AOCAF XXXIV RP Thread

[Nellietopia]

We've been getting questions all week about that man, John McClintock. Is he really from Legalese? Does he really do retcons? Does he really exist? Can we have his phone number? (no)

Well, today, rather than talking about that boisterous 5-4 win over Burchadinger (really, 5-4? what's up with that?), we'll explore the life of John McClintock - your average man.

John starts his day on a bed. It's a comfy one, but it's about half the size it should be, so he wakes up with his feet hovering over the edge. For that reason, he wears a nice pair of wool socks to bed. His covers are about 10 years old, but he takes great care to wash them every other Sunday, using a no-bleach detergent and a warm-water cycle. His alarm clock sounds at 4:30 in the morning, but he continually reaches over and hits the snooze button 10 times before actually getting out of bed. And because the room is about two-thirds the size it really needs to be, he sometimes starts the morning by knocking his head on the ceiling.

"Fuck."

He bends his back over and starts again. He emerged in the bathroom whilst scratching his netherealms and a big yawn. He stares in the mirror and admires that beautiful man standing right there. He brushes his teeth, and maybe once a month, he'll also floss. He really should try flossing more often, as he's got some plaque build-up on the gumline. To compensate, he'll swish some mouthwash. When he runs out of mouthwash, he'll use vodka instead (although he saves his spit for later use). He takes a shower every other day. Otherwise, it's a simple washing of the face with clean Sorthern Spring soap (the new packs come with fresh irradiated scents!). Then, he sits on the toilet and does his business - sometimes, he'll sit for thirty minutes before anything happens.

Once finished with his washroom routines, he heads over the dresser. Inside are the secrets to his fashion success. White t-shirts, clean pants, neatly pressed trousers, and some black clip-on ties. And every t-shirt comes with a little chest pocket for his sunglasses. His pair of shades sit on the top shelf of the dresser with a knit cloth covering it from the dust. Even then, he picks up the shades and blows over the lens to get all of the dust off. Once he gets changed into his daily garb, he heads over to the kitchen.

Sometimes, he forgets that the kitchen ceiling is even lower than his bedroom ceiling.

"EGADS..."

He hits head more frequently in the kitchen. You know, with all his presence and wherewithal, you'd imagine that John would have moved to another house by now. Anyway, he goes to the cupboard to pull out a white porcelain bowl, then over to the pantry to pull out a box of tasty oats, and then over to the refrigerator for some milk and honey (yes, he chills his honey). He turns on the radio to listen to the latest news in Legalese.

"*... and the latest polls suggest that Pedro el Burro is going to... %$#^%&*&*^ ... Mary Scott Jane is coming out with her newest parenting book, coaching new parents how to cope with the lack of old licensing laws. She'll tell you just how to have kids, how to raise kids, and then to pay for their... %$#^&^@*!((^ ... after PETA groups surrounded the latest department store to market live skin rat fur. Supporters of the latest fur coat trend say that it's an effective and economic method to eradicate the rat threat, while animal rights activists say that there are more humane ways to rodent infestations. Interestingly, the other PETA organization staged a counter protest by skinning a thousand rats...*"

Evidently, there isn't anything interesting going on today. He then finishes his bowl of tasty oats and then heads outside to get the newspaper. He usually doesn't read the whole thing, but he gets a glimpse of the news of the day to gauge whether he'll have a good day or a bad day.

"New live documentary of the elusive John McClintock?"

He's on to us!

"... whoa, whoa, whoa... they caught me doing what?!?"

He reaches for his retcon device.


Suddenly, this morning never happened.

[Legalese]

Bop it. Twist It. Pull it. Cut it... off.

Matchday Five is cutoff. Scores, Tables, and who advances/who needs the extra matchday are now up.

[The Icemark]

The Kingdom Of The Icemark avoided the wooden spoon and perhaps regained some pride on the final day, but it took a dramatic fightback against New West Guiana to record their first international victory and not return home with their heads lowered in shame.
Their previous four encounters have seen The Icemark fall easily to seeded teams without registering a goal.The stunning comeback victory condemned new West Guiana to bottom place and gave The Icemark 22nd place out of 24 teams that competed.
New West Guiana looked on course to leapfrog The Icemark and condemn them to the wooden spoon after cruising into a deserved two-nil lead before half time. The Icemark were clearly being comprehensively outplayed, but then embarked on an unlikely revival that looked light-years away before half time.
Celeste started the recovery with a fine finish five minutes after the break before Lindenshield levelled from the spot after a controversial penalty had been rewarded. And with only five minutes left Lindenshield reduced the vast majority of the stadium to silence when he headed Theowins free-kick low past the opposing keeper.

[Audioslavia]

Jaffacake Warns of Vilita Threat

That had been the headline. A homage to the very first newswires to come out of Vilita back in the run-up to the World Cup 13 qualifiers. Vilkaous Warns of Vilita Threat. Not notable in itself, but there was something endearing about article. A statement of intent from an unknown newcomer. The fact that Vilita went 3-2-13 in their qualifying group made the headline funnier and funnier as time went on.

A few decades later, however, and no-one was laughing. No one with Audioslavian blood anyway.

Jeremy remembered World Cup 20 like it was yesterday. Vilita had been on a steady rise since their World Cup 13 debut, and came into the tournament as dangerous underdogs - a team you wouldn't want your nation to have to play, but you wouldn't be too happy if you drew their name out of the hat in the office sweepstake. Audioslavia, on the other hand, had been in ranked in the world's top ten for longer than the Vilita had had a football team - thirty-six years at that point - and were coming off the back of a three-year stint as world #1. The defeat in the final of World Cup 19 had left Audioslavia with a point to prove, and they were heavily tipped to reach the final again.

The tournament start inauspiciously enough for both teams. Audioslavia were defeated 2-1 to Lowland Clans in a poor performance and were roundly mocked by rivals in Iansisle and Squornshelous, whilst Vilita threw away a lead against Eauz to take a one-all. The disappointing starts would prove to be the only blemishes on the two rival's record on their course to the final. Goals by Dannes, Ceulemans and Marriot accounted for Liverpool England in matchday two before, on a rain-drenched evening at the Victory Park stadium in Vecchio, Starblaydia, the 'Slaves defeated hotly-tipped Bedistan with two late goals. Vilita, in response to their disappointing opening-day draw, had called upon vaste swathes of its population to flood the streets of Druida, where the 'Villains' - as they were called then - were playing their matches. While the Druidian government were busy sorting out the logistical nightmare of a reported '4 billion' fans (reported in the Vilitan 'media', of course), Vilita took 1-0 and 2-0 wins over Jeruselem and Eagles Nest respectively to comfortably qualify for the knockout stages, where the results between the two sides would begin to bear a striking resemblance to each other.

In the second round, both the 'slaves and the 'villains' recorded two-goal victories, over One Red Dot and Iansisle respectively before, thanks to a strange organizational quirk that was the norm in those days, the quarter-final matchups pitted the two against teams they'd already played in the first round. Audioslavia, again, defeated Bedistan by the skin of their teeth, recording a 1-0 win through an Oran Crevan lob, before Vilita stunned a strong Eauz team with a resounding four-one victory.

Both semi-finals were as dramatic as they come. The ties were mouthwatering enough on paper, with Audiolavia set to play perennial rivals Squornshelous in the Starblaydian semi-final before, in Druida, Vilita took on a Rejistania side that were hotly tipped to make the final, despite their more imperious days being behind them. Vilita's incomprehensibly vast legion of supporters had been a talking point in the lead up to the game, and a small pitch invasion in the first half halted play for ten minutes. Rejistania went into the half-time break with a 2-1 lead and were looking likely to account for Vilita in the same way they had to Turori in the quarter-final. A second-half equaliser from future hall-of-famer Callum Banda would, however, force the game into extra time, and Vilita forced their way through to the final after a nerve-wracking penalty shoot-out.

Audioslavia - Squornshelous matches were traditionally high-scoring affairs, with Squornshelous having won an infamous first encounter 4-0 in the qualifiers for World Cup 5, and had won a previous qualifier by four goals to one. Audioslavia's revenge had come in the guise of a 5-4 win in the World Cup 12 semi-final, and a scinitillating display of attacking football saw Audioslavia win out 5-3 on this occasion, McLlroy and Jansen scoring the deciding goals deep into extra time.

The final itself, Audioslavia versus Vilita for the WC20 championship, would be a dramatic one, even if it wouldn't go down in history as the greatest ever game of football. Audioslavia had made the better start but, after thirty-seven minutes, found themselves having to defend against a free-kick in a dangerous position. Tanner Nerni hit a curling, dipping free-kick over the wall and under the bar for Vilita's opener and, for many Audioslavians, a familiar feeling was sinking in. It didn't help that, at this exact same point in the World Cup 19 final, Audioslavia had conceded a similar free-kick in the same minute and gone on to lose 1-0.

The 'slaves came out firing on all cylinders for the second half. Araxie, Oskari and Crevan started knocking the ball out and opening up the Vilita midfield, and all of a sudden the 'slaves were getting chances again. A through ball from Jussi Oskari found Oliver Dannes, and the striker turned his man beautifully and with a sweet, low drive, smacked the ball past Kater. The world, collectively, stood up to get a better look at the television, and then slumped down and ate more crisps/potatochips as the shot nicked the outside of the post and went out of play. Four minutes on, Jansen whipped a corner into the box, Dannes rose like the proverbial salmon and nodded the ball down for Ceulemans who was arriving on the edge of the area. The centre-half smacked it like you'd expect a six-foot centre-half to smack a football and the world got off its collective ass again. It cringed for a second, but then slumed bac down as Jimmy Kater gets his hands in the way and palms the ball over the bar. Audioslavia wasted the corner, as they did so many other chances during the game. On the seventieth minute mark, Audioslavia's wastefulness in attack was finally matched by their desperation in defence, and a Vilita counter-attack resulted in a penalty. Vilitans and Audioslavians alike scuffled in the penalty area, nervous energy and Audioslavian frustrations reaching boiling point. Banda's penalty was struck hard and true, but James Walsh was equal to it, tipping the ball round for a corner to the relief of the nation. Nerni took the quick corner, Banda won the head and almost accounted for his penalty miss, instead watching the ball bounce off the bar before being cleared by the Audioslavian defence.

Vilita successfully managed to close out most of the rest of the game through the 'attack is the best form of defence' technique, pinning an increasingly desperate, frustrated and tired Audioslavia back in their own half. An Appolloni shot is deflected wide, Banda is again denied with another header, this one being cleared off the line, before Audioslavia launched one last, final counter-attack in an effort to salvage the game.

Jeremy didn't even like to think about what happened.

Ceulemans disposses Banda on the edge of the box with a brilliant sliding tackle and knocks the ball along to Arie Jansen. Jansen's electic pace has not waned over the ninety minutes and he sets off, skinning Nerni and getting the ball up down the left hand side. A square ball sends Oskari through, and its three on three at the Vilita end with every player on both teams struggling to get back. Even Audioslavia's goalie is making his way up the pitch. Oskari plays a one-two with Araxie and, with the return pass, nut-megs Afrikka to let in Jansen again on the left hand side. Jansen's cross is fast and perfectly placed, coming to Dannes like a dart. Dannes however, leaves it and lets the ball run through his legs. It seems like the wrong option with Lamberti right behind him but the Vilita defender can't react quick enough and the ball rebounds off of the inside of his left leg, and falls straight to Jackie McLlroy.

McLlroy steadies himself. He's nine yards away from goal, parallell with the right-hand line of the six-yard box. The goalkeeper is covering the opposite post, and is scrambling to get accross. He's basically on his own. The three defenders have been torn apart by the swift move and the midfielders aren't anywhere near the goal. The ball bounces towards him agonisingly slowly, and all he has to do is direct it into the goal. McLlroy breathes, sets himself up for the easiest goal he'll score in his life, and with a swift movement of his left foot, moves to sweep the ball into the centre of the goal to get the match into extra time. Or maybe not, maybe the 'slaves could get a second injury-time goal and turn the game around completely at the death. Either way, he was going to score. Meeting the ball sweetly, McLlroy swivels and hooks the ball goalwards. Collectively, the entire Vilita side groan whilst the 'slavian side get ready to celebrate like they've never celebrated before....

That sound. That awful sound. That sickening, treble plink of leather on metal. Jackie McLlroy would reveal, later, that he'd known he'd missed it the second the ball touched his boot. Professionals have a sense for this kind of thing, and his was the sense that his left foot had caught the sideways pass too late and, though the ball was initially heading towards the goal, the accidental spin would cause it to take to the air, slow down quicker than it should and curl off to the right, clicking off the outside of the post and out of play.

Jeremy remembered the horrendous, twisted shape that McLlroy pulled in the immediate aftermath of the event; legs shaking, knees giving way only slightly, hands raised to the top of the head and fingers curled, rigid with tension, and McLlroy's face shown in sickening technicolour on the television replays, shaped like an 'O', eyes wide, then shut tight. The brief moment of utter silence, followed by rapturous Vilitan celebration. Shots of claret and green clad fans in the crowd, frowns, scowls, heads in hands, and then; the final whistle, and the sense that all is irrevocably lost.

It was more than a lifetime ago, it was an aeon in football terms. There was no real measure of revenge to be had here. It wasn't any of the same players, or managers or fans, it wasn't even the same countries taking part. The Audioslavia of the 1994 final defeat were the proud, industrial, isolationist nation with a population of upwards of ten billion, whereas modern Audioslavia amounted to a vast, inhospitable, irradiated desert with just four population centres, all with less than 100,000 people each. The death of the mainland had forced relocation overseas. Cedrus Soundgardia F.C. had been formed in the Starblaydian leagues, a team for Audioslavian refugees, while modern Audioslavia had branched out to reclaim Silexhera - a nation that had sprung up on Audioslavia's coast, and the small Kjeligsted island in Atlantian Oceania. The Vilita team they were playing weren't even, strictly speaking, Vilita, but an amalgamation of Vilita and Turori, both long since absent from the wider international game but steady participants in the AOCAF.

The Vilita-Turori Eel-Cat-Things against the Bulls of Post-Apocalyptic Audioslavia. An honorable match-up between two proud teams..

..

..nah, f*** it. Tanner Nerni must Die

[Legalese]

Cutoff for MD6 - Results Incoming and now up!

[Audioslavia]

Goals pay the rent for the home of a striker, and Marc Vauvenargues had felt the breath of his landlord on the back of his neck. Of the five goals Audioslavia had scored in their opening four games, attacking midfielder Weverton Sporadic had scored three, Calaexa Jeroen had scored one and Dave Pegg had grabbed the other during his one, short ten minute spell on the field. Vauvenargues, goal-less in four games, was beginning to feel uneasy.

For the most part, his worries were unjustified. Every single one of Weverton Sporadic's three goals had been set up by Vauvenargues hard work and ceaseless running, and manager Kelly Sporadic - father of Weverton and hero of Silexhera's short-lived national team forty years earlier - had shown no signs of losing faith with the striker, even commending him on his selflessness in setting up Weverton's goals.

It was the similarity of those assists that was troubling Marc. Every one of them had been through his lack of confidence, lack of control of the ball at a vital point at a vital time. The first assist, creating the only goal in the shock upset of Cafundeu, had been through Marc getting the ball caught up under his feet while in a prime shooting position and having to dig out a timid square ball for Weverton to tap in. Assists two and three, the second and third strikes in the 3-0 defeat of 95X, had also been from possible scoring positions, the striker's first touch letting him down on the first occasion, and his running into trouble on the third occasion. He needed a goal. Goals raise confidence. Goals give a striker worth. Goals pay the rent.

It was hard to see where today's strike would come. Dorian and Sonya were former world champions and were unlucky not to make the quarter-finals of World Cup 58, which had finished the previous year. Audioslavia's defensive, counter-attacking tactics - which had torn 95X apart just four days previously - were proving as ineffective as they were during the 2-0 defeat to Andossa Se Mitrin Vega. With seventy minutes on the clock, Marc's energy reserves were depleting, and he was finding it even harder to get the better of a resolutely solid Dorian and Sonya back four that had given him precisely no breaks over the course of the game.

Audioslavia had troubled the D&S goalkeeper on only three occasions. The first a long range, slightly mis-hit, slightly off-target grass-cutter from Torsten Ibsen, pouncing on a weak clearance from an otherwise tame Calaexa Jeroen cross; the second came after a piece of sublime skill by golden-boy Weverton, wriggling away from a maker, receiving a pass from Janssens, skipping past a challenge and thumping a low, left-foot shot that forced the goalie down into an uncomfortable save; the third attempt had been a header from centre-half 'Ted', coming up for a corner and barging two D$S players out of the way to meet the ball, only to see his attempt batted away behind the post by the goalkeeper. Audioslavia had wasted the resulting corner.

Dorian and Sonya had created more chances, including two of real quality. On two occasions they had got behind the Audioslavian defence but had found finishes lacking, the first aimed straight at a relieved goalkeeper's legs, the second an attempt at an audacious chip that cleared the bar by a metre, drawing exhasperated gasps from a crowd that implored the striker to simply stroke the ball into a goal mainly unguarded by an out-of-position Henry Charlestone. Half-chances and long-range efforts had gone begging for the team in pink and, with eighteen minutes to go, now, it was looking like the teams would come away from the match sharing a point.

It probably wouldn't be enough. All it took was three or four of the teams around them to win and Audioslavia would be consigned to ninth place. The seven poitns they'd attained up to that point may have been two more than they'd set their targets for but, with qualification for the knockout phase so attainable, and with their destiny in their own hands in a way that seemed inconceivable before the tournament, for the chance to go begging would be a tragedy for the young team.

Audioslavia had the ball now, in their own half, with Dorian and Sonya pressing high up the field. This had happened on too many occasions; an Audioslavia team not used to playing posession football under pressure would succumb and give away a cheap ball in their own half. It was amazing that, with the exception of the game against ASMV, no team had properly capitalised on this habit. Marc, and most observers, felt that, were the likes of Dorian and Sonya and Cafundeu to field their strongest teams - there was a hint of youth and experimentation about their line-ups - Audioslavia's defensive mistakes would not have gone unpunished.

Calaexa Jeroen received the ball on the wing, under pressure from two markers but, with commendable skill and quick-thinking, managed to play a short pass to Ibsen who, without first controlling the ball, dinks a return pass behind the two defenders and a good ten yards from where Calaexa initially played the ball. Marc hadn't seen Torsten even look up at any point during the move; there was always a sense of nervousness and blind hit-and-hope about Ibsen's play, but this one had seemed to work. Jeroen, upon playing the pass, had spun round the shoulders of a marker and made a move upfield, getting to the half-way line by the time Ibsen's pass had been struck. By chance, he received the ball in his stride and knocked the ball ahead down the wing with the opposition right-back well out of position and struggling to make up the ground. Jeroen looks up and sees Sporadic square and Vauvenargues guilty of ball watching, standing in an offside position a good three feet from the defensive line.

Vauvenargues gets his arse into gear, hopping back into an onside position, and taking another couple of steps back as the D&S defensive line reacted to his movement, trying to catch the young striker offside. The right-sided centre-half has to break ranks to deal with the marauding Jeroen, but the winger plays a short pass to Sporadic before a challenge can be made. Sporadic doesn't stop his stride and immediately plays a ball into the channel on that left wing; the full-back has to turn and Jeroen's momentum and straight-line speed means he's certainly going to reach the pass a good four yards ahead of his marker. He does so, taking a touch to cut inside into the area, entering the box midway between the 18-yard line and the goal-line. Vauvenargues has been keeping himself onside, just, but now sees his chance; one cannot be offside from a backwards pass. Vauvenargues streams into the box, hand raised in expectation of the simple pass that will give him what should be an easy tap-in. The defenders are in hot pursuit but, assuming Jeroen plays the pass now, they'll have no chance. Now, Calaexa.... Now.

He's too late. Vauvenargue's run takes him beyond the winger, who appears to be in two minds, with Sporadic also struggling to get into a receiving position. Vauvenargues thinks as quickly as he can, and stops his run dead, sliding on the grass as his studs carve the turf but, miraculously, staying on his feet. Vauvenargues takes two bounds away from goal, arm waving in the air again. One defender hasn't seen him check his run, but the left full-back has, as have all four of the D&S players bombing back to cover. Jeroen, finally, makes up his mind and, with Sporadic covered by a midfielder, plays a low pass to Vauvenargues. Marc watches the pass arrive, steadying himself, staring the ball down as it approaches and, with one swing of his left foot, digs ball out of the turf and sweeps it into the roof of the net before the charging or recovering defenders can close him down. Vauvenargues's eyes open wide, he hollers a gutteral 'YEAH' and raises a left hand in the air, before showing his disbelief - and a smidgen of paranoia - by turning to face the linesman. The linesman's flag is waving, but strangely, like he's signalled for something, but isn't sure whether he should. Was he in two minds about whether the goalscorer was offside or not? Surely not, the pass had come backwards and, in any case, the goalkeeper and one of the defenders were playing him onside by a good four feet. Vauvenargues turned round, still with his arm raised, but with a confused look on his face, and he searches for the referee. The ref is pointing the spot with the blankest expression he can muster. Vauvenargues's brows furrow. He looks round to see Weverton Sporadic pick himself up off the ground, hazily, clutching the side of his head.

"Wh.. what happened?" asks Vauvenargues, as calmly as he can. The referee ignores him, instead beckoning a D&S midfielder - the one who had been marking Sporadic closely - over to one side. Vauvenargues consults Sporadic, who moves his hand from his head, revealing a trickle of blood.
"I think... I think he hit me" said Sporadic, still not quite recovered.
"But.. but I scored" wailed Vauvenargues, "why didn't he play advantage?"
"Huh?" said Sporadic. There was certainly a look of confusion around most of the stadium with two notable exceptions. The Audioslavian manager was up in arms, jumping and shouting with his hands raised, and who could blame him; he'd just seen his son elbowed in the side of the head in an off-the-ball incident, and seen his side denied a goal as a direct result of it. The other notable exception was the Dorian and Sonya player who's elbow had been swung, his expression instead being one of anger and disgust at the red card raised by the referee.

Sporadic bent down on one knee and clutched his head again. Torsten Ibsen approached the ref and pointed at the stricken forward. The physio was called, Sporadic left the field to the applause of the crowd.

"I'm taking it" came a voice. Ibsen and vauvenargues turned round to see big 'Ted' standing over the penalty spot, ball in hand, ready to stare or shout down any dissenters. Marc sighed. Shit. There was never any arguing with 'Ted'. It was obvious to everyone that, especially with Sporadic off the field, Vauvenargues, the denied goalscorer, should rightfully be allowed to take the penalty, but 'Ted' always got his own way. He was the biggest, the strongest, the craziest, and was in the team after being extradited from a maximum security Taeshani prison. He'd awarded himself the captaincy, and no-one had had the balls to stop him.

Torsten Ibsen, however, was about to try.

Jeremy Jaffacake had approached Torsten the week before, after having watched 'Ted' get himself sent off during the ASMV game. Jeremy had relayed to Torsten a conversation he'd had with a young colleague about a possible tactic for controlling the psychotic Taeshani jailbird and, with Ibsen being the intellectual type, Jeremy had seen fit to give him the 'talk'. According to Jeremy's friend, the way to deal with big 'Ted' was to make him think that his orders were 'his' idea. If you wanted 'Ted' to stay back for a corner, but 'Ted' disagreed, all you had to do was tell him, for example, that an opposition striker had been talking crap about him behind his back, which would allow 'Ted' to 'choose' not to go forward for the attack and instead concentrate his efforts on threatening said striker with a long, painful, bloody death. For the first time, Torsten would have to think on his feet. They couldn't afford 'Ted', who wasn't exactly a crack shot from twelve yards, to take this. Ten minutes left in possibly the biggest game of their lives so far, one goal away from their first ever participation in the knockout stages of a major international tournament; neither Torsten nor Audioslavia could leave anything to chance.

"Well", said Torsten, to himself, "Here goes nothing..."

"'Ted'" he said, as big 'Ted' slammed the ball down on the spot.
"Whu'" sneered the defender, not even looking at Torsten.
"Glad to see you're taking the penalty, Ted. You're sure to score, my man.."
"'Course I am" snarled Ted, giving Torsten the slightest of looks from the corner of his eye.
"Yeah. Brave of you to take it too, what with the headlines you'll make"
"Whudduyer mean?" said 'Ted', more of a threat than a question.
"Oh, you know. Your name'll be in all the papers, from Legalese to Audioslavia, Krytenian, D&S... Taeshan"
"Hrhh" said 'Ted', making the noise one makes when trying to acknowledge something a colleague has said while also performing some basic mental calculations.
"Very brave. Raising your profile on a world scale. It'll be interesting, too, what with the papers making efforts to find out who you are, your surname..."
"Hrhh"
"..possibly former 'working'.... 'partners'..."
"Hrhhrhh"
"I'm sure the people you spent time with during your 'work' on the streets of Taeshan will be fascinated to know where you are, what you're doing... what your full name is..."
"Hrhhrhh...rrhhrhrhh"
"...your wherebouts printed in every newspaper in the world, the time and the place, where exactly you'll be in on the pitch, all season, every season, including big, world-famous contests like this..."
"Hrrhhhhrhhrhhhrhhhhrhhhhrhhhhr"
"Very brave. A different man might have let..." Torsten thought for a moment... "me take the penalty instead"
"Hrrh" said Ted, again, looking at Torsten. He pointed to his captain's armband and then pointed to Marc Vauvenargues, who was lost in a daze of his own self-pity. "You!" said 'Ted'. Marc looked up, startled. "You're takin' it. I've gotta concentrate on... y'know... my duties. Lead the team from the back. Like a general. Y'know." Marc couldn't even muster a reply. The ball was already on the penalty spot, so Marc wearily approached the edge of the area.
"You taking it?" said the referee, impatiently.
"Er, yup" said Marc Vauvenargues.
The referee blew his whistle. Marc didn't have time to be nervous, didn't have time to think about the possible ramifactions of him missing the target, didn't have time to steady himself or look up at the crowd. Without taking a second to stop and think - lest 'Ted' change his mind - he hurtled towards the ball and struck it as hard and true as he could...

Mantzio Janssens tucked in the rebound.

FINAL SCORE
Audioslavia 1 (Janssens, 81)
Dorian and Sonya 0

[Pacitalia]

Football > AOCAF Cup 34
Monday 12th March 2012

Foxes finish top of the table with win over NMS
But the road will only get tougher for Pacitalia in the final eight

Constantin Tiervancu
Legalese City, Legalese


Once the whistle had blown to close out the final preliminary phase match, the collective (and audible) sighs of relief from both the players and the fans said it all. Pacitalia's Blue Foxes came one step closer to erasing the bad memories from AOCAF Cup 33, locking up the top seed through the Championship Phase with a 1-0 victory over New Montreal States Sunday.

After an uncharacteristically horrible performance last time out, in which the Foxes finished in ninth place and, achingly, failed to qualify for the quarterfinals by just a hair and have a shot at a fourth straight title, Pacitalia strides into the knockouts at AOCAF Cup 34 with confidence -- though, by no means will the road to another championship be any easier than the tough slog the Foxes endured through five matches so far.

Michelangelo Mascagnano's sixth-minute lob over John Doe held up as the winner in the Foxes' final preliminary outing. The second half saw a flurry of chances from the Pacitalians but none beat keeper Doe. For New Montreal States, it might have been seen as a disappointing effort, with a total of just two chances at the Pacitalian goal through 90 minutes.

Pacitalian manager Marco van Basten wasn't too keen on a media question about whether or not the Foxes were taking Nellietopia seriously. The Nellies left the pitch following their 2-0 loss to Cafundéu looking visibly deflated.

"I do not agree with that assertion at all," van Basten said during a light training session Monday morning. "I think that's ridiculous. If anything, it will have given them extra motivation to know that, despite the loss in the repechage, they still have a shot at the championship. If you look at the way the preliminary phase finished up, they would have qualified regardless of the result."

"We would have loved to have been in that situation last Cup, had the tournament been organised the same way," he added. "We would be absolutely selling ourselves short if we didn't take the Nellies seriously. It's going to be more a question of whether or not they have the energy to face us for 90 minutes, having played that extra match. It's not a question of whether they have the confidence to face us for 90 minutes."

"But, look, this is a rematch, and less than a week after we met the first time. They're obviously going to relish the opportunity to even the score with us."

The Pacitalian captain refuted claims there was any animosity between the two squads after Є601 bit Demi Santos during the teams' Preliminary Phase meeting. The incident earned Є601 a red card.

"I think [the Federation] just wanted to clarify its position over the incident, not to stoke any fires between us and Nellietopia," Mascagnano said early Monday. "Demi feels fine, and he was fortunate not to have been more injured, but we need to move past it. As a team, our job is put the last match behind us, win, draw or loss, and to play a good 90-plus minutes of football."

Defending champions Cafundéu, who got off to a rather poor start in the preliminary phase, snuck in with that 2-0 repechage victory to earn a last-minute berth in the knockouts. Last cup's runners-up Kagdazka and Pazhujebu and perennial contenders Andossa Se Mitrin Vega joined the Blue Foxes, the Eel-Cats, and Audioslavia, New Montreal States and Nellietopia in the final eight.

The middle four teams in the quarterfinals will all have a decent shot at advancing through to the last four after each posting 3-1-1 records. The big surprise thus far has admittedly been Audioslavia, who were unranked prior to the tournament's start and managed to finish third.

Quarterfinals
(1) Pacitalia (4-1-0) vs. (8) Nellietopia (3-0-2 + RL*)
(2) Andossa Se Mitrin Vega (4-1-0) vs. (7) Cafundéu (3-0-2 + RW*)
(3) Audioslavia (3-1-1) vs. (6) Vilita and Turori (3-1-1)
(4) Kagdazka and Pazhujebu (3-1-1) vs. (5) New Montreal States (3-1-1)

* RW/RD/RL = repechage win/draw/loss

Copyright © 2012 Extra, the Pacitalian sport network
http://www.extra.pc/football/nr.gspx?sd=780461&ad=en

[Andossa Se Mitrin Vega]

The U19 girls Sea Dragon squad has been quite literally brilliant thus far in the AOCAF played in Legalese. A 3-0-0 start was followed by a 90 minute defensive slug fest with the Blue Foxes of Pacitalia that ended even at all nil.

The girls then showed their versatility by shifting gears and blasting seven goals on Nellietopia. The only drawback was that the Nellies scored three of their own. That fact has been readily attributed to several members of the squad having been scared of getting bitten like Demi Santos had been when Pacitalia played them.

So just what does a 4-1-0 record and a +13 goal differential get you in the AOCAF? A date with defending champions Cafundeu, that’s what. There are no easy matches in the greatest and longest running regional tournament in the NS-Verse.

Our girls will have to be ready to play the game of the tournament thus far if we are to continue hopes of holding both the footy and hockey titles at one time. That would indeed be an accomplishment worth bragging about.

[Vilita]

Eel-Cat Things Through to Championship Phase

Vilita & Turori defeat Ipeland 4-1

Ipeland looked to be on their way to the Quarter Finals at the first attempt when they opened the scoring just 5 minutes into their Atlantian Oceania Confederation of Association Football Championships matchday 5 clash with Vilita & Turori. The dream only lasted about 15 minutes however, as Vilita & Turori came storming back to take a 2-1 lead at half time.

The first goal was scored by Vilitan midfielder Aniara Jiurjai, while the go-ahead goal was scored by Vilita's Rexii Tzikas.

Rikko Rawaai and Yoains Konoaafeo were introduced at the half as the Eel-Cat Things continued to attack. on the hour mark, Turorian forward Linai Zakazaka got on the scoresheet to give Vilita & Turori a comfortable advantage.

Within 5 minutes, Vilita & Turori had scored again. Uajiala Pulkki scored from a corner kick putting the game out of reach for Ipeland and allowing the Eel-Cat Things to cruice knowing they had just about done enough to reach the Quarter Final matches at that point.

The Eel Cat things would make one more substitution in the match, Turorian midfielder Cediici Tzatzos entering the match in place of Vilitan goal scorer Aniara Jiurjai.

Vilita & Turori would continue controlling the play through the final whistle and would ultimately be victorious clinching their place in the Quarter Final round avenging an abysmal performance during AOCAF 33 in Kagdazka & Pazhujebu.

Vilita and Turori have returned home following the final matchday while the AOCAF tournament has continued with an additional match to break a tie between Nellietopia, Burchadinger and reigning champions Cafundeu. Cafundeu and Nellietopia have claimed those places leaving Burchadinger outside the Championship Phase.

The Eel Cat things were allowed a few days at their homes before gathering in Turoki City to train and prepare for a return to Legalese for the Championship Phase.

Vilita & Turori's opponents in the Championship Phase, Audioslavia, contain two players formerly of the Turoki Academy, Delain Colgan and Calaexa Jeroen. The duo since moved on to play professionally at Riailia Village on the other end of the Isle of Turoki, but coach Kris Wrice was almost certainly picking Turoki for a reason, trying to get any upper hand possible on the Eel-Cat Things next opposition.

Audioslavia themselves had just squeeked into the Championship Phase with a 1-0 victory over Dorian and Sonya after a 81st minute goal by Sporting Iturributa's Mantzio Janssens.

The Bulls are already pulling up memories of past failures against the Vilita Jungle Cats, most notably Vilita's World Cup 20 success which came at the expense of Audioslavia, who failed at the final stage of the World Cup for the second consecutive attempt.

Jeremy Jaffacake will certainly attempt to use his media connections to drum up some sort of rivalry between the Bulls and the Eel-Cat things by reminding Audioslavians of the defeats the 'Slaves of the past suffered at the hands of the Jungle Cats of the past.

But many will likely be aware that there is very little in common between the present-day Vilita & Turori hybrid of the Eel-Cat Things and the inexperienced Bulls squad representing a Post-Apocalyptic Audioslavia which has additionally found a sporting home on a tiny island in Atlantian Oceania.

In the other Quarter Final matches, the AOCAF specialists of the Pacitalia Blue Foxes who led the Qualifying stage will square off against the 8th seeded Nellietopia side.

Defending champions Cafundeu have only scraped through to the Championship phase where they will face an Andossa Se Mitrin Vega side that have never won the AOCAF title but are certainly looking favored to do so in Legalese, looking to claim two of Atlantian Oceania's sporting crowns at the same time, as they are currently holders of the Atlantian Oceania Hockey Championships title.

In the final matchup, AOCAF 33 hosts and runners-up Kagdazka and Pazhujebu square off against Cup of Harmony 50 hosts New Montreal States.



Vilita & Turori Goalscorers::
22' Aniara Jiurjai
37' Rexii Tzikas
60' Liinai Zakazaka
64' Uajiala Pulkki

Vilita & Turori

Best Player: Kristofer Kilpter
Worst Player: Sipaao Vereaoao
Shots on Target: 8
Corner Kicks: 5

Ipeland
Shots on Target: 2
Corner Kicks: 2


Vilita & Turori Eel Cat Things (3-(1-4)-2) ::
[GK] Aranora Jaded, [D] Sipaao Vereaoao, [D] Miiara Makose, [D] Uajiala Pulkki, [DMC] Tujamu Treola, [ML] Resaie Kentiak, [MC] Jian Lejsrma, [MC] Rexii Tzikas, [MR] Aniara Jiurjai, [FC] Kristofer Kilpter, [FC] Liinai Zakazaka
BENCH::
[FC] Anuh Ciniima, [FC] Erocka Lorei, [M] Cediici Tzatzos, [M] Rikko Rawaii, [U] Ricata Amakra, [D] Yoains Konoaafeo, [GK] Ronji Miiastara

Vilita & Turori Substitutions::
(45) - Sipaao Vereaoao >>> Rikko Rawaii
(45) - Tujamu Treola >>> Yoains Konoaafeo
(69) - Aniara Jiurjai >>> Cediici Tzatzos

(For Future Statistical Reference)
GK :: Aranora Jaded 4

D :: Sipaao Vereaoao 5
D :: Miiara Makose 9
D :: Uajiala Pulkki 8

DMC :: Tujamu Treola 6

ML :: Resaie Kentiak 5
MC :: Jian Lejsrma 8
MC :: Rexii Tzikas 6
MR :: Aniara Jiurjai 7

FC :: Kristofer Kilpter 7
FC :: Liinai Zakazaka 7

Vilita & Turori Subs Bench:
FC :: Anuh Ciniima DNP
FC :: Erocka Lorei DNP
M :: Cediici Tzatzos 6
M :: Rikko Rawaii 7
U :: Ricata Amakra DNP
D :: Yoains Konoaafeo 7
GK :: Ronji Miiastara DNP

[Kagdazka and Pazhujebu]

Maintained by the Occult Studies Department

Anonymous Child Writes Scathing, Borderline-Sociopathic Poem; Alarmingly, Whole Country Agrees

God damn you, Paladins!
My dad says you should be put into trash bins.
My mom says you are an alcoholic, cuz you smell like gin.
My uncle has a double chin.

God damn you, New Montreal States!
Meh meh meh, something about high insurance rates.
Your national team we all hate.
Thanks for knocking us out of the Cup of Harmony, mates.

God damn you, Paladins!
You are now the greatest enemy of the Urchins.
We even hate your stupid blue napkins.
Guess what? In the AOCAF we're gonna win!

We're gonna win!
We're gonna win!
We're gonna win!
Now it's time for din-din!
Hopefully we have tater tots.

[Legalese]

And in case three days wasn't enough, you're out of time. Quarterfinal cutoff!

And now for the scores

[Pacitalia]

Football > AOCAF Cup 34
Saturday 17th March 2012

Pacitalian midfielder Michelangelo Mascagnano
avoids a challenge from Nellietopian back David in the
72nd minute of their AOCAF Cup 34 quarterfinal. (APR)

Foxes down arachnid Nellies to reach last four
But get ready for another rematch; K&P are up next

Constantin Tiervancu
Tyrellia, Legalese


The Blue Foxes once again needed just a single goal for victory, eliminating Nellietopia and advancing to the semifinals of AOCAF Cup 34.

Ambrosino Giurimano netted the Foxes' tally -- his 110th international goal -- just past the 40-minute mark, and Pacitalia held on to beat Nellietopia 1-0 in a rematch of their Preliminary Stage meeting, which also ended in a 1-0 victory for the Foxes.

Pacitalian captain Michelangelo Mascagnano sprung Giurimano with a low, sharp-angled pass, straight on goal. The Foxes striker made no mistake from 10 metres, burying a right-footed zinger past Nellietopian goalkeeper B and into the top-left corner of the net to give Pacitalia the lead.

The Foxes almost replicated that exact play just minutes later in first-half injury time, with Giurimano once again launched forward by a low ball from Andolfabio Vunghiasso. However, that time B was wise to the set-up and punched the ball up and over the bar. The subsequent Pacitalian corner resulted in a wide-right volley from Demi Santos, who earned cheers for almost the whole match as the fans celebrated his full recovery from a bad bite suffered against this very squad one week ago.

Pacitalia came out with equal intensity in the second half, but couldn't convert chances in the 56th, 62nd and 72nd minutes. To the dismay of fans hoping to see more goal-scoring from a Foxes squad that has decided to focus its efforts on defending in this tournament, the men in blue simply could not convert on the many opportunities to nail down the victory.

The Blue Foxes continue to earn excellent play from keeper Ander Bera. The 20-year-old hasn't let in a goal since matchday two. His performance has been, of course, aided by Pacitalia's back six, which has also contributed to the Foxes' endurance through the tournament, especially in tough matches against powerful opponents.

"The new system has been working really well for us," Bera said Friday evening following the victory. "We know that the four attackers up front will continue to push hard on goal, make chances and score goals, but with this new approach, they won't get support from the two retracted midfielders, because they are helping to defend."

"It's really cut down on chances at our goal," back Hermès Adiarche agreed. "I don't think I've played in a tournament for Pacitalia where we have allowed such few attempts to make it through to Ander."

The Foxes will be relying on the same defensive prowess in the semifinal, as they face another rematch, this time against perennial contenders Kagdazka and Pazhujebu, who lost in the final last year to Cafundéu, and are looking to take their tournament efforts one step further in this Cup. Pacitalia won their first meeting, 2-1, in the Preliminary Stage, and the Foxes expect another nail-biting outing between the two sides.

"We have very deep respect for them," Mascagnano remarked during training Saturday afternoon. "They play an exciting and fast style of football and they're hard to contain. But they're gracious opponents and they have a lot of talent."

The captain says this Cup has taught his team a lot about what they're capable of doing and how strong their team is.

"Obviously coming out of last Cup, we felt quite winded, we were totally bewildered by what had happened," he said. "We learned quite quickly not to take anything for granted. I don't think we all did, but it certainly helped keep us from staying realistic. A lot of the players, I think, felt we had a bit of an entitlement to a knockout spot, so not qualifying, especially so narrowly, was a rather big wake-up call."

He says he has never been more proud to play for the Blue Foxes, watching the starting XI gel and fight for every match.

"Sometimes we might have said we weren't taking our opponents lightly, but then we obviously would," Mascagnano noted, adding there were a few occasions in the last few Cups where the Foxes "took [their] feet off the gas pedal and coasted".

"I don't think we ever coasted through matches with our stronger opponents, but I have to say that I don't think we are doing that at all here in Legalese," he said. "We have been playing hard for 90 minutes plus every match we've been in, and the good news is that it's paid off."

The manager is also very pleased with the results so far, especially if it is his last Cup at the helm for the Foxes.

"I would happily trade scoring five goals in a match with another approach if it means we are more confident of victory," said Marco van Basten, the former Scandonian international, and manager during all six of Pacitalia's AOCAF titles. "That's why we decided to try something different this time around, and it's been working for us. We all feel really good about the results."

Across the rest of the tournament, the quarterfinals were a rather predictable affair, as the top four seeds all bounced their opponents. Three of the four quarterfinal matches ended with a 1-0 scoreline; the only one not to was the match between Andossa Se Mitrin Vega and Cafundéu. The Sea Dragons thrashed the Monopolists, 5-2, knocking the defending champions out of the Cup chase. Audioslavia's fairytale tournament continued, with the side rolling over traditional favourites Vilita & Turori to meet ASMV in the semifinals.

Semifinals
(1) Pacitalia vs. (4) Kagdazka and Pazhujebu
(2) Andossa Se Mitrin Vega vs. (3) Audioslavia


Copyright © 2012 Extra, the Pacitalian sport network
http://www.extra.pc/football/nr.gspx?sd=781112&ad=en

[Audioslavia]

Emberton Post

Ancient Bulls on the Charge

By Rubio Sanchez

Krytenia's departure from the Atlantian Oceania region has paved the way for at least one of our old enemies to flourish

A matter of months after Krytenia 'relocated' to Rushmore a rejuvenated Audioslavia, re-entering a number of international stages, acquired land in Atlantian Oceania and declared their 'new' national team elligble for the AOCAF tournament.

Audioslavia's participation in the Baptism of Fire tournament next month will officially signal their re-emergence onto the international football scene, but for now, the nation are testing out their new team with their new regionmates.

They arent doing too badly at all.

The all-new Audioslavia Bulls line up in the same claret and green as they did in their last appearance on the international stage - way back in World Cup 29 where they reached the final for the fourth and final time - but there is a notable difference in the team.

First of all, gone are the flooded midfield and posession, 'pusher' play of the ancient footballing super-powers. In its place is a staunch defensive unit that takes advantage of some speedy wingers and a few names some of our older readers may recognise.

Weverton Sporadic, talismanic attacking midfielder, is the son of former Silexheran hero Kelly, now Audioslavia's manager. Calaexa Jeroen and Delain Colgan are descendents of former Audioslavian national-team players Taurxa and Derry. It was on these players that the spotlight was trained on in their match with Vilita, but more on that later.

Modern Audioslavia started out the 34th AOCAF tournament, their first competitve match for over a century, with a shock 1-0 victory of Cafundeu. A 2-0 defeat to Andossa Se Mitrin Vega followed, and that was supposed to be that for the fledgling team, largely made up of amateur footballers and foreign imports - men with traces of Audioslavian DNA. A commendable draw with Osarius followed, before an emphatic 3-0 win over a strong 95X team put Audioslavia within a win of making the knockout stages of the tournament. Win they did, with another upset, defending resolutely against an out-of-sorts Dorian and Sonya attack before winning out through an 81st minute goal by Astograth-born Mantzio Janssens.

The 3-1-1 record set up a quarter-final matchup with regional powerhouses Vilita in a match billed by some as a 'grudge' match. Vilita and Audioslavia had some 'previous', with Vilita being one of the four teams that denied Audioslavia glory in their third of four World Cup Final matches. It may have been an utterly different Audioslavia team (and a different Vilita team, this outfit being a mixture between Vilitan and Turorian players), but the shirts were similar enough to bring back memories of anyone with access to footage of that World Cup 20 final.

It was a special occasion, too, for Calaexa Jeroen and Delain Colgan. Both men were born in Vilitan lands, both starting players in Vilitan pro-outfit Riallia Village, and both seemed to have mixed feelings about the victory, clapping the Jungle-Cat (or 'Eel-Cat' as this Vilita/Turori mix is called) fans before their exit from the field.

As for the match itself, well, neither team is in their 'heydey', so to speak, and Audioslavia's new brand of dour, defensive football hasn't exactly made for classic games in this tournament. There was, however, a shining moment of brilliance which punctuated the match and turned the tide in a game that Vilita had looked well in control of.

Weverton Sporadic's fourth goal of the campaign proved the turning point in the tie.

A high ball from defence - more to relieve the pressure Vilita were putting on their claret and green rivals - was controlled first time by an advancing Weverton Sporadic, killing the ball's momentum with a deft touch before, with a flick of the ankle, pulling it to the player's left and away from his marker. From there, Sporadic found himself with a path to goal blocked only by the Vilitan central-defence, which was too busy retreating into an optimum defensive position to properly close down the midfielder. Weverton bounded towards goal before, twenty-eight yards out, unleashing a rocket of a grass-cutting shot which barely bounced on its way into the bottom corner.

The goal dented Vilita/Turori's confidence at a vital time, and it took far too long for the team - noticably better for the majority of the game - to get recover. The Eel-Cats managed to hit the post with five minutes to go, but that proved to be their closest opportunity, and the Vilitans departed the tournament with a whimper when, for a short period, they looked capable of reaching the final.

Audioslavia's refound glory has perked up one recognisable member of the claret and green family tree - one Jeremy Jaffacake, infamous journalist from the ancient land, has taken up a role with the F.F.A. and is credited with being the brain-child of the new-look team.

"Just look at the results we've taken" said a jubilant Jeremy after the game, as part of an exclusive interview you'll find on the next page, "six games, four wins and a draw, the scalps of Dorian and Sonya, Vilita, 95X and Cafundeu, there's no reason to suggest Audioslavia can't regain their former brilliance as quickly as we lost it."

Audioslavia will play Andossa se Mitrin Vega in the semi-final - the only team to have defeated them in this campaign. The previous 2-0 win may have been a lop-sided affair in favour of ASMV, but Jaffacake points to one statistic that suggests Audioslavia may well have the edge:

"We've reached eight semi-finals in our history" says the legendary journalist, "World Cups 12, 19, 20 and 29, the fourth Eagles Cup, the JJ Invitational Tournament, the fourth Mike Sarzo Memorial Trophy (as Silexhera) and the first U21 World Cup. We won every single one of them. 8 Semis, 8 finals. If we lose this one, it'll be the first ever."

Jeremy Jaffacake is, of course, more confident than most, who predict a Pacitalia - ASMV final match in this AOCAF tournament.

Either way, the future looks bright for the claret and green, and the world can look forward, maybe, to another memorable chapter in the ancient Krytenia - Audioslavia in the future.

I've been Rubio Sanchez, ta-ta friends.

[Kagdazka and Pazhujebu]

AND SOME THIRST-QUENCHING GUARANÁ MUQUIRANA!

A WEB TV SHOW, ON LOCATION IN LEGALESE!

A jaunty but exceptionally annoying theme song plays, wherein the phrase 'Grilled Brie for 3' is simply sung over and over again, ad infinitum. Following a series of terrible CGI special effects, which display a drawing of the globe slamming into the flag of Kagdazka and Pazhujebu, causing a massive explosion, the camera jerkily pans to the two slightly-irritated-looking hosts of the show, Fušia Oujadda and Peregrina Thašighi. Today they are standing in a small and cozy room. The walls are made of brick, the floor is made of lacquered wood, and the open window, through which a soft wind is blowing, is covered in delicate lavender curtains. The sun is getting visibly low outside over an expansive red-dirt landscape. Peregrina is wearing a simple sweatshirt and jeans, while Fušia is wearing a bizarre pair of lilac-colored silk overalls.

YOUR HOSTS:

<-- Fušia Oujadda
Peregrina Thašighi -->

TODAY'S GUEST:

Natasha Klossovskaya

Peregrina: Are you sure you want to wear that? Cuz I'm, like, pretty sure the camera's rolling.

Fušia: Watch and learn, Peregrina, this is how fashion trends get started.

Peregrina: Or how riots get started.

Fušia: Or shut up and finish grilling that brie.

Peregrina: Remind me why we aren't doing this shoot outside?

Fušia: Because it's windy and I don't want to get dust on these bitchin' overalls.

Peregrina: And you call me the girl in this relationship.

Fušia: Listen, I've been nominated for Most Fashionable Female Footballer at the last two Cafundelense Press Awards and I'm buggered if I'm going to lose to Caitlyn Ballantyne again.

Peregrina: And you think those ridiculous overalls are going to-

Fušia: Hey, so this show is called Grilled Brie for 3...

Peregrina: Ugh, FINE!

Peregrina goes to the window and leans out to tinker with some unseen cooking implement, presumably a grill.

Fušia: Oy, rook, how are those drinks coming?

Out-of-Frame Voice: They're coming! Do I have to follow this recipe accurately?

Fušia: No, you can just improvize. Throw some strychnine in there. How about some cyanide? And maybe a rotting salmon fillet for good measure. Yes, you have to follow it accurately! I told you, this is Peregrina's specialty, but she's making the brie, so you have to make the drinks!

Out-of-Frame Voice: But the recipe calls for tomato juice, rum, and white wine! Will those go together?

Fušia: Yes, just shut up and-

Out-of-Frame Voice: And eights shots of bourbon... in each drink!

Fušia: Yeah, I know how much bourbon is in it. Follow the recipe.

Peregrina While Still Leaning Out the Window: Follow the fucking recipe, rook!

Out-of-Frame Voice: I'm not even a rookie anymor-

Fušia: Anyway, thanks for joining us on Grilled Brie for 3, everyone. I'm your host, Fušia Oujadda.

Pause.

Peregrina While Still Leaning Out the Window: Oh, fuck, is that me?

Pause.

Peregrina While Still Leaning Out the Window: Is that me?

Pause.

Fušia: Take your time.

Peregrina While Still Leaning Out the Window: Is that me, though?!

Fušia and Out-of-Frame Voice: YES!

Peregrina re-enters the room, returning from the window.

Peregrina: And I'm Peregrina Thašighi, your other host...

Fušia: God, this show still sucks so much.

Peregrina: ...thanks for tuning in to our famous web TV show. We've got, like, a shit-ton of brie to eat, some strong-ass drinks to down, and a bunch of stuff to talk about. Not the least of which...

Fušia: No. We're not doing that fucking Goss-

Peregrina: ...is our notorious Gossip Hour!

Fušia: Oh, holy Jesus. How are those drinks coming, Natasha?

The shot expands, revealing one other woman. Tall and wiry, with long blonde hair and big, enthusiastic light brown eyes, she is raiding a minibar with aplomb.

Peregrina: This is Natasha Klossovskaya, everybody.

Natasha: Hi!

Fušia: Super-avid fans of the show will recall that this is actually Natasha's second appearance on Grilled Brie for 3. You joined us a few years ago when you were just a baby in the women's football squad at the last Summer Olympics.

Natasha: True.

Peregrina: And she got to see me push Fušia off a seven-foot drop onto a hard linoleum floor.

Fušia: What was your problem that night?

Peregrina: Oh, you probably called me a whore or something.

Fušia: Yeah, sorry about that, baby.

Peregrina: Sorry I almost ended your football career.

Natasha: Reconciliation at last! Okay, everybody drink, the Peregrina Specials are ready to go!

They all take liberal sips from terrifyingly tall glasses of a suspicious, pale-red concoction. Natasha reacts with horror; the other two are unsurprised.

Natasha: Ugh!

Peregrina: Nice job, rook.

Fušia: Yeah, not bad for a first-time bartender.

Natasha: That stuff is horrible. God, I need to wash it down with something.

Peregrina: One, there's Guaraná Muquirana in the fridge. IT'S DELICIOUS. MMM.

Fušia (muttering to Peregrina surreptitiously): Plug. Nice work, girl. That's, like, twenty grand apiece for you and me.

Peregrina: I know, right? I'm smarter than you think, honey. Two, you're a rookie, suck it up. Three, we ordered some god damn popcorn shrimp, but the ranch staff are, like, late as fuck.

Fušia: I know, what the hell?

Peregrina: Anyway, we actually do have a show to get to...

Fušia: Hey, yeah, we do! Today on Grilled Brie for 3 we're going to talk about the K&P national team and its trip to Legalese for the 34th AOCAF Cup, the recently-concluded 5254 KPFA League season, and the future of this show.

Peregrina: And, also...

Fušia: We're not doing that.

Peregrina: ...yes we are...

Fušia: No we're not.

Peregrina: ...yes we are... also, the Gossip Hour!

Fušia: It's going to last an hour?!

Peregrina: Yup. But we should get to our opening segment first. The AOCAF 34 Cup! The regional football championship for the Atlantian Oceania region!

Fušia: Which we almost won last time out.

Peregrina: Tripped up by those scheming Cafundelenses.

Fušia: Hey, you and I live there, take it easy.

Peregrina: It came out wrong.

Fušia: This edition is taking place in the Calanian nation of Legalese, thus the unusual scenery out the window behind us.

Peregrina: The Urchins are headquartered at a luxury ranch in the rural area of the country known colloquially as Uranium Country... lots of, like, mines for the stuff out here. Big industry in Legalese, I guess. Also, I smell burnt brie. Ladies?

Fušia: Tag. We got this.

Peregrina goes back to the window.

Fušia: So, yeah, Kagdazka and Pazhujebu have done quite well, escaping from the preliminary phase, which was Swiss-style this time. How did you feel about the format, Natasha?

Natasha: I actually like it quite a lot. It can be a little tricky when you can't plan ahead for your next opposition, but in a lot of ways it can be better than a traditional group stage.

Peregrina While Still Leaning Out the Window: Oh, shit!

Fušia: I agree, I like it too.

Peregrina While Still Leaning Out the Window: Jesus Christ on a kabob!

Fušia: So we got out of the initial phase and progressed to the quarterfinals for the fifth tournament in a row.

Peregrina While Still Leaning Out the Window: Oh, it's melted everywhere!

Fušia: In those quarterfinals, we were paired with New Montreal States, our newest but probably our greatest rivals on the world stage.

Peregrina While Still Leaning Out the Window: Yup, it's burned.

Natasha: I heard somebody refer to it as the "RL Minnesotan Derby," but I didn't know what the hell they were talking about.

Peregrina While Still Leaning Out the Window: It's all burned. All of it.

Fušia: Just throw the lid on it to put out the fire and give up on it, Peregrina! Yeah, that doesn't make any sense, Natasha. But whatever you want to call the rivalry, it sure has become a tense one. We fought with one another in the World Cup 58 qualifiers and just barely finished ahead of them by a hair, and then they got their revenge on us on home soil during the Cup of Harmony.

Peregrina returns from the window again.

Peregrina: I told you we should have just gone outside.

Fušia: And I told you these silk overalls set me back like six grand! I'm not going outside and getting yellowcake uranium on them!

Peregrina: I think that's just yellowish dirt-

Fušia: Whatever. So anyway, another chapter in the NMS-K&P rivalry was written just recently when we beat them to assure ourselves of a return to the semifinals. Natasha, do you think we have a chance in hell of beating Pacitalia?

Natasha shivers as she takes another sip of her horrifying beverage. Meanwhile, Peregrina sits back down with the other two women.

Natasha: Well... that's a tough one. The Pacitalians had won three straight titles before they shockingly failed to escape the group stage at the last tournament. As such, it'll be difficult for us to get past them, since you could argue they have a chip on their shoulder. Plus they're just a brilliant team... I'd say the best in the field. Technically speaking, at least.

Peregrina: But if we can beat them, surely we're favorites in the final?

Natasha: Yeah, maybe.

Fušia: Given the relative weakness of the sides in the other semifinal, it's definitely going to be a semifinal that feels like a final. Okay, moving on to the next topic! Peregrina, Vulkan tripped up again in the league! What's the deal?

Peregrina: Well, the deal is, Kagdazka and Pazhujebu has never seen two teams monopolize the competition as much as FKM and Gimnasia have right now, and as a result, no matter how good my team is, it feels kinda like we might never get there. But we have to keep trying. After all, third place is nothing to cry about.

Fušia: No, it's not. But it's not quite as good as first place. Natasha? You're a champion again. How do you feel about it?

Natasha: Great.

Peregrina: She said with the widest grin I've ever seen.

Natasha: Ha ha, yeah. I'm chuffed to bits, you know? There's something special about the organization that sets it apart. FKM are a wonderful, wonderful club, and I've been so lucky to have participated in this great era for the team.

Fušia: Champions in three out of the last four years. But you blew it in the Vahavi. Again. FKM still can't seem to get their hands on that cup trophy.

Natasha: Funny, right? We've won the UICA Champions' Cup, but we can't seem to claim the domestic cup in our own nation. But, you know, I personally am not too upset about it. I think we had the better chances in the final against Raktaghav Hathi, but we were coming up against them when their goalkeeper was really, REALLY in form, so it was just tough timing.

Fušia: Cool. Now for the interesting part of the show.

Peregrina: So, here's the deal, folks.

Fušia: Peregrina here has actually been cut from the national team.

Peregrina: Sad face. No more Urchins for me.

Fušia: As my spouse, she still has permission to come along for these tournaments if she likes, but she's only come along because the domestic season is over in the Federation. In the future, she might not be available to co-host Grilled Brie for 3 with me if she's on the road. So, unbeknownst to her, Natasha here is auditioning for the role of new co-host.

Natasha: Wait, what?

Peregrina: You're going to have to learn how to hold your liquor, I'll just say that.

Natasha: But what if you make it back into the team?

Peregrina: Then who knows? Maybe I'll drop by the show once or twice, or maybe we can turn it into Grilled Brie for 4.

Natasha: But that doesn't rhyme!

Both Fušia and Peregrina start laughing uproariously at this. Fušia is doubled over; Peregrina actually falls off her chair, she's guffawing so hard.

Fušia: Does... it... look... like... this show... can get... ANY worse?! HAHAHA!!!

Peregrina: Thanks... ha ha... thanks... HAHAHA!!!

Fušia: Thanks... for watching... Grilled Brie... ha ha... HAHAHA... for 3!

[Andossa Se Mitrin Vega]

Following a dominating match against defending AOCAF Champions Cafundeu, not a single member of the U19 girl’s Sea Dragon squad could be found on the practice pitch preparing for the semi-final match against returning shockers Audioslavia. In fact finding the girls would prove difficult to anyone normally associated with ASMV international football. The girls were spending the day shopping for shoes, purses, and yes the dresses that they would be wearing to their respective proms upon returning home.

The same girls who have proven tot the rest of the region that they do belong on this stage with bone-crushing hits, deft tackles, and nifty ball movement from all positions on the pitch, their newly found penchant for scoring goals also in the mix, are today simply being girls and enjoying themselves immensely while doing so.

For the chaperones, there was a rainbow flurry of colors as each girl seemed to spin in and out of the latest styles. Blues and greens accompanied by yellows and purples and of course black and silver. Even the occasional pink dress made an appearance even though none of the girls would admit to being “girly” enough for that color. Short dresses followed floor length ones while form-fitting followed “poofy”. Sleeveless and low backed accompanied low-front and off the shoulder designs. 15 high school girls with nothing better to do than to try on dresses, debate shoes, have their nails done, and debate the latest hair styles. Let Audioslavia keep up with them today.

When asked about the upcoming match, star forward Jaqinze Irin’arbor simply held up an emerald colored shoe and said “This is a six inch spike. If I hear another question about football today you will get to see firsthand how it feels to be stabbed with it.”

We shall just let them shop. Easier that way.

[Audioslavia]

Jeremy Jaffacake surveyed the stadium, a beautiful, enormous behemoth more than twice as large as the Tiberian grounds his team had played in during the preliminary stages.

It felt good to be back.

Not that he'd ever been to Okerson before, of course, but simply that this appeared to be the big stage again. The semi-finals of a major tournament, a huge stadium, evening setting in, and Audioslavia about to trot onto the field to play one of the world's finest.

He tried to put it out of his head that the Andossa Se Mitrin Vega side they were due to face weren't exactly their best eleven. "Under 19 Girls" was the suffix. Jeremy reckoned a fair few of the ASMV players looked 25 at least, but it was no matter. The team ASMV had put out were rolling over pretty much everyone. Nellietopia, like Audioslavia, were unranked, plucky underdogs, but ASMV had butchered them 7-3. Cafundeu, the team Audioslavia had gallantly defeated in a shock-victory, had fallen 5-2 to the ASMV team. Armed Beers had been scunnered 5-1, Ipeland 3-0 and, of course, Audioslavia had struggled to a 2-0 defeat to the Sea Dragons in game two. A 0-0 draw with Pacitalia had been the only blemish on their record, and even then, both Pacitalia and ASMV had finished joint-top of the group.

One encouraging thing was the crowd. Audioslavian fans made up a good 1/6th of the stadium. Their numbers were dwarfed, of course, by the Sea Dragon faithful, and the majority of spectators were neutrals, but the 10k Audioslavians in attendance was more than had watched the Bulls play in their previous six AOCAF encounters put together. The Audioslavia national football team had, once again, captured the imagination of the nation. Amateur football clubs were springing up all over Cathair, Sierrha Herrdaura and the new island of Kjeligsted, and Silexheran teams had started re-appearing on the radar too. There was even talk of a national Audioslavian/Silexheran league being formed, but that was a long way off yet - one small problem was that the roads connecting these places were highly dangerous; irradiated, barren deserts. Still, football at a local level was encouraging. Perhaps, by the time the World Cup qualifiers came around next year, the Bulls could actually have some home-grown players to choose from.

The players took to the field, the crowd began to roar and chant, fired up in expectation of a thrilling encounter. The cards were stacked in the skilfull ASMV team's favour, but Audioslavia had two things going for them, at least. Number one, Audioslavia had the second best defence in the tournament, conceding only three goals in six games, although scoring just seven. Two, Audioslavia had never, ever, in their history, lost a semi-final. 8 semis, 8 wins was the statistic.

But then, there were statistics, damned statistics, and sports statistics. The game would be decided on more palpable, important things.

[Legalese]

And the Semifinal Results are now available.

[Pacitalia]

Football > AOCAF Cup 34
Monday 19th March 2012

Fans take in semifinal action between Pacitalia and
Kagdazka & Pazhujebu at Wilson Gulch in Sagdineo. (APR)

One step closer
Foxes aim for redemption and all-time titles record

Constantin Tiervancu
Sagdineo, Legalese


Make it three in a row.

Demi Santos heroically found twine with 11 minutes to play, and Pacitalia's Blue Foxes punched their ticket to the AOCAF Cup final for the eighth time in the tournament's history with a stunning defeat of Kagdazka and Pazhujebu.

It was the third straight match where Pacitalia came away with a 1-0 victory. Ander Bera, chosen as man of the match, was once again sensational in net for the Blue Foxes. The 20-year-old was a constant source of frustration for 90 minutes and posted his fifth clean sheet of the tournament in blocking all eight shots on target he faced.

"I was simply trying to do my bit to win," Bera said post-match. "I know how badly everyone on this team wanted to get back to the final, but we can't do that without keeping the ball out of our net."

Bera also relied on stellar contributions from the Pacitalian defence, who came up with big sacrifices on several set pieces to dry up the Kagdaz-Pazhujebi attack. Nicolás Sema took a Eduard Winogradsky free kick off the side of his head in the 60th minute and had to be substituted for Daniele Mamò.

Then, Diego Tomás Cruz ended up with a high ankle sprain following a challenge on familiar foe Aqhorassia Bhara. The tackle sprung the ball free to Andolfabio Vunghiasso but cost the Blue Foxes Cruz's services for the rest of the match; he, too, was subbed out at the next whistle for Cadi Herrera.

Both players are expected to be healthy and ready for the final; in fact, manager Marco van Basten remarked post-match that he was, indeed, surprised that Sema had not suffered a concussion on the play. Doctors have cleared both players to start on Tuesday in the championship.

Pacitalia will now meet Audioslavia in the deciding match, and neither team is too familiar to the other. In fact, neither country is too familiar to the other, let alone in sport.

It will be unfamiliar territory for both sides, but perhaps even moreso for the bewildering Bulls, who continued their storybook run at AOCAF Cup 34 with a thrilling 1-0 upset of Andossa Se Mitrin Vega's Sea Dragons, a team most tournament watchers previously thought invincible (and final-bound).

"We are very excited to play [Audioslavia in the final]," van Basten said. "Our team has still been quite focused, but they are definitely curious to see what will happen. It's an interesting place to meet a team for the first time, that's for sure."

To prepare, the Pacitalian boss has been putting his men through hours and hours of videotape and intensive training, with the specific intent of learning the patterns and tactics of the Audioslavian starting XI.

For Audioslavia, it's a perfect end to an unlikely run in their initiation at the regional football championship. For Pacitalia, it's an incredible opportunity to win their seventh title — in so doing, surpassing Starblaydia, who had the most for ten straight Cups — and one they don't intend to waste.

"We definitely want this," van Basten said during his training. "I can tell just by looking at these guys. They can taste it."

"This team learned not to take anything for granted last time," he said. "They know we can't lose this chance. We might not get another one."


Third-place playoff
(2) Andossa Se Mitrin Vega vs. (4) Kagdazka and Pazhujebu

Championship
(1) Pacitalia vs. (3) Audioslavia


Copyright © 2012 Extra, the Pacitalian sport network
http://www.extra.pc/football/nr.gspx?sd=781369&ad=en

[Audioslavia]

Jeremy Jaffacake stands with his hands on his hips, legs apart, staring down the ball that sits, invitingly, on the penalty spot. He inhales deeply. His eyes roll up to give the Rejistanian goalkeeper a look of sheer contempt. He holds the breath for a second before exhaling, puffing his cheeks out as he does so. The peep of a whistle - the referee's - signalls that, in his own time, he can take the kick. He eyeballs the Rejistanian 'keeper again, notices him trembling on the goal-line. Score this, he thinks to himself, and the cup is ours. He closes his eyes, imagines his hands on the trophy, imagines the ticker-tape parade, the open top bus proclaiming Audioslavia as official Champions of World Cup 12. Opening his eyes and breathing in, he starts his arced run-up to the ball and, with a swing of his mighty, muscular leg and a thump of leather on leather, propells it at a hearty velocity towards the corner of the...

"Hey look at this!" Rubio exclaims. Jeremy snorts and opens his eyes to see, a full centimetre away from his face, the armpit of the young Krytenian journalist. "Look, if I press this button, we get air! It's like... it's like our personal air conditioning unit! Only smaller. Much much smaller."
He continued to play with the small circular vent above their heads. "And if you move it around like this you can direct the air in any direction! If I move it here... it blows on me, but I can make it blow on you too! In fact, I can open all three of them... like so... and point them all at you and voila!{/i] Like a windy day in Everton! Only without the smell!"
Jeremy grunted and lazily lifted an arm up, tugging on Rubio's sleeve in an effort to make him lower his arm out of Jeremy's face. Rubio relented and watched as Jeremy unpeeled his cheek from the airplane seat and wiping away a strand of drool as he did so.
"I can't believe" said Jeremy, closing his eyes and squeezing either side of the bridge of his nose, "that you've got to twenty-two years old without ever flying on a plane"
"Well, y'know, I'm always working and the family never had holidays when I was a kid and the train service in Atlantian Oceania is so good and what does this button do?"
"Don't press tha..." Jeremy said, interrupted as his chair sprang forward, flinging the Audioslavian reporter into the folo-out tea-tray in front of him which was, handily enough, open at such an angle to make Jeremy's head bounce off the corner.
"AUGH!" cried Jeremy, Rubio didn't take the slightest bit of notice, instead taking the opportunity to fold his own tea-tray up, and down, and up, and down.
"Cool!"

Jeremy Jaffacake stands next to the goalpost, awaiting Crystilakere's free-kick. He looks up at the scoreboard: Still 0-0. 37th minute. He had to make sure, as Audioslavia's star defender, that this free-kick doesn't make it over the line, in the event that it doesn't hit the wall or his goalie can't reach it. Tha Crystilakeran takes his run-up. Jeremy wipes his nose on his captain's armband and waits. The ball curls over the wall, at speed, and is headed for the top-corner of the goal, just above Jeremy's head. Jeremy sees the danger, leaps, sees the ball arc towards his head, closes his eyes, waits for the impact. The ball rebounds off his temple once, twice, three times... and again...

Rubio was tapping him on his head as came-to.
"Augh" utters Jeremy, rubbing his eyebrow. "Why does my eye hurt?"
"Dunno" says Rubio, "but I think you fell asleep just now"
"It would appear so"
"And so I thought I'd wake you"
"Right"
"I know you probably don't want to miss the flight"
"Right. But I'm [i]on the flight"
"Yes but I thought you might want to look out the window at all the buildings, the views..."
"Right"
"Because, y'know, you're sat next to the window"
"Yes. Right"
"So, you know.. you can take advantage of the view. That's why you sat next to the window. If you did not want to watch the beautiful scenery as it passed by you would have sat in the aisle"
"Right"
"...where I'm sitting"
"Right. Rubio..."
"Yes?"
"Do you, by any chance, want to swap places?"
Rubio beamed into a smile, before settling back down again
"Are... are you sure? Because if you're just being polite I wouldn't want to..."
"Just get up"
The smile returned. Rubio stood up and let Jeremy out, before jumping into his vacated seat and pressing his face up against the window.
"I... I think I can see my house! Jeremy, look, over there, in the distance..."
"That isn't your house"
"How do you know?"
"Three reasons..."
"...yes"
"One: Krytenia is situated to the east, behind us. You'd have to be looking out of the back of the plane to see it."
"Oh"
"Two: Even if Krytenia was in the direction of the window you're looking through, the curvature of the earth and the distance from Krytenia to our current location would mean that, without a powerful orbital telescope and a gravitational pull strong enough to curve the path of the photons bouncing from the sun, to your house, to this plane, it would be impossible to see Krytenia, let alone your house."
"Oh"
"Three: Even if Krytenia was close enough, Rubio, even if your house just happened to be near the flight path of this aircraft, Rubio, you'd still probably have to wait until the plane takes off"
"Oh"
"So..." started Jeremy, unpeturbed by the disappointed look on his colleague's face, "when the plane finally takes off, and levels out at cruising speed, I shall be asleep. There will, however, be an attractive young lady walking past with a trolley, asking the passengers if they would like refreshments..." Jeremy closed his eyes, getting ready to fall back asleep. Rubio's eyes opened wide at the idea of a beautiful woman bearing beverages. "...in that eventuality, I'd like you to order me a whisky for when I wake up."
"OK Jeremy, no problem" said Rubio
"On the rocks"
"OK"
"With ice"
"OK"
"With an.... with an umbrlll...."
"O..K.."
"aand..."
"and...?" Rubio poked at Jeremy, but the old man was already asleep.

Jeremy was standing in the defensive wall. The Vilitan lined up to take the free-kick. 37th minute. Final of World Cup 20. If Jeremy could jump high enough... anticipate the flight of the ball.. maybe he could get his head in the way. This Vilitan was a dab-hand with set-pieces. Jeremy just needed a giant leap and, maybe, a bit of luck, to save Audioslavia from going a goal behind. Maybe.. this time... Audioslavia could be World Champions. Aaron O'Hara, Jeremy's partner in the defensive wall, puts his arm round him and says...

"Whisky's here" said Rubio
"Wuh" said Jeremy, still half asleep
"I said your whisky is here. It's on your tea tray"
"Whu? Oh... Thunks" murmered Jeremy, turning to face away his co-traveller. After a second or two, Jeremy gave up, sat up, looked at the whisky.
"Thanks" he said. Rubio smiled.
"Shhh"
"What do you mean 'shhh'? Don't 'shhh' me, don't ever 'shhh' a journalist, Rubio"
"Shhhh!", Rubio repeated, "I think I may have just gotten us a freebie!"
"What on earth do you mean?" said Jeremy, taking the whisky in his left hand and giving it a smell. It smelled rather good.
"The whisky" hissed Rubio, into Jeremy's ear. "The lady forgot to charge us for it. Don't make a fuss about it! If she doesn't realise she's given it to us for free then we may save a few bucks!"
"Rubio..."
"Shh, here she comes.. she's coming back down the aisle..."
"Rubio..."
"Pretend we're having a conversation!"
"Rubio..."
"SO! JEREMY! HOW BOUT THEM BULLS! BOY WAS THAT SEMI-FINAL SOMETHING!" said Rubio, enunciating every single word deliberately and a little too loudly. The volume made Jeremy wince. Rubio opened his eyes wide and looked towards Jeremy, nodding expectantly with a scary, fixed smile, beckoning him to continue the 'conversation'. Jeremy just took his own right hand and rubbed it firmly accross the right side of his own face, pushing and pulling at the saggy, furry jowels of his 55-year old face.
"It's all free. It's free for everyone. It's part of the price you paid on your ticket" said Jeremy, sighing. He took another gulp of his whisky and slouched back down in his seat, turning away from Rubio again and closing his eyes.

A few seconds passed.

He opened them again. Turned round to face Rubio.

Rubio was wearing the expression of a man who'd found out his lottery numbers had not only won him the jackpot, but formed the code to the combination lock on a briefcase containing an amorous Kiera Knightly and a double-chocolate cheesecake.

Jeremy turned back and fell asleep as quickly as possible.

Jeremy Jaffacake sprinted down the left wing knowing that, any second now, Audioslavia's midfielder would play a diagonal ball behind the defence. If he was fast enough, he'd be able to latch onto it, open his body out and side-foot it into the opposite corner, the momentum of the ball and the natural spin put onto it by the shot giving him a good chance of getting the ball past the Casari goalkeeper and inside the near post. With the scores deadlocked at 1-1, this may be Audioslavia's last chance to score. Casari had had the upper hand for the last half an hour and, even with just five minutes left, seemed almost destined to score, to take the lead, and to take the World Cup 29 trophy. Jeremy pushed the thought of Audioslavia coming in second for the fourth time out of his head. The pass he had anticipated came through. The defender missed it, the ball lost speed, seemed to stop right in front of him, so invitingly, sixteen yards from goal, time and space to pick his spot. He opens his body towards the ball, swings a leg, catches the ball by its trailing curve, sends it spinning, past the goalkeeper, towards the post, but spinning, curling, curving, a *click* of leather on steel...

"Sir?" came a voice
"Fuck off Rubio, not now" came Jeremy's reply.
"Oh... I'm very sorry sir, only we're landing in Legalese City very shortly..."
Jeremy opened his eyes to see a stewardess looking at him with a degree of concern. Jeremy sat up and apologised as profusely as he could. The stewardess, obviously used to the vagaries of utterances by the recently-woken, didn't seem to mind.
"Would you mind waking your friend up too, sir?" said the stewardess
"Wuh?" said Jeremy, still half asleep. He looked to his left, spent two seconds looking at the young Krytenian in stunned silence, and sighed.
"Yes, yes of course"
"Will he be OK?"
"He'll be fine. Thankyou"
Jeremy observed his colleague. The sleeping Rubio was still holding a small glass of whisky, most of the contents having been poured over his trousers whilst sleeping. In front of him were three bottles of burung brew and three non-descript plastic glasses that may or may not have previously contained whisky. Jeremy was sure that he'd only gotten as far as drinking half of his own snifter of scotch, but that was gone in its entirety too.

Rubio opened his eyes and surveyed the scene. Six bottles of beer, six empty cups, two Jeremy Jaffacakes.
"I'm seeing double...." said the Krytenian, hazily, "...four krusties...", before leaning back in his char and squeezing his eyes shut.
"You took advantage of the free booze then, Rubio?" asked Jeremy. Rubio just smiled.
"I saw my house!" he said in reply
"Of course you did. Now put your seatbelt on and your tray up, we're landing in twenty minutes"
"Piss"
"What?"
"Piss. Now. Or else; trouble"
Jeremy sighed and stood up.
"Quickly then, before the stewardess comes back"
Rubio crawled across the seats and, having to hold onto every armrest - and the odd head - on the way, made his way to the plane's toilet.

--

The baggage carousel. Jeremy and Rubio patiently waited for their luggage to spin round on the conveyor belt. Rubio had sobered up almost entirely, partly due to his young, energetic immune system, but mainly thanks to a slightly dodgy, turbulence-filled landing that had made both journos glad that Rubio had made that quick dash to the toilet beforehand. That particular crisis averted, the change of location had put Rubio's mind on the game. two days after Audioslavia had shocked the region with an unlikely - really rather flukey - win over ASMV, the nation were about to take part in their first Regional Final. The two of them had drank a heroic amount of whisky that night, after the game. Jeremy in high spirits, filling Rubio in on the good ol' days of Audioslavian football, Rubio in buoyant mood, waxing lyrical about his rise to prominence at the Emberton Post and the circumstances surrounding the presence of such a young chap doing one of the more prestigious jobs a sports journalist can do.

For the two hacks, it would be the second time they would experience an occasion like this together, with one of the duo's nation in the final and the others' not even competing. The two had met during World Cup 58, last year, being forced together by their editor, back in the days when Rubio's youth and Jeremy's reputation had ensured they were kept on a short leash. They'd bonded over a few shared ambitions and ideals, but there was clearly more that seperated the two men than brought them together. Their relationship was a strange oneindeed. Was Jeremy the mentor, Rubio the student? Was Jeremy a father-figure, a friend, a colleague? Some had even called their relationship 'more than a little homo-erotic'. Piffle, of course, but possibly based on a moment during that World Cup 58 final. Aguazul nil, Krytenia nil, full-time. Aguazul nil, Krytenia nil, after extra time. Penalties. The most sickening way to exit from a tournament. Jeremy knew. He'd seen Audioslavia go down on 'kicks from the penalty mark' in the final of World Cup 12, as a younger man, and knew about the long-lasting effects the disappointment could have. Rubio had been painfully green and naive up to that match, but had seemed to grow that scaly, extra skin the morning after the game - a good thing. One couldn't afford to have thin skin in this job.

Rubio hadn't been in tears after that WC 58 final - though god knows plenty of other Krytenians had been - instead sitting in the pub with a glass of strong beer, staring into space, impossible to get a conversation out of, thoughtful, thinking aloud about the fine line between winning and losing, living and dying, scoring and missing. He knew he didn't deserve to feel as shit as he'd felt then, but he also knew he didn't exactly deserve to be bouncing all over Andossa like the Aguazul fans were. No middle ground. You couldn't draw a final, it was all of nothing. All or nothing. A cliche. You pretend to understand its meaning but, if you actually did, you'd turn grey at the thought...

"That'd be a cheaper method of travelling" said Rubio, who was making a habit of breaking Jeremy's train of thought with off-hand observations or questions.
"What would?" asked Jeremy.
"The conveyor belt" said Rubio. Jeremy's brow furrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it travels about the same speed as the plane, doesn't it? Maybe a bit slower.." Jeremy's brow remaiend furrowed. He waited for Rubio to get to his point. "I mean, we put our luggage on the conveyor belt in Tiberia two hours ago, boarded the plane one hour ago, touched down twenty minutes ago and now we're waiting for the luggage to arrive. The conveyor belt must be travelling at about half the speed of the plane."
Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut and did some calculations of his own. [

i]So...[/i] began his brain, ...Rubio had never been on a plane before meaning... meaning he hadn't ever used an international baggage carousel before. We can deduce that much. So, we go to an airport for the first time in his life and we put our luggage on the conveyor belt.. and watched them go through the wee flaps. We get on the plane, come here, touch down, and see that the luggage is coming through the conveyor belt here. So, we can deduce that Rubio thinks it's the same sodding conveyor belt...

It baffled Jeremy that someone capable of writing as eloquently as Rubio, who had a good degree from a decent university, with whom he'd spoken to so often about intricacies not only of writing and journalism, but also of the world in general, and whom he'd generally found to be a genuinely intelligent chap, could be so utterly naive and really quite silly about things like this.

Jeremy reached over and ruffled Rubio's long, thick, wavy hair.
"What's that for?" asked Rubio
"Nothing, kid, nothing at all"

[Legalese]

And now it's time for NS's longest-running regional association football tournament to close its 34th edition, and crown a champion. This is the RP cutoff for the 3rd-place game and the Championship.

[Audioslavia]

Toro!

Red Rag evades Bulls once more

[align=right]By Rubio Sanchez for the Emberton Post

For the fifth time in five major finals, Audioslavia have come up short.

To be fair to Audioslavia, however, whereas the Bulls's defeats in the finals of World Cups 12, 19, 20 and 29 were due to a measure of being outclassed, then choking, and then being crushed by the weight of history, their 2-0 defeat to a much stronger Pacitalia side was more of a formality. Despite their impressive run during the AOCAF, accounting for countless scalps and managing to concede just three goals throughout the entire campaign - two of those to Andossa Se Mitrin Vega, whos defeat they avenged in a pulsating semi-final - the odds on an Audioslavia victory were very long indeed.

The claret and green outfit did start brightly, with Weverton Sporadic having a decent pot-shot on goal on the fifth minute that was tipped wide by a sprawling Ander Bera, forcing the first of a succession of three corner-kicks that the favourites defended well.

It would take until the twenty minute mark for Pacitalia to get a proper foot-hold in the game, but once they did so it became increasingly difficult to see an Audioslavia victory.

Other teams had pinned Audioslavia into their own half during the campaign, but none so relentlessly as Pacitalia. The blue foxes came close to scoring on four seperate occasions, with Guirimano denied by a goal-line clearance and an athletic Charlestone save, before Michelangelo Mascagnano struck the woodwork with a header and Cadi Herrara wasted the greatest chance of them all just before half time, skying what should have been a simple tap-in a good ten feet over the bar from close range.

Herrara's howler may well have been the reason the winger was pulled off during the half-time interval, with the more attack-minded Sergio Fernandez replacing him at left wing.

Fernandez would make his presence felt almost immediately after the restart, galloping past a woefully overmatched Jurk Jaffacake on the wing, cutting inside and bending a curling shot past the goalie only to watch the ball veer agonisingly off target.

Pacitalia would finally break the deadlock on the hour mark, and from there on it really was an uphill struggle for an Audioslavia side that maybe, just maybe, were beginning to believe they could get back in the game.

An Audioslavia counter-attack had to be aborted after a mis-placed pass from Vauvenargues, and Sema - recently added to the team early in the second half as a replacement for an ineffective Dante Mamo - was able to intercept, racing into a vacated space before playing a beautiful, defence-splitting pass with the outside of his right foot and into the path of striker Giurimano, who had anticipated the ball. The Pacitalia forward thumped a low, first-time shot into the corner and nonchalantly raised a finger in the air as he jogged towards the crowd, managing to refrain from grinning for all of six seconds.

Pacitalia would press for a second almost immediately, forcing two corners before Demi Santos was brought down on the edge of the box, and Diego Cruz whipped the resulting free-kick around the wall and off the post, to be cleared by a back-tracking Delain Colgan.

Audioslavia battled bravely, pressing harder and forcing more errors from an increasingly tired Pacitalian team, but if anything the Bulls fitness levels were worse, and any creative influence up front was definitely lacking, despite manager Kelly Sporadic having made all three of his permitted substitutions by that point, with strikers Pantera and Monza entering the fray in an all-or-nothing attempt at parity.

The Bulls would be put out of their misery on eighty-five minutes. After increasingly losing posession in attack for the previous few minutes, Audioslavia were eventually punished, with Ambrosino Guirimano grabbing his second goal of the match, again after being set-up by a quick, decisive, killer through ball, this time chosing to chip the ball over the advancing goalkeeper and watch the ball bounce over the line and into the net. Pactialia 2, Audioslavia 0, and that was how the score would stay.


A devestated Calaexa Jeroen after the final whistle.

Audioslavia were forced yet again to collect their runners-up medals and watch another team raise a glittering trophy aloft. It has to be said, though, that Audioslavia's acievement was simply to get to this stage in the first place. If the side can begin to match their attack to their defence and start to work to create goals rather than leave them up to chance and the wizardry of star-in-the-making Weverton Sporadic, then the side can go far in the upcoming Baptism of Fire tournament. They must, after this display, be favourites to make the final and, who knows? Perhaps the Audioslavian curse may one day be lifted.

Audioslavia's AOCAF34 statistics:

Played: 8
Won: 5
Drawn: 1
Lost: 2

Goals For: 8
Goals Against: 5

Top Scorer: Weverton Sporadic (5)