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Di Bradini Cup 56/U21WC77 RP And Scores Thread

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Cabo Azure
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Founded: Jun 05, 2021
Right-wing Utopia

Postby Cabo Azure » Sun Nov 12, 2023 2:05 pm

One of the greatest culture shocks for those visiting Cabo Azure is the openness of the culture to sex. For a country where divorce isn't guaranteed and abortion is illegal, both Azureans as a whole and their government are very alright with what people do behind closed doors. Checking into an Azurean hotel, regardless of price point, location, or reputation, it is reasonable to expect a roll of unexpired condoms to be discreetly placed in the nightstand, and even family-oriented restaurants have baskets of them available in the men's and women's bathrooms.

To understand this practice and why it does not contribute to a wider liberal view of sex, it is important to understand its origin and limitations. Cabo Azure has always been a strong seafaring culture; mariners are often romanticized as the picture of masculinity, and other professions compared unfavorably to seafaring. In the early days of commercial seafaring, it was common for entire ships to come down with bouts of venereal disease, owing to indiscretions on the part of the sailors in port. Through contact with more technologically advanced cultures such as Quebec, seafarers gained access to prophylactic condoms and began distributing them to their sailors aboard ships, both to prevent the spread of disease and to reduce the number of children born out of wedlock at ports visited by Azurean sailors.

This widespread access to prophylaxis quickly expanded to the general population, and condom use became standard in intercourse not intended for procreation. This change, which came at the beginning of King Carlos III’s reign, had the effect of greatly reducing Cabo Azure’s birthrate at a time when the average family had more than three children. Children were taught the importance of using protection in the vein of harm reduction; while sex outside wedlock is still sin according to the Azurean Catholic Church, fathering a bastard is far worse. The Church took out ads in men’s magazines including, controversially, pornographic magazines, showing children sitting alone looking sad, with the simple caption “Bastardo.” The message was simple; bastard children go through life alone, don’t father them.

Health education is one of the few topics still taught by the Azurean Catholic Church in schools. The Ordem da Sagrada Família, Order of the Holy Family or OSF, is a small priestly order within the ACC whose members are trained as marriage counselors and health educators. Traditional health education in Cabo Azure takes the form of two OSM priests, one male and one female, coming into a primary school for a week or so and covering topics ranging from menstruation to pregnancy to sex and venereal disease. As with many places, parents have the right to opt their children out, but the children must complete health instruction via some other method; historically, this has been via correspondence, but more recently video instruction has been used.

Despite this relatively open posture toward sex, hormonal birth control has only recently become available thanks to the lobbying attempts of Princess Alexandra, King Manuel’s younger sister and a practicing gynecologist in Sao Simone. Abortion remains illegal in the country, though it is easier than ever to fly to Ceni or the Royal Kingdom of Quebec for the procedure, and law enforcement is instructed to turn a blind eye.
he/him/his
Population: ~500K
Capital: Sao Simone
Demonym: Azurean
Sports played: Football
A note on chronology
Arquivos de Esportes (Domestic Newswire)
BOF 76 Runner-Up
CR 44 Champions

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Huayramarca
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Posts: 447
Founded: May 02, 2020
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Huayramarca » Sun Nov 12, 2023 10:04 pm

Another three-one victory, another solid displayy by the Baby Condors in the Di Bradini Cup. This victory has made them achieve the heights that no other Huayramarcan had ever achieved in this prestigious youth football tournament, as the team would reach the semifinals for the first time in the history of the youth football project of the Huayramarcan Football Federation. Fans and media are ecstatic as this is the continuation of a continuous set of great performances of Huayramarca during the last couple of months, that are the signs that can, possibly, certify that the project of Mister Aginsogno is having a harvest time, or maybe not yet? According to the expectations of anybody, this could be the best moment so far for the project, this could be its consolidation or this is just the beginning, there's a spot for every single opinion there, be it wrong or right, but all ideas contribute, and have already contributed to the project that has been in the works for two cycles as of now.

The Kytler Peninsulae was a hard rival, as they were having a solid tempo and the desire to show the world that they are back, that they have a great generation for their Multiversal comeback in football terms, but the Baby Condors were there with the usual intensity and performance they have showed through this tournament. Dante Rumiñahui has been stellar during the last couple of matches with the management of tempo, controlling the field and assisting players as if he had a couple of years on his back, but nope, he just happened to have the companion of some players that have a couple of matches with the senior National Team, the same situation with Rumiñahui (with a lesser extent, as he played only a match).But this time, it was different, as he was able to score a goal and provide an assist, probably the goal that he needed to cap his spectacular moment.

Although the team has done a spectacular performance so far, Rumiñahui is aware that "Little to nothing has been achieved. We have walked a long path, but there's still more to go if we want to achieve what we dream. Valanora is a hard rival, the Group Stage match showed it and there's more in stake for the upcoming match." And he is right, it will never be the same to have a Group Stage match and a Semifinal in comparison, as the Semis is the point where experience comes to hand, the grit and past experiences that might inspire the players to give their best, and that's where Valanora is pretty dangerous... A glorious past and a solid present, where the futures of the Elves are forged is always a spectacular rival, but the Baby Condors have that dream in mind, the thirst for victory can be pretty strong, but can it help against experience and mysticality that the Elves have in this kind of stages?

Time will tell, but Huayramarca has been performing solidly in this edition of the tournament, perhaps being an indicator that we have got a solid (and perhaps stacked) national team for the next couple of years, as Mr. Aginsogno will have to deal with headaches trying to pick who fits the best in his game scheme, as he will have multiple options to choose from, be it at the goalkeeping department or the strikers area... That kind of headaches are the ones every manager would like to have, and every fan too, as it shows how good can be the future in terms of quality for Huayramarca. In the end, as it is a youth project, the sole fact of debuting this guys in the senior NT will be extremely valuable for this project.

Population: 36 million, demonym: Huayramarcan, capital city: Chuquiago, languages: Spanish, Quechua, Aymara + 6

CAFA VII Champions

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Valanora
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Founded: Sep 03, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Valanora » Mon Nov 13, 2023 3:31 pm

Semifinals
Huayramarca 2–5 Valanora*
Polar Islandstates 4–3 Cabo Azure
*Scorinated by Sylestone

3PPO
Huayramarca v Cabo Azure @ Artani, Mar Sara

Final
Valanora v Polar Islandstates @ The Battleground, Raynor City
Last edited by Valanora on Mon Nov 13, 2023 3:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
World Cup 40, 42, 43, 52, & 61 Champions
WC 47, 51, 94 (2nd), WC 34, 38, 39, 41, 44, 45, 53, 60, 67, 92 (3rd), WC 49, 58, 87, 90 (Semifinalist), WC 33, 35-37, 46, 48, 54, 55, 62, 63, 65, 72, 83, 85, 86, 88, 91 (Quarterfinalist)
WCoH VII, VIII, XVII, XXVIII, XXX, XXXII (1st), WCoH I, XXXI, XL (2nd), WCoH II, XXIX (3rd), WCoH XII (4th)
AOCAF 44, 46, 51, 53, 65, 68 Champions, AOCAF 39, 43, 55, 59, 64 Runners Up
Co-Hosted: too many events to count

EPL Season 20,073

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Valanora
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Valanora » Wed Nov 15, 2023 10:50 am

As much as this Marauders team has tried to play down the claims that they are a one person team, with the rest of the team riding on the coattails of the star, the performance given in the semifinals has flamed that accusation. It is not necessarily a bad thing to have a star player who can take the team on their back and be able to almost single handedly will the team towards victory and success, but there is a certain narrative that then detracts from the rest of the team if too much of the praise and recognition is put upon a sole individual. This has been on occasion a criticism of the senior national team as well, with the likes of Laborious Hawk, whose name at this point in time is synonymous with greatness and success on such a scale both as an individual as well as those teams that he does play for, that it is easy to see why that is the case. However in doing so, it undercuts the contribution that others have put into those teams that have seen various club and national team success for Hawk and the teams he is on at that time.

Huayramarca entered into the semifinal tie with the mental edge, they had defeated the Vanorians in the group stage and put to bed the dreams of a perfect group stage, forcing them down the more challenging path to get to the semifinals in the process. In the group stage matchup, the Anaia side was able to neutralize the offensive weapons at the Marauders disposal and find a way to overcome what has been a very dogged and determined group in the defense. They earned their victory and put the Marauders back in their place in a matter of speaking, giving them a slice of humble pie lest they were too high upon themselves for the accomplishments they had already achieved in the group stage. Perhaps it was the sort of kick in the pants that the side needed however, given the performances that we have seen out of the team in the matches since the defeat and the looks of intense hunger for success that has been on the faces of these players in the knockout stage matches.

Insert Imre Haaland however, who is quickly earning the moniker of a one man army with the exploits that he has been having at this Di Bradini Cup as well as what he has accomplished at club level. It has become very clear that he was far too good to have stayed at Juavi FC for long and how the Reds managed to keep quiet about him for as long as they were able to, until he helped keep them up for two seasons before being sold after their inevitable relegation is a feat unto itself. Where Huayramarca might have been able to contain Imre in the group stage, he was a man on a mission during the semifinal game, having a hand in all five goals that the home side put on the board. A hattrick of his own tallies as well as setting up the other two goals, scored by Aurora Nilsen and Caspian Garberg respectively, showed once more the versatility of the striker as well as his tenacity to do whatever he can to get goals for himself or his teammates. The magic is there, but it is there in hard work and the little things that turn a great player into an elite, that make the team around them better and not just themselves.

"Yeah, I had this terrible nightmare last night that we came against Huayramarca and we ran into the same issues that were there during our encounter in the group stage, where they were able to clamp us down and not allow us to get really any good looks. It felt extremely real and when I woke up, I just had this intense drive to not let that come to pass and did everything I could to make sure we came out on top. The team played well and our opponents played decently to but we were a bit sharper in the attack and got the goals to get the win. Now we have a chance at a trophy, there is not much more you can ask for really." The striker said in a brief touchline interview after the match, collective the player of the match award for his efforts but his focus already on the next game, a game where the Marauders will be going up for a surprise tournament win. This was not the destination that many saw for this team, with most thinking the side would make the knockouts but then getting bounced in the first round but it was not to be.

The famous site of The Battleground in Raynor City will once more be a place to contest a title, though it will be the first time that the youth national team will be doing so. While the team that previously represented the Empire in the early editions of the Di Bradini Cup, before the decision to no longer participate, did win a pair of titles, those editions all took place within Starblaydia and not in the Empire, not in front of over seventy thousand fans who will be pushing the side on to go and capture the title. It is the second time this tournament where the side will play in this most venerated of stadiums, the other of course being the opening match as has been the custom since the Empire decided to once more participate in the tournament. Standing in opposition will be the Rushmori side of Polar Islandstates, who have quickly resumed their status as a very difficult opponent in the world of football after a prolonged hiatus. By all accounts the Polarian side should be the victors and yet, Imre Haaland stands tall and roaring to go with the rest of the squad behind him ready to support. If the side does lift the trophy, will it matter that it will likely be because one star lead them to greatness or will that trophy be celebrated all the same? Does it even matter? Game on.
World Cup 40, 42, 43, 52, & 61 Champions
WC 47, 51, 94 (2nd), WC 34, 38, 39, 41, 44, 45, 53, 60, 67, 92 (3rd), WC 49, 58, 87, 90 (Semifinalist), WC 33, 35-37, 46, 48, 54, 55, 62, 63, 65, 72, 83, 85, 86, 88, 91 (Quarterfinalist)
WCoH VII, VIII, XVII, XXVIII, XXX, XXXII (1st), WCoH I, XXXI, XL (2nd), WCoH II, XXIX (3rd), WCoH XII (4th)
AOCAF 44, 46, 51, 53, 65, 68 Champions, AOCAF 39, 43, 55, 59, 64 Runners Up
Co-Hosted: too many events to count

EPL Season 20,073

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Polar Islandstates
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Founded: Jan 17, 2011
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Polar Islandstates » Wed Nov 15, 2023 12:10 pm

SOUR CHERRIES
Part vii.f)
Fragility/Ferocity

i - ii - iii - iiii - v - vi - vii.a) - vii.b) - vii.c) - vii.d) - vii.e) - vii.f) - vii.g) - viii
Volume Two
** ** ** ** **


Finals were becoming a matter of habit for Youssef Nijgaard. The last DBC final, of course, with Emmanuele going off early, ultimately ending in defeat to a gifted Qasden side. More recently, there was the Latitude Cup win; Pallasmaa’s goodbye to the Bjarnese fans, a final flourish manifest by a flourish in a final. It was almost inevitable. Written. Scripted.

Right now though, as he sat in the dressing room half-listening to Zhamaletdinov giving his pre-match speech, Youssef found himself thinking on the fleeting nature of this life, this career. The transience. He didn’t need to listen to the gaffer; the tactical chat had already happened, this was just motivational nonsense. And nobody there really needed that right now. They just needed to look at Emmanuele going through his full range of pre-match emotions. Accordingly, everyone was.

All except Youssef.

Growing inside him was this sense of impermanence. Of fragility. This would likely be his final DBC and he was acutely aware, already, of the passage of time. He was only young, and yet here he was, dwelling on the future before it had even occurred. But by design. This wasn’t anxiety, or nerves, or fear of failure. This was a choice. He knew it was a short career, all footballers were aware of that, the difference that he saw that not as a problem but as an opportunity. This life was a moment. A flash in the pan. And yet, the chance to do something that reverberated throughout time was overpowering. Intoxicating. To illustrate and punctuate his personal contribution to an extensive culture and its storied history with a moment of brilliance was almost too much. This was his final shot at a DBC title, and that excited him. Whether his u21s career was to bow out in a blaze of glory or a fiery tailspin, he was ready. He was prepared. It would but a moment, but what a moment. Temporality only attached more meaning and significance to the permanent memories left behind. What significance something you have eighty tries at over your lifetime, with always the benefit of ‘one more go’?

If this was how Alexsandr van Sorensen had felt before his finals against Eura, or Wight even, he hadn’t showed it. Youssef was fully aware that his point of view did not necessarily align with the views of his colleagues, where nerves or the sense of responsibility may have been overwhelming. But he was a bigger man than he was before he was handed that vice-captaincy, and he’d decided to be pro-active and dictate his own approach to a problem that could have sent him into a spiral of overthinking just a few months ago.

Limitations were applied to his position, and the extent to which he was successful in achieving his goals would largely depend on other people besides himself. He appreciated that, but that only added to the delicate sense of balance. Like wet tissue paper holding up an increasing number of stones, at one point it was destined to break and give way. But that only made him all the more determined to succeed, or at the very least, to grasp the opportunities before him whilst they were still there.

It was important, therefore, to protect those opportunities as much as possible. If this was going to be his one shot, then he had to make sure everything was in the best possible position to take that shot. Emmanuele had to be pointed in the right direction. Nic had to calm down. The defence had to believe in themselves and their abilities and not worry too much about conceding given the gaffer’s tactical preferences, and any external influences had to be minimised.

The presence of the same hooded man at the end of the tunnel when they stood up amid applause and self-motivation was therefore the only thing that, in that instance, could have thrown Youssef like that. He’d seen the same man throughout the tournament, and he’d been able to distract Emmanuele every time. At no point was he aware that Emmanuele had noticed the OO, and he’d wanted to keep it that way. And now, somehow, someone had given this man a pass to the tunnel. He didn’t want to speculate how, The Party had tendrils everywhere these days it seemed, but without a means to do anything about it now, Youssef knew he’d already lost that particular battle. He knew Emmanuele couldn’t help but notice he was being watched. That he had an audience. A disapproving audience. The last time that had happened, there had been explosive consequences.

Youssef felt a slight chill as he walked out into the stadium to the cheers of fans and the flashes of cameras for the last time that tournament. What had Emmanuele seen? What would he do? For the first time, Youssef didn’t feel like the temporal nature of his task was of benefit. Instead, it was the most brittle of albatrosses around his neck. One shot. One last shot.
/
Despite the number of officials, press, and representatives running around the tunnel before the match started, the man in the grey suit stood out like a sore thumb. Emmanuele saw him instantly as the team filed past. With his position at the end of the queue he had time to let his eyes take in the scene before him. With this being his second chance at a DBC winner's medal, after the chaos and panic of the first one, this was something he was keen to do. And then, second time around, he was once again distracted. Against the backdrop of all that movement and activity, the man standing still would have stood out from a mile off.

So. The OO were here after all. That much wasn't a surprise, he'd always suspected as much. The difference was that now he knew it. Or, more to the point, they wanted him to know it. He knew they could stay out of sight of they wanted to. They'd made a deliberate decision to antagonise him last time around, and he'd given them the show they'd asked for, but he had assumed they wouldn't poke that particular wasp nest for a second time. Especially after he'd been so aware of his actions. All those hours of therapy... He gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to let them do it to him again. Not this time.

He had been made a scapegoat. He could see that now, with the benefit of age and a modicum more sense. They'd gone looking for a show, and he'd given it to them; played up to the exact performance they'd been hoping for. A distraction. A victim. Someone to throw under the bus. Someone to distract to the point they lose a thumb in a training ground accident. He took a deep breath as he entered the field of play. Go through the process, Emmanuele, go through the process. Learn from before, and don't rise to it even when they lower the bar.

The home crowd were noisy, getting behind their hometown heroes as they attempted to win the DBC on home soil. But Emmanuele wasn't listening. He was focused only on controlling his emotions. His rage. That flashback that was texting to force it's way to the front of his brain. He was only interested if he could use it as motivation. That sense of injustice. The unfairness of it all. If he harnessed it well, now, he could use it. But he had to be quick. Be sharp. Be aware. When to let it, and when to say no.

Which is how he ended up closing his eyes during the national anthem. The television broadcasts at one obsessed over this, but he was oblivious. In the zone, he could only relive the events of the last tournament. So engrossed was he, he had to be tapped on the shoulder by the referee to start accepting handshakes as the Vanorians went down the line. It was almost comic.

Breaking line and taking his place for kick off, Emmanuele said nothing, with only his clenched fists and the lines in his forehead betraying the inner turmoil that was engulfing him. He glanced around. Everyone else seemed calm, it was just him. Fighting the urge to rage and to start singing Fallenmark songs from home. He had to use this energy, this power. He was a winner. He was a Polarian. He was a Niemi.

The referee approached the centre circle and the captain's awaited the coin toss. Emmanuele nodded curtly at Youssef, and received a knowing nod back. He'd made his decision. His ferocity, his intensity, it was all about to be unleashed. The DBC final wouldn't know what had hit it.

Someone, somehow, for the last time at a DBC either way, was about to taste Emmanuele Niemi's fury.


** ** ** ** **
Volume Two
i - ii - iii - iiii - v - vi - vii.a) - vii.b) - vii.c) - vii.d) - vii.e) - vii.f) - vii.g) - viii
Last edited by Polar Islandstates on Thu Nov 23, 2023 5:42 am, edited 3 times in total.
The True Valhallan Federation of Polar Islandstates - Pop. 51,500,000
Capital: Franz Josef City - Demonym: Valhallan (Polarian) - Trigramme: PIS
sportnyheter.vu - Ides of March Cup
Champions: WC67, CR XIX, CR XVIII, CR XV, CR X, CR VIII, DBC56, DBC20, RLWC11, RLWC10 Runners-Up: WC66, WC65, CR VI, DBC29, DBC55, WCoH18
Third: WC70, WC68, WC57, CR XII, DBC27 Fourth: WC56, CR XXII, RLWC13, RLWC9, WCoH17
“Aut Pax Aut Bellum” - A formerly closed nation that definitely isn't fascist now. The strongest and one true constituent member of The Valhallan Union
He/Him/His

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Valanora
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Founded: Sep 03, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Valanora » Wed Nov 15, 2023 3:01 pm

3PPO
Huayramarca 2–2(2–2 AET)[4–3 pen.] Cabo Azure

Final
Valanora 3-4 Polar Islandstates*
*Scorinated by Carpathia And Ruthenia
Last edited by Valanora on Wed Nov 15, 2023 3:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
World Cup 40, 42, 43, 52, & 61 Champions
WC 47, 51, 94 (2nd), WC 34, 38, 39, 41, 44, 45, 53, 60, 67, 92 (3rd), WC 49, 58, 87, 90 (Semifinalist), WC 33, 35-37, 46, 48, 54, 55, 62, 63, 65, 72, 83, 85, 86, 88, 91 (Quarterfinalist)
WCoH VII, VIII, XVII, XXVIII, XXX, XXXII (1st), WCoH I, XXXI, XL (2nd), WCoH II, XXIX (3rd), WCoH XII (4th)
AOCAF 44, 46, 51, 53, 65, 68 Champions, AOCAF 39, 43, 55, 59, 64 Runners Up
Co-Hosted: too many events to count

EPL Season 20,073

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Polar Islandstates
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Posts: 3550
Founded: Jan 17, 2011
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Polar Islandstates » Fri Nov 17, 2023 1:02 am

SOUR CHERRIES
Part vii.g)
Generosity/Gravity

i - ii - iii - iiii - v - vi - vii.a) - vii.b) - vii.c) - vii.d) - vii.e) - vii.f) - vii.g) - viii
Volume Two
** ** ** ** **


Gradually, the Chicks had played themselves back into the game. The hosts had had their own starlet play them into a two-nil lead early on in the contest, as the Chicks seemed a little awe-struck by the occasion. This shouldn’t have been the case, given the majority of them had played in the last DBC final. But of course, as Youssef noted, last time around this match wasn’t being played against a side with home advantage.

Even so, the Chicks dug in, and after Imre Haaland had scored his second, it was Emmanuele, playing like a man possessed, who had taken matters into his own hands. Coming deeper than usual, he’d practically taken the ball off Youssef personally, before jinking into the penalty area and hitting the ball so hard that even a good palm from Simonsen at full stretch couldn’t keep it out. Two-one.

Not to be outdone, it was Youssef who had then evened things up. Jalmari, buoyed by his winning goal in the semi-final, had kept things moving down the left flank, before exchanging passes with Martin and winning a corner as a result, which he himself took. From that corner, Youssef spotted a gap and called quickly, stooping to waist height before having to leap forwards and flick a diving header in at the near post. The equaliser came right before half-time, meaning the Chicks went into the break in the ascendency.

Early in the second-half however, they were once again behind, with only themselves to blame. A mix-up at the back had allowed Nilsen to nip into a gap and pick up a wayward pass, and when Arni fouled them, as he had had to do, it was a simple enough act for Haaland to stroke home the penalty and complete that rarest of items – a hat-trick in a cup final.

Reacting to going behind was a new sensation for the Chicks at this tournament, and now they had to do it for a second time in one game. Youssef shared a conversation with Nic on his way back to the centre-circle for the Chicks’ fourth kick-off of the game, and they came up with a plan. With the gaffer taking care of tactical tweaks form the sideline, they were going to lead by example, and lead they did. Throwing themselves into tackles, cleanly winning the ball back time and time again, they lead form the front. Sure enough, the rest of the team caught the hint, and soon the whole team were tapping into energy reserves they hadn’t realised they had. It was tiring work, the Vanorians were protecting a lead in their own stadium with a piece of silverware on the line, and they were playing the ball around and keeping possession as much as possible. The Chicks were hot on their heels though, with a high press initiated by both strikers trickling through and making sure the entire pitch was alive with players pushing, pulling, harrying, and jockeying with their opposite numbers. It wasn’t quite man-to-man, but the handball-based education of the Valhallans was certainly kicking in. Old habits die hard.

Only millimetres prevented Gunnar from intercepting one pass and putting Emmanuele clean through, and on the hour mark almost exactly, Youssef himself struck a speculative effort so sweetly that the whole ground thought it might be in. Agonisingly, it dropped just over the bar, causing gasps of exasperation all round, and leaving Youssef with his head in his hands. But importantly, there was still time.

Strikers like Youssef won’t be denied for long though, and soon enough his tenacity paid off. Dispossessing a dithering Vanorian defender, he whipped the ball over to the advancing Jalmari. Then, as Nic steamed into the penalty box and disrupted the defensive shape, Youssef calmly waited on the edge of the box to guide a first-time shot into the top corner with his weaker foot. Three-three with ten minutes left, and a thriller of a final looked like it might be headed for extra-time.

If there’s one thing that Youssef had learned during this tournament however, it was not to underestimate his strike partner. Having spotted the man from the OO lurking with intent, and knowing that Emmanuele would have done so as well, he’d feared the worst. But the Nasjonale man was clearly taking his emotions out on the opposition. As he had done all tournament. Going into the first game, Youssef had been preoccupied with providing Emmanuele with a good example to follow. In the end, it was him following Emmanuele. His focus pre-final had been all about acknowledging the temporality of the event, and right now, he was just enjoying watching Emmanuele terrorise the Vanorian defence. Tearing around, hassling and hurrying the opposition, forcing them into errors and getting himself into good positions. He was a handful and a half at the best of times, but this… this was something else. Youssef couldn’t help but admire it. Life is but a series of experiences, an endless timeline of sequential moments that were interpreted and made permanent by your memory. And in that moment, Youssef already knew he’d remember this one forever.

The crucial moment began to feel inevitable. The Chicks were pressing, dominating possession and keeping the Vanorians in their own half. The home crowd was edgy, nervous, and that sense of fear and anxiety was being communicated to their players. And then, suddenly, there it was! With minutes left, Emmanuele was onto a nervy touch like lightning, and the ball was loose. Racing clear, Emmanuele was bearing down on goal but being closed down and forced wide by a pair of defenders. Simonsen was out like a flash to try and close the gap and save the final. No matter. With a bound and a leap, Youssef had managed to keep up with his colleague, finding a reserve of energy from somewhere he didn't know existed. In acres of space, he called for the ball. Emmanuele saw the opportunity and played the ball through, but mis-kicked. The ball trickled at half the pace it was meant to, and Youssef had to go to it. Travelling diagonally across the six yard box, the ball was being chased down by Simonsen and the defenders. Youssef had an open goal, if the ball reached him in time. It seemed to move in slow motion. He was going to have time. He'd get there before Simonsen, he was sure of it. Ninety percent sure. Ninety nine percent sure. With every passing millisecond he knew he had it. A tap in, for his own cup final hat-trick and a claim of immortality... Except, now, with all eyes on him, Youssef could see over the shoulders of the desperate keeper: Emmanuele. Eyes wide with expectation. With hope. With anticipation. And wide, wide open. Youssef reached the ball first, just. Youssef swivelled. Youssef played it back across the dive from Simonsen.

Youssef wheeled away on his own as if he himself had scored the goal. He sank to his knees and clenched his fists to his chest. What a moment. What a snapshot. What a victory.
/
In the coach to the airport, Emmanuele sat with the trophy belted up in the empty seat next to him. Normally, this was where Youssef sat, but with him down the front filming a piece for television with Nic and the gaffer, he'd graciously allowed Emmanuele to sit the trophy there. Given the amount of goals he'd scored to help win it, this did feel right, but he also reasoned that Youssef had no idea how much he'd helped Emmanuele to achieve those goals. In every sense of the word. All tournament, he'd been amazing.

As a facilitator, a roommate, and a friend, Youssef had been there to calmly support him. And that pass to Emmanuele in the final moments of the game to score the winner? Probably the most unselfish thing he'd ever seen. A striker, willingly giving up the chance to score a hat-trick? In a final? A sudden thought occurred to him, as he remembered letting Roald take that late penalty in a previous game. Hm. Maybe the therapy was working better than even he realised. Apparently, Emmanuele was no longer that kind of striker.

The magnitude of what they'd done hadn't quite set in yet. He watched as the coach drove past a billboard advertising what had at one point been the coming tournament. The fact that they'd played it, and won it since those posters were put up still seemed surreal to him. This time, they'd gone one step further and achieved what only one other group of Valhallans had ever done before. The sense of achievement was there on the edge of his psyche, waiting to be absorbed. It would come, he knew. Once he was done with the vindication. He looked at the scar where his scar used to be. The vindication would be more than enough for now, but he smirked and looked forward to learning that next process. Adopting the next Mantra.

Emmanuele gazed into his reflection in the trophy, a warped and twisted face looke back at him. He could still remember that winning moment. Breaking forward with the ball, playing Youssef through and bumbling the pass and thinking he'd messed up the golden moment, and then Youssef squaring the ball back unexpectedly. It was weird, the buildup was photographic, as was what came after, but he had no memory of the actual goal. Just Youssef's pass, and then an eruption that came from deep within. A rush of teammates bombarding him. A roar from somewhere in the crowd. An exhausted high five and hug from Youssef. A glance a the bench, all going mad next to Zhamaletdinov.

He thought about young Roald and the other members of the group young enough to come back. Those with a chance to do what so few had done before and retain a DBC title. He'd come so close to doing just that. One more win at the last tournament and it would have all been so different. But somehow, with a gold medal in his pocket, that seemed to matter a whole lot less this morning. This felt good. This was personal growth. He knew the players that were left would have a good chance to retain it though, but he was happy to just be a member of this particular winners a club. A tournament inner circle of which he was now a storied alumni.

Finally, he thought of the OO. Whoever that guy was, he'd left them alone since then. Emmanuele had actually intended to do the old Marylebone symbol, somehow, if they won. But in the heat of the moment he'd totally forgotten. He'd done his talking on the pitch in the end, as was best, but still. It would have been nice to run the establishment's nose in it. He sighed. There would be time for more disruption, he was sure. He wasn't going to beat himself up about it.

He was a winner, now. The first in his career unless you counted schoolboy efforts. And it felt good. His name in lights, in the record books. He could get used to that. Closing his eyes, he leaned back and smiled as the coach joined the highway to the airport. Not long until he was back home. Not long until he could start making more history.


** ** ** ** **
Volume Two
i - ii - iii - iiii - v - vi - vii.a) - vii.b) - vii.c) - vii.d) - vii.e) - vii.f) - vii.g) - viii
Last edited by Polar Islandstates on Thu Mar 21, 2024 6:57 am, edited 5 times in total.
The True Valhallan Federation of Polar Islandstates - Pop. 51,500,000
Capital: Franz Josef City - Demonym: Valhallan (Polarian) - Trigramme: PIS
sportnyheter.vu - Ides of March Cup
Champions: WC67, CR XIX, CR XVIII, CR XV, CR X, CR VIII, DBC56, DBC20, RLWC11, RLWC10 Runners-Up: WC66, WC65, CR VI, DBC29, DBC55, WCoH18
Third: WC70, WC68, WC57, CR XII, DBC27 Fourth: WC56, CR XXII, RLWC13, RLWC9, WCoH17
“Aut Pax Aut Bellum” - A formerly closed nation that definitely isn't fascist now. The strongest and one true constituent member of The Valhallan Union
He/Him/His

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