of restaurants he could love and choose from. "Heh. True that."

Then his face, out of sudden, darkened, as if he had seen something, as he looked into St. James street. Normally he'd be under watch by the others, especially by the old rich of Golden Square Mile and to lesser extent Westmount, so he made sure to check that no one was spying on him so that he could not go to jail the very next morning.

Fortunately, no one was out there, just like how the very definition of the street that served as a financial centre of Quebec was. St. James Street, despite being centre of Montreal's financial district, as well as hosting countless of major companies' Quebecois head offices and headquarters, were empty at this time of the day. The streets, covered by thick layers of maples and skyscrapers(by the 1930s standards) right behind, were empty and windy. Those bankers and businessmen, all dressed in their fancy suits, would be home by now, if not in Koreana or Canadiens games. Feeling secure with lack of anyone else watching, he drank a bit more, this time with St.Pascal. "I'm just here to tell you one thing," His voice changed, with signs of desperation added, as he spoke further with a bit of added drunkenness. "Be careful, for soon you will see why. I've heard rumours, rumours that may affect you more than I, or anyone else in this house, since Isabella is not here at the moment."

This immediately left Patrizio wondering about what he's referring to. Even though he's getting a bit of feeling about this, he wasn't as sure. Feeling thirsty, Patrizio took another sip. "It's about your life right now," El Whirlo said.

Patrizio's eyes, the brightest of green eyes anyone could possess, suddenly glowed, figuring out on whom he was referring to. "Is it about Angela?" He asked.

"Yes."

It was then that the silence permeating the Jewish delicatessen's 1st floor, as someone breezed past them in window. Simultaneously the bell rang and the door opened, as a flapper lady entered into the restaurant. It was Mademoiselle Angela Atholstan, just as El Whirlo finished the very three-lettered word. Her short, curvy hair reflected that of latest fashion younger ladies had, and her short skirt was among the median size that they expected.

Patrizio, immediately recognising her presence, tried his best not to notice her while El Whirlo, deciding that he's no longer safe being around here, and hastily packed his stuffs up. He, without any haste, put his top hat on and left. Patrizio just hoped that he wasn't too drunk to drive home, or else he wouldn't be able to come home for the night. Perhaps he'd have to stay at a hotel nearby, but with that potential risks existed with greater chance, of all the semi-enemies he had in the city....Montreal's no longer safe for him.

by **Neu Engollon** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 12:04 am

BURGUNDEN
ZURICH CANTON, NEU ENGOLLON

Machu Piccu was just less crowded than the Burgunden BreuPub or Attico's. It just was. Call it patriotism, call it a matter of acquired taste. The Cenian chain did well enough that it wasn't in danger of going under. Any brew pub was bound to do well in the largest city in Neu Engollon, at 14 million denizens, in one of the most notorious beer swilling nations on the planet.
Still, Machu Piccu would never make much headway in overtaking the market in the home city of Burgunden Breus. So it was the natural choice for local celebs that didn't want to wait and fight for a table or deal with obnoxious crowds. There were those that wanted to be seen and fawned over in the original legendary BreuPub, and those that wanted to be left alone and eat, drink and talk in peace. The latter grabbed tables at the Machu Piccu pub. The irony that one of the top most footballers ever in the Confederacy was in the home ground of Cenian expats, a major group foe for the Goats in the current World Cup was not lost on the group at the back table.

"Cozzfickin' Cenians...I cannuh believe we're...errhh, whazzit?...So, Gerry..."

"Yeah...Freddy? Whazzup?" Paseult struggled to not slouch as he felt the effects of several beers weigh him down. He still had to show up tomorrow to record all sorts of World Cup pre-match coverage in the NETV Sports 7 studio and he wasn't on track to do that on time at this point.

"Sooo...Has Magda hit on you yet?" The inquisitioner looked at him askance as he took a swig of suds.
Freddy Reitzbach was one of the star ruggers of the national rugby team and had become good friends with Gerry Paseult over the years, well before he had retired from the national football team to take the co-anchor spot for the football desk at NETV.

"What?! I...I don't think so."

Karl Demais snorted, then was dribbled a bit of whiskey out the corner of his mouth, unable to control the laughter that shook him. Karl had been Magda Wertauer's co-anchor for years and knew her antics very well.

"Shut up, Karl! What, you got hit on?"

"Who, me? Nah. Not hurrr type. Cougarzz don't go for ol' dogzzzzhh...like me. Plus I never got paid ta play...anything." Karl struggled to focus, looking down at the table and the amber liquid in his glass. He probably had downed as much in volume of liquor as they had in beer. That he hadn't passed out face down on the table now was a miracle.

"Cougars?"

Freddy smiled.
"Yeah, man. Older women going for the young bucks. You know? Magda is notorious, but I think sheezh just not into you footie types. Strictly a rugger hunter, that gal." Seeing Gerry's look, he continued, "...She used tah hit on me all tha time. Tried to scope me out in the locker rooms all tha time..." He winked. "Buuht...give 'er time. She'll come around ta yoooz footballahz types. That and...you are uh writer dude, now. That sweetens the pot."

"Small column for the Times. It's not really a big deal. 'Dude' is not in the title, by the way. You gonna be alright for tomorrow, Karl?"

"zzzzgkkng...Huh? Yeazzh...Ya. Readin' off zzum biathlon timezzzh. I think I can handool...handum...HANDLE it. Handle it. I got it...zzzhur....zzzkkkggghnn...."

They laughed some more, drank a bit more and Karl vomited a great deal more than any man should in one night and still live to tell tales the next day. They all made it home, dragging Karl to his door first, then Gerry making sure that Freddy got in all right. His head spun as he caught the Metro home, and not all of it was because of the brews.

That next afternoon, Gerry kept it together. Even with a pounding headache he could get through the taping they needed for the pre-match segments. During breaks he kept an eye on Magda. There was no clue as to the attitudes and behaviors hinted at from his buddies the night before. Magda smiled, kept professional and studied her notes. She barely glanced at Gerry during their breaks inbetween taping, and suddenly he felt...left out. Neglected. He was certainly a ladies man in most eyes. Sexiest man in Neu Engollon twice according to Vokgen magazine. He had no problem attracting the younger women, but...Not a hint of interest from this suave silver fox. He mused, then snapped out of it as they were due live in two minutes for the Rejistania post-match report.

One minute. Fingers snapped. A brush was brought to the stray lock of Magda's hair.

Thirty Seconds. A towel touched his brow from a quick intern slinking in from the side. A stern look from the Director at the uncharacteristic sweat.

10...9...8...7...6...5...Fingers spread out on both hands...Two fingers...The chopping motion...

"Good evening, Neu Engollon. I'm Magda Wertauer and this is my co-host, Gerry Paseult. You're watching the NETV Sports 7 Update. We go straight to the Capital Center in Telleursville, where the Goats have won their third qualifying match for the World Cup against Rejistania. It was a close one as those of you who caught the game live might have seen...Isn't that right, Gerry?"

"...Yes. Yes, it was, Magda. With an attack on the Rejistanian goal in the last 5 minutes, Brenz showed why he has stayed strong as Goats Captain. Faking out and juking around the last Rejistanian defender, he fed a pass off to Danijel Babic, who was able to kiss the top corner of the net."

"Rejistania was never able to get the ball back in the Goats backfield again...In fact, they had one more minute total of possession for the rest of the match while the Goats taunted them with half hearted feints at their defenders, shuffling the ball back and forth and well out of reach of the fresh unranked Rejistanian players."

"Not quite a lock as we might think, Magda. With their tying goal after the half, I think we were all sweating that the Goats may have underestimated a new foe once again. Give credit. This was no cakewalk."

"No, it wasn't, Gerry. Neither was the match against Darmen in Net Natinalen Stadin in Scott City. Another one point difference at the end whistle and the Goats were able to skate by the All Greens."

"No thanks to Gregio or McKay, for sure. Each with a goal and thrice as many attempts on Oskar Flegzut, and Anselmetti, who had watch during the first 20 minutes of the match. Not to fail to mention the long drop from Tor Tong Lee that took that odd bounce and shot in centimeters from Anselmetti's fingertips during his failed dive..."

"That was a heart breaker. The match against Electrum...Yes, also a one point win...Also, a 4 to 3 final. The Goats have done wonders so far in pulling out some last reserve of energy to shut down their opponents, but one might question the steel of the defense. None of them are ready for retirement age-wise...Yet, LeCuyer, the oldest one out there has the best record right now of stopping attacks on goal."

"Magda, I won't hear of this denegration on my former mates. They are doing their best, but as a whole, the Goats have been a heavily offensive focused team since well before my day on the green. Defense is going to suffer in such cases."

"Sure, Gerry. Well...Let's hope that this upcoming match, they can squeeze another win over the other unranked nation in the group, Masentur. Then keep it rolling from there. Seriously, they have to rack up every goal and win they can. They still have both matches against number one ranked in the world, Audioslavia coming up."

"Truer words were never spoken, Magda. On top of that, revenge opportunities for Electrum and Darmen to equal the score, and we have yet to face Ceni, either. Don't be deceived, folks, by Neu Engollon's top spot at the moment. It could all be fleeting with the toughest group draw they have ever faced."

"Right. Really too early to tell, Gerry, in these early matches of the Group Stage. It could still be any number of teams to steal the lead."

"I think it's safe to say that Audioslavia is going to stay floating near the top there."

"Hopefully with Neu Engollon bobbing next to them..."

"Er...Right. More after the break..."

by **Mizuyuki** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 12:32 am

Fifteen minutes to go before kickoff.

Fifteen minutes to go. I should be out there on the pitch, performing my usual warm-up routine together with the rest of the team.

And yet here I was, shuddering uncontrollably like a fucking jelly in the showers. I drew quick, shallow, gasping breaths as my eyes darted about the clean, well-appointed dressing room. A terrifying, paralysing cocktail of anticipation, fear and panic burrowed ever deeper into my core. I held up my manicured hands in front of me and perceived, through a misty daze, that they were shivering, too - just like the rest of my fucking body. Even though I couldn't see my insides, I fancied they must be full of goddamned butterflies and snakes, all tangled up together in an almighty mess.

I couldn't remember the last time I had lost control of my physical faculties to such an extent. Not even when we were at the most magnificent stage of 'em all, the World Cup, and facing off against the powerhouses of Kinitaria, the mysterious and erudite monks of the Monastic Republic, and the mythical Andossa Se Mitrin Vega.

Instead, we were playing Patistan. Fucking Patistan, who had been - hell, still was - one of multiversal football's biggest jokes, and here I was, a self-professed professional football player - just about to fall to pieces. I was a goddamned wreck.

Holding a nearby concrete pillar for support, I staggered to my feet, being careful to keep my feet firmly planted on the floor in case I slipped and injured myself. It was several agonising seconds - though it seemed to me like an eternity - before my grip strengthened and I could be relatively sure that I was not going to take a tumble as soon as I let go of the pillar.

I simply stood there, motionless, waiting patiently for the frame-wracking shudders to disappear. In the meantime, I tried one of my pre-match rituals - an old trick passed down by Miraians throughout the centuries - just to see if exercising the mundane would exorcise the singularly confusing jumble of roiling emotions within myself. Writing the Miraian character for 'human' in my palm - I drew a deep breath, willing the tension and nerves to subside as if the morning mist before a hot sun, before making a gulping motion as I clapped my palm to my mouth.

I could smell - almost taste - the damp, cold perspiration lining my palm as my throat contracted. I knew the old folk tale about the ritual was just a load of pure, unadulterated bullshit - but nonetheless, sheer habit forced me into the ritual every time I felt a panic attack coming on. And perhaps it was just the placebo effect, but I felt myself calm down - heart rate slowly settling down into its natural rhythm, the shuddering replaced by the intensely warm heat it generated in its wake, and quick, shallow gasps that passed for breaths returning to normal.

"Okay, there's no need to get all worked up. It's only Patistan, after all. We'll beat 'em without breaking into sweat."

My words sounded hollow, exposed as the hollow, complacent sentiments that they really were, but in all frankness I didn't even believe myself. There were never any easy matches at this level of competition - our previous match, a close-fought 3-2 away win against Valientus, had confirmed that fact. Logic dictated that we would find every match a difficult one, be it away against Vilita or at home against Patistan; that was merely simple, cold reasoning. Nonetheless, the little pep talk proved to be an immense help - I could feel the first embers of self-confidence begin to burst into wild, red flame; that heady elixir of conviction begin to flow through my veins.

"Let's do this."

Slinging my boots over my shoulder, I picked up my bottle and pushed the swinging door open, stepping forth into a brightly-illuminated corridor. As I jogged down the corridor, heading towards the pitch; I began, unconsciously, to count down the seconds until kickoff.

Ten minutes until kickoff.

Ten minutes to go, and I would be out there, playing my socks off and my heart out.

With my heart and soul overflowing with unadulterated anticipation, drowning out the negative emotions in one fell swoop, I stepped forth to do battle fro my country.

Last.fm · by **Cosumar** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 12:59 am

Cosumar manhandles Dracum for first three points

KALDUKOSIC, COSUMAR - Sur Arora scored a hat trick as Cosumar overpowered 10-man Dracum for a 4-0 rout in their home opener at Leviathan Arena. Kirum Mortonsson also scored for Cosumar.

Arora, who now trails Rikki Varshney by just three goals for the all-time Cosumarite scoring record, was ruthless against a Dracum squad that was clearly out of its depth, especially after a red card to defender Nazario Rossini reduced them to ten men in the 38th minute. Dracum was already down 2-0 when Rossini was sent off for allegedly kicking Arora when the Cosumarite was laying on the ground after a blatant dive.

With Rikki Varshney supporting in the stands, the Cosumarite crowd celebrated Arora's 83rd international goal with a rousing chant of the striker's name in the closing minutes.

After the Dragons' less than impressive debut against Super-Llamaland, this kind of inspiring performance was needed to get the team back on track. It was similar to how Cosumar rebounded from a dreadful 4-0 debut in The Archregimancy with a 3-0 victory over Glaser in the first two matches of World Cup 69.

What must be worrying for Cosumar's Group 15 rivals is the ease with which Farris Crowley's crew disposed of Dracum from the outset. Even Osarius, the world's second-ranked team, failed to dispatch the unranked side as convincingly as Cosumar did.

Dracum's most dangerous player, Al Draca striker Ali Traversi, started well at Leviathan Arena but faded after threatening early in the match. His best look was a shot from a furious break in the 5th minute that goalkeeper Tomi Koskinen could only tap back out, but there was nobody from Dracum there to collect the rebound and Koskinen was able to recover and pounce on the ball.

It was, to nobody's surprise, Arora who opened the scoring in the 13th minute after Anders Engström was dragged down in desperation by Osvaldo Pesaro in the box. Arora slotted the penalty kick into the right corner of Luis Vela's goal with his usual cool composure.

Center back Kirum Mortonsson scored a rare goal in the 33rd minute, rising above Rossini to double Cosumar's lead with a perfectly-timed header from a Paaron Petrov corner. Arora added extra stuffing to the Dragons' cushion just after Rossini's ejection when he poked the ball away from Dracumian captain Paolo di Stefano and drilled in a low shot before Vela had a chance to react.

The Dragons marched into the locker room with a 3-0 lead at half time. But the Cosumarite players were keenly aware that they had collapsed after leading Super-Llamaland 3-1 at this same juncture in their last match. Their MD1 debacle was clearly still fresh in their minds, as they came out of the gate in the second half with renewed concentration and vigor.

Arora completed the rout and his hat trick late in the second half, tapping in from close range after Vela intercepted a ground cross from substitute winger Petri Hansen but failed to control it. The deflection landed right in the lap of Arora, who would not waste the lucky bounce.

Dracum's chances were limited in the second half. Traversi fired a powerful free kick late in the match but it was easily punched away by Koskinen. All things considered, the Dracumians are fortunate the margin was not larger than 4. The Dragons had a myriad of great chances throughout the half but all that came of them was a string of near-misses. Engström and Ace Newman both wasted open looks.

The only negative of the match for Farris Crowley was seeing Mortonsson hobble off the field with an apparent knee injury midway through the second half. The severity of the injury is unclear at this time. He was replaced by 33-year-old substitute defender Abdiel Assad, who made his first appearance of this World Cup after starting in the past four.

Cosumar
20 shots (13 on-target)
55% Possession, 84% pass completion
12 deliveries in penalty area
8 fouls, 0 cards
Dracum
7 shots (5 on-target)
45% Possession, 78% pass completion
3 deliveries in penalty area
11 fouls, 1 red card (Rossini)
Cosumar - 4
13' (Arora)
33' (Mortonsson)
45+2' (Arora)
83' (Arora)
Dracum - 0
No scorers

With their first Group 15 win under their belt, the Dragons will be in good spirits for their long flight to Rushmore. Don't fret Cosumarites, it's not Polar Islandstates or Eura they're going there for, but rather lowly Ancharmunn. The Charmunnry continue to struggle in vain to re-establish their football program, having lost each of their last three matches by a combined score of 9-2. Their defense was cracked wide open in their 5-1 beating at the hands of Super-Llamaland today. Farris Crowley will not be shy in attempting to replicate that result.

With a 1-0-1 record, Cosumar currently sits in 4th place on the Group 15 table, a full six points behind group leaders Osarius and Super-Llamaland. This margin is exaggerated, however, because the Dragons have played one fewer game due to their early bye. This discrepancy will iron itself out in due time. It's best not to use the table as a measure of progress, but rather, focus on getting as many points as possible one match at a time.

While the Cosumarites and Llamaneans were thrashing their respective opponents on MD3, the rest of the group's matches were rather uneventful. The Greater Vakolicci Haven showed their grit once more by forcing higher-ranked HorusLand to a scoreless draw, while Osarius barely eked out a 1-0 win over Peruvian Highlands.

The key Group 15 matches for Cosumarite fans to pay attention to in MD4 will be HorusLand's (79) home meeting with Osarius (2) and Super-Llamaland's (42) clash with better-than-expected debutants Peruvian Highlands (272). It would be a boon for the Dragons if HorusLand or Peruvian Highlands could steal a point from the leaders to go along with Cosumar's (likely) victory in Ancharmunn.

Thank you for reading The Cosumarite Courier's exclusive World Cup 70 Coverage. Follow us on Twitter @TheCourier or subscribe to our website (TheCourier.cos) to receive daily updates and analysis of Cosumar's progress in the tournament.

Wally Vanderjagt
Staff Writer

Cosumar's World Cup 69 Journey
Pre-Qual Friendly: Star United States 0-0 Cosumar
Pre-Qual Friendly: Cosumar 2-1 San Jose Guayabal
Pre-Qual Friendly: Equestrian States 1-0 Cosumar
Matchday 1: Super-Llamaland 4-3 Cosumar
Matchday 2: Bye
Matchday 3: Cosumar 4-0 Dracum
Matchday 4: Ancharmunn vs. Cosumar
Matchday 5: Cosumar vs. Peruvian Highlands (@ Fire River Arena, Ramusok, Cosumar)
Matchday 6: HorusLand vs. Cosumar
Matchday 7: Cosumar vs. Zips Nation (@ Leviathan Arena, Kaldukosic, Cosumar)
Matchday 8: The Greater Vakolicci Haven vs. Cosumar
Matchday 9: Cosumar vs. Osarius (@ Leviathan Arena, Kaldukosic, Cosumar)
Mid-Qual Friendlies: TBD
Matchday 10: Cosumar vs. Super-Llamaland (@ Leviathan Arena, Kaldukosic, Cosumar)
Matchday 11: Bye
Matchday 12: Dracum vs. Cosumar
Matchday 13: Cosumar vs. Ancharmunn (@ Leviathan Arena, Kaldukosic, Cosumar)
Matchday 14: Peruvian Highlands vs. Cosumar
Matchday 15: Cosumar vs. HorusLand (@ Fire River Arena, Ramusok, Cosumar)
Matchday 16: Zips Nation vs. Cosumar
Matchday 17: Cosumar vs. The Greater Vakolicci Haven (@ Leviathan Arena, Kaldukosic, Cosumar)
Matchday 18: Osarius vs. Cosumar
Blue: Draw
Green: Victory
Red: Defeat

Cosumar Goal-Scorers Tally (7 GF)
Sur Arora (4)
Ace Newman (1)
Jukka Lindroos (1)
Kirum Mortonsson (1)

Cosumar Assists Tally
Anders Engström (2)
Sur Arora (1)
Paaron Petrov (1)

by **United States of Devonta** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 1:19 am

Redemption well do!
^{Solid game with few mistakes}

United States of Devonta 3-2 Schutzenphalia & West Ruhntuhnkuhnland

United States of Devonta (4-4-2 Diamond): Cooper, Brooks, Benton, Kindred, Liam, Russell, Abdullah, Edwards, Owens, Johansen, Adams

Quick Stats:
53% Possessions, 11 Shots, 9 on goal
47% Possessions, 8 Shots, 4 on goal

Scores: Abdullah (23'), Adams (45+2), Owens (82')

CAUTIONED: Owens (25'), Russell (76')
EJECTED: --NONE--

Table:

  Group 19                                Pld    W   D   L    GF   GA   GD   Pts
1 The Holy Empire                           3    3   0   0     7    3   +4     9
2 The Royal Barangay                        3    2   0   1     7    6   +1     6
3 United States of Devonta                  3    2   0   1     5    4   +1     6
4 Boring Paradise                           3    2   0   1     6    6    0     6
5 New North Aqmuland                        2    1   1   0     4    3   +1     4
6 Sarrbia                                   3    0   2   1     1    2   −1     2
7 Dainer                                    3    0   1   2     2    4   −2     1
8 Jecatria                                  2    0   0   2     6    8   −2     0
9 Schutzenphalia & West Ruhntuhnkuhnland    2    0   0   2     5    7   −2     0

Kid Legend: The Beginning of Coach Christopher Mendez

There once was a boy named Christopher Mendez or Chris to friends and family, who lived in the small hot New Julia town of Santos. A town founded in 1863 by Hispanic immigrants that migrated to the south of the United States of Devonta in great numbers. The townspeople where still majority Hispanic, with allot of people being descended from the original settlers of the town. There where towns just like it all around New Julia, giving the state the biggest Hispanic population of any state, with Hispanics in higher numbers then blacks and whites in some parts.

Chris was forced to play soccer by his father who was forced by his dad. Luckily Chris loved soccer unlike some of the other boys forced to play by there fathers. Chris played to impress his father and mother, although she was proud of him win or lose, like most mothers. It had been five years since he played his first soccer game, Chris was 12 years old know, approaching teenhood and he'd just started puberty and his team had made it to the youth league finals for the third time, in a draw between his team, the Santos Chihuahuas, and the big town team Santa Julia Bengals.

Chris liked to play in the right midfield in the thick of action, and today he was determined to win the youth league final. Throughout the season his team played against the Santa Julia Bengals twice, and his team had never beaten them. Loosing 2-1 in there first game and 1-0 in there second. It was a youth league rivalry and the Bengals where winning, but the finals was all that matters now. Chris and his team where determined to win, but the Bengals where too.

Some players on the team had sprayed their hair blue and brown to represent there team colors and spirit. One of his teammates', Josh Peterson's parents had made a banner with the teams mascot Riley the Chihuahua and the teams color on it, so they could run through it when the team ran out onto the sunny field. Everyone's eyes where on the boys as they ran out to face the Bengals who where already on the field. Chris looked up in the stands for his mom and dad. When he seen them they waved but his dad kept a stern look on his face, Chris knew he needed to win this game.

Chris's team won the coin toss and chose to have the ball first, with the wind to there back giving them a slight advantage. The game started with a whistle from the referee. The game was slow at first with both teams going at it, back and forth. Luckily Chris's team scored in the second half with Chris managing to break through the Bengals midfielders before skillfully passing it to one of the forwards passed most of the defense. The forward kicked the ball in, making the game 1-0 in the favor of Chris's team. The Bengals where fast to reply with a goal hit in close range with a knee after two failed attempts. The game was know tied 1-1. Just like the beginning of the match the game was in a bitter stalemate with most of the action happening on the midfield with Chris in the thick of it. The defenses of both teams being an effective stop to the offense on the teams. It ended when Chris drove up into the Bengals defense and managed to shoot a curved long shot into the goal, followed by a roar from the crowd. The game was now 2-1 and it would stay that way ending in a victory for the Chihuahuas.

After the match there was a reward ceremony held by the Youth Soccer Association and the players in each team got an oval shaped gold medal. Chris's team also received a plaque and trophy in honor of there victory. Everyones eyes where on the young Chris Mendez, the young man who won the game for his team, but none of the men and women watching knew Chris would become a legend in Devontan soccer, scoring over 602 goals in 682 appearances, winning Danza F.C six titles, its first at age fifteen. Upon retirement becoming the newly formed national teams coach. Chris is a legend.

----Match Summary----

A young, skilled Devontan national team fought to a close 3-2 victory on Saturday over Schutzenphalia & West Ruhntuhnkuhnland on in their first game since there hard fought 1-2 loss with Boring Paradise. The victory against Schutzenphalia & West Ruhntuhnkuhnland revamped the teams moral, preparing the team face the #4 ranked Holy Empire.

With head coach Christopher Tajo Mendez stating before the game that the aim for the team was to win, The Devontans with Johansen's fast passed tempo and effective skills controlled all of the game but there where signs of weakness in the defense during the 2nd half. The Scutz pressed a bit in the second half finding opportunities and they capitalized on there opportunities though still loosing the game. The Devontan team by critics where guessed likely to be eliminated in group 19, placing seventh or sixth but they currently hailed on to fifth.

Only two penalties where called the whole game. They where called on Devontan players Owens on the 25' mark and Russell on the 76th minute. The game was in favor of the Devontans for most of the first half, with the versatile Abdullah scoring in the 23rd minute mark, wooing the crowd with . Embarrassing the Kingston defense. The Devontans then scored another goal after a few missed shots or saved shots from mostly the midfield players a longshot, A close in five meter shot by young forward Adams in the 45+2 minute just made victory seem more real. The Scutz team managed to get a few good shots in during the second half but many where saved by the effective goal keeper Cooper, after a few mistakes in the defense the Scutz team manged to tie the game 2-2 with two close range shots. Never the less the Devontan national team ended with a victory when midfielder Owens launched a long shot into the Schutz goal during the 82nd minute.

by **Estenia** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 1:47 am

OOC: I promised to myself no more 80 metre shots and that's what I do. Be happy everybody.

2nd Matchday Estenia plays, first win!

Olympiastadion, Murin

Jakobson Celebrating the second goal

No surprise to us after we won a Baptism of Fire favourite Pays D'en Haut with the most normal score that exists on football 2-0. Andrei Nazarenkov instead of shoting from 80 metres he decided to cross it from that distance because he was happy after the good performance on the Baptism of Fire and against Nephara in which with all seriousness everybody expected a loss with 4-0 and above.

The matchday began Jakoson had the ball, he gave it back to Makareshi, he moved on and dribbled Lapointe with his first ever successfull roulette, passed it to Adrianov, who long passed it to Eenpalu, an old but very good midfielder. Then with his turn moved on, passed it back to Nazarenkov who crossed it in the box and Jakobson with the header missed it, it was the match's 5th minute. Later on, somewhere in the 10th minute, Turcotte missed a chance that was keeped by Maksimov and he quickly gave it to Rakismovich, a fantastic cross from him ended in Peehlak's feet and he shot the ball from 29 metres and found the net. He quickly started cheering up, he flipped over and went to his wife and 2 children, young in age, both of them at 1 year old, they were twins.

On the second half, 75th minute, the game had no more than 2 uselless Estenian chances, all of them ending in a goal kick, this was the time of Makareshi, he saw that Jakobson was unmarked and started dribbling 2 of Pays D'en Haut players and gave it to Jakobson who turned to his right moved on and shot from 24 metres, the ball ended on the net and he celebrated in a fascinating way, the Na'Malsille Mariners player, had a very good season, scoring 18 goals although the team finished third to last and got relagated to the playoffs. Now he's playing for a Sekundar Ligan team but he's going to do better, way better.

In the last minute, the refferee blew out the whistle and Estenian players cheered their first win of the qualifiers and most probably the last. Makareshi was there in the times of need and he took he shirt of, signed it and gave it to one of his biggest fans, his nephew from his older brother, Andrei Makareshi, Filipp Makareshi, he was aged 7, Bratislavian descent although was supporting Estenia, his second country. Then, Yuri made the others get in to celebrate that win, attendance was 59.000 to 66.000 people, 57.000 being Estenians and only 2.000 being from Pay D'en Haut.

Meanwhile on the rest of Estenia, including Murin

The November vacation was moving on perfectly for Estenians, it was the last day, when everyone was going to stay on their homes after a week of shopping the food and the presents to ginve to each other. Everyone was eating chicken with sweet potatoes along with some wine, but as children are not allowed more than a sip of that, drinking their favouite beverage, then everyone at 4 o'clock, opened the presents, which were either clothes for the mild nonexistable Estenian winter or some device, like cellphones, laptops, even Playstation or Xbox, with a game on it. Then at 7 o'clock match began and ended on a great 2-0 win for Estenians, a win that was a present for everyone and everyone was happy.

Meanwhile on Estenians of Bratislav

All the 1.300.000 Estenians of Bratislav, except of celebrating November vacation, they were just sitting on their homes a beautiful Saturday evening, at around 8 pm and wtached the match, when they saw Estenia winning, most of the Estenians living in the cities of Besrag and Musrum gathered up in the streets not leaving Bratislavans to sleep for the night. 80.000 Estenians had gathered up in the streets of Besrag and another 20.000 in Musrum. As well as other 50.000 ion other cities as well.

by **Electrum** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 3:20 am

It seemed like they were stuck in a vortex for hours.... but in reality it only took a few minutes for Risa Shigaraki, and four of her players to find themselves at the other side of the portal, where the Mizuyukian Squad Camp was located. And with that, the five of them poured out of the tear in the spacetime fabric, and fell on each other, Risa Shigaraki on the bottom, Watkins on the top.

"Get off me, you lot!" she barked at them. No matter where they were, she was still going to be the boss, in charge of their future and their destiny. They had better do what she said, or incur the wrath of the Shigaraki, as it was said in the Electrumite team. Shigaraki was one cruel mistress to the team and wasn't afraid to show that off. But, towards others she was friendly and hospitable, an entirely different person. Shigaraki dusted herself off from the debris and looked around - she was back at home. Luckily, it turned out that they were right in the compound where the camp was going to be held.

Looking across the room, she immediately noticed a shocked receptionist. She dusted herself off with a few quick motions and went to the receptionist.

"Um," she read the name plate on the desk, "Kayano..."

"Oh... OH I recognise you, Risa Shigaraki, right?"

"Yeah, that's me!"

There was some hurried typing on the computer... the male receptionist was clearly not told how the Electrumites would arrive that day, at that location, in the administration wing of the camp, at that particular time. He was calling up their hosts, and while they were waiting, the other four were talking between themselves.

"Man my stomach hurts..." said the youngest, Mitch Watkins.

"THAT. WAS. AWESOME," Jake Latham exclaimed loudly. Meanwhile, Ficker himself was astounded, "I never knew they had so many computers here!"

"No, Peter, you're just poor," replied Sam Kara disapprovingly. In fact, he looked at all of them disapprovingly. He was the only one who was part of the original team, but was still under-21 and therefore forced to go on this camp, even though he had been on the team for two cycles now. The joys of being young.

"Alright," the receptionist said to Risa, "Fuu should be ready to meet you downstairs, if you will follow me..."

"Firstly, I just would like to say to you, thank you so much for hosting us here... but you might need to clean the debris we brought with us though..."

"No worries, we'll get that cleaned up quicksmart, don't you worry about that. Don't you have more important things to worry about?"

"I suppose. Alright team, let's go meet the coach."

"Ugh... it's coming out," said Mitch Watkins.

"What is it now, Mitch. We're going to meet our hosts and ..? What do you mean by it?"

"My stomach...."

Risa Shigaraki turned around with a furrowed brow. And then she smelt it.

An hour later...

After being thoroughly embarrassed by a certain Mitch Watkins, she could finally meet up with her Mizuyukian counterpart Kiriyama Fuu, the co-manager of the Under-21 Mizuyukian team.

"Hello, nice to meet you, they're your problem now... there's five of us." Shigaraki turned around -- she remembered something. "Oh I'm sorry, four of us... another one in the toilet."

"Yes, I believe this is the first time we met, Risa." The other three shuffled in nervously behind Risa. "Oh, you three, I guess you need to be led to your rooms. *AHEM* Miyashiro!"

A youngish girl came to the room. "Won't you show our guests to our rooms?"

"Yes." Risa turned around and she was shocked. She looked so, so young. Risa only worked with those above sixteen years of age in Electrum, they had no funding for long term development, like they did in other countries such as Mizuyuki. Miyashiro led the three remaining players out of the room, leaving Risa and her counterpart in the room.

"Who is she?"

"That? She's the captain of the team." Fuu pulled out a photo from her pocket... "That's her right there."

"Ah. But look! How young are these kids next to her?"

"Thirteen... Fourteen... Most of our kids are around that age, why?"

It was audible. The sound of Risa's jaw hitting the floor. She had made a grave miscalculation. She had sent her teenage team members away from the World Cup to go to a camp with children.

by **Semarland** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 3:31 am

semarluundik indapadten

SELTIK 2-3 SEMARLAND

Semarland finally got their first win of the campaign, a narrow 3-2 win against Seltik.

Axton Carver put the hosts in front on 17 minutes, after some brilliant play between him and Devon Surrey. The 26 year old volleyed home from an impressive 30 yards, an unstoppable shot into the far top corner that no keeper could ever save. However, it was Devon Surrey who gifted Semarland an equaliser, with a poor pass towards Carver being intercepted by Steffan Poulsen, who found Mads Olsen soaring down the wing, who crossed the ball to Yannick Simeone, who, with a bullet header, got his first goal for Semarland, on 38 minutes. On 42 minutes, Seltik went back into the lead, thanks to the brilliant Carver, who found Will Davis with an excellent pass, leaving only Davis to slot the ball past Jorgen Karlstad.

Marc Lygaard got Semarland's equaliser on 67 minutes. Having won a free kick a few yards away from the box, after Felix Swindlehurst's shove, Lygaard headed home from Steffan Poulsen's free kick. Lygaard & Simeone had further chances, as did Demba Cisse, but goalkeeper Henry Wallace (who plays in Semarland, for Krsthaven), managed to deny them all. Substitutes Jakob Larsen & Claes Naemstad also had their shots saved. However, he could do nothing about what happened on 83 minutes. Erwin French hacked Claes Naemstad down nastily in the penalty area, resulting in a yellow card for the Seltik defender (although many complained it should've been a red). Lygaard coolly stepped up and converted the penalty, sending Wallace the wrong way, and ultimately winning the game for Semarland.

Semarland will next face Democratic States of Fenbar.

SEMARLAND: Jorgen Karlstad; Matur Eiriksson, Jakob Lunds, Matthias Karbruck, Eirik Malsen (Ole Mikkelsen 89); Steffan Poulsen; Mads Olsen (Claes Naemstad 73), Tipio Runen; Demba Cisse; Marc Lygaard, Yannick Simeone (Jakob Larsen 85)

by **Polaaskan** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 3:42 am

polaanews
polaaskan draw against schottia

Polaaskan goals: Timo Heinckel 31, Christian Hogg 88
Schottia goals: Mark Allen 42, Avellione 71

The team will travel to top seed Saintland, for their next match.

OOC: Apologies for this very short RP. If I get time later I'll edit some more in.

by **The Sarian** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 4:21 am

The Sarian 6-1 Lymantatia

'1 Y. Masters         '13 W. Peters         '19 J. Yap
'25 J. Yap            '64  J. Yap           '80 M. Horn
'84 A. Non

Jacobo Yap scored a brilliant hat-trick to boost The Sarian's hopes of qualifying and pile the misery on Lymantatia.

Yeriyahu Masters scored after 45 seconds before William Peters headed home and Yap struck twice as The Sarian swept into a 4-0 lead after 25 minutes.

Yap sealed his hat-trick after the break, with Marcus Horn making it 6-0 before Lymantatia scored a late consolation.

Playing with the confidence and ability which lead to his big money move to Crompton City, Yap ripped the Lymantatia defence to pieces with his direct running and clinical finishing.

Clearly buoyed by his recent form, he continually latched on to clever, probing through balls from Horacio Lopez, Jude Moffett and Masters.

From the moment Masters cut inside and fired home from 25 yards, there was only going to be one winner.

Peters doubled the home side's lead, heading home Lopez's corner, before Yap ran on to Moffett's delightful pass to round the keeper and make it 3-0, with his second coming as Lymantatia made a complete hash of a clearance.

After Lopez missed a good chance to make it five shortly after half-time, Lymantatia almost offered had something to cheer about when a stinging shot was turned wide by Kasper Lorde.

Yap looked to be getting closer to his first hat-trick for the national side when his powerful shot from the edge of the area was beaten away.

And the moment finally came in the 64th minute when the striker was put through on goal by Lopez's inch-perfect pass and he side-footed into the far corner.

Substitute Horn made it six when he smashed in from close range before Lymantatia hooked a shot across Lorde into the net.

It was of little consolation for the side, whose inadequacies were woefully exposed by their rampant hosts.

by **Gregoryisgodistan** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 4:28 am

District 26 Destroyed in Nuclear Strike

Early this morning, the Gregoryisgodistani military detonated multiple low-grade nuclear weapons over advancing Gloriax troops in District 26. The strikes instantly killed all the advancing troops as well as all citizens of the District. It now looks like the war is coming to an end, with the troops all gone from Gregoryisgodistan. Meanwhile, the human blitzkrieg continues in Gloriax, with troops parachuting in armed with flamethrowers and other weapons. There is much chaos there as the country deals with the loss of their troops in addition to the human blitzkrieg. Lord Almighty Gregory gave a speech earlier this morning. The transcript is below.

“Good morning, ladies, gentlemen, and slaves. As you know, Gloriax’s military continues to push further and further into Gregoryisgodistan. Well, not anymore. Early this morning, we launched a nuclear strike at the advancing troops, killing them all. Unfortunately, this resulted in the complete destruction of District 26 and the deaths of about 900,000 Gregoryisgodistani civilians plus about 1.5 million soldiers. However, I am pleased to report that 2 million Gloriax soldiers are dead. Additionally, one of the bombs was detonated within about 500 feet of the Gloriax border, so it is highly likely that some civilians were killed on the other side as well. However, I have not yet received totals from the Gloriax authorities. Suffice it to say this is the most bloody day in Gregoryisgodistani history. Today, November 23, 2014 is a day that will live in infamy. We were forced to launch a nuclear attack on our own soil just to defend our country. That is not right. No country should be forced to do that. But Gloriax forced us to. This is why they are on our Enemy List. Their continued military provocations are no more. 2 million of their soldiers were killed today in a glorious nuclear strike. Countless civilians on their side were also killed across the border due to the strike near the border. It is a glorious day, yet a sad one. It is amazing how these emotions run together. For now, let us mourn our losses while celebrating the deaths of the Gloriax citizens, especially the wicked, evil military. Thank you.”

Gregoryisgodistan Pushes Further into Xylocarpstan

Gregoryisgodistani troops along with troops from San Jose Guayabal pushed further into Xylocarpstan (OOC: Coconutstan) today, killing thousands of evil, wicked xylocarps who choose to refer to themselves by a forbidden word that we will not dignify by using. These xylocarps were either smashed, shot, or both. Sometimes, the soldiers even ran them over with tanks. In any case, there are dead xylocarps all over the place and it seems likely the Xylocarpstan government will fall any day to a regime which has promised to kill all the xylocarps. In the words of Lord Almighty Gregory, “Xylocarps are evil. I will not use their chosen name for themselves, for that word is an insult to me, the One True Lord. But it starts with a C and you know what it is. In any case, pretty soon we will take over the nation known as Xylocarpstan euphemistically, and we will destroy all the sapient xylocarps. Additionally, we will give xyloponies and xylohumans a chance to convert to our side, but if they fail to do so, they too will be executed. But any xylopony or xylohuman who fights with us will be saved. All hail Gregoryisgodistan! Death to Xylocarpstan! Death to Gloriax! And death to everyone else on our Enemy List too! I am the Lord Your God!”

Military SuperGeneral Craig Pule is one of the leaders of the fight against the xylocarps and had this to say. “It is clear that Xylocarpstan is trembling and quaking in fear of Lord Almighty Gregory. The xylocarps know they will all be dead soon. Already, 50,000 xylocarps have been killed along with some xyloponies and xylohumans. However, reportedly some xyloponies are joining forces with Gregoryisgodistani troops to destroy the xylocarps. It is sure to be a fun genocide if there ever was such a thing. Certainly, with Lord Almighty Gregory in charge, it will be fun, because we are never bored with Lord Almighty Gregory. Lord Almighty Gregory is God and he created the multiverse exactly 2,014 years and 18 days ago. That is why he is brave and heroic, among other reasons. Let us all respect Lord Almighty Gregory, praise him, and bow down to him out of love. It is out of his love for us that he is destroying the xylocarps so we do not have to deal with them and their affront to the Lord, Lord Almighty Gregory. Xylocarps choose to call themselves by a forbidden word which we must not use, so we call them xylocarps. It means the same thing, but ‘xylocarp’ is not a forbidden word. Therefore, we all must use it to refer to the xylocarps. Praise Lord Almighty Gregory day and night! Praise Lord Almighty Gregory as the sun rises and as it sets! Lord Almighty Gregory is God, and he must be right when he sends us to fight in this war. Lord Almighty Gregory is always right. Lord Almighty Gregory also never poops because he is God. But I digress. We all love Lord Almighty Gregory. That is why we must unite to destroy the xylocarps. While I mourn the loss of millions of heroes back home, we must band together in Xylocarpstan to destroy the xylocarps. Death to Xylocarpstan!”

by **Buyan** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 4:29 am

Line-up for MD4 Buyan - Unitedwestand123

Manuel Schmidt
Giedius Justs * Rafal Giertych * Kai Ruutu * Maxim Dziuba
Bartosz Wladecki
Marco Castell * Dmitri Plovnarov
Piotr Kluszak
Damian Balnerii * Andrey Rettinger

Quite some surprised eyes in the press hall when Reinhart Shale his eleven names. This was, in effect, a genuine B-side.

"Mister Shale," Gredholm sneered, "you realise these guys managed to bring Turori to a draw... Turori!"
"Certainly," the Nepharim manager responded, ignoring the sentiment that now hung over the room.
"But... but why? What if we throw away points again... Three games without a win in the qualifiers, that's the end of any chance of direct qualification!" someone stated as if he had just found a new law of thermodynamics.
"You mean that those players don't have what it takes to play for the Hedgehogs," Shale asked rather sharp.
"No... No, but, ..."
"Schmidt is a strong goalie. I have full confidence in Seber, but he deserves a chance as well. The same goes for the other defenders, Kai, Maxim, Giedius, young guys who must learn at this level. Quinten Zermin has a minor injury, to prevent worse this is a good moment for Wladecki to debut. Marco Castell been off the team for a long time, but his working rate is ideal against such teams. Dmitri missed the last match with a painful leg, so a good match to return. Piotr works hard, deserves a shot. In attack, I opted for the combination that scored against Greater Watford, time for them to convince me it wasn't by accident."

It all made sense, for an outsider at least, but...

"But Turo..."
"Home advantage, that's all. In the Nine, they won't stand a chance."

Clear words, but those are the ones that might backfire.

by **Nephara** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 4:50 am

Nephara had a good record against the Filopines. Two wins and a draw, ten scored and two conceded. But they weren't a bad team, just the sort of mid-seed that floats around as a gatekeeper to the Baptism of Fire teams but not really threatening the top two. For the Cormorants, it was a match they needed to win, to get their heads up again after the frustration of a draw to Pays. One slip was fine, as long as they made up for it later. But Filopines, at home... they needed to win.
Rook Cathar had been poor against the Habitants, and there were more than a few calls for him to be replaced by Bittencourt, or even Quinn. But Mortlock was certain, perhaps too certain, that he'd play his way back into form. Well, a goal here was a good start - from Rhein's boot to Cathar's chest, and from there letting it drop onto the boot, brushing past Arden and striking past Nolder. Rutger Locke could use a goal, too, and he got one as well - while Hart and Rodriguez did a good job throughout the 90 minutes of shutting him out of the match, he managed to get a way past them brilliantly in the 33rd minute, leaving them both in the dust before slotting a low shot past Nolder. And a third made the affair more certain still, Logan Murdoch scoring his second goal for his country as he burst into the box just in time to meet a low, drilled Stockinger cross with his left boot. He struck it sweetly, and Nolder could do nothing. Lamane, Cayley and substitute Fabien Ceneze each challenged Reece Coleman at moments, and Thomas Rosberg fired just inches over the bar during injury time, but it was a comfortable match, and one that restored calm to a nation put on their toes.
And it was exactly what they needed as they entered the most dangerous stretch of matches - Saint James away, Quebec at home, Yttribia away. Well... fuck 'em all. They'd be going for the nine points. They couldn't afford another slip.

"... You're resting Logan, guv?"
Jess Mortlock nodded confidently, looking at the board. "Yeah, and I don't think Keith will get the full 90 minutes, either. It'll be a good run-out for Carra in the midfield, and, well, we've seen what Kurtis can do as an impact substitute. Keith wears 'em down for 70 minutes, Kurtis pops up with the goals. Rook's back in form-"
"Well, he scored a goal. One."
"Either way, he needs to start, and so does most of our squad. They won't get a rest for any of the next three matches, so... I need to rotate where I can, right?"
That... sounded off. "Why're you asking me for approval, guv'nor?" said Auburn blankly.
"... Right. Yeah."
Jess shook her head. That had been a lapse. But it had been a rough couple of years, failures sprinkled among the silverware. Qualifying, the Campionato Esportiva on home soil... she'd gotten her tactics wrong more than once, and she was... well, she was desperate to pick up on that front. But sometimes it took her back to her days as Gethin Ramsey's assistant, watching him pick out a lineup in five minutes, draw a lot of up arrows and be done with it. "Go up" was his mantra, when people put their cards on the table. Keep assertive, keep aggressive, keep the ball in the opponents' half, that was the key. Keep the tactics simple and let the players do the rest. And he'd read up on the opponents, enough to single out a couple of weaknesses to exploit. That was as far as the tactical angle went.
It had worked, back in those days. When teams would go out and try to assert themselves on the Cormorants. But they weren't underdogs anymore, and if Ramsey had proven he could adapt with two superb seasons in the Premiership with AFC Treason, Mortlock... her form had been patchy. And sometimes she'd come unstuck.
And sometimes she wondered if she was the right woman for the job. Her experience was... limited. And the last cycle's qualifying was always in the back of her mind... was she really qualified for all this? Did Nephara deserve better?
"... Guv? You alright?"
Jess shook herself awake. "R- right. Yeah, I'm okay. Right, so we need to exploit the flanks against such a narrow formation..."

by **Schottia** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 4:52 am

All Covered Up

Part Four

A man of strong principles.

'What the hell happened to your hand?' Asked Abbey as Gary descended the short flight of stairs, which took him into the living area into her canal barge. The boat which Abbey lived in with her mum was so small inside that the 6'4" footballer looked mildly ridiculous taking a seat at the table.

'Oh this?' He said, casually holding the bandaged appendage aloft. 'Just burnt it cooking pasta the other night. It's not serious.' Imagine he told her the truth! It didn't bare thinking about.

'Coffee, then, I'm guessing?' Abbey asked looking out the appropriate equipment. She knew, all too well, Gary's weakness for caffeinated drinks. Her small build meant she could move deftly around the cabin, nimbly opening and closing cupboard doors. She also knew exactly where everything was, and this was another distinct advantage. Gary had often fantasised about owning a boat like this, however his stature would be an undeniable problem.

'That would be lovely. After the week I've had.' After the week I've had? He was starting to sound old. He really was getting like an old man. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he was shouting at his own television set. Already he had noticed people avoided asking him how he was, as he would invariably tell them.

'Well I've got a bit of good news for you Corsie.' His last point was illustrated perfectly by the fact that Abbey never asked about the aforementioned week. 'My band have just been signed to a record label.'

'Hey... That's great news Abbey. Congratulations.' She was the bass-player in some indy-metal band, Gary had seen them once or twice but it wasn't his thing. He wasn't particularly happy for her either, he couldn't care less he just hoped it didn't come across in his voice. 'So when does that all start? Does that mean you'll start getting paid for gigs?'

'It has already started.' She said beaming back at him. 'And yes we do get paid now.' She was literally a ball of excited energy as she poured him his coffee.

'Gary, I was wondering.' Abbey began tentatively. 'I'm a bit nervous about asking you this because I know how you feel about certain things. I mean, I know you are a man of strong principles.' She was nervously running her hands through her hair.

'Just say it Abbey, it can't be that bad.' He said impatiently. And how bad could it be?

'Well I just want to make it clear that this wasn't my Idea. The others in the band kind of put me up to it.' She was gritting her teeth slightly, as if bracing herself for impact.

'Okay, you've made that clear. What is it then?' Gary felt genuinely apprehensive now.

'Well maybe, like, because, like, we are starting out as a band it would be good to get some publicity.' Her squirming was getting hard to watch. 'Well, the others thought I should ask you... I wasn't my idea! But they wanted to know if I could say you were my boyfriend? Like, only if you were okay with it.'

The ball was in his court.

She was right he was a man of strong principles; but this was different. The idea frightened him a little but it did offer potential. This would be his chance to show her how good a boyfriend he could be, how nice a guy he was. He could really put himself in the shop window here. He had been playing the long game anyway, what harm was a little bit longer.

'Well you know Abbey, you're putting me in a tight spot here.' He replied trying not to lose the clam exterior. 'I mean morally of course, as you pointed out, it’s a dilemma for me.' He scratched his beard in a bid to appear deep in thought. 'On the other hand however, you are my friend and I feel compelled to help you out.'

He took a few moments to build the impression that this was a momentous decision for him. He twiddled his moustache, he scratched the back of his neck, he stared out of the window, he stared at the table.

'Okay, tell me what it will involve.'

The Daily Worker
World Cup Special
Marrian McFadden reports

Polaaskan 2-2 Schottia
Natunolstadjon, Polaaberg
Goals: Timo Heinckel 31' Christian Hogg 88' (Polaaskan). Mark Allen 42' Gaston Avellione 71' (Schottia).

Yesterday Schottia travelled to Pollaberg, to take on Polaaskan, finding themselves in an interesting position. For the second year on the bounce they had been drawn with the Baptism of Fire runners-up. The cycle previous they had of course taken on the Falenmark Islands. There was a feeling amongst the Schottic media that the White and Greens would realistically need to take four points from the two legs with Polaaskan, and that meant picking up a draw in the natunolstadjon, not an easy place to get points.

Schottia went with unchanged side from the one that suffered a heavy defeated at the hands of Saintland. After a bye in match day one, Schottia were still looking to get their first points on the board. Scoring their only goal in the 5-1 defeat, Mark Allen would be trusted once again to lead the line.

Schottia nearly got of to the perfect start on 8 minutes, as Gaston Avelione drew a good save out of Polaaskan keeper Teemu Petersen. The Handon United winger broke down the left, and instead of squaring the ball for the onrushing Joey Bia, opted to cut in and shoot. The keeper did excellently well to parry the ball out for a corner.

After finding themselves going behind on 31 minutes to a Timo Heinckel goal, Schottia were forced to regroup; as it began to look like one of those games that would be a struggle. Barry Gorman's men were forced to endure long periods of Polaaskan possession as the home side grew in confidence. Opportunities were few and far between as the Schottic midfield struggled to put more than two passes together, which in turn invited on more pressure.

Schottia made something of a breakthrough however, just on the stroke of halftime. Jon Fotan, not exactly renowned for his pace, managed to break free of Van Leonardsen, whipping a ball across the face of the box. The trajectory of the ball fooled everyone including Mark Allen who mistimed his header. Fortunately for the Hill valley man the rebound fell kindly and he was able to slot the ball home under Petersen.

It was a wholly different Schottia that emerged for the second half, the goal seeming to buoy them with confidence. This was evident in the way the midfield began to dictate the pace. Gary Corsie came close with a 20-yard drive before substitute Craig O'Maramy, on for Bia, fired inches wide from the edge of the box.

Schottia started to enjoy more and more of the ball and on 71 minutes another substitute Bruno Schwartz, after some excellent build up, was fouled on the edge of the box. The resulting free kick, taken by Jon Fotan was played short to Avelione, who drilled the ball home from the edge of the D. The Schottic fans were in raptures, however their joy was to be short lived as it was Polaaskan's turn to get a shake.

On 88 minutes the small group of travelling Scots were silenced as Christian Hogg's goal tied the match after 15 minutes of concerted Polaaskan pressure.

After the match Gorman had little room for complaint, conceding that it was a fair result based on the balance of play. However, he did express his disappointment at the way the team were unable to hold onto the lead in the dying minutes.

Next up Schottia have another potentially tricky match at home to 82nd ranked side Zenic, so they will be hoping for a great atmosphere in Handon to help them get something out of the match.

by **Jeruselem** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 6:21 am

Jeru FC coach Princess Amy and the Jeru FC keeper Duck Hoss

Amy: Oi, we lost 5-2 but it would have been a lot close if you didn't try helping opposition.
DH: What do you mean coach?
Amy: Three of the goals score was because you didn't catch the ball
DH: But they kicked the ball really hard
Amy: That's no excuse, it's how things are
DH: Really?

Amy: Three times you spill the ball and the opposition score fom the loose ball. That's just giving your opposition freebees
DH: We would have lost the game anyway
Amy: Well, if we miss on making the finals because of goal difference we know who to blame
DH: Umm, I won't do that again
Amy: The damage is done, we lost and lost badly
DH: I guess have lots to learn still

Amy: well, stop losing the bloody ball when you make a save
DH: Umm, I'll work on it
Amy: Actually catching the ball would make things easier
DH: I suppose it does
Amy: I don't expecy you stop all the shots but don't help the opponent by giving the ball back to them
DH: I've learnt my lesson.

Amy: Well you have to hurry up, I don't want you coughing up the ball
DH: It's not easy ya know
Amy: Well nothing is easy, stop whinging and fix the problem
DH: I suppose I do sometimes drop the ball
Amy: Well I don't want that to happen again
DH: It's not my fault our defenders aren't very good

Amy: I can't have a goalkeeper who is unreliable considering the defense are pack of lazy slackasses
DH: So why pick on me?
Amy: You're the last line of defense. Yes I have told the defense to lift their game but they are bit ... slow!
DH: I guess it looks real bad if we lose 5-2
Amy: Yes, and well I'm the manager and they'll think I'm not doing my job
DH: I guess ultimately it's your fault

Amy: Most managers pick their team, guess what. Jeru FC is different, I didn't pick you lot
DH: Yes, we were headed to Poo squad.
Amy: See, I can't even pick my own players and get handed a bunch of troublemakers
DH: You sound like my mum
Amy: Yes but you lot are bunch of trouble makers!
DH: I guess we are. But I don't want die being a member of poo squad

Amy: Well, you can do someting...
DH: Like what?
Amy: Maybe start winnng a few games.
DH: Oh yes that, hopefully we can do better.
Amy: Hopefully? We need to win games now.
DH: Don't worry coach.

by **Apox** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 6:37 am

Dravid Scott and Olim Benzari were sat in one of Dwile's more "upmarket" restaurants, one of the regular get togethers for two close friends who'd played togther at both international and domestic level for a number of years. On this occasion however, conversation was more serious, at least for Dravid, as he was still trying to recruit people for his commission, his "inquisition" as many in the press were calling it.

"Olim, look, I could definitely do with your expertise in this. No one else has as much practical knowledge in all facets of the game in Apox than yourself." Olim smiled wearily. He was used to requests, some small, some an effort, and he was used to turning them down, politely. However, this request had come from one of his best friends, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to refuse this one. He tried to postpone the question;

"Who else have you got signed up?"

"Well, I've got Karl Edwards, of the University of Dwile, you know, the leading lecturer in football studies?" Olim nodded, "and my sister, we need a balance of the sexes, with Miriam Whittaker brought along as well," Olim raised an eyebrow to this, "What? Oh come on, she has nothing to do with the AFB anymore, and what does it matter if people are linked to the AFB? This isn't a review into it's practises. I've got Fronden Abel as well, he's always had good input and plenty of opinions." The two men laughed, easing into silence. Dravid looked straight at Olim, and asked the question;

"So, can I count on you to be there?" 'There' in this case referring to the first meeting they were going to be having in a couple of weeks time. Olim sighed, slow and long, before clearing his throat.

"Yeah, I guess. Ok, fine."

This was the acid test really for qualifying, the game away against Blouman Empire, without doubt our hardest of the campaign. The first two had felt like little more than formalities, 6 goals for, 1 goal conceded, the line-up against Daritii being practically a second XI, with Martin Roskorwell impressing after being given a rare chance to start, scoring twice and setting up Zana Ibrox in the middle of the park for Apox's 3rd goal. The 4th goal was bizarre, John Lockwood's goal kick bouncing right through to Corinna McKenna, who jinked the ball past the last defender before confidently chipping the keeper to seal the win.

Now Gavin Hughes knew the most important match of his managerial career thus far was coming, this was an opportunity to make their mark on this group, to seize it and shake all the bloody points out of it that they could. He'd lined-up the strongest team they could field, with only Alice Monteforth sitting this one out due to a niggling groin injury, the competent Marcus Redwood replacing her in the team.

They had a bloody good innings of it to be fair, Tolgus Tregajorran, now 11 goals off Dravid Scott's goalscoring record nearly got his 40th international goal on about four occasions but Milton Tuneson was just too damn good in goal, him and his defense preventing anything from crossing that line. Which is a shame, because I can tell you, we really wanted to win that game. Just look at how Solomon Etezadi reacted to their goal. I genuinely didn't think we would ever get up from the floor at one point, but, credit to him, he got up and redoubled his efforts after that point.

by **Aestate** » Sun Nov 23, 2014 7:36 am

PORTUS CALE

Incredulity

Strange situation in Blue Stadium, and Portus Cale night

Agostina Bertolli in Portus Cale
Corriere Dello Sport, Saturday 22 November

Great numbers of aestateans, who not sold their tickets and had nothing else better to do in their lives, were in stadium waiting a new deception for them. But in initial minutes, Aestateans supporters were seeing a shocking performance of the National Team. “It’s not the end of the match, and they crossed the halfway line. Twice”, alarmed a fan with her hands in the face. And those surprises didn’t stop. “With ten minutes, they made two attacks. With ten minutes”, exclaimed a scared aestatean. Twenty minutes later, the supreme surprise with astonishments, “Dad, our ball was in the adversary’s net. What’s happening?” asked a stunned boy to his dumbfounded father. After one minute, the celebration, a quick celebration, “it can’t last long”, warned a serious old man. There were three minutes to finish of the match, the aestateans finally commemorated, singing the “Hallelujah” chorus, “We don’t have the worst soccer team in the world”, said a happy fan, “They’re only one of the worst teams”, completed. “Soldati saved us again, with this 1-0 against Bostopia”, analyzed a fan.

To celebrate, the aestateans are going to various festivals in Portus Cale, “Ma’am, we probably won’t have a next victory. We need to celebrate now. Come on”, justified an agitated boy. On Flavum beach, a crowd will be gathering, “The Beach Festival was biggest ten years ago, but I think is still the best music event in Aestate”, explained a local woman. It’s expecting eight shows today at the Beach Festival, “Probably, it’ll end with the sunrise”, said the organizer. But in the Piazze di Acco will have events too, “This year, the Acco Festival will be bigger. We got big sponsorships. And now, a most import element is the competition for the international attention”, boasted a local businessman.

World Cup 70 - RP Thread

Part XI

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