Copa Rushmori XXXV - Everything Thread

[Nephara]

Nephara 2 - 1 Graintfjall
(4-4-2) 1 - Mercator; 2 - Stride (18 - Rostock 65'), 5 - Thorn (c), 6 - Brosch, 3 - Muscadin; 13 - Saroszi, 15 - Kastriot, 21 - Moxham (8 - Cromwell 76'), 11 - Deventer (16 - Caracole 76'); 9 - Bastable, 14 - Tzorvas
Goals: Tzorvas 24', Thorn 37'

Extracts from the Book of Thorn.

Played badly.
Won anyway.
It's getting old.

This was different to the others, at least. We started well. Started bright, even. The Snow Wolves hunkered down, physical at the back, disciplined. For twenty minutes, they kept us at bay, but we were in fine form and it was only a matter of time 'til someone did something. The someone was Arista, chesting down a clever little flick from Moxi and smashing into the stanchion, the kind of strike you can only do when you're confident.

2-0 by half-time and we seemed to be cruising. You're welcome, by the way. The only thing novel about the goal was I scored it, and people act like it's impressive, but it's not. It's patronising. I'm a fucking world-class centre-half. I know how to head a cross, not like I lose all sense of my fucking bearings when I'm at the wrong net. So yeah. Came to me, off a deflection I think, seemed to skim off the big number 4's scalp. I adjusted. Easy.

I found out at half-time the Cormorants twii.tur account photoshopped me doing the pogchamp face after the goal. Is anyone really surprised I laid off Antoninsson a little? Let him play through that chick, Aunosdottir? Tidy finish. But that's what I'm blaming.

[Sketched in the margins is an unshaven guy - a stereotypical IT nerd - being beaten with a steel chair by Ivy Herrick.]

That gave 'em confidence. It was kind of against the run of play, but they could've added to it a couple times after. Hesterine earned her corn in goal, though she's mad she hasn't had a clean sheet yet, thinks her stats are suffering for it as if literally anyone gives a shit about clean sheets. Ten, fifteen minutes, maybe, we went without a shot, closed down in midfield and harried around our box.

Couldn't last forever. They tired, Rasmus and Lothaire came on. Mostly Lothaire; his extra muscle helped weigh things our way again. Arista misses an easy chance, sends it straight into Leonardsson's chest, and Bastable had a poor game all 'round. But a win is a win and we're another step closer.

Tell you what, though, we really need to pull our shit together or Pasarga are gonna body us just like the pinks did.

[Savojarna]

Cut-off brought to you today by the sometimes broken and heavily delayed flawless train service by Deutsche Bahn. Isn't it wonderful I can conduct a virtual football tournament with participants from multiple continents, while driving through the Netherlands at three-digit-speeds?

COPA RUSHMORI XXXV

Round of 16 (Octofinals) - Astograth half

Pasarga 0–2 Nephara

Cassadaigua 1–3 Southwest Eastnorth

Semifinal matchup:
Nephara vs. Southwest Eastnorth

[Valladares]

Quarterfinals. Eura.

Whenever these words were put together in the same sentence and in the same tournament, it could mean anything but good news for the Valladar national football team as their counterparts from the other side of the Ituyán mountain range (or Askoy, as they call it there) were usually the better side in their meetings in decisive rounds, with the feeling being exacerbated following Eura's win over Valladares at the quarterfinals of World Cup 74 in Eterna City. The 35th Copa Rushmori being currently played in Astograth and Savojarna became the next chapter of this big Terranean rivalry as both sides were once again put against each other in the quarterfinals of the competition, and with the Eurans coming in as defending champions and winning all their matches until then, while the Valladars did just enough to finish as runners-up in their group and then narrowly beat Taeshan in the Round of 16, most people would expect the usual outcome of EURA VICTOR. However, the longer Valladares spent without being able to beat Eura, the determination of La Nacional players to finally defeat them became stronger. And once the members of this iteration of the Valladar national football team found out they were to face the Eurans in the next round, that desire and will to win was further ignited.

A sold out Stadion General Erik Harden in Thorsborg was brimming with excitement as the 22 Euran and Valladar players entered the pitch while thousands of fans from both nations, as well as a sizeable contingent of neutral Savojars cheered on the stands. The match kicked off and neither team took too long to make their real intentions known as both sides went on an offensive frenzy from the very beginning. That said, the first 10 minutes of the game saw no less than two clear chances per team, with Kevin Belgrave and Paulo Gaviria showing their best skills to save their teams from peril. The stalemate would not last much longer, though, since Damion Bowman put Eura on the lead at the 12th minute following a successful foray into the Valladar defense, surpassing the Valladar centrebacks as well as Gaviria to send the ball to the back of the net. This goal turned the game into a more open and back-and-forth affair, as the Eurans kept pushing to extend their lead while the Valladars replied with their own weapons. The Valladar response would end in an equalizer six minutes later, with Thibault Benezet being assisted by Ronald Mickel to put both sides level again. After that goal, the team coached by Jessica Curran took the initiative and gave lots of troubles to the Euran defense with the mobility of Ronald Mickel and Mateo Padilla through the wings. However, neither Alexandre nor Wilfried Baume were sharp enough to turn these chances into goals, and the ones who made the best of their chances before the end of the first half were the Eurans, who retook the lead thanks to a Valladar defensive deconcentration and a howitzer fired by Brian Bond in the 43rd minute.

With Valladares trailing at halftime, the resumption of the match saw La Nacional firing on all cylinders against the goal defended by Kevin Belgrave. The wings were once again instrumental to the Valladar strategy, eventually becoming the means by which the equalizer came: Ronald Mickel received a pass from Bryan Castillo, who had recently entered the match, and swiftly sprinted through the right wing, shooting an accurate cross which found Alexandre’s head and went into the goal in the 56th minute. Valladares' second equalizer caused Eura to go on the offense again, while the Valladars tried to keep the pressure over their rivals. At this point in the match, the posts became as protagonists as the goalkeepers were, denying the goal to both teams on several occasions, with Eura hitting the crossbar twice and Valladares having two shots rebounding on the goalposts, one right after the other. The situation would not stand that way for long, though, with Moira Woakes giving the Eurans the lead in the 74th minute, and convincing the Dagan gaffer from sending a fourth defender in the form of Thiago Matheus to shield the defense from further Euran advances, as well as striker Alfred Valdivia to refresh the attack as well as capitalize on his knowledge on Euran football. This thrilling and fast-paced match would have one last event reserved for the end, with Valdivia taking advantage of a corner kick awarded to Valladares which the Euran defense had been unable to get rid of, getting the rebound and kicking it into the goal to deny the Eurans victory with just two minutes to go and send this dramatic affair to extra time. The 30 minutes of extra time were nothing but a mere preparation for the incoming penalty shootout, with both sides choosing to be cautious and careful in order to avoid making mistakes or giving their rivals an opening that would have finished everything.

And so, the match went to the tense kicks from the penalty mark. The coin toss was won by the Valladars, and Wilfried Baume opened the shootout with a nice shot to the lower right corner of the goal defended by Belgrave. Brian Bond was unable to equalize for the Eurans, with his kick going wide, whilst Christian O'Brien made it 2-0 by scoring his attempt. Paulo Gaviria saved Eura's second attempt by Scott Coles while Alfred Valdivia increased Valladares' lead to three goals, thus piling up more pressure on the Eurans. The third attempt for the Eurans was already critical, since a miss by Monica Rowland would end the shootout and send Valladares straight to the semifinals. Eventually Rowland would not fail to keep the defending champions in the game, but they were not depending on themselves anymore. It was all now down to Mateo Padilla: in case he scored, it was all over. A miss would give Eura an extra life. The Euran fans on the stands were fully aware of it and tried their best to make the Fontvielle Impact winger lose his focus by booing and jeering. However, Padilla remained calm and unfazed. The referee's whistle sounded, Padilla started running towards the ball on the mark, his left leg sent it to the Belgrave's left, the Euran goalie went the other way and that was it. The shoot-out had finally ended and Valladares had, at long last, beat Eura to make it to the semifinals of this Copa edition where hosts Savojarna were already waiting. The Valladar contingent in the stands of Stadion General Erik Harden sang in elation as La Nacional finally broke the "Quarterfinals vs. Eura" jinx, while the Valladar players approached the stand where the biggest group of fans were seating to thank them for their support. And for once, the usual victory chant at the end of those Terranean showdowns would be...

...VALLADARES VICTOR.

Eura 3-3 Valladares (3-3 AET)
(Bowman 12', Bond 43', Woakes 74'; Benezet 18', Alexandre 56', Valdivia 88')

Eura: Belgrave - Coles, Roberts, Steele, Burns - Rowland, Robshaw - Griffiths, Woakes - Bowman, Bond
Manager: Michael Brandon (Nephara)

Valladares: Gaviria - Marrugo, Delgado, Rueda - Rojas, O'Brien, Mickel, Padilla - Baume, Alexandre, Benezet
Subbed Out: Rojas 54', Mickel 75', Alexandre 85'
Subbed In: Castillo 54', Matheus 75', Valdivia 85'
Unused Subs: Dussan, Brown, Démont, Malicki, Lachlant, Durmisi, Pearson, Germain, Chamoun
Manager: Jessica Curran (Cassadaigua)

Penalty shootout: Eura 1-4 Valladares
Eura: Bond (missed), Coles (saved), Rowland (scored)
Valladares: Baume (scored), O'Brien (scored), Valdivia (scored), Padilla (scored)

[Southwest Eastnorth]

We're still kicking!
Article takes excerpts from - swensport.swe/national_football_team.html

ASTOGRATH - Have you seen a team with such luck? Our pot 1 team was the host nation a nation who had seen better days years ago, our pot 2 team was a struggling Eastfield Lodge (who still beat us), Askari Union and an tough unknown underdog Grainfjael made up the rest of the group. The group was won buy us as the top teams slipped and the younger teams surged, it found EFL in third, Graintfjael in second and Us in the winners spot all moved on. Of those three we're the only one to have made it far.

3-1 was the score, Cassadaigua 1, Southwest Eastnorth 3, we are moving on to the Semi finals! Yes the miracle run continues as a brilliant strategy by coach Tipolis as he used a taller defensive front to counter the smaller more agile Cassadaigua. Chris Houton looked fashionable up front getting 66.7% of the goals for the Frontiersmen/Pioneers. Houton went toe to toe with some of the finest players the Matriarchy has to offer. Houton's ball handling skills worked well and he got matched up well versus the Daigans. Van Austin also got another goal, outrunning the Daigans in the 35th minute for a score. The Daigans made it close when they chose Midfielder Wolcott to take a PK but a quick 90+1 Injury Time goal by Houton again blew the game open leaving the multi nicknamed Frontiersmen/Pioneers in a comfortable lead. Also of note was reserve defender Shauna LeCLaire. The multi sport athlete from the University of Virginia City was excellent and her tall lanky volleyball playing frame helped match up well versus the Daigans. the use of a zone like defense similar to that of a basketball or gridiron game worked wonders and now the reword for the Frontiersmen/Pioneers is a date with the excellent Nephara team.

Southwest Eastnorth - 3
Austin 35'
Houton 66' 90+1

Cassadaigua - 1
Wolcott 72' (PK)

[Savojarna]

SavojarSports.sj - inside reports from all Savojarna
Back to Sjoedrhavn: Jacobsen shoots Savojarna to semifinals

By Jaukka Halanen
The Copa Rushmori quarterfinal seems to be a particular place for Savojarna; one where stars are born. In the Copa 31 quarters, a 0-0 against Qusmo had led to the penalty shootout where Viktorija Petrova moved from high-level goalkeeper to bona fide legend. In the Copa 34, Polina Zirkova’s star rose with an unexpected start and a long ball that had become the starting point of the decisive goal. Now, it was Jacobsen who managed to inscribe himself in Savojar footballing lore with a potentially historic goal.

Another long-standing rule of Savojar Copa quarterfinals was: the more goals, the worse for the Northlights. Their big quarterfinal coups came when games were slow and tight, every ball a fight; high-scoring games spelled disaster like in their early Copa 33 exit against Schottia. It seemed like Rangren was aware of that, with the team lining up unusually defensively and Jashkin in particular hanging back on the wing. However, no amount of defence could constrain Krister Voynov to a more workmanlike position, and the left winger was the first one to take aim at the Sargossan goal ten minutes in. His ball bounced off the outside of the post, making an announcement that the fifty-thousand Savojar fans in Pawlograd would see an ambitious team despite the careful start.

The match picked up some steam as Sargossa had their best phase in the middle of the first half, getting off three good shots between the 15th and the 25th minute. However, Pakanen showed his form, saving a low shot to the left for a corner and clearing the following cross smoothly; five minutes later he was quick to catch a tricky free kick around the wall. Then, he needed a bit of luck as Costa whiffed a direct shot from the edge of the box, the ball just about grazing the crossbar as it went out. The Sargossans were encouraged and pushed harder, but Savojarna moved to tight defence to counter. Andersson and Forsberg both collected a yellow in this period, the second one for the latter, making him a painful loss for the semifinal. The free kick resulting from Forsberg’s foul was a dangerous one too, shot from nineteen metres in a central position, but the ball went about thirty centimetres to the left.

Savojarna knew how to use the resulting openings and managed to almost score half an hour into the game, as Andersson took the ball cleanly off Fonseca and started a counter over Krister Voynov, but Carter would take down the winger right as his cross towards Jotansson sailed off. With the striker missing the ball, the referee awarded a free kick, but the attempt went nowhere. A better shot came in the final minutes of the first half, but Lundells attempt went wide, leaving the game locked at nil-nil. Savojarna came out of the locker room unchanged on paper, but changed in mentality. Captain Victoria Maersk said that they wanted to make the second half theirs, and that the first half was about minimising risk when the second was about scoring the goals, and it was visible on the pitch. Lundell missed a through ball to Jashkin by a hair’s breadth as Ruiz cleared right in front of the winger; minutes later a Jotansson header went over the bar.

Changes came after the hour, when Rangren made the choice of removing the active, but increasingly defeated Rika Lundell in favour of a more countering variant. As Savojarna took control of the game, Escribano and Carter got increasingly comfortable in sitting back, Rangren said after the match. Wanting to force Sargossa out more, she shifted to a two-top of Jotansson and the faster Jacobsen, and letting the Corsairs attack more again. Long balls were now the dominant method of attack for Savojarna, and it worked beautifully as Voynov sprinted down the touchline to get a long diagonal pass in the 71st, then crossed it flat into the box where Jotansson left it through for Jacobsen. But the Alnio striker didn’t hit it well enough, letting the ball fly just about wide. Five minutes later, Maersk carried it past Pomar in a one versus one before passing it down the right wing, catching Escribano out of position and giving space to Jashkin. This time, Jotansson headed it not for the goalie, but for his teammate Jacobsen, who scored with a sliding volley.

Now in the lead, Savojarna had to withstand the fierce attacks of an increasingly offensive Sargossa, leading to a desperate effort to hold on. Long balls and rough play became common, Andersson substituted to avoid risking a yellow as both central midfielders were forced into tactical fouls during the last minutes. Mellin, having been brought on for more countering power, almost got a second goal but failed to score from eight metres out, shooting the ball into the outside net. On the other side, Sainz was first to fail as he shot the ball right into the hands of Pakanen from short range; minutes later, seasoned joker Fabian Guzmán failed to hit the goal from ten metres out. The last chance was a ranged shot by Goyoso, blocked by Zirkova for a corner that Pakanen saved. And then, the whistle went to secure the second semifinal in a row for Savojarna, this time on home soil.

Matchwinner Jacobsen said after the game: “This is a boyhood dream come true, it’s incredible, in front of your own fans that have been so amazing for the entire tournament, I can’t believe it. They, Sargossa, they gave us an amazing fight and I think this is something else, this game, it can really become a modern Rushmori classic. We’ve only played twice, I think, but both of them, they were so special, so high stakes, so close games, I just can’t believe it. The team is amazing, and I tell you, everyone here is ready, we’re so ready to go all the way”. Coach Mikaela Rangren tried to curb the enthusiasm among her team, stating: “We’ve had some incredible phases and the mentality of the team was superb tonight, they never stopped fighting and believing in it even when the game was tough. But it’s important to see what was on the pitch. Sargossa had their strong phases and we needed some luck sometimes. This is fine, that’s part of sports, but still - don’t get too cocky”.

Next up, we’re travelling back to Sjoedrhavn for a semifinal against Valladares. La Nacional had matched Eura in a six-goal-thriller in Thorsborg, and managed to win in the shootout, a feat that shows the fighting spirit and the incredible mental fortitude of Valladares. We’re hoping to return the favour in a big game, and I think that based on the recent records of the teams Savojarna may enter this game lightly favoured, but there is really no way of telling. On the other side in Astograth, Nephara beat Pasarga in a game that may as well have been a final. However, the other game brought a surprise as Southwest Eastnorth, a previously obscure nation, took down Cassadaigua to lock in a semifinal berth. Obviously, the Nepharim are major favourites in this matchup, but a win of Southwest Eastnorth would be the stuff that Copa legends are made of.

Savojarna 1-0 Sargossa (0-0)
Stadion Admiral Rjurden, Pawlograd (audience: 57’500/sold out)

Goal: 76’ Jacobsen 1-0 (Jotansson).
Yellow cards: 19’ Andersson, 26’ Forsberg, 31’ Carter, 64’ Pomar, 79’ Maersk, 85’ Gren (all foul).
Red cards: none
Remarks: 10’ Voynov hits post, 24’ Costa hits crossbar. Forsberg misses next game (yellow cards).

Savojarna: Pakanen - Pedersen, Zirkova, Forsberg, Skov - Andersson (79’ Gren), Maersk - Voynov, Lundell (62’ Jacobsen), Jashkin (82’ Mellin) - Jotansson.
Sargossa: Penedo - Escribano, Ruiz, Esnáider, Alarcón, Carter (79’ Puebla) - Goyoso, Pomar (67’ Varela), Fonseca - Sainz, Costa (79’ Guzmán).

[Nephara]

Pasarga 0 - 2 Nephara
(4-4-2) 1 - Mercator; 2 - Stride (18 - Rostock 62'), 5 - Thorn (c), 6 - Brosch, 3 - Muscadin; 13 - Saroszi (7 - Kuepper 77'), 4 - Shone (15 - Kastriot 84'), 21 - Moxham, 11 - Deventer; 9 - Bastable, 14 - Tzorvas
Goals: Bastable 52', 81'

Extracts from the Book of Thorn.

It turned out Kurtis Bastable can play the tambura.
We needed last night to break the tension. Training ended early. People were tired, jaded; Strauss had run us hard, harder with the influence of Herrick behind her.
We knocked off, went for a few drinks. A couple. Just enough to loosen our tongues a bit, when the news came through that the Vanorian Emperor ate the dust.
Well, fuck it! Nothing gets people together like a constitutional crisis!
I think it was Lothaire who started singing. One of the old songs, a proper Marcher anthem about the boys going north to escape their broken homes and find their fortunes. Kurtis disappeared, then re-emerged with his tambura. Lothaire can sing; I cannot. Not many of us can. We'd fairly quickly shunted everyone else from the bar, but did anyone dare throw us out?
Well, yeah, but it took a couple hours and we just went somewhere else, anyway. Lasted another hour. Took it to the streets.
It was good to cut loose a bit. We needed that. Felt a bit more pride, a bit more trust in the people around me. Saw Vivica and Monako beat up a guy. They hadn't gone on so well before, I think, but ever since? Thick as thieves.
And I reignited things with Ilyana. The time felt right.

[There's a sketch of Bastable playing a long stringed instrument, as described. He is shirtless and Marica Kuepper has stars for eyes, not as described. Herrick looms in the background with a steel chair.]

--

It all came together, I fucking knew it would!
We clicked like we hadn't since-- not even since the 7-1, we still fucking conceded then. Here? Here it clicked.
Oh, to have played like this in the Final a year ago...
The opposition was basically an all-star Goldleague outfit. Lot of guys I knew the inside track on, me or Monako. And my teammate Jager, love the prick, a proper competitor. But I know how to handle him. I've done it in training multiple times a week for years.
Did a lot of handling in the first half. Lot of running, chasing, swearing, in the dusty red kits still fresh from the memory of the Final, Strongbow's red. But we had 'em under control. 4-4-2 vs. 4-4-2. They had drive and vim and all that shit, and looked dangerous a couple times. Like seven minutes in, Gersten cuts inside Muscadin and shoots, I helpfully get out a leg and nearly send it past Hesterine, who's at full stretch to tip it against the inside of the post and it's pure luck that keeps it rolling in anyway. Ilyana's pace pays off; she beats Mueller and Csapo to it, drives it into the stratosphere. Mercator catches the corner, then we nearly score at their end but it looks like Arista's just dwelled on it too long, let herself be muscled to the floor by Meier. We're not crying for a penalty over that. It's a contact sport.
Neither side lets themselves get cut open like that again, not in the first half. Kurtis had a shot blocked from a good position. I took one full in the tits from Csapo. Never trust any cunt who willingly goes to the fucking wetlands.
Still, by the end we were narrowly easing on top. Just not quite the cutting edge, not yet. That'll happen when it's a meeting of two of the strongest centre-half partnerships in world football.
Never did believe in false modesty, myself.

It's the fifty-somethingth minute. Deventer down the left - wham! Cleaned out by Csikos. Even our boys are looking for a foul here; no dice. Deventer gets to her feet. Looks limping a bit. But it's just an act, is what she tells me. And Vivica knows it, running up to take the throw-in, looking at her options before suddenly breaking it down the left, a long hurl over the top of Csikos and Deventer is not offside 'cause that's how throw-ins work and the cross comes in and where's Kurtis? Hanging back towards the edge of the box. The cross thuds into his chest. It drops. He hammers the ball high into the top corner.
Bit of trickery. Bit of guile. Bit of cunning. A damn good cross. A whole heap of ruthlessness.
The rest of the game was kinda calm. Like... calm before the storm, but the storm wasn't coming. It's not that Pasarga didn't try. That they didn't have the tools to break us, on another day. But they had to come at us hard, snatch back an equaliser, but we were on our shit. Ilyana and me, we know each other, we have that instinctive cover. Mercator was on her shit. And not much was getting through anyway because Tawny had the game of her life, destroying without fouling, inch-perfect here there and everywhere. Linde added some stability on my right, too, I'm thankful for that. I love Little Ro but she really needs to track the fuck back more often. She comes on and Csapo finally goes quiet, thank God, and Szolossy comes on only to be quiet too.
And then one attack gets broken down by me, crashing through, battling my man Jager. He steps on my ankle but I get there first, falling, sliding, hooking it away, crumpling. He falls on me. It fucking hurts.
I had to look on twii.tur to find out what happens next, which is; the ball gets to Chimera Moxham, who's been quiet. She passes to Muscadin, to Deventer, who squares it back to her, she's shepherded away from goal, sends it back to Shone who sends it back and she feints with her back to goal, sending her marked Foldessy the wrong way as she plays in Tzorvas with a flick of her boot, Tzorvas leathers it, Szatmary parries instinctively, a great reflex save but it can only bounce into the path of Kurtis Bastable...
And that's the part I see. The important bit.

The boys are getting ready to go out and party again. Not so much we'll be wiped for training tomorrow, but enough to loosen it again.
Kurtis is bringing the tambura.

[Astograth]

COPA RUSHMORI XXXV

Semifinals - Savojarna half

Valladares 3–6 Savojarna

In a last-minute decision by the Confederación Rushmori de Fútbol, with an eye to maximising commercial revenue, the Copa Rushmori XXXV final will be moved to the Nationalstadion Carl Gustaf Bjurman, Sjoedrhavn, Savojarna. The third place match will take place at Grand Duke's Stadium, Rumiatzi, Astograth.

[Savojarna]

Cut-off for the second semifinal of the Copa Rushmori!

Semifinals - Astograthian half

Nephara 3–3 Southwest Eastnorth (4–3 AET)

[Astograth]

(OOC: The switch was agreed beforehand if Savojarna made the final, and will have no bearing on scorination).

"What do you mean, changed?" asked Ugaitz Abasgoitia, president of the Futbol Astograthiko Federazioa.

"I mean it's changed," replied Sedoa Biridari, Astograthian Minister for Sport, on the other end of the line.

"No. No, they can't do this."

"It's already done."

"How! Everything's ready! The final is here!"

"Ugaitz... you're not in charge".

Beads of sweat had formed on Abasgoitia's reddening face. "It- I- what do you mean?"

"You're relieved from the committee. I've conducted the negotiations myself with the CRF and the Savojars. And they're right, it simply makes the most sense - and the most money. Just imagine, Savojarna winning the Copa in Savojarna. What that would do for the ratings and the brand. What's good for the CRF is good for us."

"B- b-" sputtered Abasgoitia.

"You're right, too, of course. Everything's set up at Grand Duke's. It'll just host the third place match instead."

"But no! No! Sedoa, come on. Prestige? Of the Copa? What about us? M- our prestige! I- we won this! The final, here! Grand Duke's is bigger th-"

"Ugaitz, it's done. It's over. You're relieved. Goodbye."

On that late night ride through dark Olarria, behind the dark windows of his dark limousine, Ugaitz Abasgoitia was anything but relieved.

[Savojarna]

Last Scorination of the Savojar side - tomorrow, we'll have a new champion. As of now, we have a new third place finisher.

Third place Play-Offs

Valladares 4–3 Southwest Eastnorth

[Savojarna]

The Final

Nationalstadion Carl Gustaf Bjurman, Sjoedrhavn, Savojarna

Nothing quite matches the feelings before a big match, and no match is bigger than a final. The atmosphere in the Savojar locker room is tense, despite the seven clean victories in a row. Many of the 23 men and women assembled here in blue jerseys know the feeling of a Copa final, they have been here two years earlier, but then it wasn’t in Savojarna. Then, it wasn’t with the expectation of 70’000 behind them. Dark Savojarsk metal booms through the room, with the angelic voice of a woman cutting over the guitars and drums. The cabin DJ, defender Flemming Skov, is sitting next to the speaker, with his phone in hand, nervously scrolling through a playlist. Next to him, striker Simon Jacobsen is sitting, his legs restless and head hanging in concentration. One of the few who haven’t been there in Eastfield Lodge, the striker is nervous.

He’s not alone. Across the room, Victoria Maersk is sitting next to Polina Zirkova, an arm laid around the younger centre-back, and calmingly talking to her. Victoria had become close friends with her younger teammate two years earlier, when Polina was terrified over playing in the quarterfinals; now, it had become something of a ritual for both to comfort and reassure each other. Iiro Pakanen is the polar opposite, isolated in a corner, noise-cancelling headphones on, completely in focus. Nobody can talk to the keeper in the locker room. Rika Lundell, the team’s new star, looks for his proximity for the same reason; she prefers the quiet and calm to the hectic of the locker room. Only few players talk to her now. Misha Jashkin, her partner on the side, is talking tactics with Rika and discussing how they want to beat the Nepharim. Next to the door, Krister Voynov is standing in front of the bench, a showman even in the locker room. Chatting with Forsberg and Jotansson, the trio is being silly over the music, as suddenly the drums and guitars stop.

Mikaela Rangren’s announcement. “We’ve all come here together. You know the drill, you know the tactics. We can beat Nephara, we did it two years ago. This isn’t Eura in front of a neutral crowd. This is Nephara, where no Savojar team has lost in what, seven years? Don’t be afraid of them. This is our soil. Make us proud”. It was a short speech, behooving the situation. Mikaela knew when to keep things short.

Then, they all convened in a circle. A special occasion. As one of the few Ejanans on the team, it was up to Arvid to fetch the Mjolnir amulet in his bag. Ejana was the seat of the Gods. Then, Alex Nurkanen got his own Sumani sacred amulet, a depiction of the God of Victory. Misha Jashkin murmured a few Russian words, crossing himself quietly. Victoria uncorked a bottle of mead. They were not ones for old rituals, but they promised themselves to do it if they would reach the finals. A Savojar star was engraved on the large clay cup Victoria filled and raised. They all lifted their hands to it as if it were the Copa Rushmori, before the captain sprinkled some of the honey wine into the air. She passed cup and amulet on to Joonas Andersson, the team’s eldest. He murmured his wishes to Thor, put his hand into the cup and kissed first his fingers, than the amulet, before passing it on. The utensils made the round. The Christians would just cross themselves and pass on the cup, the Sumani would use their own utensils and pray to their Gods. But they were all united in one, ready for their mission.

---

Outside, in the stadium, the seats were full to the last place. On the stadium balcony, where eventually the Copa would be handed over to the winning team, there were three men. The Presidents of the SFFB and the Astograthian FA, and the President of the Rushmori Confederation. Between them stood an empty table as the PA started to boom. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN; WELCOME TO THE FINAL OF THE 35TH COPA RUSHMORI! PLEASE WELCOME: THE COPA RUSHMORI TROPHY!”, it said over the noise of the people, who now applauded an old, grey-haired man wearing a suit and white gloves, carrying the Copa like his child.

Over the noise of the tournament anthem, the two teams entered the round. Loud cheering and waving flags welcomed the two, led by the determinate but small frame of Victoria Maersk in Savojar blue and the tall, muscular Roxelana Thorn, clad in the orange of the Nepharan away kit. They lined up on the pitch, quiet and serious, all in their own thoughts, as the PA boomed again. “Ladies and gentlemen, brought to you by Gahalatine Sable and Zaza Price, the Battle-Dirge of the Long Marches!”. Polite applause brands through the stadium as the Nepharan flag begins to rise, the first notes of a coarse marching tune booming through the round. The team stands in perfect lines on the pitch, their faces somewhere between pride, nervousness, and calm determination.

“And now, please welcome the First Army Choir of Savojarna, performing the International!”. On the sidelines, thirty-five men and women in uniform started singing, with the entire stadium joining in as the Savojar flag raised above the main stand. Photographers of all corners of Rushmore click to capture the picture, Savojarna’s players raising their left fists high, looking to the flag. The rising, powerful tune seems to lift the faces of the Savojars, and then, loud applause roars and flags are waved around in the stands as the song ends. The Savojars turn, defiling past the Nepharans and shaking their hands.

Some players take some time when passing some of their rivals. A deep unspoken tension lingers between Kurtis Bastable and Polina Zirkova, usually teammates in Eura and now direct opponents on the pitch. Maersk musters Thorn critically at the coin toss, assessing her handshake - firm, determinate. A tense web lies over the stadium, too intense for the fans to chant coherently, instead just blending into a loud, droning noise. The referee flips the coin, and it lands with the blue side up. Victoria, immediately, points to the ground on her side. They will play into the Savojar ultras first, then with the fans in the back for the second half. Tension gets unbearable as the teams line up, Nephara on the ball and Jotansson hulking right at the circle. Then, the referee finally blows the whistle. As if you’d open a bottle, the tension all flows out and becomes a moving thing. A football match.

The 35th Copa Rushmori final has begun.

[Nephara]

Nephara 3 - 3 SWEN (4-3 AET)
(4-4-2) 1 - Mercator; 2 - Stride (18 - Rostock 68'), 22 - Lockheed, 6 - Brosch, 19 - Katarec; 7 - Kuepper (13 - Saroszi 83'), 15 - Kastriot, 21 - Moxham, 11 - Deventer; 10 - Metzger, 14 - Tzorvas (23 - Lovelace 74')
Goals: Moxham 21', Metzger 35', Kuepper 41', Saroszi 97'

Extracts from the Book of Thorn.

Ever have one of those games where your reputation's buttered up without you even being there?
Yeah, Tawny and me were both suspended for the semis. Accumulation of cautions. No way that should've snapped our spine the way it did, though. Locki plays every game for the Stags, Merc for the Heelers. But we fell to fucking pieces at the back against a team which only just got its first win in its third tournament.
Fortunately, even on a bad day we had the goods up front... just about. The guns falling fucking silent in the second half as they clawed 3-1 to 3-2, 3-2 to 3-3... yeah, we were bricking it.
"Right, no messing," I actually heard Strauss mutter as the third went in. Should Hesterine have saved it? Uhm... yeah, no, she should've. She's not having a great tournament. And being on the bench meant Aranea was right there to tell me exactly what went wrong, and exactly what she would've done different...
Anyway, no messing meant Monako warmed up and came on. Not that Marica had been any slouch. Like, fuck, she'd had the guts to take a free kick off Moxi and vindicated it by slamming it into the top corner. But when you get down to it, you want Monako on when things get serious.
Fortunately, we eased back ahead in extra time. Well, okay, nothing about it was 'easing'. Kastriot set the tone with a couple crunching tackles, mulching Elder with a lot of shoulder and a bit of ankle-tap, putting a bit of stick about. Go in concussive, relentless. Trust there to be space. And it wasn't long before Moxi got Monako the ball, they saw a scattered, exhausted defence, strolled to the corner of the area and clipped a cheeky little shot just, just over the flailing keeper.
The one moment of beauty in a sea of ugly. They'd like it if I put it like that.

There's no singing tonight. If Kurtis had got his fucking tambura out without even having played I'd have beaten him to death with it.

[A slightly angry sketch of SWEN manager Umberto Tipoli as an exaggeratedly ancient man with a massive flowing beard occupies the margins here, with three tiny sketches of his assistants poking up over his head.]

People are always surprised when you're like, 'yeah, I don't really watch football'. But I don't. I always want to be out there, and the worst part is I get to be a fucking insufferable expert all the time like 'yeah I woulda fixed that'. I'm not gonna be a good pundit, if I go that way. Money's good, but. So, maybe...
Whatever.
Point is I got twitchy watching the lads against SWEN and got even more mad watching nine goals in the other semi. What made it worse was Aristide going 'waheyyy' with like every non-tap-in that went in. You shat the bed in the World Cup, Ari! You haven't earned the fucking right to be happy around me!
And of course it's Savojarna who won out. Savojarna who always play us. Savojarna who always win against us, I guess. That's the narrative I hear, anyway. Apparently they've played us three times and won three times, thanks for keeping the spirits up Rasmus, you cunt. Ah well. I shouldn't complain, at least he's fucking talking at last.
Rovena brightly said she knew this chick, Palina Leopold, from the youth team who was playing there now and could give us the inside track. As if I have literally any fucking clue who that is.
If you wanted a scholar of the game to write this shit, get Marcin to un-retire.

[For all her indifference, there's a somewhat romanticised, starstruck portrait of Polina Zirkova, and a rather less romanticised, starstruck caricature of the tanklike proportions, hedge beard and ogrish posture of Thorvaldsson.]

Fuck the history. Let's go out there and win.

[The word 'win' has been underlined no fewer than four times.]

[Astograth]

GRAND FINAL
at Nationalstadion Carl Gustaf Bjurman, Sjoedrhavn, Savojarna

Savojarna 2–2 Nephara (2–5 AET)

Congratulations to the champions, commiserations and thank you to the runners-up for an excellent hosting job, and thanks to everyone who took part for making this a great Copa Rushmori.