Campionato Esportiva VIII Everything Thread

[Dandillis]

Dandish Roster for Campionato Esportiva VIII

Style: -5
Manager: Leven Di Forttye

It's been a long time since Dandillis participated in the World Cup, but it's been a regular somewhat-contender for a few Campionato Esportivas now, which does give the Lions some merit. The team is highly defensive, much unlike their ex-master country Farfadillis. Dandillis is a country known mainly because of one of its most famous players, Ichi Tuzzio, who managed to get to Dandillis' starting line-up and shine during Campionato Esportiva II, before moving to Farfadillis and getting everlasting glory there (well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but he's actually recognize worldwide). He became the first Dandish-born to qualify for a World Cup (even getting to the quarterfinals), and the first Dandish player to play two regional championships (getting a third place thrice, in the AOCAF Cups 38, 39 and 41). Also, the only time that Dandillis actually attempted to qualify to the World Cup, they ended up just one point away from the play-off spot due to a saddening last matchday loss, but they ended the competition with their head straight up.

Starting XI

GK: Harguén Leogonzá
LB: Guya Faorrhe
CB: Nier Blain
CB: Tyrra Umenne
CB: Svero Fernando
RB: S'tian Daorrhe
CDM: Lanndá Mikún
LM: Lerrea Gorkoetzeacha
RM: Alfonz Zarha
ST: Rizzi Fogué
ST: Herbert Kandella

Substitutes

GK: Hogan Gorro
GK: Heoncoro Diferrhe
LB: Diego Navarro
CB: Ital Di Forrhace
CB: Adam Mbawamba
CB: Leantanthian Howards
RB: Tiburcio Lago
CDM: Agundí Ferraré
LM: Ander Mondamé
CM: Lee Chan-Sung
RM: Fer Nin-Dogang
ST: Tibarcio Riquilín
ST: Chou Rokurou

I allow my opponent to hand out as many red cards as wanted, as many yellow cards as wanted, godmod all the goals he wants and do pretty much everything that has nothing to do with affecting my players' long-term health.

[Brenecia]

THE ROZELLE OBSERVER
Kuepper Injury Leaves Patriots Toothless
by Derek Mackan

Brenecians will be worried as a knock to Brad Kuepper left the squad rather toothless in attack.
Kuepper, undoubtedly the team's star player nowadays, picked up a knock in the 27th that forced him out of the game, though he will be 'fully match-fit' for the next game. Unfortunately, a front pairing of Chaucer and Gallagher was entirely unable to break the Polkopian defence.

Jon Slatesaver was content with many aspects of his team's performance, but was openly frustrated that his attack simply wasn't good enough. And, of course, he's not one to take a failure to win with much optimism. "It was a game we should've won - we needed to win," he bitterly told the press conference. "I'm not one to hide my actions - we're going to NSI with our best eleven and I fully intend to pick up a win there. We may not be fancied for it, but I refuse to give the match anything less than my best."

When a journalist mentioned the Curse of Blake Lawless, the supposed curse placed on Brenecian managers after Blake Lawless was (many say, unfairly) dismissed after just two years in charge, Slatesaver calmly told him to leave, and refused to continue the press conference until the confused-looking man left the room. We here at the Observer can proudly and smugly note that said journalist belonged to the rather inferior The Brenecian newspaper.

[Eristicea]

NetRant.ers > discordiankōans

5 Discordian kōans relating to the Campionato Esportiva

1

Ten Eristicean footballers and one goalkeeper entered a tournament as a team. The goalkeeper was remarkably lacking in talent, despite having gigantic hands. Several of the players secretly derided the goalkeeper's lack of ability. One day, one of them, during a match, said to the goalkeeper. "You are so terrible at this, I could score past you." Later in the game, the goalkeeper passed the player the ball, and said to him loudly, "If I am so terrible, score past me right now."
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2

Once, the many footballers of Eristicea gathered to represent the national team in a tournament series of matches. During one of these matches, a player was caught committing a grave error in the field of play. The many other members of the team petitioned to have him removed from the team, but the decision-maker refused. "You are all wise, and know the error this young man has made. He does not know. His pineal gland has not opened. Who, if not you brothers, will open it for him?"
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3

Footballers study their craft for many years before they presume to be capable of playing at a serious level. It takes many years to refine one's focus to be maintained at all times, as it must be for a serious footballer. Once, a player who competed at a serious level was visited by an old friend. It was a rainy day, and as he greeted his younger friend, the older man remarked "I see today you are wearing your turf boots. I presume you left your studded boots in the outhouse with your kit. I wonder, did you leave your kit on the left or the right side of your boots?" The younger man was confused and could not answer.
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4

A footballer who often did not play for his team, instead spendign many minutes sitting on the substitutes' bench approached a Pope of Discordianism once for guidance. "How can I pass the time as I sit on the bench?" He asked. The Pope handed back to him a piece of paper, which stated: "Each minute is worth five gems. Five gems are not worth a single minute."
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5

A wise Pope once spoke to a team of footballers. He told them "Those who speak of killing as wrong may be right. But what of those who kill time? Or snuff out attacks? Or poach goals? We should not overlook them."

[San Jose Guayabal]

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"Arriba con la Selección"

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Program Intro

Welcome to our new version of news, this is "Arriba Con La Selección" or ACLS for a short name And to release our new format, we present the sports commentators of channel 21: José Marín and Carlos Maravilla, and with nothing more to say, let's get started.

Arriba Con La Selección is brought to you by: NASCAR Rent-A-Car "Zoom-Zoom"

- Marín: Hello again, welcome to the program, on this occasion we'll analyze the game against Shadowbourne and the next match against Tasrailia

- Maravilla: Unfortunately, SJG fell again defeated, this time by the minimal difference (1-0) against Shadowbourne that defended very well, despite the constant attacks by SJG and strikers.

- Marín: The game started with a few minutes late due to late arrival of referees quatrain to the Shadowbourne National Stadium, SJG began with holding ball, effectively because in just five minutes and had created opportunities to go ahead, but that Shadowbourne goalkeeper thereby preventing the timely interrupted the SJG's early lead on the scoreboard, as time wore on, Shadowbourne began to dominate the game action with arrivals to the area of Henry Hernandez, which contained well with the help of Meyson Simioli Salume and Facundo, who by the way in a corner kick in the 35th minute missed a clear chance on goal where he was alone in front of goal and failed to push the ball inside.

- Maravilla: The game reached halftime, the game was 0-0 after some intense 45 minutes of play where both seeking to win to go fight the posts for the play-off second in the EC VIII, no SJG coach decided to make substitutions for the second time, which started on the right foot for guayabalenses interests, as in the 50th minute, James Moreira made ​​an own goal on a corner kick, where the ball tried to decline but instead, he put it into his own net and got the final 1-0 Shadowbourne

- Marín: Before the end of the match, SJG tried to get the equalizer through long distance shots, headers, free kicks or special plays little or nothing worked due to strong defensive Shadowbourne was just in time to avoid problems or goals in Please SJG, 74 minutes Shadowbourne made ​​a defensive error and the referee took penalty for SJG, Sean Fraser was commissioned to execute the penalty and it was a goal but the referee annulled because invasion shot penalty area, the shot was Fraser executed again but this time sent the ball into the clouds because he made a bad shot.

- Maravilla: After that, Shadowmourne had the opportunity to extend the lead but could not, so this ended in a 1-0 win for Shadowbourne

- Marín: After analysis of the game, we now analyze the game against Tasrailia, a game that looks to be very even, but SJG has the advantage of playing at home, something that will be set aside to help people in the giant stadium Barrio El Niño, although Tasrailia not the big rival because we defeated in his home for 2-4, maybe a good thing in the psychological benefit to players

- Maravilla: This is all for now, stay in this channel and get ready to see SJG vs Tasrailia in your favorite channel at 10:30 PM, good bye.

SJG starting XI for the match against Tasrailia

Tactical system: 3-3-3-1 (Balance between offensive and defensive)

Starting Lineup:                                    Team
GK: Henry Hernandez (25 years)              A.D. Isidro Metapán
DF: James Moreira (19 years)                Nhorton vo Mirrun (Paradystopia)               
DF: Facundo Simioli (27 years)              Santa Tecla F.C.
DF: Meyson Salume (18 years)              Truro (Greater Maritime Union)
MF: Jairo Araujo         (21 years)             Djnamo Sabrjk (Paradystopia)
MF: William Maldonado (23 years)           Santa Tecla F.C.
MF: Jairo Henríquez (18 years)               Whilliumiborough Swagger (Paradystopia)
MF: Rudy Valencia      (23 years)             Alianza F.C.
FW: Rodolfo Zelaya  (25 years)               Lac-Drouin St-Pierre (Sicoutimont)
FW: Gonzalo Mazzía (26 years)              Atlético Militar Marte    
FW: Sean Fraser (25 years)                   Fillydelphia HC (Equestrian States)

[Apox]

Matchday Four

Group One
Sangti 0–0 German American States
Punum 6–1 Åsløtten-Bëðerbørg så Česky

  Group One                      Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 German American States           4   1  3  0    3   2  +1    6
2 Åsløtten-Bëðerbørg så Česky      4   1  2  1    4   8  −4    5
3 Sangti                           4   1  2  1    3   2  +1    5
4 Punum                            4   1  1  2    9   7  +2    4

Group Two
Northern Sunrise Islands 4–3 Brenecia
Polkopia 2–0 Noburu Taiyo

  Group Two                      Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Northern Sunrise Islands         4   4  0  0   11   5  +6   12
2 Polkopia                         4   2  1  1    4   4   0    7
3 Brenecia                         4   0  2  2    4   6  −2    2
4 Noburu Taiyo                     4   0  1  3    2   6  −4    1

Group Three
Chrovan 3–3 Taijan
Nekoni 2–0 Iseteskog

  Group Three                    Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Chrovan                          4   3  1  0   11   8  +3   10
2 Nekoni                           4   2  0  2    8   8   0    6
3 Taijan                           4   1  2  1    8   6  +2    5
4 Iseteskog                        4   0  1  3    1   6  −5    1

Group Four
Buyan 0–1 Dandillis
Hessington Island 0–5 New Sideburn

  Group Four                     Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 New Sideburn                     4   3  1  0    8   0  +8   10
2 Dandillis                        4   3  1  0    5   0  +5   10
3 Buyan                            4   1  0  3    1   5  −4    3
4 Hessington Island                4   0  0  4    0   9  −9    0

Group Five
Albaie 1–0 Texacano
Chiata 0–2 Uitbregen

  Group Five                     Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Uitbregen                        4   3  1  0   13   4  +9   10
2 Texacano                         4   2  1  1    8   6  +2    7
3 Albaie                           4   2  0  2   10   8  +2    6
4 Chiata                           4   0  0  4    1  14 −13    0

Group Six
Boring Paradise 4–3 Eristicea
Ati Kaluraya 0–1 The Glorious Commune

  Group Six                      Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Boring Paradise                  4   3  1  0   11   6  +5   10
2 The Glorious Commune             4   2  2  0    4   2  +2    8
3 Eristicea                        4   1  1  2    8  10  −2    4
4 Ati Kaluraya                     4   0  0  4    1   6  −5    0

Group Seven
Kitsuneshima 0–1 Old Guard
Swyftlandre 0–2 Slembanana

  Group Seven                    Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Slembanana                       4   3  0  1    9   3  +6    9
2 Swyftlandre                      4   3  0  1    4   2  +2    9
3 Old Guard                        4   2  0  2    7   4  +3    6
4 Kitsuneshima                     4   0  0  4    1  12 −11    0

Group Eight
Estope 5–2 Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk Gorod
Felix 0–0 Earo

  Group Eight                    Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Estope                           4   3  0  1   13   6  +7    9
2 Earo                             4   1  3  0    5   3  +2    6
3 Felix                            4   1  2  1    8   7  +1    5
4 Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk Gorod          4   0  1  3    5  15 −10    1

Group Nine
San Jose Guayabal 4–3 Tasrailia
Paradystopia 2–1 Shadowbourne

  Group Nine                     Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Paradystopia                     4   3  1  0   10   3  +7   10
2 San Jose Guayabal                4   2  0  2    8   8   0    6
3 Shadowbourne                     4   1  2  1    4   4   0    5
4 Tasrailia                        4   0  1  3    9  16  −7    1

Guaranteed a play-off position
Eliminated from the competition

[Tasrailia]

I couldn't believe this, a another lost for Tasrailia and we are in massive trouble. We can basically rule out a chance of making it through to the knockout cup in Apox later in the season. Unless something comes out of nothing for us in the coming two games for Tasrailia. We need two wins against Paradystopia and Shadowbourne to hopefully have a chance of making it through by playoffs.

Lineup for San Jose Guayabal
GK: Alex Permar
DF: James Tupoa
DF: Ryan Eoaee
DF: Ben Gopr
DF: Matthew Ripo
MF: Kelsey Otot
MF: Tiai Iraop
MF: Matthew Roar
MF: Tom Dieaeoe
FW: Mitchell Oaoru
FW: Zane Roppo

[Punum]

Punum Pummerlise ABC In First Win


After a sluggish start in the opening round of CE VIII, the Punum Football team rebounded to roll past ABC, 6-1. The Bears outshot ABC 24-5 to overcome an early deficit and reduce the points difference between first and fourth to just 2 points.

ABC jumped out to an early lead in the fifth minute when Edvin Astøberg lobbed a ball over inexperienced goalkeeper Bill Hanson from 12 yards out.

The Bears responded by flaunting the offensive firepower that has been very quiet so far in the tournament. Lenny Dotson leveled the score in the 28th minute, Rodrick Dalton put the Bears in front five minutes later, Aaron McGuire continued the onslaught with his goal and Dotson added his second tally of the opening period for good measure. The flurry sent Punum into the break with a comfortable 4-1 lead.

“When you go down 1-0 in the first five minutes, it definitely gets your attention,” midfielder Chris Lloyd said.

After surrendering the early goal to ABC, the Bears defense began suffocating ABC, not allowing them to sustain possession in the Punum half. The remaining 40 minutes of the half were largely played deep in ABC's defensive third, and the Bears capitalised repeatedly.

The leveling tally came when Lloyd played a beautiful cross deep into the box from 10 yards out to a leaping Dotson, whose header easily beat ABC goalkeeper Jakub Køčera to the far post for his hat-trick.

“I thought our response to going down was great,” coach Zackary Brown said. “We were patient, stuck to the game plan and kept putting pressure on them as the half wore on.”

Dotson and the Bears were far from finished in the first half though, and were immediately back in the attacking third. Five and a half minutes after his goal tied it, Dotson wove through the scrambling ABC defence and sent a cross into the box to Dalton, who one-timed a left-footed rip into the back of the net to give Punum its final goal.

Punum next head to Sangti and could go first if ABC snatch a point against GAS. The team will be;

GK: Felix Briggs
RB: Craig Hoffman
CB-Norman Ismael
CB-Rick Curtis
LB-Marcos Dane
CDM-Lenny Dotson
RM-Michael Dean
LM-Henry Dean
CAM-Rodrick Dalton
CAM-Chris Lloyd
ST-Aaron McGuire

Felix Briggs is back from his head injury and will feature against Sangti.

Lee Mueller

[German American States]

Part 3

---

Erik ran outside. The boys on the green seemed to be his age. One wore a black and green striped kit and had orange boots. He was practicing rainbows. Another wore a Gengenbach kit. Together there were around 14 kids there. They looked ready for a game.

The kid in the green and black kit walked towards him. In a lazy German accent he greeted Erik.

"Grüß Gott. What's your name and where are you from?"
Erik cleared his throat. "I'm Erik. I live in that apartment over there, but I just moved from Milwaukeesburg."
The kid called back to his group, "We got a Städter¹ here!". The group mumbled in response looking at each other.
"My name is Rudolph. We usually don't accept Städtern here, but we'll give you a nice neighborhood welcome. I live a couple blocks east. Get your boots on, we're picking teams now."

Erik eagerly sat down on the wet green grass and tied up his neon yellow cleats. A swift breeze filled the air, the sun peeking out from the clouds. It seemed like it was going to be good in his new hometown.

Erik was picked onto the same team as Rudolph. They were playing lengthwise on the green. The goals were two garbage cans on each end, likely pulled off of the street somewhere. Erik could see that streetball was like everywhere else.

It seemed like the others weren't playing any formations, so Erik went into attack, where he was the most comfortable. He started one-twoing in with another kid, and then sent a through ball to Rudolph. Rudolph cranked a shot that hit off of one of the cans. He had created a dent that everybody knew was not coming out. The ball skittered off to the side, where Erik scooped it up and nailed it off of the volley. The ball curved down and bounced between the keeper's legs. Erik gave a small fist pump as his teammates looked on in awe.

Erik's team finished the game with a hat trick and a couple of assists. Streetball was like everywhere else, it seemed.
Rudolph walked up to him as the players made their way to their homes.
"Hey, Erik. Just letting you know you are always welcome here. Any time you want, come down. We play every afternoon."

Erik bounded up the steps with a new mentality about his own home. He could feel that he liked the football scene here in southern Gengenbach.

---

¹ Städter is a typically derogatory term used by German Americans who live in the south and east of the nation when refering to natives of Suedland, Milwaukeesburg Bezrik, Mannenfeld, and Nordbergen.

[Buyan]

Twenty more minutes on the clock. With big gestures, Sirius Hope sends his troops forward one more time. On the nearest wing, Sil Moen tries to get around S’tian Daorrhe for the umpteenth time, but the robust right defender has a clean tackle in store to prevent him from overtaking.

“Pressure. Pressure!”

Poor Sirius. No one saw how he took the team under his arm the last few weeks and carried them over some difficult barriers. Regional differences are no longer an issue and their fitness is skyrocketing. It’s no coincidence that they are now able to keep up with a team that swept them of their feet in Dandiyí. If one would watch the two tapes of those games in succession, he would think there were three years between those matches. There weren’t even three games. But all the crowd sees is the nil-nil on the board, while the press has been howling about the ‘game of the last chance’.

“Get Vincas out, Friedrich. That 3-4-3 we discussed? Now’s the time!”

I awake from my moment of daydreaming and urge Vincas Daukas to stop his warm-up exercises and come closer. I can see the face of Edvald going from annoyance to anger. Once again, he won’t be able to prove himself to his home crowd in the Havssidanstadion, while his eternal opponent might save the day. The fans quickly take notice from what’s going on and demand for Mattisson, but their wishes won’t be granted today. Vincas Daukas, national top scorer, will receive his first minutes in the blue shirt.

“So we’re going with three attackers, I want you to cut in and try to take on Blain, he seems there weakest link. All right?”

He nods once, his eyes are trying to focus on the lines and arrows on the clipboard. This is a bad idea. I know football long enough to recognize a player about to choke...

Twenty minutes later, the result confirms my gut feeling. Daukas hardly got past his direct opponent and just before the extra time, Herbert Kandella silenced the crowd, with a top quality kick in the furthest corner. Whilst the referee blows his whistle for the last time, the majority of the crowd already leaves the stadium. Captain Bergh urges his men to go and greet those left, but Sirius Hope sinks his head between his hands on the bench.

“We know the step forward we made, Sirius”, I say in my most fatherly tone.
“So close, goddamned. That one ball on the outside of the post...”

Hope looks up and twists his head to the left. In a similar position, Devold is trying to fight his disappointment. Or is it anger? He had his best game so far, but none of his assisting passes was capitalized. Even before I can get up, Hope approaches him.

“Get up, mate, next match is already on the horizon.”

You can say a lot of negative things about the Buyanese Football Board –you really can- but they made a good pick with Hope. Collecting some leftover bottles, I hear how my phone rings. I only have a split second to smile about how it would be impossible to recognize the sound in one of those temples as in New Sideburn, when...

“...”
“What? Sorry? I think you’ve misconnected.”
“...”
“Is this some sort of prank?”
“...”
“What? I’m... Good evening... I’m sorry, I...”
“...”
“I’m sorry, I mean, ...”
“...”
“Well... Sir...”
“...”
“Leader Portnii, this is strategical. We only use this tournament as a preparation, to test out different styles before we go to the world scene.
“...”
“Which leads to experience, Leader Portnii. The experience our blossoming nation will need to compete in the upcoming Baptism of Fire.”
“...”
“I... I personally vouch for him. He will lead us to victories.”
“...”
“Ehm... Nothing that springs to mind.”
“...”
“Thank you, Leader.”

My ‘Hurra, Portnii’ came too late, the clicking sound already disconnected me.

“Who was that?” Sirius asks.
“Oh... No one. Misconnected.”

---

“How is this possible?!”

Kazys Portnii throws a beer bottle to the wall that splinters in the same fashion as the shot of Kandella tore our last hope apart.

“How is this possible,” he repeats, to no one in particular. The other ones in the room are Ilke, his secretary, and Humbold, a bulldog whose prime job is to crawl from its bunk to its food bowl. Nor the former or the latter could be bothered with the results of the Buyanese football team, but both know that the quality of their day depends on the mood of the Leader for Life of the Buyanese nation.

“Any problems, Leader?” asks the one of the duo that drools the least.
“Can you believe it?”

Ilke knows her boss long enough to know that this is the perfect timing for a pause, in order to allow him to structure his rant.

“I’ve allowed a national team, much against proper sense. I made the message clear that sporting events need to serve both to get across the discordances between the different Council Territories and to demonstrate our abilities as a modern nation. I’ve warned them that I don’t want a debacle as our rugby team. Out in the first round, it could be any underdeveloped nation. We’re NOT! UNDERDEVELOPED!”

If Ilke would’ve been capable of the irony, she would’ve uttered a ‘there, there’. She still believed Portnii was chosen to be the successor of Ernst Pulnov because no one shared the same urge to prove that Buyan wasn’t underdeveloped. And to avoid the costs of new writing-paper with a stylised “P”, as well.
When looking to the facts, one would realise that Buyan is underdeveloped. The life expectancy is around sixty years and depends heavily on rises of plagues. Approximately 27% is illiterate, although the new ‘Reading with the Leader’-program gave a positive vibe to the evolution. The official wages are low, the black market rules. The industry gets positive growth numbers these days, but most of is explained by the awful depression of the previous decade.

“Who’s in charge of that mess, Friend Mellson?”

Twelve years of service, but he still won’t name me Ilke, she thought and she googled for a response.

“Sirius Hope, Leader Portnii. A Paradystopian, I believe.”
“Hm... Right, right. I still don’t get why they wanted one of those pesky fellows. But he’s not leading the team, is he?”
“I’m afraid he is, Leader Portnii.”
“And... Which Buyanese is above him?”
“Well... There’s Friedrich Allersham, Leader Portnii.”
“That... That’s a familiar name.”
“He’s the uncle of Klaus Allersham. Friend Allersham is responsible for Culture in Ravnar.”
“So I suppose Friedrich is a good Buyanese citizen as well?”
“Nothing in his record suggests the opposite.”
“Get him on the phone.”

Kazys Portnii walked towards the table whilst his secretary dialled a Council Territory code, a Workers Region code, a District of Unity code and Allersham’ number.

“Good evening. This is the secretary of Leader for Life Portnii. I will now connect you with the Leader for Life.”
“What? Sorry? I think you’ve misconnected.”
“Greetings, Friend Allersham.”
“Is this some sort of prank?”
“You’re talking to Leader for Life Portnii.”
“What? I’m... Good evening... I’m sorry, I...”
“Don’t hold me up, my time is limited.”
“I’m sorry, I mean, ...”
“Let me get to the point quickly here, Allersham. Three losses in four games, that’s a despicable record. I believed that these kind of sporting manifestations should serve to lift up our nation, but it becomes some sort of farce. We’re already out. How could this happen?”
“Well... Sir...”
“I’ll look through the use of inappropriate terms once.”
“Leader for Life, this is strategical. We only use this tournament as a preparation, to test out different styles before we go to the world scene.
“Which leads to defeats?”
“Which leads to experience, Leader for Life. The experience our blossoming nation will need to compete in the upcoming Baptism of Fire.”
“Hm... I see. Friend Allersham, in all honesty. That Hope... Is it not the foreigner who holds us down? Should he not get removed?”
“I... I personally vouch for him. He will lead us to victories.”
“In that case, I’ll hold you responsible. However, I want to see progression. If we’re moving outward, it should only be to demonstrate that we’re at least as sophisticated as any nation in the world. If I think of what happened at the EAF... Well, let’s not go there. Anyway, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Ehm... Nothing that springs to mind.”
“Ok. I’ll tell my secretary to keep in touch. Buyan supports its sportsmen... If they demonstrate our glory.”
“Thank you, Leader.”

Starting eleven for the game in Hessington Island

Bench: Bergh / Krupa / Englund / Naess / Castell / Mattisson / Moen

The game against Hessington Island doesn’t really serve a purpose now the CE is gone, but Hope still wants to try out some stuff for the Baptism of Fire. One of those moves is allowing some minutes for Ulle Seber, the back-up goalie who usually is seen in the shirt of Garbarnia Hoyersko. This also allows Devold to pick up the captain’s ribbon for the first time.
The defensive line seems to be written in stone. Krupa and Englund both had their chances, but the four names for the starting eleven in the Baptism of Fire are probably known. Only Refshauge has some years behind him already, but the replacements, bar Krupa, deal with the same issue (Englund), simply aren’t good enough (Valminen) or suffer from moderate form (Smetona).
Wreczius is an obvious inclusion in the midfield, as is Sverre Devold. On the left wing, Quinten Zermin regains his spot now Zemaitis is pushed back a little again, as his opponent for that spot, Sil Moen, is more of an attacker. Eero Halmiini played a very interesting game against Dandillis and receives a second chance on the wing, replacing Marco Castell who hasn’t been able to convince so far. However, the surprise inclusion is without any doubt Frederik Wallenberg. The Haljo Vannarby midfield takes a spot where one would rather expect Cedar or Navickas. The message is clear: simple play, short passes, hard work, with Devold in a star role and Wallenberg in support.
Many claim that this might be the last chance for Elmo Havelund. The sympathetic attacker from IFK Pollmarnang hasn’t been able to boot one in the net during the past 360 minutes, although his header on the post of Leogonza came closer than anything else. Mattisson is waiting in the dug-out for a real chance.

[Estope]

Brain Monte walked up to the podium to announce his big decision. Emanuel Inzer was fired almost a year ago but there was still no word yet on his replacement. Inzer had already gotten a new job as national team manager at San Jose Guayabal and having immediate success, but Monte had waited and waited to replace him, trying to find just the right person. He offered many people the job but hardly anyone would give the time of day. In the end he was able to narrow it down to two candidates. Sister Margret Anne Newton of the LIttle Sister's of the Poor Congregation and Gus Freezus, the renowned high school girl's basketball coach. This was the biggest moment of Monte's career as chairman of the Estope Soccer Association. Sr. Margret Ann showed real promise. While she knew nothing about soccer, or sports in general, she had a very humble presence and a deep spiritual life. What she lacked in experience she made up in prayer. Monte felt comfortable that with her God would surely lead Estope to a championship. However, at the end of the day he had no choice but to hire Freezus as Inzer's replacement. He had a very impressive resume, 10 wins in each of his three seasons as a girl's basketball coach. Of course they played 30 games but still he had some experience in coaching. Monte was very excited about this hire. For him to find this jewel of a coach that everyone else missed on was truly remarkable. And to think that people called him incompetent. Well it was now time to announce this big news to the world. The crowd of 12 reporters, half of which looked to be asleep, eagerly awaited this long anticipated announcement. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to announce Estope's new manager. He, like me, has little knowledge of soccer. But, like me filling in, he should have unparalleled success. I had numerous candidates but after seeing how much success I had without any previous experience I immediately changed the criteria. I found two highly unqualified candidates who I thought would perfectly fit the vision I have for this program. This man has a track-record of success and will certainly bring us a World Cup Championship in the not so distant future. Please welcome the latest manager of Estope Soccer, Gus Freezus." There was some scattered applause as Freezus made his way to the podium. "Well, who would have thought that just last week my team was blown out of the state tournament by 70 points and now I was a national team manager of soccer of all sports. I mean I have never even heard of the sport until just last week. But I mean what fun this challenge will be. How different can it be from basketball? Well I can't wait to watch the game tomorrow and then get to work. Thank you."

[New Sideburn]

"Why me, guv?" Portia had asked after the game. "Why now?"
"I wanted you to prove yourself."

THE BRINEMOUTH HERALD
HESSINGTON CRUSHED IN THRIFT'S RETURN TO SPOTLIGHT
by Cliff Hardtmann

Hessington Island: 0
New Sideburn U-21s: 5 (Brightley 8', Bittencourt 19', 77', Thunder 25', 83')

New Sideburn debuted their new design of terracotta away kits with a final scoreline that equalled their greatest ever result in WCC-era football. The 5-0 conquest made by a far different Cormorants team against the Basque Socialist States in the 64 cycle was equalled here, with four goals from the strike partnership and one from Dale Brightley behind them.

The most notable change to the lineup was Portia Thrift making her return both to the goalkeeping role and the captaincy - reasons for this are unknown, given Riordan keeping three consecutive three sheets, but Gethin Ramsey has maintained Thrift will hold her place for the rest of the group stage.

"Prove my- look, guv, you knew I could do the job!"
"Yeah. But did you?"
"I... I guess not."

The Cormorants opened the match in style, Dale Brightley (later declared man of the match for his goal and two assists) showed his very best to beat the Hessington back line and force a low shot past van der As, forming a goal out of practically nothing. While the Hessington midfield valiantly attempted to retake control of the game, a second goal was soon to come, Cheney Bittencourt escaping sloppy marking from Stewart Fleming to take Catheline Harper's cross on his chest, and smack the ball into the top-right corner without letting it bounce. Gerd Thunder chipped in with a third in the 25th, finding a cheeky lob from Brightley to produce a fierce volley that ripped past van der As.

"It's all about confidence, Portia. You inspired everyone else out there to do as best they could. You gave 'em that edge."

The first half wound down to a close after that, as the Islanders finally showed some order in their back line and had some success in keeping the likes of Thunder out of the danger area. And, indeed, they came out of the half-time interval looking determined to do some damage, and maybe break the Cormorants' formidable string of clean sheets.

"Still, I owe most of it to the lads. Didn't really do anything that remarkable."
"You saved a penalty."

In the 54th minute, it looked as though a chink was found in the otherwise-superb Sideburnese defence, as Hadrian Belfast caught Melvin Beirne's heel as he attempted to run onto a forward ball, earning a yellow card and Beirne getting a penalty. However, the penalty was only average - Thrift guessed right and pounced onto it, punching it onto the ground and letting it bounce to safety.

"Oh yeah."

After that, Hessington looked demoralised and defeated. New Sideburn seemingly had the game to themselves, and it was no surprise to see them ratchet up two more goals before the end of the game (again from Bittencourt and Thunder). So the Sideburnese wrap up the fourth week top of the group on goal difference, and hope to retain this form into the crucial home fixture against Dandillis.

"So I'm keeping you in for the next couple games. After that... well. We'll see, I guess."
"Was that a challenge?"
"Take it however you want. But we're bringing our first-team of outfielders against Dandillis... and you'll be leading 'em."
Portia grinned. "So it was a challenge. I fuckin' love challenges."

[Albaie]

" He could still manage qualification. " He reckoned. They had two more games and were only 1 point below second place. If his team repeated their performance against Texacano against Chiata and Uitbregen he believe qualification was well within their grasp.

Texacano had beaten them narrowly in the final minutes of the last game between these two nations. He told his players to rough them up and he watched the smiles appear on all of his players who while they may be professional football players had received hours of military training at school. " Make sure you don't get caught though lads. " He had added as they left the changing rooms. His commands took effect immediately as within seconds of play starting William Dubrack Dubrackson his captain shoulder barged a Texacano player of the ball with extreme violence sending the player flying but he had done nothing wrong so play continued. He watched as his players niggled away at the Texacano players but the ref only caught onto it once or twice and then as half time loomed his team got a corner. Standing above it on the left side Ben Werek lifted it into the box where William Dubrack Dubrackson ran from the eighteen yard box and lept pushing a opposition also jumping for the ball out the way and then he headered it down between the goalies legs and then it rolled over the line. As the Texacano players cried for a foul William Dubrack Dubrackson ran up to the player complaining the most and spread his arms out wide. The Texacano player pushed Dubrack Dubrackson and the hulking captain pushed him back and the two squared off before the ref arrived to break them up. After half time there was a change in the game as the secretive Albaie niggling was replaced by a more obvious fouling from both sides and the ref was fast losing control of the game until he had called over Dubrack Dubrackson. " We need to be seen as the good guys get our players to lay off and overreact. " He told his captain who then ran back onto the pitch to give the instructions and then almost straight away he got the ball and let a Texacano player hack at his leg until the ref arrived to stop it. The game ended at 1-0 but it had been dirty and the play not good but his team had still taken three points and if they did that against Chiata ad Uitbregen no doubt he would be managing in the next stage of the competition.

[Commune-PDTv2]

Campionato Esportiva VIII Roster for The Glorious Commune

In recent years, Football in the Commune has declined. Some blame the league merger with the Califan Solidarity league, others the capitalist incentives of greedy club owners. Quickly, a practice of genetically altered players swept the league and nearly all the 'authentic' players relegated to substitutes to make way for mindless drones incapable of any thought process other than football. As Communadi players moved to other areas of the Paradystopi Commonwealth, taking positions in the clubs within the leagues of Paradystopia, the Lymryk Isles and Ark, the Communadi officials, deeming such acts as traitorous, were left with a severe deficit of national players. The drones being actual possessions of the various clubs and seemingly ineligible for national service. The solution was a government-funded team of scientists and researchers to create a national squad using whatever DNA they had on the national database to sculpt the perfect team.

All players within the roster are a combination of cyborg and manufacturer clone. They are all androgynous and near identical. They wear no kit, playing naked, but all have a large Communadi wheel (as seen in our flag) tattooed haphazardly upon their chests. Albeit being naked, they have no discernible reproductive organs resembling a 'nude' action man.

The team play aggressively and frequently incur many cards (it is not uncommon for them to finish a game with, say, 7 'men'). Due to their physical build, they can be injured as a human but will happily continue, if somewhat hampered, with broken legs and arms. Be advised that they will seek to reap vengeance upon anyone who injures them with stoic disregard for the consequences of their actions. They very rarely speak or even vocalise and react to nothing that isn't directly connected to the football.

Starters in italic bold

---

GK: Oblivion iii
GK: Oblivion i

---

DF: Oblivion iv
DF: Cacophony i
DF: Daemon iv
DF: Daemon i
DF: Bellicosa iv

---

MD: Cacophony ii
MD: Cacophony iii
MD: Daemon ii
MD: Oblivion ii
MD: Bellicosa iii

---

FW: Tempus i
FW: Tempus ii
FW: Bellicosa ii
FW: Bellicosa i
FW: Daemon iii

Style Mod: +5

RP Permission:
Do anything, providing it is in character with the description above

[Paradystopia]

(ooc: internet problems solved, crosses fingers, touch wood, etc. but my planned RP storyline is kinda buggered ... oh wait, or is it ...)

---

"WHAT happened?!"

A scared little intern cowered beneath the gaze of her greasy superior. One could only feel sorry for the bespectacled girl. Her official duties rarely ventured beyond providing cups of tea for the crew and occasionally running to a nearby shop for a sandwich but the bad news had been passed around like a spiteful sexual disease and the trail ended with her. No-one wanted to break the news to the executive, so each person in a faux act of kindness, trust and sharing of responsibility had handed it on to a subordinate. Quite literally 'fucking' them in the process.

The girl tried to gather some composure, but the 'shit happens' nervous smile was possibly the worse thing she could've done.

"The ... ermm ... film. Yeah ... it's ... well, it's ... spoilt. The files are ... err ... kinda corrupted. We've no usable media ... I was ... err ... told to tell you?"

The questioning intonation was a pallid attempt at saying 'don't shoot the messenger'. The executive didn't care. He destroyed interns for fun, sometimes even getting laid in the process. Perks of the job and all that. Leg over for a leg up. However, sex was the last thing on his mind currently. Someone had fucked up spectacularly and this time it wasn't him. That made him mad. Very, very mad. Now he just had to find which clueless moron would be on the receiving end of an apoplectic shitstorm. He focused and gained a little control.

"Go to editing. Okay? You can manage that, yes? Right. Tell that fucking brainless troglodyte that inhabits there to get to my office NOW! GO!"

There's a particular art to the steady crescendo of rage in one's orders. He was a true master of it. The girl sprinted off in the direction of editing as fast as she could manage allowing the executive a cursory glance at how her breasts and buttocks jiggled during frenetic activity. Later maybe, he thought, before spinning upon his heels and making for his office, colloquially known upon the set as the 'torture chamber'.

---

---

"You see, the title sequence is still intact, but the vast majority of the actual episodes are unsalvageable. We'll just have to do them again."
"Hurrah. Accept my gracious congratulations, you imbecilic fuckwit! We have a title sequence. Whoop-de-sodding-doo! Do you know what a budget is? Do you know what I'm having to fork out for the likes of those insufferable footballers and their mindless clap-trap? 'Do it again'? Once was fucking bad enough! What I really want to know is how, with all the beautiful and expensive, very fucking expensive technology we have at our disposal, you manage to lose all that we had?"

The executive was on his third straight cigarette and showed no sign of restraining the apparent ebullience he had for contracting cancer. The portly bald man stood opposite his desk seemed unperturbed, he'd worked with the guy before and knew he was a dick. Comes with the territory he assumed.

"I don't know. It's just ... y'know ... fucked."
"If I wanted a commentary of damned obvious statements, I'd ask sodding Lymrykers whether they like fish or not! How, you idiot? How have we lost everything?"
"The title sequence ... "
"I know the damned title sequence works! The episodes. Five whole episodes of 'the Next Paradystopi Manager' lost. How?! HOW?!"
"It's corrupted. Won't play. Had the guys from tech looking over it but they can't work out what's happened either. Think it could be a virus of some kind."

The executive rubbed his temples. A migraine was threatening to rear its ugly head.

"A virus? Don't bullshit me Mahjr ..."
"I swear boss, even the backups are buggered. Considering nothing else seems amiss. It's a little fishy don't you think?"
"Who in their right mind would go out of their way to sabotage a shitty, little reality TV show?"

---

---

Viaddin, Kjn and Morgana sat in a local bar. Hidden in a back street in the suburb of Ozkha, it was a nice little place where a somewhat celebrity could enjoy a social drink without being subjected to a media circus. They had yet to hear about their producer's calamity. Kjn slurped noisily upon a pint of some dark ale much to the disgust of Morgana who exaggerated the sounds with her own pint. Viaddin toyed with a small glass of apple brandy before turning to Kjn.

"So, what's your thoughts on the manager situation?"
"For fuck sake guys! Do we have to talk about this again?"

Morgana was obviously not in a mood to discuss football. She was already sick of the various altercations she'd had with the executive and the 'costume' department and had suggested a quiet drink to get away from all that, if just for an hour or two. Viaddin looked a little hurt.

"Sorry Morgana ... so, err ... what do you want to talk about?"
"When are you gonna bring Sjlvis out for a drink with us?"
"Sjlvis? Oh, he's busy a lot and expects we'll just talk about football all the time."
"Well, we're not now. How long have you two been dating? I've barely seen the guy."
"Nearly a year now. He's just a little shy you know. Still thinks people will find it weird. How I 'should' be dating some supermodel with big tits or something like that."

Kjn snorted provoking an evil look from Morgana.

"What's that supposed to mean Shitface?"
"Nothing darling."
"Too right."
"Yeah, models with big tits are not as great as you think."
"Fuck you."

Viaddin mused over Kjn and Morgana's relationship. To an outsider, it appeared a visceral and constant slagging match but that was just the way they connected. As though it was a ritual testing of their boundaries together. Could they ever actually have an argument or did some deep connection prevent these words from ever inflicting injury? He thought of himself and Sjlvis. Obviously, it was a completely different situation. Very few people knew he was gay and he kept his sexuality hidden well. It wasn't something he wanted widely known. He wasn't ashamed, just reluctant to have it portrayed in the media as some sort of character quirk or such. Viaddin Tarcka; Gay Icon. He shuddered. Also, with the nature of his occupation and the necessary travel to other, often less liberal countries. it was better to just keep it quiet. It was his private life after all.

"Suck my clit. Asshole!"

Morgana and Kjn were still at it. Hurling pejoratives around with wild abandon. Viaddin himself had lost the progress of the communication but it was obviously still with regards to Morgana's days as a pin-up in Communadi sports magazines. He thought now was as good a time as any to interject.

"So, the manager situation ... "

Morgana sighed.

"Fine. Talk football. Again. I can see why Sjlvis never wants to join us."
"And you think he'd enjoy listen to you two bitch incessantly?"
"Screw you Vi! ... but fair point ... "

Kjn withdrew a scrap of paper from his jacket pocket and placed it upon the table.

"Is that a sweet wrapper?"
"Yup."
"What?"
"It's the Vaian candidate. Mukalo Rotanapai. He's a little, well, unorthodox shall we say."
"He writes his team sheets on sweet wrappers?"
"Maybe?"

The trio leaned in to observed the hastily written teamsheet complete with little stick-figure renditions of the players next to the names. They pondered over the scribbling for a few minutes before Kjn broke the silence.

"Defensive."
"Yeah. Don't think Sirius or Marina ever tried a 5-3-2 like this before."
"Why's he put me on the left? I'm right-footed and a central player."
"Well, he explained that to me briefly Morgana dear. You see, his idea is to have the midfield incorporate a fluid formation. Also, if you're on the left, you can take the ball wide, cut inside and strike with your right foot. The wing play is to be left to the wing-backs."

Viaddin and Morgana both made simultaneous noises of understanding before leaning in again to squint at the tiny writing.

starters underlined, SUB means sub(stitute)

---

GKs
GK - Kjn Volgjsrhaad – Nhorton vo Mirrun – age29
GK - Booch Kumping – Djnamo Sabrjk – age27 - SUB
GK - Jon Proud – Red Star ve Mirrun - age23

---

Defenders
LB LWB – Perri Mournwinter – Black Star ve Kwjg – age21
LB – Rhosh Joyles – Whilliumiborough Swagger – age21 - SUB
CB – Marvin Marvkinson – Tiknonsens Palace – age22 - SUB
CB – Edward Braithe – Nhorton vo Mirrun – age27
CB – Jabez Faustus – Kolperiskonjf Athelhetik – age26
CB – Astrall Standstall – Djnamo Sabrjk – age25
CB – Evelyn Paradys (f) – Lhaydifee Artisans – age26
RB – Hari Selk – Nhorton vo Mirrun – age23
RB – Rhuth Savhis (f) – Black Star ve Kwjg – age24 - SUB

---

Midfielders
CDM – Ranjeev Vhornam – Dzias Riot – age20
CDM - Rhoddri Tuz'rirhan – Alsabaszi – age24
LM – Khalvin Horros – Dzias Riot – age21
LM RCM – Khorinnha Khayr (f) – Whilliumiborough Swagger – age19
LM – Nina Naiyeftiyi (f) – Hoxplohsiv Rastred’Madaa – age18
CM LCM – Morgana Foloris (f) – Lhaydifee Artisans – age25
CM – Yani Flodrantezt'rirhan – Whilliumiborough Swagger – age26
CM – Kharon Ohltfeld – Nhorton vo Mirrun – age20
RM RWB – Sjmon d'Kolperiskonjf – Black Star ve Kwjg – age22
RM – Marvin Yett – Red Star ve Mirrun – age22
RW - Jsha St. Dhads (f) – Lords Dwellings – age19
CAM – H.R.H. Princess Jojo of the Kinshishish – Lhaydifee Artisans – age17 - SUB
CAM CM – Viaddin Tarcka – Djnamo Sabrjk – age26

---

Strikers
CF – Ghengjs Aafjlh – Red Star ve Mirrun – age25 - SUB
CF - Vincent Talakovik – Ozkha Rovers – age28
STR - Luke Benjamin – Nhorton vo Mirrun – age20
STR – Jay-jay Jabez – Djnamo Sabrjk – age17
STR – Kjn Pitinuus – Djnamo Sabrjk – age29

"He certainly picked a few new names there too ..."
"Yeah. Don't think I know that Khayr girl ... "
"She's pretty good."
"By the way, has anyone heard anything from those wankers at the TV studio?"
"No, I haven't actually ... When are we filming again?"
"Hopefully never. I remotely accessed their database and fucked up the recordings. Haha. Should give that slimy bastard in charge something to do for a while."
"How did you manage that?"
"Come one Vi, I'm Communadi. Computer hacking and espionage is in my blood, as well as my brain for that matter."

She lightly scratched the base of her skull where her cranial implant slot was located and flashed a smile at the two guys. Simultaneously, they all laughed. Kjn leaned forward and kissed her upon the cheek.

"You sneaky bitch."
"Love you too."

---

Style Mod. = -4

[San Jose Guayabal]

Channel 21

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"Arriba con la Selección"

---

Program Intro

Welcome to our new version of news, this is "Arriba Con La Selección" or ACLS for a short name And to release our new format, we present the sports commentators of channel 21: José Marín and Carlos Maravilla, and with nothing more to say, let's get started.

Arriba Con La Selección is brought to you by: Carl's Pet Shop (Buy a little friend here)

- Maravilla: Hello estimated viewers, this day we'll bring a program full of goals, where SJG won 4-3 to Tasrailia in a game not for the faint dying.

- Marín: It was a good game but was delayed because the referees went to get drunk (7 hours before game) at a bar and took three hours (after the initial time of start at 9:00 PM) to get out of a hangover, so the game started around midnight, while the audience looked a little desperate, but this news will gave them laugh and calmed the anxieties for the game, plus it was controversial, because instead of putting the National Anthem of Tasrailia, the sound crew put Sandstorm by Darude something which angered the fans of Tasrailia but literally laughing killed the guayabalense fans.

- Maravilla: Since starting the match began with a good Tasrailia possession during the first three minutes , but SJG decided at a venture and snatch the ball so that in the 4th minute of play Sean Fraser scored the 1-0 in favor of SJG to through fast counterattacking of Fraser who left against Alex Permar that was given up and Fraser scored without problem, after that Tasrailia was dedicated to constant attacks to disturb SJG defense, which got its off in the 14th minute through Zane Roppo in free kick shot them Henry Hernandez literally could not do anything but contemplate such a goal, and we were 1-1 and this game promised for more, as both teams were an idea of purely offensive attack to gain a victory, as time progressed, each team had a moment in which tip the balance in their favor, both took advantage of the momentum because SJG seized the moment took the lead in the 30th minute through Rodolfo Zelaya on a free kick from 25 yards putting the ball in the upper left corner for a gem of a goal.

- Marín: After that Tasrailia not remain with folded arms for 32 minutes SJG joy was interrupted by Matthew Ripo in a corner that executed Ripo Matthew Roar and gave a header to score equal to 2 goals apiece, after that play, SJG had chancespara take the lead, which missed and the game went to halftime with an entertaining 2-2.

Emanuel Inzer decided to make substitutions for SJG, came Meyson Salume, Jairo Henriquez and Facundo Simioli, entered: Matías Passarelli, Herbert Sosa and Augustine Jibrin to improve the defense in the second half.

- Maravilla: The second half started ten minutes later because Henry Hernandez and a member of the panel of arbitrators fell asleep in the dressing room, then were given an additional 10 minutes to be fully awakened, the party gave up, so looking SJG incisive third goal to gain confidence of the party, but did not have the cunning of Kelsey Otot that in a good solo run dribbled past three defenders of SJG and scored a good goal in the 50th minute, SJG was at a disadvantage for the first time in the game because we were 2-3, SJG did not want to disappoint the fans so Emanuel Inzer decided to play with five forwards, very risky but the motto of the strategy was "do it or die", so SJG started playing with 4-1-5, with which it began producing most dangerous plays had their fruit until 81 minutes where Jonathan Fana stood alone against the goalkeeper and defined with a shot along the ground and put the game 3-3

- Marín: the time was very close to finishing the game, Tasrailia was doing a good business to get a draw in a territory known worldwide for the hostile environment of the fans, the game became close to SJG, as Tasrailia was devoted to defending the tie , but in the 90th minute came a brave move of the goalkeeper Henry Hernandez so he decided to go to a corner, Jibrin execute the shot, after bouncing in several Tasrailia defenses, Hernandez met the ball and shot mercilessly and he did it, he scored the goal in extremis, making SJG won the game with a 4-3 Final

- Maravilla: Here I will show a table with game data

Stadium: Estadio de Barrio El Niño, Meléndez, SJG
Attendance: 123,150 spectators (35,500 from Tasrailia)
Score: SJG 4-3 Tasrailia
Ball possession: SJG 50% TAS 50%
Shots: SJG: 20 TAS: 24
Fouls: SJG: 17 TAS: 14
Yellow cards: SJG: 1 (Jibrin, 86') Tasrailia: 0
Red Cards: SJG:0 TAS: 0
Referee: James Johnson (TLI)
Best players: SJG: Henry Hernández 9 TAS: Matthew Roar 8

- Marín : Now I will give my analysis to the game against Paradystopia: It will be a tough match for both, first look Paradystopia seal his move to the next round and SJG seek to obtain advantage for the decisive match against Shadowbourne that will surely decide who will go to the playoffs round to advance, will be hard if, but SJG should endeavor to give their 100% for this game.

- Maravilla: That's all for today, we make an invitation for this game do not miss vital to the hopes of SJG, today at 5:55 PM begins broadcast from Paradystopia

SJG starting XI for the match against Paradystopia

Tactical system: 3-4-3 (Balance between offensive and defensive)

Starting Lineup:                                    Team
GK: Henry Hernandez (25 years)              A.D. Isidro Metapán
DF: Matias Passarelli  (26 years)             Alianza F.C.              
DF: Facundo Simioli (27 years)              Santa Tecla F.C.
DF: Meyson Salume (18 years)              Truro (Greater Maritime Union)
MF: Herbert Sosa (23 years)                 Alianza F.C
MF: William Maldonado (23 years)           Santa Tecla F.C.
MF: Gonzalo Mazzia (26 years)             Atlético Militar Marte
MF: Rudy Valencia      (23 years)             Alianza F.C.
FW: Rodolfo Zelaya  (25 years)               Lac-Drouin St-Pierre (Sicoutimont)
FW: Sean Fraser (26 years)              Atlético Militar Marte    
FW: Jonathan Faña (25 years)                   Fillydelphia HC (Equestrian States)

[Brenecia]

THE ROZELLE OBSERVER
Patriots A Team In Transition - Spirited Comeback From NSI Sees Brenecia Five Points From Second
by Derek Mackan

Brenecia are a team in transition. Jon Slatesaver's a hard taskmaster, but you can see his team genuinely relishes playing under him, and while they're still waiting for a first win there's real hunger and desire that was never there before.

Take yesterday's match. NSI were up by two within fourteen minutes, the first coming from their superior skill, some fancy maneuvring and putting away a very clean shot - later, a direct free kick produced their second. But despite being down, Brenecia were far from out. Brad Kuepper produced a magnificent half-volley in the 28th minute to pull one back, then James Macbeth hooked a long shot past Sioux in extra time before the interval.

And the Patriots kept up the momentum in the second half - heavy pressure lead quickly to a corner, and the Islanders were unable to outmuscle the Brenecian centre-forwards - Gareth Farrell's header evened the scorelines, the Crisisbless striker earning his first goal of the campaign. But it was not to be - careless defending cost us the lead, and the fourth was once again the Islander ball skills coming into play - Mortlock and Fisher had no luck closing down Mateus Carvalho, who squeezed a low, strong shot under Connell for his second of the match.

The lessons to take away from the match are simple. In Jon Slatesaver's words, it proved they had the passion, the bottle... but sometimes, he admitted, other teams were just going to play better on the night. He vowed to pick up wins against Polkopia and Noburu, before leaving the press conference on an optimistic note.

"I think we got a new era ahead. Brenecia is in the ascension. Top 100 in the world, and we're not out of this Campionato yet. It'll be a rough road, but we'll get there alright in the end."

[Polkopia]

Polkopian Sports News - Latest News on Polkopian Sports
Polkopia in the Group Stages

Throughout Polkopia's journey in the Group Stages of the Campionato Esportiva, we've seen the team play quality football. The Polkopian team has managed to pick up wins against Noburu Taiyo, while tying against Brenecia, who are currently ranked 20th in the tournament. Polkopia has yet to win against the Northern Sunrise Islands, as their only game ended up in a 3-0 loss for the Polkopian team.

Throughout the tournament, Immanuil Serevo has been credited with the most goals for the Polkopian side, scoring a total of three goals out of the four that the team picked up over the course of the tournament. Meanwhile, midfielder Vyacheslav Gorodiva has been credited with the most assists so far for Polkopia, assisting two goals, both of which were scored by Serevo.

In the upcoming match against Brenecia, coach Spartak Stenin vows to use his starting 11, and plans to make his three substitutions later in the game. He plans to use his 4-1-3-2 formation against the team, as he realizes that a win here will secure Polkopia's spot in qualifying to the Round of 16. Should Polkopia lose, Polkopia would have to win against the Northern Sunrise Islands, who are ranked 4th and have already qualified, in order to progress.

[Apox]

Matchday Five

Group One
Punum 0–0 Sangti
Åsløtten-Bëðerbørg så Česky 2–2 German American States

  Group One                      Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 German American States           5   1  4  0    5   4  +1    7
2 Åsløtten-Bëðerbørg så Česky      5   1  3  1    6  10  −4    6
3 Sangti                           5   1  3  1    3   2  +1    6
4 Punum                            5   1  2  2    9   7  +2    5

Group Two
Polkopia 0–3 Northern Sunrise Islands
Noburu Taiyo 0–2 Brenecia

  Group Two                      Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Northern Sunrise Islands         5   5  0  0   14   5  +9   15
2 Polkopia                         5   2  1  2    4   7  −3    7
3 Brenecia                         5   1  2  2    6   6   0    5
4 Noburu Taiyo                     5   0  1  4    2   8  −6    1

Group Three
Nekoni 2–1 Chrovan
Iseteskog 0–3 Taijan

  Group Three                    Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Chrovan                          5   3  1  1   12  10  +2   10
2 Nekoni                           5   3  0  2   10   9  +1    9
3 Taijan                           5   2  2  1   11   6  +5    8
4 Iseteskog                        5   0  1  4    1   9  −8    1

Group Four
Hessington Island 0–3 Buyan
New Sideburn 3–1 Dandillis

  Group Four                     Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 New Sideburn                     5   4  1  0   11   1 +10   13
2 Dandillis                        5   3  1  1    6   3  +3   10
3 Buyan                            5   2  0  3    4   5  −1    6
4 Hessington Island                5   0  0  5    0  12 −12    0

Group Five
Chiata 1–2 Albaie
Uitbregen 2–1 Texacano

  Group Five                     Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Uitbregen                        5   4  1  0   15   5 +10   13
2 Albaie                           5   3  0  2   12   9  +3    9
3 Texacano                         5   2  1  2    9   8  +1    7
4 Chiata                           5   0  0  5    2  16 −14    0

Group Six
Ati Kaluraya 0–1 Boring Paradise
The Glorious Commune 2–2 Eristicea

  Group Six                      Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Boring Paradise                  5   4  1  0   12   6  +6   13
2 The Glorious Commune             5   2  3  0    6   4  +2    9
3 Eristicea                        5   1  2  2   10  12  −2    5
4 Ati Kaluraya                     5   0  0  5    1   7  −6    0

Group Seven
Swyftlandre 5–0 Kitsuneshima
Slembanana 3–0 Old Guard

  Group Seven                    Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Slembanana                       5   4  0  1   12   3  +9   12
2 Swyftlandre                      5   4  0  1    9   2  +7   12
3 Old Guard                        5   2  0  3    7   7   0    6
4 Kitsuneshima                     5   0  0  5    1  17 −16    0

Group Eight
Felix 3–3 Estope
Earo 2–2 Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk Gorod

  Group Eight                    Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Estope                           5   3  1  1   16   9  +7   10
2 Earo                             5   1  4  0    7   5  +2    7
3 Felix                            5   1  3  1   11  10  +1    6
4 Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk Gorod          5   0  2  3    7  17 −10    2

Group Nine
Paradystopia 1–0 San Jose Guayabal
Shadowbourne 3–2 Tasrailia

  Group Nine                     Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Paradystopia                     5   4  1  0   11   3  +8   13
2 Shadowbourne                     5   2  2  1    7   6  +1    8
3 San Jose Guayabal                5   2  0  3    8   9  −1    6
4 Tasrailia                        5   0  1  4   11  19  −8    1

Qualified for the finals
Qualified for at least play-offs
Eliminated from the tournament

Congratulations to Northern Sunrise Islands, Uitbregen, Boring Paradise and Paradystopia for all qualifying one matchday early.

[Commune-PDTv2]

"Greetings y'all! This is Yapper Stinkypaws for the Lymryk Isles Sports Network. I'm here in The Glorious Commune to talk with Beliicosa ii, whose two goals guaranteed the Commune a play off place for the Campionato Esportiva finals in Apox. Firstly, am I pronouncing that correct? Bellicosa two, or Bellicosa eye-eye? Or maybe just Bellicosa?"
"..."
"... I'll call you Bella. So Bella, two goals. A strong performance. How do you feel the match went?"
"..."
"... okay so ... erm ... How does it feel to have made the playoffs?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"... Any comments whatsoever?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Say nothing if you think I'm the sexiest otter the world has ever seen."
"..."
"Oh you charmer, you."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Would you agree that this is the singular lowest point of my journalistic career?"
"..."
"Yeah, thought so."
"..."
"Please just say something!"
"..."
"Anything!"
"..."
"For the Glory of the ...?"
"..."
"C'mon! That was an easy one!"
"..."
"Hello?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"... Well, that about wraps it up. A truly enlightening interview. Tomorrow, I'll be debating international politics with a variety of kitchen utensils, talking to a Guayabalan tree about whether Apox does indeed 'suck' and revealing the 5 ways you know you're not being taken seriously in the workplace."
"..."
"Sneak preview. Number 4 is being sent to interview a Communadi football player."
"..."
"Yeah, precisely. See ya. Yapper out."

[Paradystopia]

"Is it sorted yet? Please tell me you fucking sorted it."
"I think we got it."
"Okay. Finally some good news. Show me, show me, show me!"

Mahjr had been up all night piecing together the fragments of animated visuals he had been able, with the help of the entire technical team to isolate from the now defunct episodes. No one on the crew had managed to get any sleep that night. Even Felicity, the intern had been on permanent coffee call out maintaining a suitable levels of caffeine intake to facilitate the impromptu night shift the sleazy executive had demanded. The executive himself was currently dosed up to the eyeballs on a potent mixture of cocaine and speed. Caffeine, to him, was the poor mans alternative.

---

"Yes yes yes. We know the damned title sequence works. I don't need to see that shit again. C'mon! Let's see the manager profiles! Do it!"

Chester Kat hails from the Mousebane Islet. Currently the manager, coach and captain of the Mousebaneska capital city team, Scratchpost Hillock, he is looking to advance his resume with international coaching. Renowned for coining the 'apathetic optimist' strategy, he has an outside shot at gaining the post due to a solid knowledge of Paradystopi football. Chester is 12 years old, enjoys sleeping and eating, has been happily married for 2 years and has 5 kittens. When asked why he should become The Next Paradystopi Manager^TM, he had this to say.

I should get this job because I believe I can take the Paradystopi team to new heights, maybe. I don't know. Whatever. I need a nap. Hmm? Oh, I'm confident that I'm the right choice because ... hmm ... because I'm just better than the other candidates? How's that? Good? Okay.

---

The next candidate is Elodi Easthouse. Elodi is currently the captain of the top Paradystopi team, the Lhaydifee Artisans. What she lacks in pure managerial experience, she makes up for in determination and working knowledge of Paradystopi football. Her preferred strategy is one of pass-and-move, focusing upon vitriolic build-up play and converting chances. This attack minded mentality makes her a real possibility for The Next Paradystopi Manager^TM. She is 30 years old and lives with her partner in the Paradystopi capital of Newtown. She enjoys foreign language films with a bottle of good wine. Here's her thoughts on her candidacy.

Well, I'm very eager to prove myself as a manager. I've been working under Haley at the Artisans for some time now and well, I'm not as young as I once was, haha, but my passion for Paradystopi football remains as strong as it ever has been. Obviously, being the manager of the national team would be a dream come true. I feel capable in myself and hope to demonstrate this over the Campionato Esportiva

---

It may surprise a few people that we have a Communadi candidate to become The Next Paradystopi Manager^TM and one with such a extensive resume, even if some of the details are a little spurious. Error Message hails from Xemai in the North of the Commune and despite his youthful looks is actually 97 years old! At the age of 8, he ran away from home to join the circus as a tightrope walker but ended up as assistant coach at the Polarian team, Jan Mayen Islanders, somehow. From then, he has worked as a manager for the Vegan national team, the Audioslavian national team, the Lymantatian national team and gave singing lessons to Simeone di Bradini. In addition, he wishes to point out he has also worked as a flower seller in Swytlandre and ran for President of Slembana. We have been unable to verify many of these claims but it's an impressive resume nonetheless. Error has this to say to the program about his chances of becoming The Next Paradystopi Manager^TM.

Never use a duck as a hat. It's uncomfortable and not warm in the slightest.

---

Keith Danikarilo is an outside choice for the job. Very little is known about him other than he used to be a bank clerk and enjoys wearing dresses. Some suspect he only put his name forward for the sake of a TV appearance. He had this to say with regards to being The Next Paradystopi Manager^TM

When you say 'football', do you mean, like, football, or that other one? Or am I thinking of rugby?

---

One of the favourites for the job is the experienced Vaian manager, Mukalo Rotanapai. Mukalo may be a little eccentric in his behaviours, but his career history speaks for itself. Three times in eleven years he has guided Wakita United to the Vaian championship and has even gathered some successes in the UICA championships. Mukalo is married with a 17 year son, Rumaro who is a promising young baseball player. When asked to comment on his chances of becoming The Next Paradystopi Manager^TM, Mukalo had this to say. Please note that as he is attempting to learn the French language (for unknown reasons), he refused to communicate in Paradystopi.

Paradystopia sont bonne équipe. Ils ont beaucoup de potentiel pour réussir dans ce tournoi Esportivan. Il est à espérer que je vais faire une meilleure équipe qui peut gagner beaucoup de tournois majeurs. Je serai meilleur choix pour ce travail. Merci

---

The final candidate is a Lymryker. The current manager of Tiknonsens Palace, Rholand Southbysoutheasthouse. Rholand is.

---

"What the fuck Mahjr? You said the damn thing was working!"
"It was!"
"Aaaarrrgghhh!"

In one swift movement, the suited executive tore the computer monitor from its place upon Mahjr's desk and inserted his knee into the screen. A steady trickle of blood began to dribble from his nose, staining his now pursed lips a lustrous crimson. His trouser leg was also torn from its impact with the computer as was, quite possibly the flesh beneath. In his drug-fueled rage, he didn't seem to notice either and simply stood glaring at each and every one of his fellow occupants in the room. The short, sharp breaths he took through his nose causing an eminence of bubbling red mucous. No one knew quite what to say after such a spectacle.

"Fix it! Now, you fuckers! NOW!"

[Buyan]

The good follower can spot that I got some concept inspiration by New Sideburn -who, btw, I should thank for lending a referee earlier on-. The storyline was already in my head, but reading his RP got me the idea about how to present it. Consider it a tribute, rather than plagiarism, please, as I think there is still a wide difference between both RPs. If one would disagree, please TG.

It’s strange how a dressing room can tell everything about your opponent. The spot we received in the Raceground was humble, yet the eye for detail was respectable. It wasn’t large, but somehow the architect had made it spacious enough. As by habit, I found the most isolated corner within a second and tossed my bag towards it. It was a routine I had picked up during my youth years, as I felt it would allow me to focus on the upcoming game better. That it limited the chance of getting moist from teammates coming out of the shower, was a nice plus.

Smiling, I recalled the old dressing room in the Korfaltet Arena. Back in those days, we struggled in our regional league but opponents were still insecure to visit that ground. The small specific aspects made it our ground, our castle. The oversized field, the narrow halls, the wooden benches that were incredibly annoying when you sat on them butt-naked... “You aren’t a Hiker without a splinter in your ass,” was the title of our initiation ritual.
When Erik Pallson took over the club and sponsored new stands, it all had been torn down, but the spirit still wandered around in IFK Pollmarnang. All in all, I still played with Seb, Asbjorn and Tor, just like in those days. Those days… good laughs before, good beers after the game. But things had become more serious. Far more serious.

Ravnar Tageszeitung

Offensive weakness

… It has become blatantly obvious that Elmo Havelund is incapable to lead our squad towards goals. Agreed, he made his amount in our domestic competition, but those were more often than not caused by the moderate level of play. To support that claim, we note that he only scored once against the top four and marked just three times after the first round, when defenders were in the loop about his moves…

There is no one outside me. It’s just me and the ball. The ball must go in. The ball is mine. I am the ball. There is no one outside…

“Elmo!”
“Sorry, what?”
“What did I just say?”
“I’m… I’m not sure.”
“Focus, Elmo, focus! As I said, with their trio of center backs, I want infiltrations by Frederik and Sverre. You try to turn away and reach the second post.”
“Yes. Yes.”

Ah, shit. He didn’t want to let Hope down. It probably was the only person left in the archipelago who still believed that he should be in the squad.

Valneda Times

It’s not like there’s no alternative

… In a readers’s poll, we discovered that the support for one-man attacking line Havelund has gone down to 8,4 %. One voter out of four prefer Mattisson to pick up his spot, whilst 10,5 % supports a real chance for Vilkas Daukas. However, due to the horrendous statistics so far (1 goal in 360 minutes, by left midfielder Zermin), a strong minority wants Hope to switch towards two attackers (42 %). In such case, the preference goes by far to Daukas-Mattisson, with the options Mattisson-Ptak, Daukas-Vilkas and Mattisson-Moen receiving some support as well. One reader out of seven would even prefer a three-man attack, where Mattisson fills the center and Sil Moen and Vincas Daukas the wings. All in all, only 10,9 % actually wants Havelund on the team…

Down on one knee, touching the middle point with my right hand and bring it to my right leg. This time it’s going to work.

“Elmo, it’s Hessington that kicks off.”

All right, all right.

I look to the opposite side of the field and note that three men are staring at me. I recognize them from a few weeks ago. Fleming, Nelissen and Watson, I recall. I hardly got out of their chains, as they kept at least two guys stuck on me.

The first touch and I move forward. Fingers crossed that Hope’s ideas work out, although I like the 4-1-4-1 a lot more than what we did at home against them. If Wally and Devold make enough infiltrations, I might get some space. Might.

Twenty-six minutes in, Eero surprises Mackay and Watson needs to step out. Sverre does a perfect read of the situation and goes deep into the sixteen. A splendid pass by Eero. My blood is rushing, second post, second post. Nelissen is trying to cover Sverre and Wallenberg causes panic in the eyes of Fleming.

“Sverre!”

If one man can lift a ball past his man, over the goalie and to the second post, where it drops like a leaf in autumn, it’s Sverre Devold. I’m completely unmarked.

Mullsphaller Post

Get them in, dummy!
by Johan Gredholm

… one should follow that Havelund once during a game. Don’t look at something else, just check his positioning. You will be wondered upon how often he closes up the space rather than creating it. A sole attacker must own the skill to tear defenses apart. He breaks his opponents out of their comfort zone, has a good first touch and uses his power to rule the little space he created. Elmo Havelund, however, runs around, but doesn’t worry defenders. Some of the Dandillian and New Sideburnese players were noted smiling, seeing how Elmo ran after the ball as Tom after Jerry. But sometimes it happens, he gets on the spot, rather by fortune then capacity… Ball wide. Shot far out. A header on the keeper. Elmo, it’s the net where we want him.

The Raceground sighs in relief. Somehow, the ball got not only past Van Der As, but also on the wrong side of the stake.

“Better luck next time,” Frederik says, but I stare to the ground. I score those with my eyes closed, normally.

The game carries on and we can’t turn our dominance into goals. A shot by Frederik ‘Wally’ Wallenberg goes wide, Halmiini finds a leg in his way and a lob by Sverre hits the woodwork. Four more minutes to go in this half and I take a look to the bench. Empty spots. As my eyes follow the sideline, I note how Sil Moen and Edvald Mattisson are doing some practice runs.

“Elmo, deep!”

Wreczius recovered the ball towards Wally, but he’s covered by Benbow. A desperate kick forward is the only solution.

Crowd in the Havssidanstadion, game against Dandillis

Ed-vald! Ed-vald! Ed-vald!

The ball bounces in front of me and I feel how Nelisse is clasping himself to my shirt. A swift but allowed push with the shoulder resolves that problem. Before Stewart Fleming can intervene, I control the ball, placing it slightly to the inside so the leather remains out of reach for his foot. This allowed Mackay to join in, but a quick outside right touch puts him on the wrong foot, blocking his teammate to reach me in the process. I’m free… I’m free. Twenty-five meters, too much for a shot. Van Der As leaves his goal, flailing his arms to diminish the space. Twenty-one meters, I need a solution.

Crowd in the Havssidanstadion, game against Hessington Island

Elmo Havelund walks back in during half-time

“Havelund! Havelund! You suck!”
“Hey, Havelund, stop messing around!”
“Stay off the pitch, you loser!”

I already lift my hands up high and start a sprint towards the corner flag before the ball hits the net. The perfect chip. I keep running, trying to spot a camera along the line.

“Yes. Yes! Yeeeeeeees! Yeeeeeeeeeeees! Yeeeeeeeees! Havelund scores! Havelund scores! Havelund scores!”

It isn’t until Wally drags me back for the kick-off that I stop screaming towards the camera.

Mullsphaller Post

Broke free
by Johan Gredholm

… we finally saw Elmo Havelund reach a respectable level yesterday against Hessington Island. His first goal, a lob after an excellent action, demonstrated why Hope kept on putting him on the pitch. The follow-up, a header on a corner from Devold, might have been less exciting technically, but was the kind of power we wanted from him. However, Hessington is only a small horse d’oeuvre for the Baptism of Fire. We’ll need more than two goals in five games in Farfadillis and the Licentian Isles…

The fourth official puts up the board with a red 11 and a green 16.

“Good luck, Ed. Watson is exhausted, there are options there.”
“Thanks, Elmo. Great game.”

Sitting on the bench, I see how Mattisson gets hooked in the rectangle by Arran Watson. With ease, Bronius Bartkus puts the final result on the board from eleven meters out. When the final whistle sounds, Allersham comes up to me, a smile around his lips.

“Patience and trust. It’s all you need.”

Starting eleven for the game against New Sideburn

Bench: Seber / Zemaitis / Valminen / Zermin / Cedar / Daukas / Moen

The game against New Sideburn is for none really important. New Sideburn is already assured of their plane tickets to Apox, for Buyan, this is only preparation for the BoF. However, Sirius Hope wants a good performance in what will be the last home game before that prestigious tournament, to assure the support of the crowd.
This means that there are a few changes, but not too many. Anders Bergh retakes his spot, as was decided before the previous game. Ulle Seber showed he’s a reliable replacement. In defense, Zemaitis is replaced by the more defensive Krupa. Hope opts for a 4-2-3-1, which means that Naess, fully recovered plays once more next to Wreczius. Quinten Zermin was sacrificed for this purpose, Wallenberg stays in as reward for a splendid match. The biggest surprise is in attack, where Mattisson finally gets that starting spot he was aching for. “I’ve always said Edvald that he would receive a fair chance and there it is,” Hope declared. “But this is nothing against Elmo, I’m very satisfied with his performances. I’ll just give him some rest.” On the bench, there is no longer room for Castell who had a poor substitution, so we see Cedar and Daukas retake their spot.

[Paradystopia]

"Okay, the project's essentially shafted but we're gonna make the most of a bad situation, right? You've just got to pretend this is happening before it actually is, okay? We're splice up the footage and rehash some previous episodes from the outtakes."

The steely demeanor of the executive was beginning to crumble. The whole thing was killing him. During the planning stage, the TV series was a sure-fire winner. Football, reality show, the odd shot of a young female Paradystopi footballer in a sports bra to interest the teenage boy market. Perfect. The irony was that, in actual reality, it was a disaster. Corrupted recordings, celebrities who didn't feel the need to kiss his arse on demand and now time constraints were all adding to the grand fiasco which was The Next Paradystopi Football Manager^TM.
On set, a large wooden desk has been assembled. Upon one side sat Viaddin, across from him, the unsettling maniacal smile of the Communadi candidate; a Mr. E. Message. The plan was that there be a little sociable discussion between the two parties about the upcoming match, Error's game-plan and anything else they saw fit to talk about. Viaddin smiled uncomfortably at Error as the lighting engineer ran about checking levels or something like that. Error leaned across the desk and spoke softly to the Paradystopi vice-captain.

"I'm not wearing any underpants."
"Oh ... Err ... Great?"

In his mind, Viaddin knew this was going to be a stressful day. He already had absolutely no way of gauging Error. The guy was completely insane. Just get it over with, go home and hide under the bed for an hour or two until the madness dissipated. With wildfire in his eyes, the executive stepped forward.

"Ready? ... Ok ... 5, 4, 3 ..."

---

"..."

The executive silently screamed at Viaddin, gesturing frantically with his hand that the midfielder should speak. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, Error saw that as his cue.

"I like Television! Woo! Hello Mum!"

He waved at the camera and the executive looked to be wrenching his greasy locks from his scalp. Viaddin took the initiative, the footage would be cut anyway.

"So Error, erm ... the next match is against Tasralia. Our qualification is guaranteed but still, how do you propose to organise the team for a strong finish to the qualifying round?"
"Ahhh ... Tasralia. I remember when they were based in the region of Equilism. Beautiful times, beautiful times. I designed their flag you know? Yes, they begged me. Piyao! 'Error, you are obviously a master of sheer artistic awesomeness. Please, we beseech you, use your gift to sculpt our national identity."
"Right ... err ... So, you have ... umm ... insider knowledge to aid you in planning a solid strategy against them?"
"Trifle! Eat more trifle!"
"..."
"..."
"I see ... Have you perchance, prepared a teamsheet for the fixture?"
"Of course. What do you take me for? A fool? Piyao!"
"Okay ... "
"..."
"May I see it?"
"It's top secret. Only the relevant head-of-state or minister for defense may see it."
"Then how do you plan to relay these instructions to the players?"
"Piyao! I have a plan for that."
"You do?"
"Yes! I will feed the teamsheet to a specially trained cat which will regurgitate it for the players. AND ONLY THE PLAYERS! DAMMIT!"
"Riiight."
"But as you are here, I'll show you now."
"Thank fuck for that."

Error winked at Viaddin before slowly untying his shoe whilst carefully scrutinising the camera crew as though he expected an ambush. He presented the footwear to Viaddin, who looked from it to Error with an expression of total bamboozlement.

"Turn it over, Silly"

Sure enough, scratched into the sole of his leather brogue was the teamsheet. Viaddin contemplated writing a pleading letter to the Buyanese FA to ask for Sirius back.

Kjn Volgjsrhaad - Goatkeeper
Rhosh Joyles - Left Defense
Edward Braithe – Central Defense
Evelyn Paradys - Central Lady Defense
Hari Selk – Right Defense
Khorinnha Khayr – Left Lady Slightly Attacking Defense
Morgana Foloris – Central Lady Slightly Attacking Defense
Marvin Yett – Right Not A Lady Slightly Attacking Defense
Viaddin Tarcka – Central Slightly More Attacking Defense
Luke Benjamin – Left Very Attacking Defense
Jay-jay Jabez – Right Very Attacking Defense

---

Yani Flodrantezt'rirhan – Central None Player
Kharon Ohltfeld – Other Central None Player
Ghengjs Aafjlh – Yet Another Central None Player

"Defensive?"
"No no no no no. NO! No no no. No no. Nose!"
"Oh?"
"Attack! ATTACK! Attacker tacker tacky tack!"
"I see. Any specific strategum?"
"Score goals."
"Right ... "
"Lots of goals."
"Yeah, I get it."
"Lots of many of multi of quantitudes of GOOOOOAAAAALLLLs! PIYAO!"
"How?"
"By putting the ball in the opponents net. Silly beans."
"Indeed ... So, umm ... is 4-3-1-2 a formation you're comfortable working with? Do you not feel it leads to exposure on wing-based counterattacks?"
"Four Three One Two?"
"Err ... yes?"
"Who taught you to count? Piyao!"
"..."
"Did you know that I once trained as a professional funeral clown? You know, someone who comes to liven up wakes and stuff like that."
"I can imagine."

Viaddin was desperately trying to make eye-contact with anyone behind the camera who could make this agony stop. Why had this guy even made the shortlist? Probably some imbecile who hadn't checked their facts, glanced over this moron's CV and thought 'yep, he'll do nicely'. Right now, Viaddin wanted nothing more than to find aforementioned person, physically chain them to Error and cast them together into the nearest ocean. Error was prattling on about some bizarre historical story. Something about his role in fighting Apoxian rebels in the German American States with a blind Sunrisian sniper called Gerald. Viaddin was even resorting to attempt telepathy to hold the Communadi's mouth firmly shut. It wasn't working.

"... So then Gerald said 'Down with Apox!" and I said "Yeah. Piyao!" but Gerald wasn't looking where he was going and fell into a hole full of poisonous dogs. I went 'Nooo!' but Gerald managed to get out unharmed after I ... or was it me that fell in the hole? ... Hmmm."
"SO ..."
"Yes Darling? Piyao!"
"Do you think we can beat Tasralia?"
"Yes, because ..."
"Thank you Error! That's all the time we have. Thank you. Good night, good day, good whatever. I'm done."

The executive jumped forward

"We can't work with that! That was less than ten minutes. We've got to get two episodes out of this."
"Seriously dude. Fuck you. You want footage, you talk to ... 'it'"
"I'm 'it'. Piyao! It tit shit bit!"

Both Viaddin and the executive looked at Error. Still he maintained that vacant smile, looking expectantly from face to face.

"..."
"..."
"Piyao!"
"Yeah. Okay people, that's a wrap. Do what you can with the footage we've got Mahjr."

---

Style Mod. = +(any random number of your chosing)

[Albaie]

OOC
This will be my first storyline inside my rps and so I hope you enjoy it and I hope it is enough to get me through to the next stage and if not I will carry it on in subsequent tournaments.

The Life and Adventures of Vincent Deberen
A Albaie footballing legend.

He was on some country road somewhere. He had lost his way he reckoned a half mile back and now by all signs he was heading out towards Pultorn and if remembered rightly Sir Richard Green a player he had played much of his career with had his estate out that way and so he might be able to stay there tonight and find his way home in the morning. He cast his mind back till only a day ago when his team had played Chiata in Chiata.

He watched his son practically dancing with the ball in front of a defender and then almost in a blink of an eye he was past him bearing down on goal and then he shot a thundering shot. The ball flew true floating over the goalkeeper who fell to the ground as he tried to catch it and the ball hit the back of the net and as he lent back in his seat to give a sigh of relief the familiar noise erupted. First the collective gasp as they watched the shot beat the keeper. Next came the collective roar as they voiced their happiness then came the song.
" Oh it's Deberen
Oh It is
He is the greatest
I have ever seen
But which one do I mean
Elder or Younger
Oh wait they are about the same "
The song was the first for his son but it was just one of many he had heard sung about him throughout his career in the game. He expected that this song he heard as he watched his son run up to the Albaie fans and Dubrack Salute would be the last one he had written about himself as his son had burst onto the footballing stage with his success in the internationals over the break and he was certain his form would continue at domestic level. It was 2-1 now to his team and as the away team he was delighted and the clock was ticking down only 3 minutes to go so it looked like his team had won he thought as he rose from his seat with Mark and "Lucky" both flanking him on either side as he walked towards the tunnel.

" Dad check this out. " He heard Mark say and he turned around. They were just into Imperial Dubrack Town Airport and him and Mark were at the back of the crowd. He could sport every type of member of the international setup in this group. Up near the front were the players either they were the most eager to get out and see the adoring fans or the ones most wanting to get home out of the way of their fame, after them came the Albaie Football Association officials and at their center Duke Arthur Sportern head of the AFA and his old teammate and one of his best friends flanking him were a group of aides and security members all designed to keep Sportern who as AFA Chairman was one of the most well known men in the Imperium. After them came the group of staff who had served him faithfully many of them were his staff at Dubrack's Town Celtic but other such as the two Fastton's on the outside of the group were his rivals at domestic level but here on the international stage were his closest companions. Then here at the back were his closest comrades all bar Sportern who had to get to a meeting in the city within half an hour. With him were all three of his sons Sir Mark Deberen his assistant manager and his chosen protege and successor to manage both club and country once he retired, Brigadier Michael Deberen the only member of the family with no footballing experience but he managed the families political interests and had quickly become one of the Emperor's retinue and was making a name for himself on the battlefield as well, Vincent Deberen his namesake and successor on the pitch who had a bright future ahead of him and already was burning brighter than a star on the pitch and finally Edward " Lucky " Mercer who had only recently joined the Deberen family after having played for Dubrack's Town Celtic as a teenager and being the greatest goalkeeping prospect until a car accident ended his career but now after years in the Imperial Guard and a very decorated service he had been found by himself and was now a goalkeeping coach for club and country but his son's assistant in the reserves and youth games he manages. He took the tablet his son held out towards him. It showed the table in their qualifying group and he smiled as he read it.
" We have to manage a point against Uitbregen and hope that Texacano don't score more than 3 to go through. " He said and the four around him nodded.
" It is possible boss but we would need a hell of a performance. " "Lucky" added as they strolled through passport control with the guards letting the whole team through.
" Where is the game being played. " He asked surprised he didn't remember.
" At the Imperial father but according to what I heard the Emperor saying he wants to get its name changed to the Saint Ruk Park which I must admit sounds better. " Michael said adding his information garnered from the court.
" Ahh good we stand a chance then. " He said as they walked out the main doors into the hive of fans and media attention and he turned to his four disciples and added one final comment. " Make sure you get the team working hard we need that point and Michael drum up enough noble support to inspire a victory. " He said first to the three footballers in the group then the last to their political member before he got into the car waiting for him.

That was how he had got here and if he had only not taken that wrong turning about four hours ago he would be home by now watching the highlights of the game not sat in his car listening to the Red Spears singing about the Battle of Hurten Hill. His mind went to the lineup he would play next game. " His son up front or Queb " He thought as a bright light filled his vision. There was a truck on the wrong side of the road. He twisted the wheel as he gasped. He felt a thudding in the back of his car and then he was spinning. He had lost control and his vision was going crazy. It felt like he was rolling over. The windscreen smashed open and he gave a roar as he was covered in glass. The car was up right again but it was still out of control and he looked up and saw a tree and it seemed to be rapidly moving towards him.

Vincent Deberen involved in serious road accident

The Albaie and Dubrack's Town Celtic manager and ex player was involved in a serious road accident on his way home from the International Dubrack's Town Airport. It is thought he took a wrong turn on the motorway and as he was trying to get his bearings a unaware truck driver passed onto his side of the road and caused the beloved football icon to lose control of his car and end up a quarter of a mile of road crashed into a tree. Reports from the scene which was not open to reporters but from a police statement suggest the football legend is in a critical condition and on the Emperor's orders there is to not be any media contact not asked for by the House of Deberen. We hope to bring you more reports but from the police statement it seems he is in the Imperial Saint Leif Hospital with expert staff attending his needs.

Breaking news just in as his son and heir Sir Mark Deberen as exited the family home in the capital to give a statement. We bring you the video live from the scene.

Sir Mark Deberen walks out of the family home in a suit and is followed by his two brothers also in suits but they stay waiting at the door. Sir Mark walks up to a set up podium to give a speech to the gathered audience who he gave prior notice to.

" I have called you here to give a personal report on my father's condition. My father was involved in a severe road accident early on this evening. He was caught by a truck driver who was not concentrating and he lost control of the car and ended up some distance away badly injured. The medical crew arrived soon after due to the truck driver commendably realizing what he had done and informing the authorities while he may be the cause of the accident he has surely helped my father. He was treated at the scene but I am told he is in a coma and being treated at the Imperial Saint Leif Hospital at the behest of our gracious Emperor who has allowed him to be treated at the Imperial family hospital. I am going to be heading there within a few moment once my mother is ready to leave and so I humbly implore you to clear the driveway and allow us to leave. I thank you for your time and I will try my best to keep you informed on my father's situation. " Sir Mark said and the gathered audience gave a solemn applause and then parted from the driveway and a few minutes later the family exited in a car on their way to go see Count Vincent in hospital where he lies in a coma.

[Nekoni]

NTR News Network

Is this the most important match in Nekoni football history?
An analysis of Group Three's D-Day

  Group Three                    Pld   W  D  L   GF  GA  GD  Pts 
1 Chrovan                          5   3  1  1   12  10  +2   10
2 Nekoni                           5   3  0  2   10   9  +1    9
3 Taijan                           5   2  2  1   11   6  +5    8
4 Iseteskog                        5   0  1  4    1   9  −8    1

We wanted a Game Six to remember, and by all acounts, we're about to get one. You'd never have believed this at the start of the tournament, would you? Just when they looked out of the running, Nekoni, coming off a pretty standard win against Iseteskog, somehow managed to take Chrovan by surprise and beat them 2-1, leaving the fate of the top three in the balance come Game 6.

iseteskog are way out of it, managing only a single point against Taijan, and their final game against an immensely powerful Chrovan side doesn't look like it'll change matters that much (incidentally, Isetseskog only once have managed to trouble the scorekeepers, and this was against Chrovan last time they played). Still, it's a funny game, football, and if lady luck is smiling, you never know if they could pull a shock win. Chrovan have mathematically qualified, but time will tell as to whether the side plays the group out, or holds some players back for the knockout phase. This may end up being their downfall: if results don't go their way, and Chrovan fail to win, they could end up in the runner-up spot.

Closer to home, Nekoni have a point over Taijan, but at this phase, a point just isn't enough. Taijan are a tough team to beat, only managing one loss, which was to the group leaders, compared to Nekoni's two. Their last match against the Black and Gold ended in a humiliating 4-1 defeat, and the fact that only a win will do will spur them on. Their far superior goal difference to anybody else in the group would mean that, if Iseteskog finally find form, and a lot of it, a Taijan win would result in them leading the way out of Group 3. However, their record against the titanic Chrovan is worse than ours, so perhaps this could be a sign of weakness when against aggressive opposition? Again, it's one thing to look at the numbers, but a whole other when we play for real with millions of hearts at stake. This may be for the runner-up spot, but trust me when I say this: this may be Nekoni's most important football match so far.

Still, whatever the result tomorrow, even the most ardent cynic cannot deny that Nekoni's new coach is working wonders for the team. Going through two consecutive tournaments without a win, holding up the foot of the table, and in the space of one training period, honing them to serious qualifying candidates. The smart money may be on Taijan tomorrow, but you can be certain that more than a fair few would want Nekoni to silence the doubters once and for all. For a country of catpeople, we sure love a good underdog story, and, with a little bit of luck, this could be another one to add to the legends.

Match prediction:

Taijan win (Head)

Nekoni win (Heart)

[Uitbregen]

Lilyport
Lily Island
Wray


I had little knowledge of my wider role in things. I'd grown up as a Wrayian, with a Wrayian family and Wrayian friends, I'd grown up to resent but respect our former Colonial masters Uitbregen, which lay across the Hollander Sea. I'd spent 13 out of my 15 years under Uitbregeni dominion, but it meant little to me. Lilyport, my home island, was relatively isolated from colonial control and I'd never felt the pains of colonisation, except for the time when a Uitbregeni cruiser docked in the port and suddenly the island was swarming with Marines.

It all happened one summer's evening. Over in Uitbregen, the Communist Party had been forcibly kicked out by a 10,000 strong gathering outside the National Palace in Denvargen. Premier Kotten de Wik had been rushed to the airport and flown to some undisclosed location in Esportiva. But he needn't have, the people weren't angry. They were just fed up. I was walking back from school, along the old Coastal Path road, watching the sun set in the distance. I heard the rumble of an engine behind me but I took no notice. Cars were common along here, especially in the summer months when tourists from across the region flocked in for a taste of the beaches and woodlands on the island. The vehicle, a white van with no apparent markings, passed me slowly. I looked back to the sun set, until I heard the click of the side door of the van opening. But by then, it was too late. Two men, dressed in Camo fatigues, had jumped out of the van and rushed to grab me. I kicked in vain as one of them wrapped their arms around me, whilst the other rummaged around in a small bag. I tried to scream, but my mouth was quickly bound. The second man brought out a hypodermic syringe and plunged it into my arm. I immediately felt drowsy and I ceased struggling. It was all over so suddenly. One moment it was utter chaos, the next, the birds continued singing as if nothing had happened.

I came to some time later, but there was something covering my eyes and my hearing was muffled. We were still moving, although I couldn't hear the recognisable rumble of the van's engine. Despite my better judgement, I immediately attempted to shift myself to find out where I was. I suddenly fell a foot or two onto a cold hard metal surface. I let out a small swear upon tasting blood in my mouth, before I went quiet again after hearing voices. I couldn't make out what they were saying, though it wasn't in Wrayian. I then heard footsteps coming towards me and I braced myself for the worst. But instead of a blow, the covering on my head was removed. Stale air filled my mouth and nostrils.

And I immediately vomited.

I wasn't looking very ladylike, hair ruffled, clothes unwashed, eye-liner smeared horribly down my face. I squinted up into the bright light that filled the compartment. Out the windows was nothing but blue sky. I was on a plane. A military one it appeared, with no seating except for two benches either side of the compartment. I turned again to face my captors. The man who stood there was still wearing his camo coverings, but he looked far friendlier than when I was abducted. He leant down and handed me a bottle of water, which I drank eagerly. I shuffled into a more comfortable position on the benches before the man put his arm on my shoulder.

"Ma'am, I don't know how to tell you this."

Ma'am? I thought.

"But you're the future monarch of our nation"