World Cup 62 - The RP thread

[The Archregimancy]

THE ARCHREGIMANCY BRINGS YOU

WORLD CUP TONIGHT

With Fr. John the Golden-Throated

"Christ is with us - and welcome to World Cup Tonight. We're very lucky to have with us in the studio tonight Archregimancy national manager Fr. Basil the Fool for Christ, who's just become the first Archregimancy manager to take his team to the World Cup for some three tournaments. And I'm very pleased to report that he's left his bucket in his hermitage. Fr. Basil, many monastic football supporters are unsure as to whether feel shame or pride over this achievement. What are your thoughts?"

"EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD - THE LUST OF THE FLESH, THE LUST OF THE EYES, AND THE PRIDE OF LIFE - COMES NOT FROM THE FATHER BUT FROM THE WORLD!!!!!"

"Aha - John's first epistle. Of course, so I take it that..."

"DEBAUCHERY, LUST, DRUNKENNESS, ORGIES, CAROUSING, AND DETESTABLE IDOLATRY!!!!!"

"Let's just turn that microphone down for you there.... So if I understand you correctly, you're arguing that it's a sin to..."

"PUT TO DEATH, THEREFORE, WHATEVER BELONGS TO YOUR EARTHLY NATURE: SECULAR IMMORALITY, IMPURITY, LUST, EVIL DESIRES AND GREED!"

"Paul's Epistle to the Colossians.... yes.... perhaps we should move on to safer ground. What do you think about the group draw? Some have referred to it as a 'Group of Death'. Could you offer some thoughts on your opponents? What about Wight?"

"WIGHT? WIGHT? 'AND WHEN SIMON SAW THAT THROUGH LAYING ON OF THE APOSTLES' HANDS THE HOLY GHOST WAS GIVEN, HE OFFERED THEM MONEY, SAYING, GIVE ME ALSO THIS POWER, THAT ON WHOMSOEVER I LAY HANDS, HE MAY RECEIVE THE HOLY GHOST. BUT PETER SAID UNTO HIM, THY MONEY PERISH WITH THEE, BECAUSE THOU HAST THOUGHT THAT THE GIFT OF GOD MAY BE PURCHASED WITH MONEY. THOU HAST NEITHER PART NOR LOT IN THIS MATTER: FOR THY HEART IS NOT RIGHT IN THE SIGHT OF GOD. REPENT THEREFORE OF THIS THY WICKEDNESS, AND PRAY GOD, IF PERHAPS THE THOUGHT OF THINE HEART MAY BE FORGIVEN THEE. FOR I PERCEIVE THAT THOU ART IN THE GALL OF BITTERNESS, AND IN THE BOND OF INIQUITY!'"

"I see - so perhaps you perceive Wight as a Simon Magus analogue, who wield false magic to lead astray the unwary. What about Bears Armed?"

"CAIN SAID TO THE LORD, 'MY PUNISHMENT IS MORE THAN I CAN BEAR!'; HOW CAN I BEAR YOUR PROBLEMS AND YOUR BURDENS AND YOUR DISPUTES ALL BY MYSELF?"

"An interesting, if cryptic, conflation of Genesis and Numbers there.... But I sense that you feel that facing the ursines is a heavy burden to bear - and to think that some heretical mundies say you have no sense of humour, Fr. Basil! And lastly, Dorian and Sonya?"

"ELVES! NEAR-NAKED ELVES! FLESH! LUST! TEMPTATION! 'MORTIFY THEREFORE YOUR MEMBERS WHICH ARE UPON THE EARTH; FORNICATION, UNCLEANNESS, INORDINATE AFFECTION, EVIL CONCUPISCENCE, AND COVETOUSNESS, WHICH IS IDOLATRY: FOR WHICH THINGS' SAKE THE WRATH OF GOD COMETH ON THE CHILDREN OF DISOBEDIENCE'!"

"Colossians obviously being a favourite epistle of Fr. Basil's - and with Fr. Basil running off to hit the cameraman around the head with his pectoral cross while abusing him for his sinful, lustful, hypocritical ways, perhaps this is as good a time as any to break to the prayer for the hour...."

[Bears Armed]

“Well, the draw has been announced.”

“And?”

“You know the phrase ‘Group of Death’ that often gets bandied-about during the qualifiers?”

“Oh. So, who do we have? Three teams who are all ranked higher than urrs, even though we’re ranked at oneEight’th and there are only eight groups so that on average there shouldn’t be anybody else higher-ranked involved here?
“Maybeso even Valanora, The Holy Empire, and The Babbage Islands?!?”

“Urrgah! That hrreally hwould be a ‘Group of Death’. No, thank the Spirits, not quite that bad: Only one higher-ranked team, hwhich isn’t hrreally that surprising if you look at the odds statistically, and although that is Elves it’s actually The Sylvanes hrrather than Valanora… and them we have a somehwhat better hrrecord against.”

“Hokay… and the others, then?”

“One side that’s even holier than The Holy Empire…”
“That being maybeso their neighbours, or client-state, or hwhatever, The Archregimancy? Claiming that they want to lose instead of win, but not verry good at doing that?”

“Ayyuh.
“And then to complete the group — well, actually hrranked a few places above the Monks this time around — a side that’s’ actually from more of an “Unholy Kingdom" instead…”

“Urr’rmm?”

“ Wight !”

“Oh, spirits! So, hwhat sort of players are they fielding now? Not still undead and demons, is it?”

“Not so much nowadays, no, anyhows not according to the hrroster that they posted: More a case of some humans, some colonies of ants bound up in artificial skins so that each colony works as a single player, a talking Pig or two…”

“Hr’rmm.
“Well, that should be an interesting match, anyhows…”

“Ayyuh, that it should, for true.”


____________________________________________________________________

(Meanwhile, in the land of Barbary Salé — the city of Marroq — the establishment known as Hrrick’s Café Ursien _ )



Urrsa sits alone at her table. When a waiter passes by she requests _
“Will you ask the piano player to come over here, please?”

(Waiter) “Very well, Mademurselle.”


Commandant Citroen and Lieutenant Deux-Chevaux come up to the bar near Burger and Viktor.

(Deux-chevaux) “Still enjoying your ‘holiday’ here, M’sieur Burger?”


(Burger) “Yes, very good, very good indeed.” He turns to speak briefly with Errol ‘Not-that-one’ Flynn, the Café’s head bartender.
“May I have my check, please?”


(Citroen) “Too bad you didn’t come here earlier, Monsieur Pilsner. We had quite a bit of excitement this time last week, didn't we, Deux-Chevaux?”

(Deux-Chevaux) “Oh yes, poor Mr Garter…”

(Burger) “Er, yes. Excuse me, gentlemen.”

(Viktor) “My bill.”

(Citroen) “No. Two champagne cocktails, please.”

(Errol) “Yes, sir.”


Serm wheels in the piano to Urrsa's table. On his face is a rather worried look. Urrsa herself is not as self-possessed as she tries to appear. There is something behind this, some mystery.

(Urrsa) “Hello, Serm.”

(Serm)“Hello, Miss Urrsa. I never expected to see you again.”

He sits down, and readies himself to play.

(Urrsa) “It's been a long time.”


(Serm) “Yes, ma'am. A lot of pooh-sticks under the bridge.”


(Urrsa) “Some of the old songs, Serm.”

(Serm) “Yes, ma'am.”

Serm begins to play ‘Ev’ry Little Bug’. He is nervous, waiting for anything.

(Urrsa) “Where is Hrrick?”
(Serm) “I don't know. I ain't seen him all night.”

To anybody there who can read Ursine expressions, Serm looks very uncomfortable.

(Urrsa) “When will he be back?”

(Serm) “Not tonight no more. He ain't coming. Urr’rmm, he went home.”

(Urrsa) “Does he always leave so early?”

(Serm, in increasingly desperate tones) “Oh, he never... well... He's got a catgirl up at the Norwegian Blue: He goes up there all the time.”

(Urrsa) “You used to be a much better liar, Serm.”

(Serm) “Leave him alone, Miss Urrsa. You're bad luck to him.”

(Urrsa) “Play it once, Serm, for old time's sake.”

(Serm) “I don't know what you mean, Miss Urrsa.”

(Urrsa) “Play it, Serm. Play "The Teddy Bears’ Picnic”."

(Serm) “Oh I can't remember it, Miss Urrsa. I'm a little rusty on it.”
(Of course he can. He doesn't want to play it. He seems even more worried now.)

(Urrsa) “I’'ll hum it for you.”

Urrsa starts to hum.
Serm begins to play it very softly.

(Urrsa) “Sing it, Serm.”

And Serm sings_

"If you go down in the woods today you're sure of a big surprise;
If you go down in the woods today you'd better go in disguise;
For every bear that ever there was will gather there for certain
Because today's the day the Teddy Bears have their picnic."


The door to the gambling room opens. Hrrick comes swinging out. He's heard the music and he's livid.

"Every Teddy Bear who's been good is sure of a treat today;
There's lots of marvellous things to eat and wonderful games to play;
Beneath the trees where nobody sees, they'll hide and seek as long as they please;
That's the way the Teddy Bears have their picnic."

Hrrick walks briskly up to the piano.

(Hrrick) “Serm, I thought I told you never to play...”

As he sees Urrsa he stops short. Serm stops playing. (If this was a scene from a film then there would probably be two close-ups now, of Urrsa and Hrrick seeing each other.) Hrrick appears shocked. For a long moment he just looks at her.
Serm prepares to move the piano away.

[Licentiapacisterra]

Cyan-and-Gold Observer

Fans Declare Automatic Qualification

Cyan-and-Gold fans are in ecstasy with the hopes that they may top this World Cup group, after Taeshan, our rabbit’s foot, so to speak, were drawn, along with us, in Group D for the World Cup proper.

After attending the draw in San Donato, the capital of Carpathia and Ruthenia, Kelly Sporadic declared to a CaGO reporter, “We’re going to the f*cking World Cup Final !! F*cking YEEEESSSS !!” When Sporadic has calmed down sufficiently as if to give a calm, sensible answer, he stated, “I am incredibly happy with the result of the draw, as you can probably imagine !! Taeshan seem to be a lucky charm for us, so I’m confident that we can get things done.” When asked on the other competitors in the group, Polar Islandstates and Kiryu-shi, Sporadic was dismissive. “Who cares ?? We got Taeshan again !!”

In other news regarding the Cyan-and-Gold, Jack Kerr has been declared as ready to return to training with the team, just in time to fly out with the team to Porva, their base in the south-west of Carpathia and Ruthenia. Kerr has stated that he is delighted to be back in contention, and will give Moran a run for his money in the lead up to the tournament.

---

Hrrick’s Cafe
Marroq

Ellis Sanders was ready to confront Angus MacLachlan.

Skip had never seen himself as the confrontational type. But, in this situation, he didn’t have a choice. Luca had told him everything, and he needed to confront this guy, before the situation back home escalated again. While talks of revolution may have been calmed, Sanders knew that this man could light a spark under the Gaelic community as easily as lighting a match. It needed to end here, in this strange bar, in this strange city, in this strange country.

Sanders walked up to the room that he had been informed was MacLachlan, and chapped on the door. He was answered by a call from the room.

“Who is it ??” The shout almost startled Ellis, but he regained his cool before replying.

“A friend.”

“Which friend ??” The voice, presumably MacLachlan, within the room shouted.

“Friend Ellis.” Sanders heard a sigh, and then the door opened.

“Ellis Sanders ??” The man within was short, with glasses and a goatee beard. He looked like a film director, not a terrorist.

“Indeed. Angus MacLachlan ??”

“Indeed.” Angus showed Ellis into the room. Ellis took a seat on the sofa.

“Let’s get one thing straight here.” Ellis swept his hair to one side. “I have no problem with campaigning for Gaels to have more of a say. I’ve lived and worked in Abingdon all my life until fairly recently, Mr MacLachlan. I’ve seen what goes on there, and I would love for you and your community to have more of a say.” Ellis stopped a moment, as if thinking his next words through. “But, I don’t care what your cause is. When you fuck with my friends, you fuck with me. And, trust me, you do not want to fuck with me.”

“I understand, Mr Sanders.” Angus poured a small glass of whisky for himself. “Let me just make you aware, I have nothing to do with what goes on back home. I simply tell my people to get attention, and draw people towards the cause. I regret the injuries to your friends, certainly. That particular job was perpetrated by a member of my inner circle within the team itself.”

Ellis seemed shocked at this revelation. “Wha-, ho-, who ??” was all he could muster.

“Luca Mackay.” MacLachlan smiled at Ellis’ expression of shock. “Surprised ??”

Ellis stood up. “Thank you for talking to me, Mr MacLachlan. I have a plane to catch.”

“Enjoy Mr Sanders. Cyan-and-Gold forever.” MacLachlan smiled, as Ellis looked back, still in shock from the revelation of Luca's involvement.

[Mytannion]

2-2. There were only five minutes of the game left, every player still on the pitch was running on fumes. They all had little left in the tank, little left to give. Poor Iivari, he’d nearly collapsed with exhaustion in the first half of extra time and had had to be substituted off, Igor had come on, he was always reliable late on.

I was experienced, but I didn’t have the foresight that the gaffer had had, to not make the final substitution before injury time of the game at the earliest. If we had, we’d have made all three substitutions before extra time and have some exceedingly tired players on the field. Arefev had looked forward, knowing that Geisenfried had the momentum – and so left the final change as long as possible. So when they scored in the 88th minute, we were prepared to keep a change for extra time.

I didn’t always understand why manager’s got so much stick in the press, at domestic clubs anyway. With the national team, it was always a bit more obvious, the pressure of a whole nation on that one man’s shoulders – if the nation was as fanatical about football as my homeland, that is.
For most footballers, these weren’t the sort of thoughts that ran around their head whilst playing the beautiful game. It was different for me, it was an escape, a time to think about things that otherwise couldn’t be shoehorned into another area of my life. Everything was busy, training, travelling, playing. There was often very little time to actually – do – any thinking.

My time was now, when on the pitch. I almost subconsciously focused on the game, following the ball about, latching onto it and moving it on every so often. Sliding in to take it off the opposition when I had to – but that almost always came second to the thinking time I had. There were of course, a few exceptions, first time I’d ever played for Atletik, for SK Franz Josef City etc. But the main reason for this, for me, was to clear my head.

I now realised it was probably time to start concentrating on what was going on, Dobroslav had the ball and was running through the middle of the field, charging out towards the right hand side of the pitch. Artemiev was already making a run, but my midfield partner hadn’t noticed the run as of yet. Artemiev found himself offside, no point passing there now. Dobroslav poked the ball to Iuliu, my former rival at Olympic Thessia.

He ran down the right touchline with the ball as I moved towards the edge of the box, I should probably be sitting back, given that Dobroslav had gone roaming, but everybody was so tired that the spaces being left were huge. I’d always prided myself on keeping my fitness levels high – I wasn’t so tired, I could sprint a bit if needed to keep up with the play. I just positioned myself on the edge of the box, waiting to see what was going to happen.

Iuliu smashed the ball into the six-yard box, Artemiev was running in on it. Laze was waiting on and the penalty spot. Artemiev poked the ball towards goal, but the Geisen goalkeeper stuck a foot out and it popped away to Laze, he nodded the ball back to me. I trapped it, bringing it in and then set it for the shot, just giving myself space to swing at the ball.

I swung.

The ball flew into the top corner, the goalkeeper couldn't reach it. I tore away immediately, the pocket of Mytanar fans in the corner already going mental - I went towards them, sprinting over and sliding on my knees. Some fans were attempting to find their way onto the pitch, others were lighting flares, waving enormous flags and chanting. It was magnificent. It meant we would be going to the World Cup.

[The Babbage Islands]

Captain Donald Robert Wild, OB, BCG (Ret.)

It's a good time to be a Bumblebee footballer, and a better time to be a fan. By now all of these know that the World Cup draw puts Arna-Maggra's squad up against Yesopalitha, Swartaz, and Pasarga in that order. Thousands of words have been heard and uttered proclaiming this team or that team as locks to advance, both in Group B and across the field.

So let's talk about good things happening to good people.

Babbage captain Ava Gillespie was selected to play in a pre-cup charity match as part of a World XI facing a combined team from hosts Astograth and Carpathia and Ruthenia. The FC Torshavn defender who got her start at UMFK started at centre back for a squad led by the legendary, not to say immortal, Juan Tzimices of The Holy Empire. And two of her teammates were also from our Futbala Ĉampionado de Babaĝoj, starting fullback Lita Jaramillo from Aguazul and Blomfield National and reserve keeper Kaisa Cuban from High Heels and Sporting Boulder. A treble blow from Babbage for the fairer sex? Perhaps. Certainly they gave our fans a stake in the match. And as charity games are wont to do, it turned into an offensive festival won by the World XI 5-4 in extra time. Yes, they played extra time, an odd match condition but it gave the audience their money's worth. It also set the table for late-match heroics by Tzimices and some stellar goalkeeping by Cuban to slam the door in the extra periods. Forget about the three scored on Kaisa in regulation; in the last thirty we saw what the kid is really made of.

Margaret Svoboda and Parley Wilcox have plenty to be happy about as well. Like her father, big brother, and big sister Margaret is bound for World Cup glory. Not as a player, but as one of the 16 selected referees from as many nations who will work the Cup matches. FFB and FĈB officials have been high on Margaret ever since she took up officiating, and her delayed promotion to the international ranks has now been validated wonderfully. Sporting Boulder manager Katja Mira called Svoboda "the most gentlemanly ref in the game," a reference not to any masculine characteristics--she is in these eyes the most attractive of the three Svoboda daughters--but to her old school approach to calling unsporting conduct. Her steadfast insistence on fair play continues to win approval, and apparently not just here. Parley Wilcox is off to Wight as a member of the Cup of Harmony referee panel, which will no doubt please his father as he watches from his retirement.

I'll contribute my share of match reportage as the Yellow-and-Black play out their 14th World Cup group stage. Today, however, I simply tip my hat to good people being recognised around the world for their accomplishments. Well done.

[Polar Islandstates]

Another World Cup, another finals.

Yes, after the usual customary nerves in the latter half of qualifying as we slip up to give the second seeds a chance, the Terns found their way through for the seventh consecutive cycle.

This time, our main opponents were Kiryu-shi, and despite sharing two nil-nil draws with the fellow defensively minded side we found ourselves trailing hem with three games to go. They collapsed impressively in their last few games however, scoring only two from their final three group stage matches, and we ended up with more breathing space than you would have otherwise predicted.

The campaign was a tense one, and a tense one because once again we threw away points at home to weaker opposition, showing the kind of complacency that you never saw in Kirkkegaard's Terns side. Not that I've being overly critical of Schwartz here - I absolutely think he's the right man to be leading the Terns right now - its just that on occasion there does appear to be a certain belief amongst the players that all they need to do to win is turn up and be there, and that's simply not correct. Too many players were changed in the home game against Conclespia, and we were punished as a result. Punished, and humbled. We only conceded three goals in the whole of qualifying - which is a fantastic achievement - but two of them came in that match, and that's not good enough. In fact, all three goals we conceded in qualifying came at the Nasjonale, two against Conclespia and one against Rhodesiah in a one-one draw, and that's a record that simply has to change.

On the plus side, this has the flip side that we didn't concede at all away from home, including the mid-qualifying friendly against Astograth. Conceding at home but going eight consecutive clean sheets when visiting other nations seems to indicate that there's been a little bit of complacency at the Nasjonale. Away from the familiar surroundings of the national stadium in Franz Josef City, the players just seem to focus that little bit more, and they bring their top form with them in their suitcases. It's a fantastic record.

The positive thing about this is of course that the entire World Cup finals are going to be away from home. And based on our recent record, that's a good thing. There's al the fact that players are unlikely to be rested as they were in qualifying, and the lineup each match will be the best one available to Schwartz.

The players themselves have generally played pretty well. Putting Thorsen's performance at home to Conclespia to one side for a moment, the keepers each put in strong performances full of confidence and leadership, and Jan Rasmus has matured nicely into taking the gloves from Lars Hegg Gammel on a permanent basis. Also at the back, the partnership of Oyen-Spekke and Urfstadt has become a formidable one. As tightly bound now as Berg and Marek were, you might say that they are one of the multiverse's best centre-back pairings. Surely, the statistics speak for themselves. Tchepikov and Kindahl have also proved reliable characters to be able to call upon from the bench.

Zacharias Juul has arguably been one of our most consistent performers during his time with the Terns, and he has quietly gone about shining brightly for the national team in qualifying once again, fully deserving his call-up to the World XI as a result. Poor Dima Petersen hasn't had much of a look-in from the bench. Edvar Folke has also had a strong showing during qualification, but of increasing note are the performances of his understudy, Kohev Kungas-Vaga. The young Northbrook Diamonds left back has shown his exuberance and versatility in qualifying, replacing Folke in the starting line-up more than you might have expected him to. Clearly, Schwartz is a fan, and it's not hard to see why after his performance backing up in central defence in Triimoria and in the final group stage match against Conclespia.

Jorgen Hauge and Alexsandr van Sorensen almost need no introduction, but they're going to get one anyway. The two lynchpins of the side have continued to win plaudits, and they are quite simply the first two names on the team sheet. Alexsandr has been away for a bit of fun at the Fair Play Trophy with the rest of the Ides of March All-Stars side since the end of qualifying, and more on that later, and let's hope he has been rejuvenated and re-inspired by the experience. There is something the danger that we have become a little too reliant on these two, which is why its important to look at the rest of the midfielders as well.

Jorgen-Franz Bru has taken to his return to the starting lineup like a duck to water, and he is most definitely back to his dynamic best. Emrahn Vik and Niko Lepka have each performed satisfactorily without covering themselves in glory, but the performances of Sudesval and Cornelius from the bench have shown great promise.

Up front, there are no qualms whatsoever. This new defensive outlook on life has been unsurprisingly restricting our forays forward into opposition territory, but when we do our strike force have been lethal, doing just what they needed to do when they needed to do it - score goals. Elmsvikur and Kvitchenko continue to be the first choice pairing, yes, but the emergence of Saarinen and Illich-Svitych in the side has been great to see, and it shouldn't be too long until we see them scoring goals in the finals themselves.

So, that's how we got there - who will we face when we get there?

Right. Kiryu-shi first, then Taeshan, then Licentiapacisterra.

Okay. So, not an easy group at all.

First of all, Kiryu-shi of Atlantian Oceania. Having been faced with the Kiri twice during qualifying, we are fully aware that they will not be an easy nut to crack. We have faced them twice in our entire history as a nation, each time finishing as a goalless draw, so the match is sure to be a thriller. Ahem. One thing's for sure, the first person to score in the tie won't have found it easy to do so.

Secondly, Taeshan of Rushmore. Another team with a negative and defensive outlook on the football pitch, this could well be another war of attrition. Coming second of the three matches, this will arguably be the toughest of them all, with Taeshan being technically the second seed in our group. We know they'll be a tough side to face despite their stumble to qualification, needing a playoff win against Kinitaria after coming second in their group to Licentiapacisterra despite being top seed. They're likely to have something to prove, and this first meeting between our nations on the football pitch is a must-win match for us both.

Lastly, Licentiapacisterra of Esportiva. The side capable of bumping Taeshan to second in a qualifying group over fourteen matches is a side to be wary of, and that's exactly what we'll have to do when we play Licentiapacisterra for the first time in our third group stage match. They're relatively new to the international football scene, I believe this is their second appearance at the finals, and that means they'll be hungry. On paper, we're a stronger side and should just have the edge, but this is the World Cup finals, and anything could happen. In fact, just a quick glance at the rankings will tell you that - across the group, we're a pretty closely bunched group of four nations, and with all of us playing a defensive game it's going to be a group that is decided by very, very few goals.

Realistically, we should be aiming to make it out of the group, and any failure to do so by Schwartz and the side will be considered a major failure. We're back in the top eight ranked teams in the world, and the aim, as it was last cycle, has to be to reach the quarter-finals.

We will be playing in Carpathia and Ruthenia, rather than Astograth, which I'm quite excited about. I know Astograth is lovely and everything, but I've been there lots, so the trip to a new nation should be quite fun. The team will be joining Licentiapacisterra in being based in Porva. What's it like there? Well, I'll tell you when I get there and when I've had a look around. My flight isn't until the day of the first match against Kiryu-shi so you'l have to wait until then to get my view on the place. I'm sure it'll be lovely, though. I'm looking forward to it.

Now, lastly, just a quick comment or two on the Fair Play Trophy...

How awesome was that?!

I mean, the performance that they put in and the final position they finished in was all very good and very nice and blah blah blah blah yeah whatever. The most exciting part was seeing those players from years ago re-united on the football pitch, and even interacting and cooperating with the Astograthi players, who'd have thought it! Timo Skye, Ackermann-Finn, Marek, Berg, Demarchelier, Bielsen... I could go on. It was wonderful watching it all, even though it was like the film was being played in slow motion some times, and let's hope its not the last time those players get together. In fact, more all-star sides, full stop! van Sorensen looked inspired by seeing all those behemoths of the Polarian game that had come before him, too, and that can only be a good thing.

Anyway, I have some things to do before I prepare to leave for my plane in a couple of days, so I best get going. I'll be posting next when I get to Carpathia and Ruthenia I expect, when I've joined the masses of blue and white and green and the rest of the travelling Ostkurven regulars in supporting the Terns on another bid for World Cup glory.

Until then, toodle pip!

Eff

x

** ** ** ** **

"Come on, come on, come on!"

"Oh shut up, Skye, we've got loads of time."

"Yes but Wolfgang, you don't understand, the quicker we get there the more time we have in the VIP lounge!"

"There's a VIP lounge? You booked us first class tickets?"

"I did! Of course I did! Only the very best for my friend Wolfgang Lillehammer!"

"Oh, well, th-"

"And me."

"...what?"

"Only the best for me, too. I'm Timo Skye! Timo Skye doesn't travel business class! I mean, come on!"

"Right, well, anyway. You all packed?"

"Packed? I'm the one waiting for you, man! Come on! They have free nuts and beer at the VIP lounge!"

"Free nuts and beer? Timo you're a millionaire, you can buy all the nuts and beer you want. In fact, if you bought business class tickets you could have spent the money you saved on tickets on more nuts and beer than it would be possible to eat at all in the entire flight."

"Psh, that's not the point."

"Well I just think you're going about this nuts and beer based economically dependant sense of satisfaction the wrong way, that's all."

"You think what now?"

"Oh, doesn't matter. Which matches are we going to see, again?"

"Polar Islandstates vs Kiryu-shi, Polar Islandstates vs Taeshan, and then we have a little break with Aguazul vs Starblaydia, and then Licentiapacisterra vs Polar Islandstates."

"Ooh! I've heard of those ones."

"Which ones?"

"The ones we're not playing. The other two."

"Aguazul and Starblaydia?"

"Yeah, them. They've been successful in the past, or something like that."

"Just a little bit, yeah."

"Oh, good. I'm learning then?"

"At your own steady pace, Wolfgang, yes. At your own steady pace."

"Good."

"Speaking of your own steady pace, are you ready yet? The taxi to the airport will be here soon."

"Yes, yes, yes, come on then. Let's go! Off to the World Trophy!"

"Cup."

"Off to the World Cup!"

[New Montreal States]

Hugo Leclercq, Fred Nguyen and Julien Cormier had gathered in the latter's hotel room the night before the Paladins were due to leave for Astograth. Shiny Happy People magazine had put Leclercq and Nguyen in the top 10 of their list of NMS's most eligible bachelors, and Cormier wasn't too far behind them. Grantland Celebrity Sabermetrics LLC had announced that Nguyen's performance for the World XI before the kickoff of the World Cup had sent his Q rating to a level not seen in well over a decade. Now all three men were besieged by a torrent of social media messages from weirdos and were the subject of constant ribbing from their teammates over the occasional fan who brought a poster with a marriage proposal to the game. Their fan mail had likewise spiked in both volume and bizarreness. There wasn't much left to do about it, except make a game out of it.

"Alright, so let's go over the rules one last time. Make it official."

"We've got one point for every autograph request for an item that isn't a jersey, hat, trading card, blank piece of paper or photograph..."

"Right."

"One point for an unsolicited marriage proposal via internet, two via actual mail, and three via poster in the stands."

"Alright."

"Six points if someone tries to break into the restricted part of the stadium or the field specifically to meet one of us."

"I still think that was excessive."

"Yeah, well, this is a democracy and you lost. Finally, ten points if we get name-dropped in a song that breaks into the top forty."

"Great. And the stakes?"

"Second place pays for a post-Finals dinner for three. And last place pays for all the booze during the subsequent post-Finals night out. Provided we get at least three points, that is."

"Alright. Everybody shake hands. And if the weirdos come for us in person, gentleman, I can't think of better company to be trampled by a mob with."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ON TO ASTOGRATH

Paladins drawn into one of 8 Groups of Death

RUMIATZI, ASTOGRATH - After winning Group 7 with a day to spare - and a good thing, too, since the entire side decided to take off early during that final blowout loss to Whirsimir di Towel Quasimodofan - the Paladins packed their bags and waited for the group draw to let them know where they would be heading.

And the answer? Astograth; to play in Group H alongside the hosts (ranked #12) and world #10 Gyatso-Kai. Both the Olibondeka and the Bison have come into their own over the last two world cups, finally fulfilling their considerable potential. #37 Carmadin was drawn into the group from pot 4; a side definitely closer to the Paladins' level than the other two, but definitely capable of running the sky blue and silver off of the pitch if the Paladins

So will the Paladins break their 120-year win drought in the World Cup Finals? Let's take a closer look at the odds for each team:

#12 Astograth (hosts) - The Paladins will be thrown to the lions in this Cup, opening the tournament at Rumiatzi's Knights Stadium in front of what should be an incredibly enthusiastic home crowd. The fans will be cheering for a methodical, slow-developing but fundamentally impeccable style of football; the Paladins will need to finish strong on whatever opportunities they can finagle against the Olibondeka's defense. If the young NMS midfield loses their discipline, this could be a long night for the 'States.

#37 Carmadin - Matchday 2 will see the Paladins sent to the much smaller Arritzola to face the one side ranked lower than they are. Carmadin's side relies on varied formations and solid execution to get results; the 'States will need to overwhelm them in the midfield and prevent them from getting into rhythm. Both sides will think this is their best chance for a win and will be going for the gusto.

#10 Gyatso-Kai - The Paladins will remain in the Arritzola to face off against the Bison during the final matchday. Gyatso-Kai will no doubt be looking to pip the hosts for the top seed and will be unleashing the full fury of one of NS's best offensive fronts against the 'States. DMF Mike Gladden and the NMS back line will need to be playing at top speed to keep this game from turning into a turkey shoot for the Bison.

Can the Paladins get three points out of this? Sure. They might even get four if they catch a break or two. Why watch football if you're not going to be optimistic about it?

[Wight]

.

[Astograth]

((OOC: This RP is Kiryu-shi's; as the forums were down and he/she will be otherwise unable to post it before the cutoff, I am doing so))

Throughout these upcoming couple weeks, Sakaino University Publications will run a profile on one of the Coach’s Committee for the Kiryu-shi National Football Team. Co-Coach J.J. Erickson has given us the opportunity to ‘trail’ him throughout the World Cup.

J.J. Erickson no longer strikes an imposing figure anywhere on the football pitch, a bit shorter than most players and carries with him a bit of paunch, a clear indicator that he is not considering a return to the front lines of international football anytime soon. Indeed, ever since the series of injuries that plagued him a few years ago, he has made his presence known behind the scenes, leading Sakaino University’s football program for several years before being hired at Kasakake University as the Dean of Athletic Affairs, a position he held until he was asked to help lead this year’s World Cup.

Regardless of the success that he has maintained after his playing career ended, including leading Kiryu-shi to a championship in the 24th Di Bradini Cup, he has maintained a low profile in the nation, hardly ever involving himself in anything that explicitly attracts any type of attention.

—————

In Kiryu-shi’s previous match, a one-and-done playoff against Sargossa, Erickson spent most of the ninety minutes of play time silent, sitting in the corner of the enclosed bench of the Ximun Orieta Sporting Ground in Astograth. His presence was not obvious for anyone watching the televised broadcast; he displayed almost no emotion even when Kiryu-shi scored the decisive second goal with just four minutes left in regulation.

In fact, the only time he ever rose from his seat was with thirty two minutes played in the first half. It was telling - while most of the other Co-Coaches were on their feet and barking commands and exclamations for the entire time, Erickson’s only audible words throughout the match coming at that moment in the first half were, “Lilly, you’re moving too far up. Stay patient.”

—————

Kiryu-shi’s road to it’s championship in the Di Bradini Cup didn’t come as a particularly masterful display in any one aspect of football. It was hard-fought, and often ugly. The team barely escaped the group stage after it clung to a victory against Ko-oren, and it won it’s first knock-out match in penalties. What the team possessed, what put it over the edge in close matches against teams who were just as talented, seemed to be a sense that they expected to win, they were never mentally unprepared for the moment. Even in the final championship match over the hosts, Starblaydia, the team didn’t let the intimidating home crowd overwhelm their emotions, and won in relatively convincing fashion.

The path to World Cup 62 certainly held undeniable similarities to the Di Bradini Cup squad, with its lack of dominance despite only losing one match throughout qualifications. Matches were almost always tense affairs, with the Kiri managing to hold on to a win or a draw just enough to get them into second place in their eight team group. But the resilience was there, the sense that when it came down to matches that were important, they would be there to fight and even to win. The two defining matches against Polar Islandstates, both ending with scoreless draws. The aforementioned playoff match, which was the first international victory by over two goals for the Kiri since the eighth match of qualification. And it is these qualities that are the defining mark of a team led by J.J. Erickson…

Continued on page C-22

_____________________________________________________

A letter penned to interested individuals of the
Sakaino Athletic and Performance Arts Committee,
with respects,

We have noted your University’s recent report on J.J. Erickson, one of the junior members of the Coaching Staff for the Kiri, and have to say we are surprised that such a piece of journalistic dribble was allowed to hit the press. Such a biased, inaccurate, ridiculous piece of writing we have never experienced. You should know that, if, by chance, we hold Polar Islandstates off - it will come in spite of the incompetence that Mr. Erickson represents.

Based on this piece of biased journalism, and other actions we have taken to understand as hostile to our University and to our diplomatic relations via our national football team, we have given a formal recommendation to our University Board that Sakaino University be handed a formal warning and be put on academic probation by our National University Committee.

The Kasakake University Committee on International Affairs
Kasakake University
Premier Kiryu-shi Governance

[Astograth]

The World Cup, a monumental event. What every footballer in the world - nay, every football fan - dreams of winning. The cup only a select few get to touch, an infinitesimal fraction of those who don't. Only some, out of thousands and thousands, ever get to even play for it. Fewer still get to play for it in their own country; only seventy of the hundreds to compete have held the finals. Seventy... now seventy-two. Seven have won the most coveted sporting prize in the multiverse on home soil, and it reads like a who's who of world football: Europa Brittania, Rejistania, Bedistan, Casari, Ariddia, Capitalizt SLANI and Valanora (twice).

It was tempting to think that could happen here. The opening celebrations at Grand Duke's Stadium had been magnificent, and if everything went their way they'd be there again for the semifinal. From there, nought but the most watched, most commented, most famous of all football matches. The one everybody wants to be a part of, the one so many world-class players live and die without ever getting close. The one of which there have only been sixty-one, amidst a million international fixtures. So many, so little; so close, so far. That's football, and sport in general. Not just triumph, but that of the few. The bitterness of defeat, making the win so much sweeter.

When Urtzi Galard played this World Cup, he wouldn't play for himself. Or at least not just for himself; he didn't want that. He was there for more than himself, and not necessarily because he'd inherited Cheru Larretape's blue captain's armband. Well, yes, partly because he was the leader of this team and it wasn't just any team, but Olibondeka. He'd come full circle, bursting from the youth ranks of Royal Rumiatzi and onto the U21 squad for Astograth's first Di Bradini Cup, edition 17. Aged seventeen, but a child, he put on the olive green for the first time and marched out to meet Starorentia. He never looked back.

Now he was 31, a veteran of the Astograthian game. Consistently chosen as the best left-back in the First Division, vice-captain of the only club he'd ever known, the tenth most-capped national team player and a winner of more trophies and prizes than he cared to remember. Now he held the most respected position in his country's football, and he had to act the part - not that it was very difficult, having learned from the example of Ubelteso Adin at club and country.

But he didn't play for his teammates. They were living the dream exactly like him, and could fend for themselves. No, he played for the fans who unfurled the banners of Atochako Amayera at every game. He played harder for the ones who couldn't afford to. He played for the ones who didn't care, so that they might. He played for the Sunday League amateurs who dream of scoring the last-gasp winner. He played for the ones who dreamed of seeing him lift the World Cup. He played for the ones who'd seen him grow up. For the ones who'd trained him. For the ones who'd perfected him. For the ones who trusted him, who believed him, who took a gamble on him.

He played for the ones who're no longer among us. For Gartzen Treko, who hadn't gotten to see his country past the group stage. For all the great footballers of old, for the immigrants, for the founders, those who'd passed away yearning to see Olibondeka at a World Cup, nevermind right in their backyard. He played for the ones whose time was past. For Edorta Urrustoy, for Estebe Bularte, for Milian Erburu, for Soter Sarlange, for Dei Ormache, for Cheru Larretape, for those who set them on their way without tasting World Cup gold - or any gold at all. He played for the Iturributans, the ones who'd left but were as much a part of the national team as Galard. For Zernin Aira, the eternal goalkeeper. For his old friend Zuzen Barta, with whom he'd terrorised the left wing for so many years and at so many levels.

He played for the ones who weren't good enough, for those who had to suck up rejection. For those who were too old, or too young, or simply and sadly not talented enough. For those who'd spent the majority of their lives perfecting their craft only to miss out on the biggest sporting event in the multiverse, in their own country.

He played for the ones who envied him. That they had reason to. That he turned it around, and made them proud.

He played to win the World Cup; pure defending, real football. And on the pitch of Knights' Stadium, the home of Royal Rumiatzi where he was king, that thought made him happy.

[Yesopalitha]

Nirdasil's Corner Exclusive

Starting Lineup against The Babbage Islands:

Housen - Galvin - Von Helz - Kevin - Dostoevich, I. - Jack-Bentley - Vander Rox, H. - Vander Rox, J. - Cecile-Marie - Dostoevich, N. - Carheim

Notable Exceptions: Calhoun

With his mother in the hospital under critical care, and having to consider whether he may want her to be immortalized (turned into a Vampire), Manager Sir James Handel pulled Jonah Calhoun for the opening match against The Babbage Islands.

"He deserves time to be with her," stated Manager Handel, "Although football for the country is important, family is more so. He is free to take as much time as he needs. We think that Terrance will be more than suitable."

Housen hasn't been tested in any of the matches he's started in, as he's only started in matches against sides that Yesopalitha was heavily favored to win.

To support Calhoun, the entire team will wear pink headbands for the match, even the men.

Will this bring the Flames closer together, or will the loss of their starting keeper hurt them even more? Only time will tell.

[Valanora]

Laborious looked out over the horizon at a rising sun, its colors brushing against the backdrop of the sky, lighting up that which had been dark. It was like the cycle of life, of nations, of powers that are and come to be in any form of the world. In his years he had observed how all things were cyclical, that nothing withstood the test of time but time itself and how history repeated. Even as immortals, he and his countrymen did not stand the test of time, not in truth. Many mortals held to the notion that an individual did not change in their lives, could not change even some claimed. There were phrases such as "Once a cheater, always a cheater." and other various things that spoke of such merit in people not changing.

Laborious knew the truth, people were constantly changing, in every minute of every day they changed. He was not the same man he was when he was just a child or when he was discovered by Hondo FC. In fact, people changed more often than they did not change, the world changed and evolved. Dinosaurs no longer were the dominant group of the planet, a single religion no longer defined a hemisphere, a person was more than the status of their parents.

So to did it change in sports, he had helped guide and rework that change time and time again. Where would the World Cup have gone if not for he and the Marauders back in those mid thirty to late forty editions? Were still had power shifted if not for the title in fifty two and their last one in the previous edition? He and the Marauders were a force of change, but not a single solitary force, their were forces of change a plenty. Starblaydia and their RAWRCRUSH mentality, the girl power nations who tried to demonstrate superiority or equality of men and women, AO, Rushmore, One Big Island. The forces were everywhere and in many faces.

The task at hand then was to be like the rising sun, to rise again with each cycle and spread anew. Last cycle they might have been victors, but now there were just another team of thirty-two looking to lift the trophy. The records to be broken didn't matter, qualifying statistics didn't matter, the given ranks of any nation were meaningless. It was the players and the effort, the skill and the luck, the drive and will to take what was there to be taken and defend what was yours to defend. And he would lead that charge for the Marauders, but would it be enough? A month would show that course, a month to prove once more that he was the best there was and ever could be.

[Pasarga]

No one quite knew what the next month held in store for the Wanderers. The draw had not been favorable, but they were still a solid pick to advance out of the group they had been given. If only such prediction held sway over the randomness that seemed to ensue every two years at some new exotic location, then maybe Pasargans could have hope! Yet they were to be glad that they did not, for they would not have become close to being an elite footballing power.

Yet with a team like Yesopalithia to contend with, such was the wary of every Pasargan who cared an ounce for the national team. They were a bunch who had showed to be more than their reckoning and rank lead on, that they would be a tough match even for the likes of Valanora and the Holy Empire, much less a middliing power like the Wanderers. Indeed the draw had not been a kind thing when Yesopalithia came out to be in the Wanderers group, but these things seldom were unless you were a top seed.

Indeed, tough a schedule they had, but Leon Cole believe that it could be navigated to glory, perhaps even a quarterfinal or semifinal appearance. If luck was his, he could score a few goals while the squad was at it, ease the burden and maybe get the scouts eye from big domestic clubs across the world. This was the scene to do it, this was the play to become a hero.

[Astograth]

RP CUTOFF FOR MATCHDAY ONE

Scores for the day are available here and here

[Vilita]

Tiger Eaters eat Jungle Cats

Unbeaten Vilita Throws it All Away in Carpathia and Ruthenia

Some might blame Aranora Jaded. Others might blame referee Claude Renault of Sicoutimont. The reality of the situation is, though, the Vilita Jungle Cats were just plain junk against Akbarabad in the opening matchup of the World Cup 62 Finals.

From the outset, Vilita looked flat as the Tiger Eaters expanded their feline feast eating up every play the Jungle Cats tried to develop.

Nycflala Kater held his own in the early going to keep the score level at the half but picked up a knock after leaping over 3 players to punch the ball clear on a corner kick just a few minutes before the half.

Unable to recover, Aranora Jaded came off the bench at half time and led the Jungle Cats to their first regular time defeat since the World Cup 61 group stage.

It may be unfair to blame Jaded as the Vilitan defense was not stopping much, allowing attack after attack from Akbarabad to penetrate into space. It was a build up that started from Renault's opening whistle and culminated in the 49th minute opener by Rezaul Karim on a cold and tense Jaded.

It was less than 10 minutes later when substitute striker Aleksandr Serov, who plays his trade at Akbarabad City, doubled the Tiger Eaters advantage and shut the Jungle Cats out of the game with no way back, leaving the team and its massive fanbase left to wonder if there was any hope of climbing out of such a deep hole with the groups top seed still to play.

Of course, there is some hope for Vilita, who has faced the Socialist States Owen once before in recent times, holding the highly rated side to a 0-0 draw after 90 minutes before falling 1-0 in extra time. If the Jungle Cats can learn from that experience, and channel the frustration from the opening match defeat, its entirely possible they can secure the three points they need, couple with a necessary victory over Michael VII, to have a chance at returning to the World Cup's knockout phase again.

Editors Commentary:

I can't believe the Jungle Cats did it again. Three straight World Cup's they've gone into the finals with a massive unbeaten run, loads of momentum and a not-terribly-difficult draw ahead of them.

Three finals in a row they've come out flat, and essentially been eliminated after the first result. Of course, you're always going to feel that way if you don't win the first match of a 3 match set, but realistically, theres no way back for the Jungle Cats now. Even if they do manage to beat the Social States Owen, the best they can end up on is 6 points. Which is most likely what Akbarabad will end up on, and most likely what the FSSO will end up on as well.

The only real chance for the Jungle Cats to qualify at this point is for Akbarabad to draw with Michael VII. Consider Michael VII is the lowest ranked and least experienced nation in the entire tournament, such a result would seem unlikely, but its really what the Jungle Cats have to hope for to have any shot at advancing.

Of course, all this conjecture is predicated on the idea that the Vilitan National Team can defeat the FSSO, which is highly unlikely in itself.

And while we're at it, damn that Akabarabadian Goalkeeper. Tariq Iqbal. Just say it out loud. Tariq Iqbal. Iq this and Ick that - I mean, as the sound reverberates in your neck you just get pissed off making that sound. I'm so glad I wasn't the announcer having to refer to Tariq Iqbal every time the Jungle Cats made an attempt at goal that Ick-ball turned aside or gathered up on his way to keeping a clean sheet.

I don't value my job as editor, but I do value my ability to go with the flow, and right now the flow sucks. You know what, Mitaroka sucks too.

Lets face it Jungle Cat fans, this is his second finals as head coach and what has he done?

Alright, they snuck through during World Cup 61 on just 4 points. FOUR points. Thats not how Group C is going down. If Vilita decide to show up against the FSSO then theres a pretty good shot that someone is going to get eliminated on 6 points, and starting in an 0-2 hole against Akbarabad is the perfect way to ensure that team will be the Jungle Cats.

Its time to think radically, and yes, I'm speaking to the Football Association of Vilita here. Its obvious that Calaesa Mitaroka is one of the best coaches in Vilitan history at navigating the trials and tribulations of a World Cup Qualifying Campaign. He can piece the team together for the long haul, understands what needs to be accomplished and gets the job done. He's simply not a Finals manager. There is no room for mistake in the Finals and thats not Mitaroka's style.

I propose that the Football Association of Vilita bring Mitaroka back for World Cup 63 Qualifying. But make it clear, the job is NOT his when it comes time to the Finals for World Cup 63, make it or not. If he does well, he can return for World Cup 64 Qualifying - but if the Jungle Cats can't recover from this defeat to Akbarabad, then its time to give someone else a shot managing this team in the World Cup Finals, no matter how good they do in Qualifying.

/Editors Note

	Akbarabad
:: Goalscorers :: :: None ::	:: Goalscorers :: :: 49' Rezaul Karim :: 57' Aleksandr Serov,
:: Best Player: Ritopa Simafela :: Worst Player: Lita Adjei :: Shots on Target: 4 :: Corner Kicks: 2	:: Best Player: Rezaul Karim :: Worst Player: Tariq Iqbal (Editor Bias, he actually was playing well) :: Shots on Target: 6 :: Corner Kicks: 8

Vilita Jungle Cats (3-(1-4)-2) ::
[GK] Nycflala Kater, [D] Uajiala Pulkki, [D] Miiara Makose, [D] Ritopa Simafela, [DMC] Retiso Buran, [ML] Jomur Hulyer, [MC] Riksa Valjariia, [MC] Kiroki Mitaroka, [MR] Steffyn Siazzu, [FC] Lita Adjei, [FC] Sirkii Moliaudo
BENCH::
[FC] Viji-mara Lawaai, [FC] Erocka Lorei, [M] Rexii Tzikas, [M] Manolis Kontalroma, [U] Tujamu Treola, [D] Niubo Deneli, [GK] Aranora Jaded

Vilita Substitutions::
(20) - Riksa Valjariia >>> Rexii Tzikas
(45) - Nycflala Kater >>> Manolis Kontalroma
(45) - Lita Adjei >>> Aranora Jaded

(For Future Statistical Reference)
GK :: Nycflala Kater 5

D :: Uajiala Pulkki 9
D :: Miiara Makose 5
D :: Ritopa Simafela 8

DMC :: Retiso Buran 6

ML :: Jomur Hulyer 9
MC :: Riksa Valjariia 5
MC :: Kiroki Mitaroka 9
MR :: Steffyn Siazzu 6

FC :: Lita Adjei 5
FC :: Sirkii Moliaudo 5

Vilitan Subs Bench:
FC :: Viji-mara Lawaai DNP
FC :: Erocka Lorei DNP
M :: Rexii Tzikas 6
M :: Manolis Kontalroma 6
U :: Tujamu Treola DNP
D :: Niubo Deneli DNP
GK :: Aranora Jaded 5

[Jeru FC]

Jeru FC assistant coach Melody Pond and player Felicia Day ...

Felicia: Ha, we beat the Purple Menace!
Pond: We should have and well did
Felicia: Harder work than expected though
Pond: They always play well against us
Felicia: Well, Cannonettes rule!
Pond: There is no word as cannonettes.

Felicia: Sounds more feminine than Cannons
Pond: Hey, that's our nickname. The real one.
Felicia: Dunno, I get called all sorts of things.
Pond: Not you, the team.
Felicia: Oh that, now it makes sense.
Pond: All we need is another win and that should make us feel a little safer.

Felicia: A draw wouldn't really settle much
Pond: No, we can end up with all teams on 4 points sometimes
Felicia: That sounds awful
Pond: Could happen
Felicia: We'll be OK
Pond: You realise we just beat Princess M's boyfriend's team.

Felicia: But she'd prefer we win anyway.
Pond: Qazox got beaten 3-1 by a bunch of elves.
Felicia: Oh those bunch of elves
Pond: I guess they are number 1
Felicia: It's no shame
Pond: I guess it isn't

Felicia: The hosts Carpathia and Ruthenia lost to Aguazul 1-0
Pond: C&R aren't exactly a top seed
Felicia: I guess it's good if the two top seeds get two wins each
Pond: I guess it's make us safe for the 2nd round
Felicia: It will indeed
Pond: Hoy, why are called Pony? You don't exactly own one.

Felicia: More to do with my childhood Pony
Pond: Giving too many free rides?
Felicia: Um, no no. Not that
Pond: Well, I want to know.
Felicia: I used to collect My Little Ponies.
Pond: You seen Princess M's doll collection?

Felicia: No
Pond: She's got Barbie doll for every female Dallas family member and her friends
Felicia: Including yourself
Pond: Yes, well ...
Felicia: I'd like to have one too
Pond: You're not quite famous enough

[Qazox]

Hello once again NSverse 1.0 (if you are not currently located within NSverse 1.0, please insert the correct NSverse version as appropriate for your local spatial-linear time frame), I'm Dr. John Laeter of the University of Qazox (Qazox City). As stated before, I am allowing unprecedented access to historical spatial-linear time frames other than the main one your specific nation resides in currently for research in historical and/or sociological differences between different spatial-linear time frames of your nation. A slight impurity within the liquid Vibranium, a small amount of Thallium-204 was found in the mixture, which has changed my viewer. Due to the Thallium-204, the viewer can only look at alternate futures existing at least 400 years into the future. I will report on these future SLT's, but will I forewarn now that these futures are only glimpses of what can be, and not actual history (unless a current nation exists in a future time frame than the common NSverse 1.0's time frame).

NSVerse 5.49: The Fall of Raynor City August 17th-23rd, 4923 ACE/24917 VALtime
For a civilization that has existed for longer than human civilization, one would think that they would have a way to prevent or at least accurately predict earthquakes. While most of the Vanorians had moved on into space or other locales, a small group had reamined in their homelands. Early in the morning hours of August 17th, 4923; an 8.7 earthquake struck 45 miles northwest of Raynor City with numerous aftershocks reaching 7.0 on the Richter Scale. The quake destroyed a dam built on the Arewl River which send over 19 quintillion galllons of water downstream. By the dawn, most of Raynor City was submerged and over 189,000 had been killed and over 500,000 missing or injured. The water also destroyed the cites of Bree, Turmondale and Soldar; the wave, upon hitting the mouth of the Arewl River forced water over 75% of the Island of Capri before it dissapated in the Secocia Sea over 2500 miles from the Valanoran coast. Six days later, a second massive quake, measuring 7.3 on the Richter Scale, struck near the orginal epicenter; causing over 67,000 more deaths and over 150,000 more missing or injured. A total of $4.7 trillion in damages was caused by the quakes.

Given the amount of devistation to area, and that most, if not all, of Valanora's goverment had moved into an orbiting space station years before the quakes, the Raynor City area was declared a histotical disaster site. By 7328 ACE/27322 VALtime the Raynor City area was one of the largest national parks in AO, proving that out of tragedy life still fights on.

[i]QAZOX SPORTS
Eagles beaten by Elves (once again)

Two first half goals from Tûrin Aerataur (33rd and 40th) gave Valanora a 2-0 lead at halftime; but in the second half, if not for a incorrectly called offsides, Qazox could have earned a good draw. In the 59th minute, Quentin Rashaad got behind the Vanorian defense and slammed home a goal that made it 2-1; but the side judge had thrown up the offsides flag, despite Rashaad beign 2 yards behind the offsides call. While Rashaad argued with Amina Rahim; Valanora's Laborious Hawk scored just minutes later (62nd) to make it 3-0. A late junk goal from Rashaad in the 84th minute kept Qazox from being shutout. Now Qazox will have to face Mytannion, 1-0 winners over Chenkorya earlier in the day. Qazox needs to just not lose to keep their chances of a 2nd round appearance alive.


(ooc: is it good luck or bad luck that I correctly predicted the score of my game v. Valanora???)

[Taeshan]

X Island Inquirer

That is how you win a football game. Screw the pregame hype, screw the fact that Licentiapacisterra has a surprisingly good record against the men from Taeshan. Previous matches don't matter in the 90 minutes you play on the day. The Knights proved that they were by far the better team on matchday 1 of the world cup finals. 2-0 over their seemingly linked at hip opponents from Licentiapacisterra. With a tie between the other teams in the group(Polar Islandstates and Kiryu-shi) in the later game, the Knights not only lead the group, but a win on either of the final matchdays, or two ties would go a long way in advancing the men in purple and gold. Now the team has but to get results, and they very well could make it to the round of sixteen for a second straight time.

There was an obvious disparity in the talent on the field. It was almost as if the Knights' opponents had failed to prepare for the world cup in the days and weeks before it. The Knights had more speed, and creativity for the 90+ minutes on the field. The first goal came early as Ender Wiggin pounced on a Jordan Jaffacake corner in the 8th minute. From then on it was more of a could the Knights add to their lead, or would the Licentiapacisterra defense and goalkeeping manage to hold of the rising tide. In the end the second and final goal on the night came from substitute Manny Pato in his first ever cap for the Knights, after seemingly being hurt for much of qualifying, as he curled in a shot off of a header out of the box by a Licen defender. The Knights won the day, and now must prepare for a Polarian team coming of a hard fought tie against Kiryu-Shi. Ready to unleash after a scoreless draw.

[Legalese]

The assistant raised his flag straight in the air as the ball bounced off the ad boards behind the end line.

Figures, thought Gabe. the one man who should know who touched it last has no clue.

Gabe, on the other hand, did know. He saw Kelvin attempt the corral the ball in before it got away from him, rolling out of bounds. Fortunately, it wasn’t his call to make.

Gabe turned away, knowing the call that was coming next, and looked up at the scoreboard, showing no tallies for either Legalese or Cosumar. This had been a bad day.

---

As he had been leaving the hotel this morning, a small throng of reporters followed. Gabe recognized a few: Bill from the Sagdineo Post, Jim from The Tiberian, Nate from the Island Sun, and even Jeannie from the Binchensburg Trader-Pennysaver, the only weekly to send press.

And of course, there was also Serena, from The Docket. Gabe couldn’t help but smile when he saw her, possibly the only reporter he actually liked.

“I must admit, Hammy,” he said to his assistant confidentially one day. “I’m a bit fond of her. Not exactly ‘divide-the-assets with Miranda’ fond, but I like her. Smooth, friendly, and knowledgeable.”

“Nice face too, right?” Hamish replied, winking.

Gabe laughed. “Yeah, you could say that.”

---

Gabe looked at his Cosumari counterpart, on the other half of the same touchline. His face showed a look of incredulity, prompting Gabe to turn around and look at the Turori referee.

Figures,he thought. An AO opponent, in a match officiated by an AO official, in a World Cup half-hosted by an AO nation, taking place in Rushmore.

His thoughts short-circuted as the official pointed towards the corner, signalling for a Legalese corner kick.

---

“Excuse me?” he had said to Serena, trying to buy time.

Serena dimmed her smile slightly. “Sources have been reporting that you’re planning to announce your retirement after the competition. Any comment?”

“My plans are always up in the air immediately after, as you well know,” he had replied. “Bernie and I will have a talk about them after we get through the finals. All I care about is tonight’s match with Cosumar.”

As he prepared to turn away, Serena hit him with a retort.

“That’s the thing, Gabe. The source that I have is reporting that your exit will happen, whether you like it or not. They seem to think that you’ve lost touch.”

Gabe whirled around and gritted his teeth. “That’s a conversation between myself and the Federation staff, and one that I”m sure will help you sell newspapers, but means precisely nil when it comes to getting through tonight. Come watch the match if you want to see if we’re on our game.”

---

With the clock nearing minute number 65, Gabe was now regretting that comment. The way that the team were playing, coming up all sixes and sevens would be an improvement. Kelvin was losing dribbles left and right; Phil let two forwards through at one point, alone on Tarquin; even Archie lost his nerve, taking an early yellow that had him playing carefully throughout.

If not for Tarquin practically standing on his head all night, there’s no question that we’d be down, he thought, as Monte lined up to take the corner.

On the pitch, the movement started. Bassford went for the front post, hoping to put a shorter kick into the middle; Garry struggled for position on the back post with a Cosumari defender, hoping to be there for a garbage goal if needed; Jimmy went on a distraction run to the near side of the penalty area, pulling a defender with him.

Monte took the strike, a hard ball with a little lift, looking to be playable at from about eight yards out and on the near side. Or alternately, right where the Cosumari following Jimmy had been, and exactly where Liam found himself, striking the ball with his head and past the keeper. 1-0.

As Liam slid to the ground, mobbed by the rest of the lineup, Gabe turned and motioned to the reserve, Sherwood Hendry, wearing number 21.

“Woody,” he said. “You’re in for Jimmy. Orders are to send Sam back into the defensive line, and play a five-man middle with Garry as the attacking mid, and you and Jack as the defensive mids. It’s a possession game now!”

Hendry nodded as he headed to the middle and informed the fourth official. The final half-hour continued much like the first hour, and the Legal Eagles had their first World Cup finals win off home soil.

---

Guarded relief washed over the team afterwards, as many changed quickly, and prepared to return to the hotel, so that they could get some relaxation in before tomorrow’s training session. One-by-one, the players trickled out, leaving only Gabe and Hamish in the locker room.

Gabe sidled up to his assistant. “So. I heard a funny story today. Apparently the Fed thinks I’m not in the game any more. I wonder where they’d get that idea from.”

[Sicoutimont]

Forget where you are. Forget what you're there for. That's what passed through Claude Renault's mind as he touched down in Astograth for the first game he would ref at the World Cup finals. That very night, 2 teams would begin there campaign for glory after the whistle of Renault blew. Renault knew he had to be flawless. He couldn't be perfect; no football referee is, but he could be flawless. He stepped into the stadium, got his things set in order, and left his past thoughts in his dressing room. The time was now, and the teams were Vilitia and Akbarabad. He stepped out onto the pitch as the anthems rang throughout the stadium. Then, suddenly, without him even doing it, like just a mental skill he had picked up, his whistle blew. The game had began. This was the most important game he had ever refereed in his life.

47 minutes later......
Renault stepped off the field. Nothing really major had happened, just a few calls here and there for outs, 2 or 3 corners, and 2 minutes added for injury time. He wondered what would happen next: the Akbarabad offense was pouring on and on, and Vilitia did not seem to be able to stop it. It is the natural instinct of each ref to wonder about the result of the game, and Renault was no different. He could almost not hear it over the roar of the crowd, but he knew to go right back out. A sharp whistle blast later, and the 2nd half had begun.

48 minutes later......
The result had been expected for Renault, the Akbarabad team did seem to be playing better football. It seemed from the 2nd minute that they would be the winning team. But the way they had been able to do it, 2 goals in under 10 minutes to set the Jungle-Cats from Vilitia right off course. It was a blitzkrieg of elegance, pure passing skill, that had led to the victory. A few Vilitian substitutions occured, but in the end nothing would change the result. Renault left the pitch, went to bed, and started too think about his next game.

World Cup 62 Finals Match Report-Vilitia vs Akbarabad
Referee: Claude Renault, Sicoutimont
3' Corner Kick, Vilitia
6' Corner Kick, Akbarabad
25' Substitution, Vilitia
45' Substitution, Vilitia
45' Substitution, Vilitia
49' Goal, Akbarabad:Rezaul Karim
51' Corner Kick, Vilitia
54' Corner Kick, Akbarabad
54' Corner Kick, Akbarabad
58' Corner Kick, Akbarabad
59' Goal, Akbarabad:Aleksander Serov
64' Corner Kick, Akbarabad
78' Corner Kick, Akbarabad
79' Corner Kick, Akbarabad
92' Corner Kick, Akbarabad
Corners: Vilitia 2, Akbarabad 8
Cards: Vilitia 0, Akbarabad 0
Subs: Vilitia 3, Akbarabad 0
Final Score: AKBARABAD 2-VILITIA 0

The match report Renault handed in that night wasn't overly detailed, and tells a story of a boring game. But he would take it, his first World Cup Finals game.

[Alasdair I Frosticus]

OOC - I'll be adapting several famous (and more obscure) stories and epics from RL - some historical, some modern - to tell the story of the Holy Empire in WC62 as if taken from excerpts of an academic paper on the subject. First person to send me a TG correctly identifying the original source each match day can have their country as the source of the next inscription/epic used; you may specify some RP details about the site/period/etc relating to the inscription. Given this is Maklohi Vai's second turn, I've switched from his nation's past into the unimaginable far-flung future. The 'ancient Polynesian' in the final sentence is Tuvaluan, cribbed from the often useful Omniglot website.

OOC 2: Nobody got this one - it was Cordwainer Smith's short story Alpha Ralpha Boulevard; in the original story the characters are made French.

ORDINARY REALITY HISTORY
A Journal of the Imperial Institute of Mundy Studies

Dreamed Realm Figures in Mundy Myth
A Case Study of Juan Tzimisces and World Cup 62

Zoe Argyro
Department of Mundy Studies
The Imperial University

World Cup Matchday 1 - Valladares

The period between World Cup qualification and the World Cup 62 finals had not been uneventful for Juan Tzimisces. He had coached the World XI against the hosts' combined squad - and then substituted himself into the game, setting up the winning goal for his side. He also caused some controversy by referring to star Slembana forward Val Kylx as 'wildly overrated' and 'hopelessly unfit', blaming Kylx's inability to replicate his national side scoring form for the World XI on the latter. "I only brought him on as a sub to keep the organisers happy" Tzimisces said in a trenchant, no-holds-barred interview, "but it was clear that he's simply not in good enough shape to either play a full match or sit on the bench and then come on as a sub; unless he does something to address his inability to last the distance, the man's an embarrassment to international football and a disgrace to a 'World XI'; hopefully today's events will serve as a wake-up call and he'll make the effort necessary to get himself into shape. There's some potential there if he can do something about his appalling lack of fitness."

Tzimisces comments caused a storm of outrage in some circles - not all of them by any means from Slembana - who thought the World XI match should be a celebration of football rather than a lightening rod for controversy. But then Tzimisces had never been one to avoid the difficult issues, and as he was later quoted as saying "look, everyone's thinking precisely the same thing - they're just too scared to say it. Sometimes you just have to tell it like it is; I wouldn't be doing the lad any favours if I tried to mollycoddle him - and frankly it's no wonder Slembana struggle in international football if their best player isn't even fit enough to play the full 90."

Under the circumstances, the actual first World Cup match against Valladares was somewhat overshadowed, but both the Kylx controversy and the Valladares match were the subject of mythic bleed in a story dating some 16,000 years - in Ordinary Reality time - after World Cup 62, when what had once been the nation of Malokhai Vai had been transformed beyond recognition, and some aspects of its Polynesian heritage were being both actively rediscovered and intentionally reintroduced in a far-flung future that must have been almost unimaginable to mundies during that World Cup.

We were drunk with happiness in those early years. Everybody was, especially the young people.

These were the first years of the Rediscovery of Polynesia, when our rulers dug deep in the treasury, reconstructing the old cultures, the old languages, and even the old troubles. The nightmare of perfection had taken our forefathers to the edge of suicide. Now under the leadership of our wise rulers, the ancient civilizations were rising like great landmasses out of the sea of the past.

I myself was the first man to put a postage stamp on a letter, after fourteen thousand years. I took Vailea to hear the first pātē recital. We watched at the eye-machine when cholera was released in Nukulaelae, and we saw the Nukulaelaens dancing in the streets, now that they did not have to be protected any more.

Everywhere, things became exciting. Everywhere, men and women worked with a wild will to build a more imperfect world.I myself went into a hospital and came out Polynesian. Of course I remembered my early life; I remembered it, but it did not matter. Vailea was Polynesian, too, and we had the years of our future lying ahead of us like ripe fruit hanging in an orchard of perpetual summers. We had no idea when we would die. Formerly, I would be able to go to bed and think, "The government has given me four hundred years. Three hundred and seventy-four years from now, they will stop the injections and I will then die." Now I knew anything could happen. The safety devices had been turned off. The diseases ran free. With luck, and hope, and love, I might live a thousand years. Or I might die tomorrow. I was free. We revelled in every moment of the day.

Vailea and I brought the first Polynesian newspaper to appear since the Most Ancient World fell. We found delight in the news, even in the advertisements. The sports pages were of particular interest, and related events from tournaments long-past. There was controversy over some 'unfit' and 'overrated' football player called Val Kylx, and a report on a match between a 'Holy Empire' and a 'Valladares' that the former had won 3-1. Whether these were truth or fiction, we had no way of knowing, but that there could be sporting events where the result was not preordained formed part of our new-found freedoms.

Some parts of the culture were hard to reconstruct. It was difficult to talk about foods of which only the names survived, but the homunculi and the machines, working tirelessly in Downdeep-downdeep, kept the surface of the world filled with enough novelties to fill anyone's heart with hope. We knew that all of this was make-believe, and yet it was not. We knew that when the diseases had killed the statistically correct number of people, they would be turned off; when the accident rate rose too high, it would stop without our knowing why. We knew that over us all, our wise leaders watched. We had confidence that they would play with us as friends and not use us as victims of a game.

Take, for example, Vailea. She had been called Menerima, which represented the coded sounds of her birth number. She was small, verging on chubby; she was compact; her head was covered with tight brown curls; her eyes were a brown so deep and so rich that it took sunlight, with her squinting against it, to bring forth the treasures of her irises. I had known her well, but never known her. I had seen her often, but never seen her with my heart, until we met just outsidethe hospital, after becoming Polynesian. I was pleased to see an old friend and started to speak in the Old Common Tongue, but the words jammed, and as I tried to speak it was not Menerima any longer, but someone of ancient beauty, rare and strange -someone who had wandered into these latter days from the treasure worlds of time past. All I could do was to stammer: 'What do you call yourself now?" And I said it in ancient Polynesian. She answered in the same language, "Toku igoa ko Vailea."

There are those who question whether something that happens in the Ordinary Reality past - before the story into which a myth is said to have bled - can truly be considered an example of mythic bleed (see J. Vatatzes Mythic Bleed in the Mundy Future). However, the tone of the above story, the mythic elements, the uncertainty over what is true and what is false, surely qualify this as an example.

[The Babbage Islands]

Captain Donald Robert Wild, OB, BCG (Ret.)

Nothing, it seems, will come easy for the Bumblebees in this World Cup. A late equaliser by Yesopalitha's striker HAHAHAHA

PWN3D!
h4x0r C33b33: d3f 2 t3h B33x!!

The draw increases the pressure on the Babbage eleven ANDTHEIRGONNACHOKECHOKECHOKE WE PWN U as they face their remaining opponents Swartaz and Pasarga. Pasarga won their encounter according to form, and it is important fpr Arna-Maggra's THATs What U GET FOR HAVIN A BEAR INSTEAD OF A MANAJIR squad to ˚❖©¸¥˝☆˝ƒ©☉©˝ƒ˚ƃ¥≤

PURPLE WANNABE N00B: C33B33 PWNZ U 2

[Aguazul]

(OOC: Wight, you do give completely unbridled RP permissions. I am calling all of that in, right now, for the middle section. I hope you understand and are okay with this. If not, let me know, maybe we can work it out by TG. I'm sorry this is so far after the post in question, but it's taken me this long to put my finger on what I want to say and then get drawn alongside your character. I am usually fine with a bit of metaphorical godmoding, but the literal case is...awkward.

Of course, there have also been some creative liberties taken where Hotten is concerned, but that is only to be expected.)

It had been a quiet first half. Well, as quiet a first half as it could be in a match refereed by Ludo Hotten. The lineups were already down to nine versus nine, where they would stay for the rest of the game, after the dismissals of Tacito Vaccaro (delay of game, too much hang time throwing it in), Ildemaro Urquiza (socks the wrong color), Alessa Ricci (nervously dug his cleat into the dirt awaiting the restart of play after Urquiza's dismissal and apparently made unauthorized marks on the field), and Celia Rimoldi (offsides; Hotten might actually have been right on the penalty if not the punishment, but she was supposed to be a midfielder).

Despite this, Hotten had apparently a very high tolerance for dissent, and once Arturo Benavides realized his incessant chattering about the ball being shaped funny was not going to get him in trouble, he began to malign Hotten's refereeing decisions and audacity to beat him in footraces towards the opposition goal.

By halftime, the megaphone people standing around the big screens had exhausted pretty much everything they knew about the host side. Most of that had been drawn from the World XI game, which had featured far more offense. So, they'd moved on to comparing notes on Wight. "Let's see...recently relocated to Atlantian Oceania, so a bit of a home stint for Hotten..."

"Other side of the region, though. And besides, he's a native of the Old Wight."

"The Old Wight?"

"Well, yes, they're a bit of a strange place. Isolated."

"There's lots of strange places in the world."

"Full of strange people?"

"Yeah, well. You've got your ancient Vanorians, your "ursine" Belles, whatever the Holy Empire have come up with now. This Hotten seems rather straightforward, if a newcomer to the refereeing ranks."

"Yeah, but...it's Wight?"

"What do you have against Wight? They hosted that Brevity thing, everything went fine."

"In Atlantian Oceania, yeah. But all the same, have you heard about their polytheism thing going on?"

"Okay, maybe they don't believe the same things we do, but so what? There are polytheists in Aguazul too, going on about Nanabos with the rabbit and turtle and all that. Up north, I'm sure of it, they just keep their head down."

"Would you listen to me? It's no kit off my back what the people of Wight believe, just like it's none of my business how long the Vanorians live or how hairy the Belles look. But sometimes, it becomes my business."

"How so? Sure, he's not the greatest ref in the tournament, but..."

"I've researched Wight. I've tried to follow them, figure out what's going on. And when you claim that the God, the one God, is an unimaginative autistic, the idiotic little brother of the devil and moreover subject completely to your whims? Does that not come off as just the slightest bit patronizing?"

"...Is this about Nanabos and his cronies?"

"It's about me wanting to be a person. That my faith is just as valid, as potentially right or potentially wrong as anyone else's. Let them think what they want and I think what I want, after I die, that's between God and I, or maybe not, but the point is no one else nor their myths can get in the way."

"You're talking about Wightlings, you think what they said about God is perhaps not correct?"

"Well, and their implications about autistic people are mildly unkind, although as someone who routinely absorbs statistics and trivia to regurgitate via megaphone I concede a bit of bias."

"All the same. Wight! This is where untruth is celebrated! Maybe, yes, their conclusions are not wholly accurate, because that's how they roll!"

"You mean...maybe they are lying, but that's okay!"

"Exactly! Look, we've basically had this conversation before. Remember Armed Bears and Bears Armed?"

"Yeah, yeah. You thought maybe that the players on the newer team had chosen their new names, like The Archregimancy or Cafundéu, to honor their predecessors?"

"Why shouldn't it be the same here? Probably they have...residents, or visitors, who are older than us, maybe even more powerful than us, maybe can make things that we can't. And maybe one of them named himself after God almighty! That doesn't mean that they're the true God, it just means that they're someone different than us."

"And God doesn't have to come into it. Yeah. Thanks, that helps a lot."

"Sure. Now, about the hosts..."

And the second half began, with the megaphones chiming in to commentate on the action. Hotten got into the habit of awarding direct free kicks after bookings, which was fairly often (i.e. Olivia De Luca got to take one after Marianela Anaya was booked for yelling at Diego Héctor Carranza to get into position, which Hotten considered potentially distracting the opponents). So, twenty minutes after the restart, Silvano Nenci was booked (failure to "respect" the distance during a corner kick; he was standing in the right position, but Hotten claimed that Nenci's attitude just showed an overall lack or respect). Merlín Salomón took the free kick, focusing surprisingly well despite the rumors that he was being involved in a lucrative transfer back in the Stellar Division, and scored. Somehow, Aguazul held on.

The megaphone people were in high spirits after the game. So much so that they smiled when a man who seemed enthusiastic approached them, told them he loved their work, and had recently got inspired, something about the World Cup draw reminded him of the beauty of football, could they tell him where to buy one of his own? No, not for the regular season, within days. By the end of the group stage, if possible.

He seemed so eager that they did.

[New Montreal States]

In Fred Nguyen's hotel room, immediately after the draw with Astograth. Hugo Leclercq and Julien Cormier are sitting around on chairs while Cormier is sprawled on the bed. All three of them are watching Matchday 1 highlights on T.V. when there's a knock on the door. Nguyen goes over to answer the door.

"Holy shit!"

Nguyen came back to the bed and puts a large cardboard box on it while the other two players perked up. Nguyen opened it up and tilted the box upwards, so that its contents slid out onto the bed.

Cormier was the first to state the obvious: "Is that a hubcap?" Nguyen, meanwhile, had grabbed an envelope that had also slid out of the box when he had opened it. He tore it open, looking for an explanation of some kind. Before he could read it, there was more knocking at the room door. Nguyen hustled over while his teammates looked at each other, shrugged, and went back to contemplating the hubcap. They were interrupted by Nguyen, calling from over by the door:

"Guys, I need some help over here!" A hotel clerk had hauled up three more identical boxes. All three men each took one box back to the bed, where they propped them against the side of the bed. Then Nguyen pick the letter back up, hoping for some kind of explanation. He read aloud:

Mr. Nguyen,

I drive a Roadhit Toreador Hatchback. It's a good car and the gas mileage is great. But I'm trying to get this girl I like named Samantha to go on a date with me, and she said that the only way this car would be cool enough for her to be caught dead in would be if Fred Nguyen signed the hubcaps. Please help a brother out. I've included a Sharpie and some money to mail the hubcaps back. This could make or break senior year for me.

Thanks,

Christian

Cormier tore open another one of the boxes to reveal another hubcap and a second copy of the letter. "This guy spent 100 oz. to mail his hubcaps from AO to Rushmore! What the hell?!"

Nguyen had handed the original copy of the letter to Leclercq, who was re-reading it with an incredulous look on his face. "You know, there has GOT to be at least ONE girl at his school with more reasonable expectations than this..." He turned around to see Nguyen with a hubcap on his lap, signing it with the Sharpie Christian had sent through the mail. Leclercq raised his eyebrow. "You're actually going to sign hubcaps you randomly got through the mail?"

"It seems like the least I can do. Plus he really did send another 100 oz. to mail the hubcaps back."

"If you go along with this, who knows what else you'll start getting shipped to you for autographs. An old muffler. Novelty mudflaps for an 18-wheelers. A whole transmission, even. The sky will be the limit. Think of the poor deliverymen!"

"Look, clearly this Christian fellow means business."

"200 oz.! To mail hubcaps thousands and thousands of miles! This girl had better be truly remarkable. A supergenius. A gourmet chef. A really, really good comedian. Someone who only looks like a high-maintenance high school senior by day, but at night puts on a mask and straps on an automatic rifle to go fight crime and bring hope to the downtrodden masses." Leclercq paused. "I'm not gonna help you haul this crap down to the lobby to be shipped back, either."

"Oh, woe is me."

"I'm telling you, Freddy," Leclercq finished before directing his attention back to the T.V., "tomorrow, someone's gonna drive their SUV into the hotel lobby, then ask you to sign the hood."

[Yesopalitha]

Nirdasil's Corner

Flames show surprising resiliency against The Babbage Islands behind Terrance Housen, Nadya Dostoevich

Did anyone really think that Yesopailtha had a chance against the top ranked team in our group in the first match of our young nation's history in the World Cup proper? I didn't. The Babbage Islands has been around for some time now, and literally cruised to this stage while we, the Flames had to fight off a surging Kinitar side to get to this point.

It showed early as Terrance Housen, making his first meaningful start in place of Jonah Calhoun, who remained in Yesopalitha with his ailing mother, let in a goal early in the game off the right foot of Valentine Armstrong. This quietened the fiery play of the Flames for about another twenty minutes, and it looked like the Bumblebees would run away with this one.

However, Hilary Vander Rox, the all-too-important captain of the Flames, was taken down by a hard challenge from Dirk Oyler. Turnok Flamebeard of Andossa Se Metrin Vega awarded Oyler with a yellow card, but the Flames got the message as Vander Rox slowly got up. It was time to fight.

After halftime, it was the Flames that started to unleash a barrage of shots at the Bumblebee's goal. The Bumblebees were the ones being attacked mercilessly now as the Flames forwards and pressing midfielders looked for a hole in the defense of the Bumblebees. Kaitlyn Miller, the Bumblebees' goalkeeper, was able to hold them at bay for a while, but the inevitable did occur at the eighty-seventh minute when Nadya Dostoevich took the ball from a beautiful Cecile-Marie cross and cannoned it past the outstretched fingers of Miller.

"It felt good to score against her," admitted Dostoevich, "Because Bloomfield National, her team, always beats Celtic-Southland, mine, in the Babbage Islands' domestic league."

Hence, the Flames were able to escape the hardest match of the group stage with a point.

The road does not get any easier, however, as the Flames will now have to take on the Wanderers of Pasarga, a team that defeated Swartaz 2-0 on the first matchday to take the early lead in the group stage. Yesopalitha last faced Pasarga in the qualifiers of the 60th World Cup, where they lost once and drew once against the Wanderers.

"They are a team accustomed to success," described Sir James Handel, "And it will take all that we have to contend with them."

Housen is set to start again for the Flames as a timetable for when Calhoun will return has not been established. The youngster did make nine saves against the Bumblebees, and seems to be in good form in front of the goal.

"We are giving Jonah as much time as he needs," commented Noah Galvin, "And will try to help Terrance as much as we can."

The Flames have already defied all expectations by scoring a point against the fourth-ranked team in the world. Can their run continue?