The Ides of March Cup

[Astograth]

IDES OF MARCH CUP
Edition III

Iturributa United 1-1 Jan Mayen Islanders
(2-2 AET, 5-4 PKs)

[Polar Islandstates]

Tomas Aer leaned towards Cone on the plane home, he was feeling fidgetty, and craning his neck over Cone's newspaper supplement to see out of the window was getting tiring.

"Cone, Cone, hey Cone, Cone. Cone? Cone."

Raising his eyebrows and lifting his gaze from the supplement, Cone faced forwards, then slowly turned to face his strike partner. Rather than answering, he raised an eyebrow. Undeterred, Aer continued on his enthusiastic tirade of speech.

"Cone, hey, well, what I was wondering was, should we be consoling Mathias for his penalty miss? Or maybe be spending our time better congratulating Eygenroy for his free kick goal in the first half? Or maybe even trying to tell Helguson that him getting sent off didn't lose us the match? I mean, that first half was pretty turbulent, Eygenroy's free kick was quite something, and then Bularte's equaliser left Mathias with no chance - he's quite a player wouldn't you say? And then that second half, wow. I know I didn't score but I think I contributed pretty well yeah?"

Cone said nothing, but instead rustled his supplement impatiently whilst staring unimpressed over the top of the article he was attempting to read.

"And I mean, I know the second half finished goalless, but it was still pretty excited. End to end stuff until Helguson lost his head and committed that second bookable offence. I sure hope he isn't beating himself up too much about that, they were mistakes he was forced into making really. And the defence held so well after that! Niko really is one hell of a player. So proud to be on the same team as that guy. Wasn't until the extra time we got some more goals. You know, great goal and all that, but I really thought we could have stolen that after you scored it. Lja's cross to you was pretty magnificent as well. Ah, but your finish, the way you tapped it down and slotted it under the keeper after wrong-footing him. I'm learning so much from you everyday man, I really am."

Cone signed, and looked up with pursed lips, exasperated at the rambling and excited youngster sat next to him. All of the other players were asleep, sleeping off their defeat on the red-eye back to Jan Mayen. All apart from a few anyway. Mathias and Helguson were sharing a bag of popcorn whilst not really watching the film at the back of the plane. Cone wished he was sat next to one of the sleeping players. Or Koch, even Koch, who would no doubt be re-drawing tactical drawings over and over. Anything but this little odd strike partner of his, babbling on to himself and rolling his head and waving his hands around.

"But their equaliser, to come back twice like that showed guts, and Bielsen did so well to win that ball. I could have done better I suppose, well, probably should have done more tracking back, but that Gianluigi's dribble was pretty damn fly. And then to penalties! Oh man, I've never been in a penalty shoot out like that before. All those goals, Mathias didn't save a thing poor guy, and then we all scored as well. First Niko, then Dietar, then you, then me, then Mathias had to step up and, aw man I just feel so bad for him. And- hey, Cone, you listening, you still with me buddy? Cone?"

Cone swivelled his head once more to look at Tomas. Normally he got along with the guy fine, but this was, well, what was the word? Well i was almost like a fatherly acceptance of Tomas' hyperactive behaviour. Raising his eyebrow once more, Tomas took the cue to continue.

"Well, what I was thinking was like, should I go and console Helguson?"

Cone stared back.

"Or maybe like, slip Eygenroy a thumbs-up?"

Cone stared back.

"Yeah, yeah I guess so. Maybe I should see how Mathias is feeling? That better?"

Again, Cone stared back.

"Gotcha." Turning to the back of the chair in front of him, Tomas looked up then down again, itching the back of his hand nervously. "Maybe I'll go see what the guys are watching at the back." And with that, Tomas slipped out of his chair and walked towards the back of the plane.

Cone turned back to face front, and raised an eyebrow once more. He turned back to the start of the article, he'd completely lost his place with Aer's ramblings. Time to start it from the beginning again, quietly contemplate a medal chance lost, and mentally prepare for the TQCC as the plane continued its way through the night, back to Jan Mayen.

[Astograth]

The whistle blew, and Estebe Bularte put his hands on his hips and lowered his gaze. His shirt was soaked, his legs and feet ached, his head throbbed and his breath came in short, ragged gasps. If 90 minutes were tough, 120 were hell. Two whole hours of running and jostling, sometimes kicking, almost always behind in the score. And it still wasn't over.

He walked slowly to the bench, where the team was huddled drinking water and recieving encouragement from Sakona and the manager. Stay calm, we're stronger than them, kick it with power, don't think about it too much...generic stuff that Bularte'd heard a million times already. Taking a step back from the group, he took a moment to look up and marvel at the crowd. The stadium was decked out in white and red that night, with only the East End, Sporting's end, coloured purple. The West End was a party, with drums and flares that the fans always found a way to sneak past security. The main and rear stands were calm, but expectant. Unsettled by the dreaded shootout.

"Estebe. Do you want to take the fifth?"

Bularte turned back to his teammates, all now looking at him.

"The fifth penalty?" he asked Sakona, raising his eyebrows. If they got that far, it was a big responsibility.

"Yeah, the last one. You up for it?" said the captain, leaning his head slightly to the side.

The playmaker swallowed hard, before agreeing with a nod. He'd never taken a competitive penalty, and now he was told to kick the most decisive one. A great honour...and a great burden.

They lined up at the center circle, forming a chain with their arms over their shoulders. Baranzano stepped up to take the first, as Mathiak Marek stood in front of the West End. Bularte'd heard he was a penalty specialist, beating him wouldn't be easy.

Baranzano ran up, and to just about everyone's relief kicked it neatly into the right corner. Then, strangely enough, the other Marek stepped up. He was a defender, supposedly, but didn't look the part at all when he slammed it into the left of Sakona's net. Next Oidor, having been brought on in the second half for Biteri, did the same. Eygenroy, scorer of the first goal of the match, put the ball into the lower left corner. Bularte gritted his teeth. Now he'd have to kick it, no matter what.

Bielsen kicked it strong and down the middle, with Marek diving right and cursing his luck for a good while afterwards. Then their Cafundelense, Cone, powered it into the right, sending Sakona to the left. Neither keeper looked very secure, pressure was getting to them.

Or at least, so it seemed until Gianluigi's shot, which Marek got a hand to but couldn't save. The Erathi returned to the center visibly shaken, with his hands over his face. The young Aer then calmly beat Sakona, and Bularte suddenly found himself walking to the box.

The distance felt longer than ever before, and he felt all eyes on him. All hopes on him. His hands shook slightly as the took the ball from the referee and placed it on the spot. Marek stood before him, observing his every moment.

He stood back, and hastily decided to aim for the top right corner. No, he wasn't crazy enough to chip it. Top right corner, yes. His eyesight swam. The whistle blew.

He ran up, kicked the ball and raised his fist in triumph as the shot went in just fine. He walked back, massively relieved, and looked on in surprise as the Polarian keeper prepared to kick the penalty. If he missed, Jan Mayen lost. If he scored, it was on to sudden death. Either way, the pressure on him was greater than on anyone else, and Bularte had to admit the man had guts.

Marek shot low, and just barely struck the left post.

Bularte couldn't remember a louder roar in Old City Stadium as they ran to celebrate, Marek lying dejectedly nearby.

[Polar Islandstates]

Announcement, Edition IV

[Polar Islandstates]

Roster


Starting Line Up
----------------------- de Zooijt -----------------------
- Enderslakke - Gyulla - Kowalski - Marveau-Kahn -
----------------------- Arribagé -----------------------
------------------ Petrovic ---- Irvin ------------------
--------------------- Ljusnarsson ---------------------
--------------- Blonqvist ---- Berghoff ---------------

GK- Demy de Zooijt
DR- Mark Enderslakke
DC- Ole Gyulla
DC- Jan Kowalski
DL- Petter Marveau-Kahn
DMC- Pierre Arribagé
MC - Bogdan Petrovic
MC- Ty Irvin
AMC- Timo Ljusnarsson
ST- Henning Blonqvist (C)
ST- Wilhelm Berghoff

Subs:
GK- Steffan Pedersen
DC- Stanislav Dahl
DL- Luka Baalsen
ML - Iosef Sondergaard
MR- Vagn Skovbrandt
MC- Hans van Ellson
ST- Diedrich Kvitchenko
Manager - Magnus Fjelden

Modifier: 0

After having to sit by and watch their fierce rivals SK pick up successive league titles at the start of the Federation League, East Franz Athletic will be delighted to have the chance to finally contest their own Ides of March Cup since famously winning the league themselves. This historic club is based in the industrial and working class district of Rendahl, in the east of Franz Josef City, over the Elfsteijn Channel from the rest of the city, and in particular, SK Franz Josef City. East Franz fans are a strong and passionate bunch, driven by their desire to win more trophies than SK, and empowered by the strong sense of camaraderie they feel towards each other.

Rendahl Stadion

The setting for their first foray into the Ides of March tradition? Rendahl Stadion. This iconic stadium is steeped in history, with the new stands being built on top of the old stands. The Four Spires of Rendahl refer back to the original four corner flags used by the pioneering founders of the club in their first ever match, against SK. Legend has it that with night about to fall, and the pitch a simply marked patch of scrub in the industrial district of Rendahl, the founding fathers of East Franz Athletic lit the flags, and placed flares on top of the poles so that the game could continue. East Franz won 4-1. Today, this legend continues with the Four Spires, that light up every night, and throughout the endless night of winter.

In goal for the Spires is young Mytanar Demy de Zooijt. Performing a series of acrombatic saves all season, thins young keeper hit the form of his life this last season, and whilst the switch to a more defensive formation may have helped considerably, his proactive keeping style has won him many plaudits amongst the analysts. A good keeper is nothing without a strong defence in front of him however, and in Gyulla and Kowalski he found one, forcing the young prospect of Dahl onto the bench for most of the season with their fine partnership. The narrow 4-1-2-1-2 formation leaves plenty of space in front of the wing-backs to run into, a fact that both Marveau-Kahn and Enderslakke exploit with every opportunity. Watch out, too, for young Luka Baalsen, who has U-21 caps for the Terns, to appear from the bench.

In the midfield, the signing of Pierre Arribagé ensures a tough obstacle is faced even before the defence is reached, a fact that surely contributed to the stunning amount of clean sheets kept last season by the Spires. Bogdan Petrovic and Ty Irvin form the engineroom of the East Franz formation, with their short, sharp interchanging of passes and position keeping opponents on their toes and possession in the hands of the Spires. These two will never stop running and tackling, and are always looking to slot the ball through to main playmaker, Ljusnarsson. Wingers Skovbrandt and Sondergaard offer versatility from the bench and can torment tired legs with their raw pace.

Up front, club captain Henning Blonqvist and Swatazian striker Wilhelm Berghoff have formed and incredible partnership, scoring 46 goals between them last season. They have a near telepathic ability to know where the other is, and can freely adapt their roles within the formation at any point during the game, both being solid all rounders. Diedrich Kvitchenko is a good prospect for the future though, and with five goals to his name in East Franz colours already, could be one for the future.

Where Jan Mayen Islanders failed twice to Iturributa United, with East Franz Athletic prevail over Sporting Iturributa? Time will tell.

Kit:

[Astograth]

Sporting Iturributa
Manager: Egoi Azarola
Style: -2
Colours

-------------------- Aira --------------------
- Dorregaray - Burruchaga - Echebarria - Irisarri -
---------- Ouellette --- Oramuno ------------
---- Zomoza ------------------- Pizan ----
---------- Didi --- Brexio ----------

Starting XI:
GK - Zernin Aira (C)
LB - Otz Irisarri
CB - Sotil Burruchaga
CB - Erramun Echebarria
RB - Eneko Dorregaray
DM - Gartzi Oramuno
DM - Bernard Ouellette
LM - Gito Pizan
RM - Lartaun Zomoza
CF - Victor Brexio
CF - Didi

Substitutes:
GK - Aztore Irungarai
DF - Cherran Zarranz
DF - Goitz Berastegi
MF - Urtzin Yauregi
MF - Ilixo Akutain
ST - Gaizkine Liroz
ST - Bayardo Urruzuno

Sporting Iturributa touched the sky last season, dethroning the reviled Iturributa United as league champions and achieving the balance between defense and offense the fans had wanted for years. Tied for third as the team with the most goals scored, and tied with Wanderers as the team with the least goals conceded, Sporting are lethal up front and impenetrable at the back.

Zernin Aira was a key man in this rebirth. Aged only 25, he was handed the captain's armband following the retirement of striker Endira Berrioz due to his driven personality and his experience as the national team's starting goalkeeper. He didn't just not disappoint, he cemented himself as the best keeper the Astograthian league has seen. He consistently turned in Man of the Match performances, winning over the crowd and reportedly being the biggest motivator in the squad. Enough for him to be named Player of the Season, a spectacularly rare award for a goalkeeper.

The left-back will be the veteran Otz Irisarri, who is soon to turn 35 yet still looks to have another season in him. The opposite is true for the centre-backs, as Echebarria and Burruchaga are only 20 and 22 respectively yet display an unusual grade of maturity. Additionally, the former is a current U-21 national team player, and the latter is in Astograth's World Cup 56 squad. Eneko Dorregaray, playing down the right, narrowly missed out on making Olibondeka, but 12 caps are certainly something to be proud of. Brought in from Urbizania Wanderers last season to make up for Elatzar Orbizo's departure, his performances have been most satisfactory.

Gartzi Oramuno and Bernard Ouellette will be the defensive midfielders on the night. Both are essential in Egoi Azarola's strategy, as the strikers and wingers tend to advance and leave the centre of the pitch vulnerable to a counter-attack. The Cotdelapomais, released from Série A's Cosmopolitan, was signed for his experience and proved invaluable in the acquisition of the title with a commanding presence and excellent anticipation.

The Erathi Gito Pizan, the only foreigner to have been in the team for more than one season, is an expert at dismantling the defense down the left wing with his unpredictability. Lartaun Zomoza, with a couple of hard-earned caps to his name, is not as fast as he used to be and prefers to swing in early crosses and act as a dummy runner.

Up front will be the Cafundelense Dirson Couto Zapete, better known as "Didi", and the Erathi Victor Brexio. Despite allegedly being past his prime, which included a call-up to the Cafundéu national team during World Cup 51, Didi's signing was considered a huge one across the nation. Despite being short and 33, the striker is still devilishly fast and lethal when finishing, a fact highlighted by his 22 league goals and the ensuing Silver Boot award. His attitude is also highly confrontational, an expert at provoking defenders and getting them sent off. Brexio is a similar kind of player to Didi: swift and deadly, but with added height and heading ability. Singled out as one of the best young players in Astograth, the former Scion FC forward has formed an impressive partnership with the Cafundelense.

Fans of the Chevrons travel to Franz Josef City (or Frank Joseph City, as it were) with high hopes and underlying anxiety. Should they fail to capture the Ides of March Cup, they'll never hear the end of it from the Iturributa United crowd.

[Polar Islandstates]

IDES OF MARCH CUP
Edition IV

East Franz Athletic 1-0 Sporting Iturributa

[Astograth]

Zernin Aira took a final drink from his water bottle and tossed it into the corner of the goal, ignoring the jeers from the East Franz fans behind it. While the linesman finished checking the net, he jumped a few times and tapped the posts three times each as a good luck charm. He doubted its effectiveness, but it was his custom and the press loved it. It wasn't nearly as odd as Larretape's, at least, which included arriving at the stadium by taxi, washing his gloves personally before and after every match and touching the crossbar with his elbows.

Didi and Brexio stood at the centre-circle and the atmosphere in Rendahl Stadion intensified when they got the ball rolling to start the second half. In nought but a few moments Aira found himself recieving a short, lazy pass from Irisarri amidst widespread boos, which only grew louder when he played the same pass for Burruchaga. This was good. The opposition, moved by their crowd, would lose patience and start making mistakes, which Sporting would then exploit. In theory, as Azarola concieved it and had taught them for the better part of a decade, it was perfect. In practice, the two defensive midfielders weren't skillful enough for it to work every time.

And, of course, everybody but Sporting fans hated it. Aira personally didn't care for it very much, because even being called on to save less meant he was fairly untested when forced to. This thought sprung into his mind about five minutes into the second half, when Arribagé took possession with a neat sliding tackle on Pizan, which didn't keep the Erathi from writhing on the ground.

Aira took a few steps back from the edge of the box, and yelled at Burruchaga to stick closer to Blonqvist. He clenched his jaw and started walking on his toes when Ljusnarsson took control of the ball and made a run for goal. Though Dorregaray outmuscled him, the crowd cheered when the playmaker's last touch sent it to the unprotected wing for Marveau-Kahn to pick up. The Astograthian right-back turned to cut him off, but was left looking like a fool when Ljusnarsson recieved it back.

Echebarria, who had run up to the attacking midfielder, could only follow from behind as he entered the box and sped for the keeper's right post. Aira spotted Blonqvist off to his left, marked by an increasingly troubled Burruchaga, but Berghoff being out of view made him uneasy. Needing to act fast, he threw his doubts to the wind and dived at Ljusnarsson's feet, but not quickly enough to keep the shot from being fired.

The ball slammed into his legs and flew towards the far post. It was going wide, but Berghoff and Irisarri were both trying to reach it, grabbing each other's jerseys in the meantime. Wasting no time Aira picked himself up and ran, diving with his body fully stretched a moment before he saw the Polarian get a touch in.

The crowd's roar died out with a gasp, but he could feel the bench and Sporting fans everywhere crying out in joy. It didn't bother the keeper that no scoresheet would bear witness to a save like that, for greatness would always find a place in the people's collective memory. Yeah, it was a pretty neat quote he'd read in the newspaper, by some goalkeeper turned sports columnist.

He focused on organizing his defense for the corner, and was pleased to see Burruchaga had already made sure everyone was in place. The man himself had turned into Blonqvist's shadow, not allowing him an inch.

But it turns out great players don't need an inch.

The corner swung in to the first post and the striker headed it back, where his partner awaited. The ball had bounced on the grass by the time Aira realized what was going on, and he could only fling himself to the right as Berghoff scored the winner.

[Polar Islandstates]

Announcement, Edition V

[Polar Islandstates]

Roster


Starting Line Up
-----------------Andreasson-----------------
----Urz---Ljungberg---Berg---Forsberg----
--------------------Potter---------------------
---Kjaer-----------Sivoli--------Fjorissen---
------------Ormache----Irndtor--------------

GK: Atle Andreasson
DR: Hannes Urz (MYT)
DC: Maarten Berg
DC: Sander Ljungberg
DL: Gaspar Meolans (AGU)
DMC: Graham Potter (QPM)
RM: Jon Kjaer
AMC: Tomas Sivoli (MYT)
LM: Petter Fjorissen
ST: Amadeus Irndtor
ST: Dei Ormache (AST) (C)

Subs:
GK: Timothée Riopel (CDP)
DC: Bobó (CAF)
DR: Thor Lossler
DL: Benedikt Forsberg
DMC: Arnur Jarntur
AMC: Diedtmarr Erasmus
ST: Sami Wunderlich (MYT)
Manager - Teemu Johansson

Modifier: +2

SK Franz Josef City travel to Ituraitz this time, having reclaimed the league title they see as rightfully theirs for the first time since their first Ides of March appearance in Rumiatzi. Much has changed in both the league and the team since then, and with firece cross town rivals East Franz Athletic triumphing in this very cup last season, SK fans will be determined to see their band of heroes take back some silverware at the end of 90 minutes.

Returning from an injury-plagued season to hesitantly take his place in goal is Atle Andreasson, whose Cotdelapomais understudy Timothée Riopel has been making great strides forward recently, showing the promise that saw SK scouts suggest him to the club come to fruit. Thrust in at the deep end is new signing Hannes Urz of Mytannion, making his first apprearance following the departure of Petter Nikkel to Erathore. The vetern Berg and future star Ljungberg sit in the centre of the defence, with the ever dependable Gaspar Meolans filling the left back slot. Graham Potter, the QPeMA veteran, sits in the hole in front of defence, and with his replacement on the bench "only" Arnur Jarntur, this is perhaps an area that the Griffons will be looking to invest in in the near future.

The attack is where SK's strengths lie however, with five excellent players all waiting to attack at any opportunity. Sitting in the middle is young Mytanar Tomas Sivoli, whose attacking displays brought him many accolades throughout the season. He will be looking to spread it out to either wing into the feet of the fleet-fotted Kjaer and Fjorissen, the same wingers as the last time SK contested the cup. Up front is Polarian poacher Irndtor, fast and tall, and Astograthi club-legend Dei Ormache, who on returning to the club SK bought him from, will captain the side for the match in what will surely be an emotional moment for him. SK's leading scorer of the FPIFA era - he surpassed Timo Skye some time ago now - the stocky Ormache is adored by SK's fans, and he is a leading figure of the game in the Federation League. Mytanar striker Sami Wunderlich has a clutch of national caps to his name, and can always cause problems from the bench.

Kit:

[Astograth]

Ituraitz FC
Manager: Domeka Iriarte
Style: +1
Colours

------------------ Barrueta ------------------
- Lazr -- Oidor - Erburu -- Karrikart -
- Mendikoa --- Olibarri - Uhalt --- Maruri -
---------- Oramuno --- Taggliafico ----------

Starting XI:
GK - Astigar Barrueta
LB - Odon Karrikart
CB - Milian Erburu (C)
CB - Emaut Oidor
RB - Kenny Lazr
LM - Eneko Maruri
CM - Artzeiz Uhalt
CM - Urdin Olibarri
RM - Lukar Mendikoa
CF - Fabián Taggliafico
CF - Zilar Oramuno

Substitutes:
GK - Idoeta Berriochea
DF - Eigiguren Yazkia
DF - Bakar Gandiaga
MF - Urdaspal Treto
MF - Ortzi Sarria
ST - Unaut Nanklares
ST - Intza Basurto

Ituraitz FC last won the Astograthian First Division five seasons ago, over a year before the first Ides of March Cup was contested between Royal Rumiatzi and SK Franz Josef City at Grand Duke's Stadium. Of that star-studded team, which featured winger and captain Laurgain Erlis, set-piece specialist Egerdi Bordato, fearsome forwards Dei Ormache and Soter Sarlange, and rock-solid centre-back Milian Erburu, only Erburu and a few others remain. Retirements and transfers resulted in a number of mediocre seasons, Gorriaka even finishing seventh before bouncing right back and winning not only their second league title but also their third Royal Cup. The fans are expectant, not only because they look forward to securing an unprecedented triple, but because a familiar face will be leading the Griffons into battle. Dei Ormache, joint most-capped player for the Astograthian national team and an Ituraitzi legend following his league and cup-winning exploits, has replicated his success in the Polarian league and will no doubt encounter mixed feelings as he returns home as the adversary.

The site of this titanic struggle will be the Ituraitz Sporting Ground. Located on a rare strip of level ground amidst the steep hills of the coastal Ituraitz, the multi-purpose stadium holds 63 thousand people and is used as home ground by the city's most popular teams: Ituraitz FC and their rivals Ituraitz Victory. On the international scene it has witnessed five Astograthian national team matches; it was also selected as a Cup of Harmony 48 venue, seeing Group G action and the quarter-final match between Akbarabad and eventual champions Cafundéu. Though there are frequent complaints from visitors about the low angle of the stands and the athletics track, the Ituraitzi have become used to it and accept it as inevitable; space is restricted and they'd have to travel to the outskirts to see their team play otherwise. Of note is the modern roofing and the low amount of VIP boxes; the ground's basic structure has remained completely unchanged for over eighty years.

In goal for Ituraitz will be Astigar Barrueta, an agile keeper who has performed satisfactorily since the departure of Lapurdi Abaitua and is in no real risk of losing his place to Berriochea. Helping him out at the back will be full-backs Odon Karrikart and the Mytanar Kenny Lazr, who are better known for their strength and passing game than for their projection down the wings, as well as the centre-back duo of Emaut Oidor and Milian Erburu. The latter was recently chosen Player of the Season for his leadership, which rallied Ituraitz more than once, his excellent tackling ability and exceptional anticipation, always knowing where to be in order to intercept the cross or steal the ball from the striker's feet. Tall and burly, he commands respect and has earned an impressive 82 caps for the national team.

In the centre midfield we'll find Artzeiz Uhalt, a long-time squad member and vicious yet effective ball-winner, accompanied by Urdin Olibarri. The former Iturributa United man has made himself very much at home in Ituraitz, taking on the role of playmaker and developing a healthy partnership with Uhalt. The wingers on the night will be the slow, ponderous Eneko Maruri on the left and the unbelievably swift Lukar Mendikoa down the right, which combines to make the formation unbalanced as is manager Iriarte's signature style.

Up front is the striking duo of Zilar Oramuno and Fabián Taggliafico from Seleucius. There are pairs of forwards who know each other inside out, expertly playing passes into space for their teammate to ram it home...this is the pretty much the exact opposite. Oramuno and Taggliafico don't get along at all and run into communication problems so often that they just give up and go it alone. Of the two, the Seleucid is clearly the player most suited for this, as his 23 league goals in the past season will show. With pace and quick feet he leaves defenders, and sometimes the keeper, trailing. Oramuno is a more traditional centre-forward who needs the ball passed to him just right in order to head in the goal or slip it past the goalkeeper with impeccable composure. Waiting their turn on the bench will be Intza Basurto and the veteran Unaut Nanklares, who are also quality strikers and can be counted upon to wrap up matches.

It looks set to be a real thriller in Ituraitz this year, with Ormache's presence in particular raising the stakes to a personal level the Ides of March Cup has never seen before.

[Polar Islandstates]

Dei Ormache wandered the centre circle. This Sporting Ground was his territory, in many ways. For Ituraitz FC, against Victory, and even for Astograth, he had walked this grass and ruled it. That title, claimed here with an important victory over Sporting Iturributa, still rang fresh in his mind. His goal, Soter's goal, Erburu's header and Bordato's free kick, each one played like a well worn cassette, flickering and frayed at the edges.

This turf, Ormache bent down to feel it between his fingers, this turf felt the same. Of course, it will have been replaced many time over the years, but like this old stadium, it felt as comfortable as an old pair of jogging bottoms. Instantly familiar, and a comfortable fit. How the fans would react to any goals he scored against his old team was a topic for the night itself, but he knew he wouldn't be celebrating. No, as far as the fans were concerned, he was still legend for Ituraitz, he wouldn't want to cheapen the moment by celebrating any goals he managed to score. He would be wearing the captain's armband for SK tonight, and an immense swell of pride still rose up within him when he thought about it. A nod and a pat on the shoulder from Berg as soon as the match was arranged, and he knew that was that. Leading out his team against the side where he made his name, there could be little better experience. He was only young still, but in some ways it felt like a testimonial.

Yes, Dei felt at home here, always did. And hopefully, unless he scored a hat trick, always would.

It felt good to be winning the league again. They'd won the Latitude Cup twice during their time absent from the top of the league, but the league was what everyone wanted to win really, bringing with it the TQCC spot as it did. Not that this had helped them much this cycle, but next time, well, next time... Of course, with the extra TQCC spot the league had acquired through its strong performance, even second place got you a berth. But winning the title meant a spot in the Ides of March. And that's what Dei wanted. Sitting it out whilst Jan Mayen Islanders were getting beaten twice in a row by Iturributa United had stung, especially when he knew that SK had a 100% record from their one appearance in the title so far. So when Ituraitz sealed the Astograthi title, he celebrated almost as much as he had done seeing Berg lift the trophy in Franz Josef.

He turned, and started walking towards the tunnel. There was a match to prepare for,, one of the biggest matches of his career. Emotionally, physically, competitively. Dei Ormache was back in Ituraitz, stop the presses.

[Astograth]

"So then he runs up to the purple door, and opens it, but the peanut's still following him..."

Milian Erburu put down his glass and smiled as Ormache continued telling his joke, Erlis paying close attention and nodding occasionally. They'd gathered in their favourite pub in Ituraitz the night before the match, catching up and remembering old times. Just the three of them, best friends and stars of that league and cup-winning team that had taken Astograth by storm. Soter Sarlange would've made it four (the Fantastic Four, as the media called them), but he had matches to play and state championships to narrowly miss winning in the distant Cafundéu.

"...'I've never seen that hippo in my life!' she says, so then he takes..."

Ormache hadn't changed much, or perhaps he had and being with him on the national team impeded him from noticing. Full of joy and mischief off the pitch, not helped by his somewhat comical height and weight, his attitude transformed into one of passion and dedication when he came out to play. He would enthusiastically celebrate his goals, smashing the corner flag and coming as close to the crowd as possible. When he'd scored the title-clincher against Sporting in Ituraitz he'd jumped out onto the track and held his arms aloft as the fans went wild and photographers surrounded him. Bookings were a small price to pay for moments like that.

"...outside the window and sees a brick, so he calls out for the..."

Erlis had changed, no doubt about that. None of the Kuril seaplane disaster survivors had spoken publicly about what they'd experienced on that island, and perhaps it was better for everyone that it remained so, but the fact was that the retired winger seemed to be a lot more open and compassionate after the incident. Erburu knew he'd never been a cold person, and was indeed aware Erlis had suffered when chastised by the fans for not bursting in tears and waving his shirt around when they'd won the league, except now he would actually ask about your health instead of just keeping his worries to himself.

"...sea cucumber, but he hasn't seen no sea cucumber, so he goes and asks the bicycle..."

Had Erburu himself changed? Possibly. Probably, in fact. The team captaincy had done wonders for him, giving him a confidence and leadership boost that had really improved his game. Commanding the defence wasn't quite the same thing when you bore the captain's armband than when you did, and lifting trophies felt like a fitting reward for having stuck with the team through the good and bad times despite offers from abroad. He'd denied it in the media, but the rumours linking him to FKM had been true, and he prided himself in not batting an eyelash when faced with the obscene amounts of money they intended to pay him. How many Astograthians had that insane magnate brought into the club? 4? 5? Unzueta wouldn't stop speaking wonders of it, but he was suspicious of that club nonetheless.

"...the Mytanar offers his leg, the Citiz his arm, and the Astograthian just..."

Erburu liked to think about all the different paths player's lives can take. He was still here in Ituraitz, Erlis had been retired for a while and Ormache and Sarlange were still banging in goals on greener pastures. Abaitua, that irascible yet undeniably charming keeper of theirs, had left for the Polarian league; that once-brilliant right-back Alzate was wearing out the last of his talent in Second Division; Beitia had completely dropped off his radar, presumably in the second-tier as well; Luro had retired...what had happened to Oyarzun, that striker from Victory who'd a pain to mark?

"...points out of the window at the unfamiliar countryside below and exclaims, 'No soap... radio?'"

Erlis roared and Erburu made a conscious effort to chuckle a bit, incapable of forgetting he'd be the one marking Ormache tomorrow. They'd never played against each other, and he had mixed feelings about it. On one hand, it would be a delicious challenge. On the other, he didn't want to ruin their friendship with some heat-of-the-moment remark or by, God forbid, injuring him.

Then again, he really wanted to win that shiny cup.

[Astograth]

IDES OF MARCH CUP
Edition V

Ituraitz FC 2–2 SK Franz Josef City
(4–2 AET)

[Polar Islandstates]

2-1 down. A ticking clock. Ormache was feeling the pressure, everybody was. Erasmus was on. Wunderlich was on. 3-4-3, and the 4 were an attacking 4, was the formation as the Griffons desperately fought to win a goal back and take the match into extra time. Only a few minutes remained, surely they would be able to find a way through soon? He glanced back up at the clock. He knew the clock well, he'd looked at it counting down the seconds hundreds of times in his career, and it had this habit of never seeming to have the amount of time left that you wanted. Minutes and minutes when you were clinging on, and yet only seconds when you craved for minutes. Time was running out.

He needed to find a way around Erburu again. He'd only managed it once so far, and had unselfishly played to ball square for Irndtor for a simple tap-in. As much as Ormache dearly longed for a goal tonight, Irndtor was open and he had to do what was best for the tea. He'd received a hero's welcome from the Ituraitz crowd, his appearance captaining his new squad against his old had been news all over the country, and thousands upon thousands had turned up to see him, which was humbling in a way. He almost felt like some of the Ituraitz fans would celebrate a goal if he scored one, and were almost willing him on to reproduce another piece of Ormache-magic. The Wizard, they'd called him at one point, always seeming to conjure goals up from nowhere just when one was needed. And boy did he need one now.

Erburu grinned as hi dispossessed Ormache once more as he looked to play in Wunderlich and offer the one-two. That little... The thought caught in Dei's mind. Not now. Don't get mad now. Instead he looked back. Johansson was urging his team forwards, and Ljungberg, collecting Erburu's clearance on his own in the centre defence, looked up before hitting an ambitious long ball for Sivoli. There was no way in hell the young Mytanar was going to get that, was he?

A slip from Uhalt, and all of a sudden, Sivoli had the ball at his ever dangerous feet in the middle of the park. One stepover, a drop of the shoulders and he was off. Accelerating down the wing, he played a one-two with Erasmus, and played the ball for Kjaer to run onto. Stop. Look up. Burst of pace, and Kjaer cut inside. Ormache began drifting almost automatically into the right position. The cross came in. Wunderlich headed the ball goalwards, palmed away by Barrueta. The ball fell to Ormache. He tapped the ball forwards into the air, everybody in the stadium watched with baited breath as Erburu hurtled towards him on the edge of the box, trying to offer the deflection target just as Ormache lifted his body off the air and hit the half volley.

The ball cannoned into the goal, hammering off the post before whipping round the net behind a Barrueta who didn't even move. The SK fans went wild. The Ituraitz fans barely begrudged their old hero the goal. But Ormache didn't celebrate.

And not for the noble reason he had promised himself before the match.

On his way back down to earth, Ormache's right heel had caught the outstretched thigh of Erburu, still sprawled from trying to block the shot. His body continued towards the earth, but his right foot was already there, flat, with studs gripping into the soil, far earlier than his body had intended. With no tension or resistance prepared in his thigh, his body crumpled onto the limb that was supposed to be holding his weight. Ormache ending up in some sort of bizarre squatting position, his right leg folded uncomfortably underneath him, his left leg stretched out behind him. He could immediately tell there was a problem.

As his teammates rushed towards him to celebrate what was surely him taking the goal into extra time, Ormache could not stand up. He lay down and clasped hands with his now worried teammates, and signalled to the bench.

Five minutes of treatment later, he was helped off the pitch by the physio. His right thigh had gone. Pulled awkwardly and painfully by his unusual fall to earth. Johansson looked on worried, his team would be playing with only ten men now for the whole of extra time - he had used up all of his substitutes.

Back on the pitch, Ituraitz kicked off again, but Erburu's attentions weren't on the on-pitch action. Watching with heavy heart as he saw his friend and former colleague Ormache helped down the tunnel straight to the treatment room he couldn't help but feel guilty. Sure, he hadn't done anything intentionally, but he was still feeling responsible. He rubbed his own thigh. Two stud marks - nothing that wouldn't bruise over and heal in a matter of days - two weeks at most. And yet there went Ormache. He's fought his friend several times on the pitch tonight, and was happy to admit that when it counted - he had been beaten. But he didn't want it to end like this, his opponent hobbling off with the type of injury that could be as innocuous as it looked or could so easily be a serious one.

The referee blew for the end of the ninety minutes, but neither Erburu or Ormache heard it properly.

[Astograth]

"Aqui estamos nós com a quinta edição da Copa del idos de Março!"

Soter Sarlange sat back and breathed a deep sigh of relief. He'd spent hours searching for a way to watch it live. First he'd skimmed the list of channels and just ordered the one that offered "O melhor futebol do mundo!", only to find out later that it was actually dedicated to a detailed analysis of the Primeirona instead of Astograthian football. Outraged, he'd picked up the phone only to spend an eternity listening to pre-recorded messages before talking to an unintelligible customer services attendant.

Disgusted, he'd picked up his thick satellite TV booklet and scoured the programming of each of the 1,093 sports channels before finding the one dedicated to "Diversos torneios internacionais" that featured, in a footnote, this year's Ides of March Cup. He'd have to bear the disinterested Cafundelense commentators, but then he could always mute them.

Right, teams on the pitch. The Sporting Ground looking as good as always. Closeup of an emotional Ormache. Managers shaking hands. Terrific. What, moment of silence? What for? Get on with it already! Oh, the Ituraitz FC anthem composer...right...sure.

Sarlange wasn't in the best of moods at such an ungodly hour, and the swearing began as soon as possession was lost. That Taggliafico in particular got on his nerves. Wearing the #9 shirt just like that, like it's nothing, only ever scoring in the easy matches...weedy, slimy fellow in his opinion.

Naturally, he opened the score after Olibarri let a low cross from Maruri go past him for the Seleucid to blast it into the net from the penalty spot, and Sarlange fumed while the Cafundelense let out his goal shout and Taggliafico said something to the camera. He had to make a conscious effort not to fling something at his HD home theatre.

Almost half-time and Ormache flew past the defense for Irndtor to tap it in. Oh, for - gah! Screw it, they were doing it again. Throwing chances out the window like that. Who were they kidding? They'd just go back to being seventh in the league, playing like this. Damn it.

He stood up and paced the room, taking deep breaths like his doctor had taught him. Inhale, exhale. Slowly. Good. He distracted himself by looking at the framed kits on the wall. Two #9s from his stint at Ituraitz, Petardos S/A's Hawk's #10, Fuşia Oujadda's shirt from Ranca Toco, Clive Costly's from Cafundó do Juta...he stopped in front of Timo Skye's, and got goosebumps when he remembered that moment.

It had been after the mid-qualifying international friendly they'd played in memory of the Khuril seaplane disaster. The final whistle had sounded and the stadium had been nothing but applause. He recalled Bularte squatting down in the centre-circle, alone. The other players, swapping shirts and walking around the pitch. Sarlange didn't do that, usually, so he'd walked straight towards the dressing rooms. As he stepped past Treko, his head bent, he'd noticed someone to his right. Looking up, he'd met the piercing eyes of Timo Skye, also headed for the dressing room. They'd stopped and looked each other over. Each a top scorer, each world-class. They'd traded shirts and gone their separate ways without a word.

Sarlange still didn't know why. Only that if there was one man in this world he respected, it was Timo Skye.

Second half, and Mendikoa rammed the ball deep into the net after only a few minutes. He'd gone wild then. Good lad, that Mendikoa. Settling down, he'd returned to his routine of threats and insults as they struggled to hang onto the lead. What was Iriarte doing? A defender on for a midfielder? Come on, they could hit them with a couple more still! Just take off Taggliafico and bring on his old strike partner, Basurto...

The clock wound down. He could almost feel himself lifting the trophy. It was sublime, it was - what're you doing, Uhalt? Damn it! No! You can't slip like that, you Gortzian keel-hauler! Now stop him, Lazr, no, that's -

He stopped dead in his tracks. Partly because Ormache had just scored a beatiful half volley, partly because Erburu had just issued the most horrendous tackle he'd ever seen in the Sporting Ground. He felt a vile stream of profanity in his throat, but he couldn't bring himself to utter it.

He sat down with his hands clutching his head, and the rest of the match was a blur.

[Polar Islandstates]

Announcement, Edition VI

[Polar Islandstates]

Roster


Starting Line Up
--------------------Riopel--------------------
----Urz---Ljungberg---Berg---Meolans----
-------------------Legeren--------------------
---Kjaer-----------Sivoli--------Fjorissen---
------------Ormache----Irndtor--------------

GK: Timothée Riopel (CDP)
DR: Hannes Urz (MYT)
DC: Maarten Berg (C)
DC: Sander Ljungberg
DL: Gaspar Meolans (AGU)
DMC: Zorion Legeren (ASG)
RM: Jon Kjaer
AMC: Tomas Sivoli (MYT)
LM: Petter Fjorissen
ST: Amadeus Irndtor
ST: Dei Ormache (AST)

Subs:
GK: Steffan Espeseth
DC: Bobó (CAF)
DR: Thor Lossler
DL: Benedikt Forsberg
DMC: Felix Vdovin
AMC: Ellis Rasmussen
ST: Sami Wunderlich (MYT)
Manager - Teemu Johansson

Modifier: +2

SK Franz Josef City, having retained the league title they last time around, have earned the right to context the Ides of March Cup once again, interestingly enough against the team that beat them in the last final, Ituraitz FC. This is the second time this has happened in the history of the trophy, Iturributa United and Jan Mayen Islanders contesting consecutive cups back in editions II and III. Having lost the tie last cycle, SK fans will be determined to urge their side onto victory, and to claim their second title.

Injuries finally took their toll on Atle Andreasson, and after making only a handful of appearances this season he has decided to retire, leaving Cotdelapomais understudy Timothée Riopel to be thrust into the limelight little earlier than expected. Thrust in at the deep end is new signing Hannes Urz of Mytannion, awaiting the departure of Berg to take up a central defensive role. The vetern Berg and future star Ljungberg sit in the centre of the defence, with this being Berg's swansong, taking the captaincy for one last time before handing it permanently to Ormache, the ever dependable Gaspar Meolans filling the left back slot. Graham Potter, the QPeMA veteran, has returned to his home nation, and so the Astograthi signing from Surtsey, Zorion Legern, sits in the hole in front of defence.

The attack is where SK's strengths lie however, with five excellent players all waiting to attack at any opportunity. Sitting in the middle is young Mytanar Tomas Sivoli, whose attacking displays brought him many accolades throughout the season. He will be looking to spread it out to either wing into the feet of the fleet-fotted Kjaer and Fjorissen, the same wingers as the first time SK contested the cup. Up front is Polarian poacher Irndtor, fast and tall, and Astograthi club-legend Dei Ormache, who was injured in last season's event, but looks sharp as a tack this time around, having just received the captaincy of the Astograthi national team. SK's leading scorer of the FPIFA era - he surpassed Timo Skye some time ago now - the stocky Ormache is adored by SK's fans and is soon to be captain, and he is a leading figure of the game in the Federation League. Mytanar striker Sami Wunderlich has a clutch of national caps to his name, and can always cause problems from the bench. Young midfielders Vdovin and Rasmussen fill out the bench, with Thor Lossler waiting for Urz's move to centre back to get his chance at right back.

Kit:



Hosting Stadium:
Landstadt Stadion - 54,195 (Franz Josef City)

With SK playing away both times they've contested this trophy so far, this is the first time that the Ides of March Cup will be fought out at the Landstadt Stadion. Almost as old as the team itself in many ways, the Landstadt is a piece of footballing architecture famous throughout the Federation, with just its silhouette enough to conjure up images of tough away matches and echoes of years' of success. It is a little old and showing its age in some corners on the interior, but what revered elder statesman of the game isn't a little rough around the edges? It was actually built before pitch sizes were standardised, and so the increase in turf on the previously small surface ensures that the fans are closer to the action than in any other stadium in the Federation. This stadium will reverberate with the sounds of the Griffons' fans, who are always loud and aggressive - a trait of living in the capital, some would say, but for the SK fans, its just the passion.

[Astograth]

Ituraitz FC
Manager: Domeka Iriarte
Style: +1
Colours

------------------ Barrueta ------------------
- Lazr -- Barturen - Erburu -- Echebarne -
- Mendikoa --- Olibarri - Sutton --- Maruri -
---------- Ansotegi --- Aer ----------

Starting XI:
GK - Astigar Barrueta
LB - Atseden Echebarne
CB - Milian Erburu (C)
CB - Maore Barturen
RB - Kenny Lazr
LM - Eneko Maruri
CM - Lester Sutton
CM - Urdin Olibarri
RM - Lukar Mendikoa
CF - Tomas Aer
CF - Ikatz Ansotegi

Substitutes:
GK - Idoeta Berriochea
DF - Edorta Garro
DF - Bakar Gandiaga
MF - Ortzi Sarria
MF - Artzeiz Uhalt
ST - Zilar Oramuno
ST - Peli Echetore

Ituraitz FC did it again. They weren't fancied, not with the other big clubs' heavy investments, but they ran away with the title nonetheless, surprise runners-up Echegoyan FC always so close yet so far. It was a fitting reward for their consistent performances at either end of the pitch, and they now visit SK Franz Josef City for a rematch of the last Ides of March Cup and the Aeropag Football Invitational eleventh place match, both of which eerily ended in the same 4-2 extra time victory for Gorriaka. Iturributa United triumphed at Nasjonale Stadion against Jan Mayen Islanders, while Sporting Iturributa faltered at Rendahl Stadion...what will the outcome be at the other great Franz Josef City ground? At the Ituraitz camp confidence is high that another win over Dei Ormache's team can be secured, and Domeka Iriarte has announced he will maintain his traditional 4-4-2.

In goal will be Astigar Barrueta, who has cemented himself as an agile and reliable keeper on top of earning a solitary cap for Astograth in its recent if ill-fated friendly at Civil Citizenry. The full-backs will be Atseden Echebarne, who was part of the Iturributan national team that earned second place at the World Cuppet, and beloved veteran Mytanar Kenny Lazr. Captain Milian Erburu, centre-back, is one of the team's key players and one of the stars of the Astograthian national side; his partner Maore Barturen has just been signed from Astograth University and although an excellent player for the mid-table side it is unknown how good he'll be at the top.

The centre midfielders are the team's lifeblood, stealing and dealing the ball with precision and ease. Urdin Olibarri is both highly experienced and decorated, with a spell at Iturributa United at the height of their success. The Citiz Lester Sutton, voted as First Division Player of the Season, regularly splits open defenses with passes as if it was nothing, and should remind Polarian fans of a younger Petter Bielsen. Down the wings, Iriarte likes it unbalanced, with the slow and ponderous Eneko Maruri on the left and the unbelievably swift Lukar Mendikoa down the right combining to shake things up and throw off markers.

Up front, Zilar Oramuno was relegated to the bench at the start of the season in favour of The Army Club's Ikatz Ansotegi, who was second in the scoring charts after rifling in 22 goals. The burly forward -he isn't called The Locomotive for nothing- additionally played for Astograth in the qualifiers for World Cup 57, earning twelve caps and finding the net once in the process; he made another appearance at the Finals, as a substitute in the last group stage match against Bostopia. Though his strike partner this season was Fabián Taggliafico, the wily Seleucid has since been transferred to Sparta of Cotdelapoms and a familiar name brought in at the last minute: Tomas Aer of Jan Mayen Islanders. The young striker, thankfully recovered from the Khuril seaplane disaster, has already been on the losing end of two Ides of March Cups with his old club, and will surely face a hostile atmosphere at Landstadt Stadion due to his previous affiliations.

Speaking of familiar faces, not only will Dei Ormache be facing his beloved Ituraitz yet again, but Zorion Legeren was an important player at Sporting Iturributa, was captain of the U-21 national team and is a constant at Powell Pieran's Astograth, with 26 caps and two goals, including three starts at World Cup 57, to his name to date.

As always, the Ides of March Cup looks set to be the site of some great football, which inevitably includes drama.

[Astograth]

Milian Erburu walked through the dark, chilly streets of Franz Josef City with a brisk pace, glad to be in somewhere he wasn't immediately mobbed by fans for a change. He'd gone sightseeing with the rest of the team in the afternoon, more out of interest to act as a binding force than out of a desire to actually visit the places he'd already been to while with the national team.

His presence was important, because as team captain he was responsible for the proper integration of the new players. Especially if they were meant to be starters, like Barturen and Aer. It was exhausting to always feel the weight of the armband on his shoulders, but at least this time it hadn't been too bad. His new defense partner mostly kept to himself but seemed to be an all-around nice guy, while Aer's incessant talking was at worst mildly annoying. Erburu didn't have much of a sense of humour, but the Polarian had gotten on well with the rest of the team in the little time they'd spent together so far, and had enthusiastically showed them around the city and eagerly acted as a translator for even the most minor things.

Erburu'd slipped away when everyone went back to the hotel saying he wanted to go buy some gifts, and quickly declined Aer's repeated offers of company. He hadn't really bought anything except for some excessively salty reindeer jerky from a street vendor. He just wanted to walk on his own.

Through the winding alleys of the city he wandered, breathing in the sharp, cold air that was not unlike Ituraitz in the winter. Some measure of comfort in these strange lands, where he couldn't understand what people said or wrote and the pitches were tended with a care that would be scoffed at back home. Ormache'd agreed to meet the day after the match, but it'd have to be a short meeting due to Erburu's fight leaving not long after.

He rode the Industrial Line of the Rötmetramsit for a good while, soaking in the sights of the Elfsteijn channel and the blurry reflections of a million orange lights. This was also like Ituraitz, with the hills shining onto the bay, but it also reminded him of the Leizaran slicing through Rumiatzi. It must've been late by the time he snapped out of it, because he was practically alone on the tram along some drunken youths.

Not wanting a repeat of that sticky incident in Mytannion, he got off at the next stop and took one of the rare taxis back to the hotel, which turned out to be on the other side of the city much to the driver's delight. He had to sneak into the room he shared with Olibarri, and before falling asleep wondered if tomorrow at the same time he'd have a medal round his neck to balance out the armband.

[Polar Islandstates]

"'You are a time millionaire, for a rich life invest wisely'? Really?"

"That's right, what's wrong with that?"

"What does this next one say, let me see, 'if you can't ride two horses at the same time you shouldn't be in the circus'? What?"

"It makes sense! Think about it!"

"I'm trying not to... Oh, come on, 'everyone gets butterflies, the trick is getting them to fly in formation'? Come on, Maarten, where did you get these? Out of a cracker?!"

"Ha, how dare you!" laughed Maarten Berg, leaning back in his chair and taking another sip of coffee, "these are some of the mantras that have seen me through my time as captain here, cheeky sod."

"Really though," laughed Dei Ormache, sitting opposite, "'If you act enthusiastic, you'll be enthusiastic'? What the hell does that even mean?"

"Well, as you become captain you'll find out, and you can say these things to the team!"

"Maarten mate I have never heard you say anything like this to us. Ever. 'When the going gets tough, the tough get going'? 'All of us are smarter than any one of us'? I mean, Maarten man, these have some of the most clic- Oh no wait, this is the best one yet! 'If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem'? Come on, Maarten, sure I've seen that one on television on some comedy show somewhere... What does that even have to do with football?"

"Ha ha ha ha, okay, you got me! I give up! I can't keep a straight face anymore!" said Maarten, creasing with laughter into his chair.

"Why, what? What's going on, man?

"Zorion put me up to it, ha ha, I'm sorry!"

"Zorion? Why, what was he planning?" asked Dei, beginning to laugh along nervously.

"He thought it would be funny if you took the armband next season, and started spouting all this management and marketing rubbish if you thought it was what I did, ha ha ha, I'm sorry, I agreed. I tried, but I couldn't keep it up!" said Maarten, laughing loudly.

"The cheeky sod. Wow. Well, my only regret for all of this is that you won't be here to see how I get him back. We're gonna miss you, man."

"And I'm sure I'll miss you all, too."

"To SK!" called Dei.

"To SK!" replied Maarten, clinking their cups together as they took a sip. There was a slight pause, then Dei turned his attention to the next card.

"'Run it up the flagpole, and you'll find thinking outside the box comes easily to those will all their ducks in a row.' Wow."

"Ha ha ha!"

[Polar Islandstates]

IDES OF MARCH CUP
Edition VI

SK Franz Josef City 2-0 Ituraitz FC

[Polar Islandstates]

"So, ten minutes left in this Ides of March Cup match between SK Franz Josef City and Ituraitz FC, and the visitors have SK well and truly pinned here. Johannes?"

"Oh, absolutely Nils. Ever since Irndtor's goal at the start of the second half, this spirited Ituraitz team has rallied and pressed, harried and chased down, and they are taking the game to SK in a really successful way. Riopel has been called into action on several occasions, and if it wasn't for Legeren, Berg, and Ljungberg, you have to say that Ituraitz would be ahead by now."

"I quite agree, and that's Berg with the interception now, playing in his last game for SK, how dearly he would love to go out with another medal round his neck. To says he's been a good servant for club and country over the years would be an understatement, and he passes to Meolans. To Legeren. SK just playing it around at the back, trying to take some of the pressure off here. Legeren to Rasmussen, on for the injured Sivoli. Attempts a stepover but is dispossessed by Olibarri, and now Ituraitz will look to come back at SK once again. Johannes?"

"Yeah Ituraitz are really starting to crank up the pressure here now, as they search for that goal that would possibly take us to extra time just like the last trophy. Olibarri, Sutton. Back to Olibarri. This midfield pair have really found the space between Legeren and the forward players all evening, and have caused a real tactical challenge for Teemu Johansson. Sutton reminds of a young Petter Bielsen actually, the way he moves and controls the pace of the game."

"Err, yeah, yeah I'll see that point. Decent comparison, for sure, and the player of the season in Astograth has certainly played well for Gorriaka tonight. And he muscles his way past Legeren there, that's a delightful ball down the right but I don't think that- oh I tell a lie, Mendikoa has got there, and I don't think Meolans was expecting that, whips in the cross, Aer miscontrols it! Richochets to Ansotegiiii... Slams off Ljungberg! Back out to Olibarri, lays it through to Sutton, Aer, Aer... Just over! Tomas Aer is unlucky not to open his account for his club, cannoning that shot just over the bar! A lucky escape for SK."

"I think the keeper's got a fingertip to that you know."

"You do?"

"Aye, look- the referee has given the corner anyway."

"Well let's take a look at the replay then, and- yes! Yes, you're right! Well in that case that is a fantastic save by Riopel, just getting enough of a fingertip on it it to touch the ball over the crossbar! Ituraitz with the corner now, and the noise in the arena is all coming from the travelling Astograthi supporters. Urging their team to get the goal here."

"Aye, SK need to clear their lines here, they're withstanding some heavy pressure from Ituraitz."

"Corner comes in, curled to the near post... Oh, what happened there? The ball seemed to bounce around the near post before Berg stuck his foot through it, ball now falling to Sutton on the edge of the area, sizes up the shot! Again, Ljungberg get in the way of the flight of the ball. It falls to Legeren, quick pass to Kjaer and SK could break here! Kjaer, bombing down the wing, looks up and Irndtor is on the overlap. He's got Ormache and Fjorrisen in the box now, with Rasmussen and Legeren bombing forwards too, and its 6 on 4 now if he chooses his moment right... Cross comes into to Ormache! Knocks it back to Legeren, and that's a fine counter-attacking goal by SK!"

"Oh, a superb strike from Legeren there, calmly sidefooting the ball into the corner of the net, leaving Barrueta with absolutely no chance at all. And Ormache was so unselfish in bringing him into play as well! I think the key to that move was the pace of Irndtor and Kjaer. Three touches from Kjaer there, then the pass, then Irndtor took three himself, then the pass, and by that time two thirds of the pitch had been covered and we had a 6 on 4 situation developing. Fabulous goal, and you have to say that, despite their fighting spirit, surely that's the game out of Ituraitz's reach now Nils?"

"I think you'd probably say so, yes. Teemu Johansson just taking this opportunity before the restart to make a few substitutions. That's Wunderlich coming on for Irndtor, and oh, this is a nice touch by Johansson."

"Ha ha ha, absolutely. Wonderful stuff."

"The second player coming off ladies and gentlemen, is Maarten Berg. Even on his last match he remains crucial, making the goal-line clearance that led to that second goal and now he is being taken off early, in his last match as a player in professional football, so that he may receive the chance for a full standing ovation form the crowd."

"He's taking his time walking to Ormache to had him the armband, and who can blame him? Practically the entire stadium is on their feet to applaud this guy, its a beautiful sight, as he leaves the pitch slowly, and clapping to the fans its just one of those moments that seem to make football all worth while Nils."

"Wonderful scenes here at the Landstadt, just wonderful. Sitting down on the bench now, receiving the plaudits from the coaches and his fellow player. Maarten Berg has left the building."

"Now, hang on, who is that the cameras have picked up watching from the stands?"

"Is that, Alexio Del Nieran?"

"I think it is you know. Perhaps there's more to these rumours than we at first thought."

"Well the fans don't appear to have spotted him yet, and nor do I think they'll stop singing for Maarten Berg for a long time yet. Lossler came on for Berg by the way, Urz moving into centre back with Ljungberg. Seven minutes left on the clock, two-nil the score. And all SK have to do is keep the ball..."

[Astograth]

Domeka Iriarte gritted his teeth as Berg intercepted the ball, cutting short a promising attack. Not worth shouting; the lads were doing their best. SK was just doing better. Sutton and Olibarri were piling on the pressure from the midfield up, Mendikoa was crossing alright, Maruri looked out of shap -a candidate for release next season if he didn't step up, no doubt. Ansotegi and Aer didn't seem to be clicking, though hopefully they'd hit it off once the season proper got underway. Defense...defense was holdig up alright, but the centre-backs weren't sprint runners to say the least and Iriarte feared that in pushing up for the equaliser they were leaving themselves open to a counter-attack. Between a rock and a hard place indeed, or as his old man would say: sartzba bat eta horma baten arteko.

He couldn't even relax and tell the fans the Ides of March Cup wasn't as important as the other silverware he'd won for Ituraitz in his seven-year tenure. Even the Champions' Cup, with all its glory and prestige, lacked the taste of raw international rivalry. Astograthian and Polarian teams, national sides or clubs, don't meet every day, after all. Winning those precious few was all-important. Of course, Iriarte had already masterminded one triumph, and in great style, but like his old man used to say: dago lehen ez bigarren.

Three leagues, three Royal Cups and an Ides of March Cup to his name so far. The most successful manager in modern Astograthian football, and he was barely 45. A child next to United's Sein or Sporting's Azarola, both well over sixty. He hadn't been as good in his playing days, dawdling around the old Northwest Premier League in a dozen teams across fifteen seasons, his fifteen minutes of fame coming and going when he signed for Ituraitz FC only to be loaned away into oblivion. In the long run, it proved to be a blessing in disguise. He learned to value the little things in football. To adapt, to size up friends and foes. To take nothing at face value. As Iriarte senior would say: gatz pixka batekin hartu.

Ormache ran past him, eyes fixed on the ball, and the Ituraitz manager couldn't avoid a smile. Landstadt Stadion was Ormache's home now, but for many it had been the Ituraitz Sporting Ground. When Iriarte had taken the reins he was still a bit of a loose cannon who got away with things by virtue of his goalscoring talent. Under his guidance, he'd turned into a professional and scored more. Though he wondered how much the latter was his doing and not Soter Sarlange's. Then again, he could take credit for putting Sarlange in the first team...although errementari ez hartu kraintzu altzairuaren erabiltzeko.

Down the wing Sutton linked up perfectly with Mendikoa, who didn't waste any time sending in the cross. Aer doesn't take it cleanly, Ansotegi shoots! Rebound, out to Olibarri, Sutton, Aer! Iriarte wasn't sure the keeper had touched it, but the corner was in his favour. Maruri takes it...Berg clears, Sutton from the edge of the box! Rebound again, and Iriarte vented his frustration by slapping his hands together. Wasting chances left and right! Argh! What he'd give to have Ormache and Sarlange back, who could score from anywhere, whenever! Ezin makila helburua ortzadar bat da and all that!

Now Legeren had broken away, damn it. He remembered seeing Legeren when he was just a promising youngster at Sporting. Kid looked much better now, and he'd always been above average. Captain of the U21s, had he been? Iriarte wasn't sure, but Kjaer was now bombing down the side of the pitch, passes to Irndtor. Shit. 6 on 4. A bit of Ormache magic and Legeren puts it out of reach for Ituraitz. Yeah, he'd definitely have to tell the fans they'd have to settle for the league and/or cup now. Take it like a man, he would.

Like his father once said, ez galdu zure bichiak baliotsuenetako ikusmena.

[Polar Islandstates]

Announcement, Edition VII