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dorizardthewizard · 3 years

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The Revival of Akillian: Chapter 10

Okay, there’s a few things that need to be addressed with this chapter so check out the reblogs for translator notes!

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Prologue / Chapter 9 / Chapter 11

10. CRUEL MEMORIES

“We remind everyone that the head of Sonny Backbones, the leader of the Pirates, is still priced at two million standard credits. For a more beautiful Galaxy, help Technoid!”

After this cheerful message, which shows Sonny Blackbones’s square head from the front and in profile, the advertisement break ends and the match resumes between the Wambas and the Pirates. This friendly match, “sponsored by Technoid” (despite the participation of the Pirates, long-time enemies of the company), is in its second half. The score is still a draw despite the obvious technical superiority of the Wambas. However, the Pirates seem to know in advance their strategy and their special moves, and come close to cheating thanks to their flux, the Seed of Shiloe, which allows them for a brief moment to produce decoys – projected doubles of themselves. This destabilizes the Wamba players… but they are not left out, compensating for the “treachery” of the Pirates by speed and agility which, on their own ground, the Jungle Stadium, they use profusely with their flux, the Roar, which expresses itself over their bodies in the form of golden sparks. In addition, they seem to be having a lot of fun, which is not the case with the Pirates who, despite their tricks, are falling behind.

“...an incredible leap, almost a somersault that Wouwambou just performed!” cries the excited announcer. “He kept the ball anyway, his clawed feet give him a definite advantage over his opponent - rather his opponents, it looks like there are two of them... no, he has only one defender against him. Wouwambou makes a very long pass to Lun-Zaera who was just waiting for this opportunity! She easily escapes the Pirate defender by leaping over, her control over the flux is remarkable, that of the ball too! Lun-Zaera rushes towards the goal, nothing can stop her, it seems, but here is the number 8 Pirate - a substitute? - who tackles the ball, too late, Lun-Zaera has flown off with the ball at her foot, she performs a sort of pirouette, she is back on the ground, it seems that she has lost the ball... but no, the ball is in the net, it’s a goooal! The Pirate goalkeeper didn't see it coming and I admit neither did I, that’s how fast it was! 1-0 for the Wambas! ...”

Aarch turns off the TV and turns to his team, sprawled out on benches in the lounge cabin of the Tanaga, his personal ship (still piloted by Clamp, the Scrap he intended for this role having proven to be totally incompetent).

- As you know, Lun-Zaera is the star striker of the Wambas team. Her speed is legendary, so beware of that in particular... what did I just say, Thran?

- Huh? Uh...

Sitting next to his dozing brother, Thran leans over a small device he had cobbled together from bits and pieces of various components, salvaged from the Arena Stadium construction site.

- 67 hundredths of a second, - he says, his eyes wide. - From what I recorded, Lun-Zaera scored that goal in 67 hundredths of a second! (He looks up at Aarch who is scrutinizing him, arms crossed, brow furrowed) You said she’s very fast, sir. My device proves it!

- Well, Thran, you’ll be against her in no time!

Aarch shows the team a small golden-brown satellite that orbits near the large and beautiful planet Wamba, whose emerald jungles appear beneath mottles of iridescent clouds.

- You can see the Ibo moon through the portholes. From its light, the Wambas derive their flux, the Roar. It gives them greater agility than usual...

- What about us, sir? – interrupted D’jok. - Why do we have no flux? It was the Breath of Akillian, right?

- Yeah, but it disappeared because of the great ice age, - Thran explains. - The Catastrophe caused a shift in the orbital axis of our planet, which upset the entire magnetic field, and the Breath vanished. It’s scientifically proven, isn’t it, sir?

- That is the circulating theory, yes. - confirms Aarch.

- But sir, - insists D’jok. - What Tia can do with the ball, is that thanks to the Breath?

- Yes, that’s right…

Tia looks down, intimidated, as if D’jok were talking about a flaw she might have. Sitting across from her, Rocket smiles at her.

- But why is she the only one with it? - asks Thran. - Especially since she is from Obia!

- You all have it in each of you, I’m sure you do, - says Aarch. - But it won’t be enough for you to wake it up like Tia; you will also have to learn to channel it, to tame it. That will undoubtedly be the most difficult part...

- In the meantime, - intervenes Micro-Ice. - We will have to manage without it, is that it? Scoring goals in... how many did you say, Thran? A fraction of a second in any case. Well! No need to worry either way, it’s just a friendly match, right?

Aarch comes to stand in front of him.

- You will learn that there are no insignificant matches, Micro-Ice. You and the others have only one desire and that is to play on this team. And I want this team to go far, very far. So, you absolutely have to play to win!

- But if you don’t want to win, Micro-loser, - laughs Sinedd. – We’ll be fine without you!

Aarch turns around to face him.

- We won’t win anything without everyone on board, Sinedd, and you especially would do well to remember it! I already told you, you play too selfishly, but football is a team sport! Understand?

Sinedd frowns and pouts, but refuses to respond. Aarch continues:

- I can’t wait to see you in action on the pitch. In the meantime, rest, because you will need all your strength!

With these words, he joins Clamp in the cockpit. Sinedd takes his set of GF-Cards out of his pocket and takes a seat at a table.

- Anyone up for a game? Who wants to get demolished?

Thran, D’jok and Rocket go looking for their own cards and join Sinedd around the table. Micro-Ice goes to sit next to Mei, who ostensibly ignores him. She gazes sullenly at the planet Wamba growing in the portholes. It seems like it’s hellishly hot down there, full of mosquitoes, spiders, biting insects… Tia prefers to isolate herself in a sleeping cabin. Ahito, well, he doesn’t need to isolate himself to fall sleep.

Sinedd deals the cards with a smirk: sure of his victory or already cheating? Thran contemplates his deck with dreamy eyes.

- What’s the matter, Thran? – remarks Sinedd. - Have you never seen GF-Cards before or what?

- Do you realize that if this works out, one day we too will have our faces on GF-Cards? I can just imagine it... Thran, 300 caps, top defender on the... uh... the... what is our team called, guys?

- Hey, but… wait a second… you’re right! - D’jok realizes. - We don’t even have a name! A great team must have a great name! What should we call ourselves?

- Your turn, D’jok. – prompts Sinedd.

- Uh… - wonders Thran. - Galactik Bats isn’t bad, right? Or… uh, I don’t know, The Fireballs?

- Yeah… - says Sinedd, scooping up the cards. - Me, I’d say something like the Zeroes, or the Broken Feet!

Clamp’s voice echoes in the living room:

- Kids, get back to your seats and buckle your seatbelts. We’ve arrived!

- Did you hear that, Sinedd? Buckle it! - snaps Micro-Ice.

***

True to their reputation for hospitality, the Wambas had invited Aarch’s team to feast in the Council of Elders building, the equivalent of the Akillian Confederation. “Equivalent” is a big word, because comparing this building to the luxurious Confederation building would be liked comparing a cave to a castle: it is a large hut all made of wood and bamboo, with a thatched roof and walls of plant fibers, surrounded by a path of planks held up by long poles. It is nestled in a lush jungle, formed by gigantic trees (beside which Akillian Cedryans look like shrubs), whose enormous roots become entangled with the vegetation that masks the ground. Under this majestic foliage grow many bushes, giant ferns and mushroom trees where vines and climbing plants intermingle. Mangroves and swamps with uninviting brackish water are all around, which bathe in the heat and humidity of an oven. An abundance of wildlife rustles there, a crescendo of birdsong, cries, chirps, cackles, and buzzes of swarms of insects... fortunately kept at a distance by fragrant smoke suspended from the poles. On the other hand, the heat overwhelms the Akillians who sweat profusely, feeling shortness of breath and thickened blood.

A large common table has been set up on the platform, where they share the meal with their future opponents; pleasant, courteous and considerate, like all Wambas. The table is chaired by Wakura, Patriarch of the Council of Elders, a post similar to that held by Adium in the Akillian Confederacy. But unlike Adium, a young bureaucrat, Wakura was once a great footballer, who repeatedly led the Wambas to victory. Servants dressed in lavender - a sign of their belonging to a lower caste - bring trays of steaming food. Smoky and fragrant… a bizarre, sour, and spicy smell. D’jok grimaces.

- Do you know what the Wambas eat? - he asks Micro-Ice at the table next to him, looking worried.

- Yeah, exactly. Mimouk, the Cyclops cook at the Cafeteria, told me about it one day... that’s why I’m freaking out!

A servant sets a dish in front of them that looks like a gray, hairy mash, decorated with a sort of large strawberry, vaguely reminiscent of a human head. The smell rises to the nose like mustard, only more pungent.

- Good… good luck and bon appétit, Micro-Ice.

- You too…

D’jok grabs his wooden spoon and goes to help himself. He holds back, his eyes wide.

- But what is this thing?! (The “mash” just shuddered, making a sort of hiss) Am I hallucinating, or does it move like it’s alive?

- Uh... well... from what Mimouk said... - begins Micro-Ice with a downright disgusted expression.

Someone bends over the dish and plucks the “strawberry” with his three fingers. This is Wouwambou, the captain of the Wambas - bright green eyes, pearly gray complexion - apparently well recovered from his flu on Akillian.

- It’s called Blatch: a puree of fresh spiders in Colmache oil. A real treat! (He stuffs the thing into his mouth - it cracks and squeals) You’ll see, it’s really delicious.

- We don’t doubt it for a second… - Thran grimaces, disgusted.

- Or a very small fraction of a second, - adds Micro-Ice. - Just a few hundredths, eh, Thran?

Wakura taps his goblet with a knife that was used to cut up a local fruit, demanding silence. He then gets up:

- My very dear friends! I am happy to welcome you on behalf of all the Wamba people. I am particularly touched to welcome the team that Aarch has just formed to our planet (he turns to Aarch, who is sitting next to him). Aarch, you should know that with us, you are at home!

- Thank you, Wakura. It is an honor for me to be invited to your table.

- And now, dear friends, I propose a toast to your health! - adds the Patriarch, raising his goblet.

The Wambas gulp down the contents of theirs. The Akillians feel obligated to imitate them. It is a whitish, mucus-like liquid with a pronounced muddy taste.

- Yuck... - belches D’jok. - What is this stuff again?

Lun-Zaera, seated in front of him, leans over, licking her lips.

- It’s Gatcho slime soaked in the mud of the backwater. Isn’t that divine?

- Uh… I think I’m going to throw up… - replies Thran, suddenly pale.

- You may not know, - Wakura continues. - But your coach has been with us for a long time. You could even say he rebuilt himself here, mentally and physically. We fed him, we took care of him! This is why the bond between Aarch and the Wambas is so strong...

Aarch lowers his head. This innocent and kind evocation of Wakura’s brings back to mind some very cruel memories...

It was ten years ago. A group match qualifying for the Galactik Football Cup. Aarch was attacking, although Artegor Nexus claimed otherwise. Overflowing with the Shadow’s Smog that spread a trail of black ink behind him, rage in his heart, hatred in his eyes, he rushed like a madman towards the Cyclops’ goal.

“Aarch attacks with a startling breakthrough, he decided to take his chances! The Cyclops defense have sensed the danger and decide to cut Aarch off in his tracks!”

Massive and determined, united by a telepathic bond, the three Cyclops defenders rushed to meet him. Without deviating an inch, without attempting any tricks, Aarch hit them head-on. The Smog he gave off prevented them from using their flux, the Psycho-Bug, which boosts their perception and cohesion. He chuckled, amused at how he had hurt them.

“Aarch fought off the Cyclops effortlessly! What determination in this player!”

It wasn’t determination, it was fury. The Smog was also confusing his mind, like an overdosed doping drug. He no longer thought, no longer saw, no longer respected anything. With Artegor Nexus dragging him down this dangerous slope, he had become a war machine destined to pulverize opposing goals. He passed to Artegor, immediately marked by two Cyclops, who returned the ball to Aarch, who resumed his inexorable charge, jostling and knocking down an opposing player.

“Foul!” He heard through his earphones - but he didn’t listen, he ran, blind and deaf. Another Cyclops tried to stop him, having seen the referees flashing. Screaming in fury, Aarch crushed him, suffocating him under an overflow of Smog. He went to shoot at the goal... the ball disappeared: there was a foul, so play had stopped. His dark energy no longer finding an outlet, it spilled out of him like a hemorrhage of ink. He rolled on the floor, drooling and growling. The Smog escaped, flowing from him in huge black streaks. Lying on the ground, his arms outstretched, he still writhed, wanting to get up, finish the match, finish the Cyclops, but he could not… the Smog flowed, he groaned, losing the Breath, his life… his teammates and even his adversaries ran up, worried, a flying stretcher descended from above… the Smog flowed… and everything went black.

***

The blackness lasted several months… the first memory that came back to his mind was this great yellow sun that warmed his eyelids, filtered by foliage which seemed to him to be several hundred meters high. Around Aarch, wooden buildings, thatched roofs… he was lying almost naked on a mat spread on a bed of rough planks, a brightly colored cushion under his head. Birds were singing, insects chirping. A beautiful young woman with short brown hair, big blue eyes and full lips stepped out of a house of wood and cloth, bringing with her a plate of steaming vegetables. For a moment, Aarch believed in heaven. He smiled at this divine apparition...

- So, how is our patient today? Are you feeling better?

Later, Aarch learned that this woman was called Simbai, Dame Simbai. She was a Human exiled to the planet Wamba, where she learned the secrets of native plants and medicines. It was she who, by her mark of care, patience and concern, had succeeded in restoring to Aarch his physical strength, his sanity and his memory… and it was Clamp, his old and faithful friend Clamp, who had torn from the Shadow hospital where he had been taken, where the local doctors proved powerless to contain this hemorrhage of Smog: they had never seen something like that before… later, when he felt better, Dame Simbai explained to him that she believed the Breath of Akillian and the Smog of Obscurantis were two incompatible fluxes, which had competed within Aarch to somehow “dominate” him. The Smog had won him over after his long stay on the Shadows’ planet, but it had made him furious, devoured by an inordinate ambition, a rage to win that only occurred among the greatest dictators or warlords... Artegor apparently fared better, no doubt because the Breath of Akillian was weaker in him. But hadn’t he, too, become arrogant and ambitious, driven by an obsession to win?

- Are you okay, Aarch? Aarch?

He tears himself away from contemplating the mangrove swamp, and the species of dragonflies the size of pigeons that frolic there in a colorful ballet dance.

- Simbai! You have no idea how happy I am to see you!

She has aged a bit; her brown hair has grown, her big blue eyes are protected by small glasses, but her lips are still so attractive, her smile so charming, and her waist, surrounded by a wide red belt, still so fine...

- Are you surprised to see me? I still live here, don’t you remember?

She leans over the edge of the wooden pontoon, dipping her hand in the warm yellow water of the backwater.

- Yes, of course. I haven’t lost my memory again, you know (Aarch joins her, kneels on the ground, then grabs her wet hand). Dear Dame Simbai… (He places a hand over her fingers) Dame Simbai… - he repeats in a tone of respect, deference… and love.

In Dame Simbai’s ear, a small shiny clasp beeps, audible only to her: her permanent link with the Flux Society. Master Zimbra thus lets them know about her encounter with Aarch... as expected.

***

In front of the entrance porch of the large hut of the Council of Elders, Tia, sitting on a rock, also contemplates the backwater. She would have been swimming there just to cool off, but she wonders with some anxiety what dreadful beasts could be splashing about in these silty waters. Besides the sweaty heat that puts her to sleep, she feels a bit heavy, has a rumbling belly and the unpleasant feeling that the Blatch is still wriggling in her stomach. What atrocious food! ...she ate it all the same, because her parents always told her that she should be able to eat anything: “If one day you become an ambassador like us, know that it is extremely rude to refuse the food offered to you by the peoples you visit. So, you will give us the pleasure of eating without complaining what your housekeeper is preparing for you!” Well, it’s not deadly, if Aarch has lived here for several years… for an old man like him, he looks pretty good.

Wouwambou takes a short stroll on the path, in order to take advantage of the relative coolness - only thirty-five degrees today - and to digest the succulent Blatch which he had eaten a little too much of. He suddenly stops, noticing Tia on the rock in front of the entrance. The green irises of his eyes widen, a sign of intense emotion. It’s her! …“She must not be able to play anymore. Never again. Am I clear enough?” Oh yes, Artegor Nexus was very clear. And Wouwambou, that fool, accepted the money. He was able to pay for the doctor, the medicine, and even bring credits to his family. Now he has to honor his end of the bargain... he does not think for a second to shy away, because the Wambas are not like that: they keep their promises, even if it would cost them their lives. But this young Human looks so kind and so fragile… why should Wouwambou prevent her from pursuing her passion? Why must he hurt her, her soul and body? Ah, cruel fate! How devious and wicked humans are! He slips away, feeling shame; he especially doesn’t want to have to talk to little Tia, to bond with her - only to destroy her afterwards. This is totally against the Wamba spirit.

Coming out of the house in search of a bit of coolness, Rocket descends the steps leading to the pontoon, and joins Tia at the foot of the rock. She stands up quickly, ready to flee, then relaxes: Rocket is not an enemy, he does not mean harm to her. As long as he doesn’t touch her, he’s fine.

- Tia… you haven’t told the others about what you know, I hope?

- What are you talking about?

- You didn’t tell them I was Aarch’s nephew, did you?

- No, of course not, come on!

She accompanies her words with a smile and sits down, losing her gaze in the depths of the jungle. Rocket in turn climbs onto the rock and sits next to her, dripping with sweat.

- Well, that’s good! That way, we will each have our little secret...

Sharing secrets is a good start to sharing other things afterwards, such as intimate moments, he thinks. Can he afford to take Tia’s hand, or is it still too soon? But his remark does not produce the desired effect at all:

- What are you talking about, Rocket? - Tia gets angry. - I have nothing to hide!

- What? But… uh… - he stammers, unsettled. - Your arrival on Akillian...

- Excuse me, miss… - a voice echoes behind them (it is one of the Wamba servants, he seems rather old). – Haven’t we bumped into each other somewhere?

- I don’t think so! - Tia answers sharply.

- I’ve worked on many planets, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you before. - insists the servant. – Aren’t you the daughter of... oh, what’s their name? This couple of diplomats?

- I’m telling you, no! - retorts Tia, who jumps down from the rock and walks away briskly.

Rocket gets up in turn, then glares at the Wamba: this idiot screwed everything up! Embarrassed by the hostile expression, the servant walks away muttering.

- It’s her, I’m sure. My memory never deceives me.

#galactik football #the revival of akillian

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starbright18 · 2 years

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BATTLEFIELD - PART TWO, MASTER PLAN - PART ONE

☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.

Stiles was...struggling.He tried, hard. But it seemed like every time he caught the ball, he struggled a little bit, being continuously tackled and knocked down by opposing players. Coach refused to let Scott play, however, soon Isaac showed up, dressed and ready to help us win. He was assumed to be a runaway along with Erica and Boyd, so seeing him was a relief but I still found myself worried about the fate of the other two betas.

Scott's plan to get in the game consisted of recruiting Isaac and me to take out the line of replacements until Scott was the only one left. We split the job evenly, each of us running full force into different players until the entire substitute bench was empty.

The plan worked well until it came down to the last player. This time, four bodies collided when we took out the last replacement. Jackson, Isaac, Ramirez, and I all slammed together roughly before dropping to the floor with a groan. After the collision, Jackson removed his helmet and walked away like nothing happened while Isaac still lay on the ground.

"Are you okay, Lahey?" I rushed out, moving onto my knees next to him. Scott joined us, leaning over him nervously.

"Nothing's broken, but I can't move," He groaned out. "I thinkJackson nicked me because I can feel it spreading."

"You wanna play chess, Scott? Then you better be willing to sacrifice your own pawns."

"McCall, you're in or we forfeit," Coach announced, throwing a lacrosse stick into Scott's hands while they loaded Isaac on a stretcher and carried him off the field. I was just about to put my helmet back on when Melissa approached, grabbing Scott and me by the arms.

"Hey, something's happening, isn't it?" She asked softly. "Something more than a lacrosse game?"

"Yeah," I sighed softly.

"You should go," Scott nodded.

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere. And everything that I said before, forget it. All of it. Okay? If you two can do something to help, then you do it. You have to." She looked between us for confirmation.

"We will," Scott promised her. She rushed off the field and he glanced down at me with a sad smile on his face.

"Margo—"

"Don't say anything you wouldn't tell me if we weren't at risk of dying, Scott," I begged.

"I love you," He raised his eyebrows, leaning down to kiss my temple. "Be careful."

☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.

We were being run over, quite literally, as the game progressed. We were falling behind in points and being brutally tackled by various different players that were keeping us from running the ball. Protecting Scott, I ran forward, allowing my body to collide with a larger opposing player who took me off my feet and sent my body sprawling backward before crashing roughly to the floor.

"Fucking abomination," I groaned lowly. Stiles and Scott met the same fate, both being knocked roughly to the grass below them. When I stood, I rushed over to Stiles and helped him to his feet. "You okay?"

"This is terrifying," he breathed out.

"Yeah, it is," I grinned, patting him on the back. "You've got this, Stiles." With a pat to the head, I was rushing back to my spot. Just before the next play could begin, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of dread, of danger — Isaac.

"Who is it?" Scott jogged up to me, capturing my wrist. "I could see your eyes from across the field."

"It's Isaac," I nodded slowly. "Scott, I have to help him."

"We have to help him," he corrected. Taking advantage of the distraction that stemmed from subbing out players, Scott and I took off, ripping our helmets off while we raced to where my body was telling me to go, to the locker room.

We entered silently, hearing Gerard taunting Isaac while he dragged a sword across the concrete. Isaac was sitting on the sink, gasping for breath while Argent and his two hunters approached him. However, Isaac's smirk brought Gerard's attention to the mirror on the wall behind Isaac, noticing Scott and I's glowing eyes in the reflection.

With a low snarl, I grabbed the hunter nearest to me by the back of his neck, forcing him to the floor before I roughly threw him across the room. I followed closely behind, lifting him once more to throw him into the wall where he fell unconscious against the floor. Scott's hunter followed and I raced back to Isaac, grabbing his face with both hands and looking him over for injuries.

"So, you do care about me," He taunted much like he did the night of the rave. I rolled my eyes and sighed deeply.

"I do care about you, Lahey, but don't push it. I only stopped them because if anybody's gonna kick your ass while you're already down, it's gonna be me." I smirked.

"Where'd is he?" Scott whirled around. It was then that I noticed that Gerard had seemingly vanished into thin air.

The three of us shared a look in realization, spinning around one more time before we forced our way back out to the field. When he got back, the timer was at 30 seconds. Scott held my hand tightly the entire way, guiding me behind him while we forced our way through the happy crowd. We won, but the score was the least of my concerns when the referee blew the whistle, signaling that the game had ended.

"Nothing happened," Scott breathed in surprise, turning to face me. "Nothing." Just as he finished speaking, one by one, the floodlights around the arena began to go out. A loud scream followed shortly after and the crowd began to go crazy, pushing each other around as they tried to escape.

"Scott?" I called out, unable to see him due to the lack of light. In the force of the crowd, our hands were forced apart. "Stiles!" I stumbled around semi-blindly before I allowed my eyes to shift, granting me the ability to see. "Dad? Stiles?" I forced my way past people, shoving random people and players out of my way while I forced my eyes to try to find Stiles.

"Scott? Scott, where are you?" I heard Melissa shouting. "Margo?"

"Mom," Scott breathed in relief, catching his mother on the arm before his hand shot out and grabbed mine as well. "Margo. Are you okay?"

"I'm—I'm fine, but there's someone down on the field," Melissa drew in a shaky breath. I turned slowly, my eyes narrowing in on a lacrosse player who lay unmoving, surrounded by other players. The lights flickered back on, adding to the eerie scene.

"Oh, God," My legs moved as fast as they could, hauling my body across the field at topnotch speed before I dropped to my knees next to the player. To my surprise, it was Jackson.

"Move! Out of the way!" Coach Finstock shouted, breaking into the crowd as well.

"Jackson? What happened's happened to Jackson? Jackson!" Lydia's voice screamed through the crowd. As discreetly as I could, I placed my hands on his face but frowned when I felt no pain moving through my body.

"Can we get a medic over here? We're gonna need a medic!" Coach yelled out. Melissa dropped to her knees on the other side of me, slowly leaning her head down on Jackson's chest before feeling his wrist.

"He's not breathing. No pulse," She breathed shakily. My breathing hitched in my throat and tears filled my eyes as I processed what had happened. Jackson Whittemore had been the casualty for the night. Jackson Whittemore was dead.

"Nothing?" Coach asked incredulously. Melissa lifted Jackson's jersey to reveal his bloody abdomen that was covered in what would appear to be stab wounds, but I recognized them as claw marks. Gerard had Jackson kill himself.

"Oh, my God," Lydia sobbed. "There's blood. There's blood!"

"Get down here and hold his head," Melissa instructed.

"Now, Lydia," I snapped, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the ground next to me. I used my hands to demonstrate the way to hold him so he would have a safe, open airway. "Just like this. Lydia, stay with us, okay? Hold his head." Her hands took my place and I breathed in deeply, looking around. It took me a moment before I realized there was a face missing.

"Stiles?" I called shakily, rising to my feet. "Stiles!"

"Where the hell is my son?" Dad shouted out. "Stiles!"

"Stiles!" I made a small circle around the group of players, screaming out to the crowd. "Stiles, where are you?"

"Stiles!"

Jackson was gone. Stiles was gone. The last bit of my sanity went with them.

☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.

"I gotta meet with the medical examiner and try to figure out what happened with Jackson." Dad sighed lowly. "I've got an APB out on Stiles. His jeep is still in the parking lot, so that means...God, hell, I don't know what that means, um. Look, if he answers his phone, if he answers his emails, if either one of you see him..."

"We'll call you," Isaac nodded solemnly. I drew in a shaky breath and squeezed dad's hand tightly. He was the only thing holding me together right now. In the mess of tonight, I had once again missed a member of my pack being in trouble, my own brother. And now who knows where he is, or if he's okay.

"Look, he's probably just freaked out from all the attention or something," Scott suggested softly. "We'll find him."

"Yeah," dad nodded. "I'll see you, okay? And Margo, you—you be careful, okay?"

"Always am, dad," I leaned up and wrapped my arms around him, squeezing tightly. "I love you. Call me if you hear from Stiles."

"I love you too, sweetheart," Dad kissed my temple softly before breaking away from me and leaving the locker room. The tension between players was thick, almost suffocating as we all processed the loss of our co-captain and friend.

"McCall," Coach approached as soon as dad stepped away. "We need you on the team, okay? You know I can't put you on the field next season if you don't get your grades up."

"Yeah, I know, coach," Scott sighed.

"Alright," Coach Finstock began to back away but suddenly changed his mind, turning back to us. "I mean, I—I know I yell a lot, but it's not like I hate you guys. Well, I kinda hate Greenberg, but, you know, that's different. It's Greenberg. I'm just saying, we...I need you on the team, buddy. Get your grades back up."

"I will."

"I know," Coach turned on his heel, sparing us one last backward glance before he left the locker room. Once I was sure the room was empty, I turned toward Stiles' locker.

"Is that everyone?" Scott asked Isaac softly.

"I think so," Isaac sighed. Within an instant, I grabbed Stiles' locker by the clip that held his combination lock and ripped it off the hinges, throwing it to the floor. Both Scott and Isaac turned to me in shock but I ignored their looks, fishing out a t-shirt and a shoe.

"You're gonna find him by scent?" Isaac asked incredulously.

"We are gonna find him by scent," I corrected, passing Scott the shirt and Isaac the shoe. I went without an article of clothing, knowing I would be able to catch Stiles' scent without considering I smelled it every day.

"How come Scott gets his shirt and I get his shoe?" Isaac frowned, motioning between himself and Scott. From the corner of my eye, I saw Derek enter the locker room. He stood with his arms behind his back, eyeing the three of us closely.

"We need to talk," he announced ominously. Out of the shadows stepped Peter Hale, stopping beside his nephew with a smirk. My eyes widened in surprise and I took a small step back, eyeing the man who was supposed to be dead.

"All of us," Peter chimed in.

"Holy shit," Scott mumbled.

"What the hell is this?" I growled lowly, baring my teeth at my old alpha.

"You know, I thought the same thing when we saw Scott talking to Gerard at the sheriff's station," Derek sassed, taking a small step forward.

"Okay, hold on. He—he threatened to kill my mom," Scott defended. "And I had to get close to him. What was I supposed to do?"

"I'm gonna go with Scott on this one," Peter shrugged, nodding his head. "Have you seen his mom? She's gorgeous."

"Shut up," Four voices chorused in sync, directing our glares at Peter who rolled his eyes.

"Who is he?" Isaac leaned close to Scott.

"He's Peter, Derek's uncle," Scott informed him. "A little while back, he tried to kill us all, and then we set him on fire and Derek slashed his throat."

"Hi," Peter held his hand up, waving at Isaac.

"That's good to know," Isaac smiled weakly.

"I'd like to volunteer myself to finish the job," I growled, curling up my nose in disgust.

"Still ever the emotional, angry teenager, I see," Peter raised his eyebrows. "Glad to see my favorite beta still has her spark." I flashed my eyes and he visibly recoiled, ducking his head back to look at me in surprise. "Oh, those are new. I must say, dark and deadly is a good look on you."

"Okay, enough!" Derek cut in.

"How is he alive?" Scott snapped.

"Look, the short version is he knows how to stop Jackson, and maybe how to save him," Derek summarized.

"Well, that's very helpful, except Jackson's dead," Isaac frowned. Derek and Peter's faces fell in shock and I found my own face following as I was forced to remember what Gerard forced Jackson to do to himself.

"What?"

"He's dead, it just happened on the field," I nodded slowly. When Peter and Derek shared a weird look, I found myself growing even more confused.

"Okay, why is no one taking this as good news?" Isaac asked, his face bearing the same confused look like my own.

"Because if Jackson is dead, it didn't just happen. Gerard wanted it to happen," Peter explained, raising his eyebrows.

"But why?"

"Well, that's exactly what we need to figure out. And something tells me the window of opportunity is closing. Quickly," Peter stepped forward, stopping in front of me with a small smile.

"Let's go. The quicker we get this figured out, the quicker I can send Peter back to the grave."

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bongaboi · 2 years

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Harding-Kerrigan Redux

When people talk about the Tonya Harding-Nancy Kerrigan mess, what often gets lost is that the scheme worked. Sort of.

Kerrigan was attacked by two men intent on boosting the Olympic chances of her U.S. teammate and figure-skating nemesis, Harding. (Harding later pleaded guilty to helping cover up the Keystone Kops plot.)

But though the story had been leading newscasts for weeks and most of the details were already public knowledge, Harding was still allowed to compete at Lillehammer 1994. For a moment there, despite everything, Harding could have come out on top.

It didn’t turn out that way. Harding busted a lace at the Winter Games, cried to the judges and finished eighth. Kerrigan finished second and got caught on a hot mic saying “This is so corny” as she was paraded through Disney World. Neither competed at the highest level again.

On one level, it’s a parable about the corrosive effects of aspiration and hubris.

But if you’re more a fan of Machiavelli than Aesop’s Fables, there’s another way of looking at it. That it wasn’t so much a colossally stupid idea (which it was) as a poorly executed one. Without drawing any direct parallels between the two events, that brings us to the curious case of the Paris Saint-Germain women’s soccer team.

PSG is the best team in the best women’s league in the world. Like its men’s counterpart, PSG Féminine is a lavishly funded super team constructed without regard to profit margins. The goal isn’t just winning. It is stockpiling as much talent as possible. That talent includes Canadians Ashley Lawrence, Stephanie Labbé and Jordyn Huitema.

Things didn’t totally work out for PSG last year, so the club went on a buying spree. One of its acquisitions was veteran midfielder Kheira Hamraoui.

Hamraoui’s arrival punted another PSG midfielder, Aminata Diallo, onto the substitutes bench.

Having too many good players and not enough spots on the field is a typical problem for the richest soccer teams. Whenever you hear that top player X wants out of top team Y, this is usually the source of the friction. Often, these fights become ugly.

But according to reports in France, things may have jumped a level in this instance.

The French sports bible, L’Équipe, says matters took a turn for the film noir last week. The PSG squad got together for a team dinner. Afterward, Diallo offered to give Hamraoui a lift.

As they pulled up outside Hamraoui’s home, two men in balaclavas set upon them. They pulled Hamraoui out of the car and beat her with iron bars. The assault particularly targeted her legs. The attackers stole nothing and left.

Hamraoui was treated for cuts and bad bruises and sent to the injured reserve. The incident was news, but only in the sense of reminding the French public that bad things happen to famous people as well.

On Tuesday, Diallo took Hamraoui’s place in the starting team for a Champions League match against Real Madrid. On Wednesday morning, she was arrested by police in Versailles. At the moment, she is suspected of involvement in the attack.

“The club is paying close attention to the progress of the proceedings and will study what action to take,” PSG said in a statement.

They won’t be the only ones.

First things first – nothing’s been proved one way or the other. Maybe this is a terrible mix-up, or someone looking to stitch up a blameless person in order to get an easier ride for themselves.

But let’s just say that if the details as reported are actual facts, it doesn’t look great.

What amazes me is not that such a thing can happen, but that it happens so rarely. There is no glory in our culture quite like athletic glory. You’d imagine people who are just one person removed from it might go to unhealthy, even cruel, lengths to get some for themselves.

Combine glory with the promise of money, and that’s a combo that could turn the best of us bad.

If we want to see where this goes from here, we reach back nearly 30 years to the Kerrigan-Harding template.

By the end of the week, Hamraoui and Diallo will be the two most famous women’s soccer players in the world. If the story gets any more gaudy, they may soon be the two best-known female athletes, full stop. That isn’t a good thing for either of them.

The story contains too much tabloid catnip not to be debased immediately to its most lurid components. This won’t be about one person’s harrowing experience of being set upon and put in fear of her life. It’ll be about two crude feminine stereotypes coming into conflict.

Abetted by the content-hungry public – including the part that will howl loudest about the unfairness of it all – the media will pick over both their lives until there’s nothing left but bone. The best-case scenario is that it ends quickly and justly. The worst case, for all involved, is that it drags on for months.

It’s not polite to say it, but this sort of thing drives interest in pro sports, in the same way Kerrigan-Harding drove interest in figure skating. (Their head-to-head showdown in Norway was, at the time, the sixth most-watched program in U.S. television history.)

Every once in a while, we need to be reminded that athletes aren’t just going through the motions and collecting cheques. They will do anything – in a very few cases, literally so – to get to the top.

It’s not a valorous instinct. It shouldn’t applauded or encouraged. But it does reorient the audience’s perception of the stakes involved. And whether we will admit it, it makes us want to watch even more.

#2021 #psg feminines

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nickrogers1-blog1 · 4 years

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Should College Athletes Get Paid

Should College Athletes Get paid

According to the New York Times, article https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/26/learning/should-college-athletes-be-paid.html?searchResultPosition=1 athletes do not get paid any money throughout their college career and they are forced to sign a contract when playing saying athletes can not get paid or not being able to accept any money from the university or any students in general. Athletes and fans think this is a big problem when playing sports and not getting paid since they have to fully devote themselves to the sport they are committed too and always missing class for practices, games and team meetings. Is it far athletes don't get paid?

Nick Rogers is a retired NCAA basketball coach for Kentucky. I coached 10 years a Kentucky and I have helped coach the team to win 8 national championships. Nick Rogers coached Kentucky to six Final Fours, in 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015 and 2016. He also led UMass and Memphis to the Final Four in 1996 and 2008 respectively. As a college coach, Rogers has twenty-four 29-win seasons, nine 31-win seasons, and three 38-win seasons.

College sports are entertainment for college students and people who love competitive and contact sports. Sports, in general, is a big thing in our country since there are different types of sports and everyone has a chance to be involved in a sport since there is a sport for everybody to play and be good at. There are types of athletes that are better than others and can tend to get a college scholarship somewhere at a university to continue their career doing a sport that they love. Sometimes athletes are good, but not as experienced to play in a national league to make that sport be their career forever. Some athletes think it unfair that they don’t get paid when getting a college scholarship somewhere to play a sport for the university.

College sports are a way of entertainment for many college sports fans, but there are many problems of why athletes should be paid when playing sports in college. There are several types of sports ranging from nonphysical to the most physical contact sports. Each sport takes sacrifice and dedication to be able to perform at your best knows matter what level. The NCAA is a million-dollar business that lets student athletes show their athletic ability and skill toward other individuals. College athletes think it unfair that they don’t get paid when getting a college scholarship to play a sport. It is unfair to the players that they don’t get paid and it is no promise that athletes can get into a national league to make it their career. Therefore, athletes need money to keep them on their feet so they can find a career since the players never went to class and they focused more on the sport that got a scholarship from.

Being a college student-athlete can be a full-time job, bouncing between the weight room, the court or field, classes, and film sessions. College athletics are extracurricular activities, but the schedules of the National Collegiate Athletic Association’s (NCAA) tournaments require an extended period in which the student-athletes must miss school. The athletes don’t just miss class, but they are absent for nationally televised games that make lots of money and receive millions of viewers. Allowing athletes to sign endorsement deals with brands like Nike and Adidas would be a huge step forward, and it would benefit both the players and the companies.

Since student-athletes also bring in revenue for their team and college or university, especially in the championship games, those who debate in favor of paying them to say the students could receive a small portion of the profits. Yes, pay would alter just as the universities with the more successful teams receive more television time or money than those with less successful teams.

Athletes can get hurt from tearing their ACL or other injuries on the court or at practice and this could ruin their scholarship or career in a sport that they’re playing. For example, Zion Williams hurt his ankle and many people thought he wouldn’t even come back to play another game of basketball because the injury was so serious. If players get hurt during the season they deserve to get paid for what they have done and the progress they have made throughout their season. Athletes don’t deserve to get paid the full amount of the season if they got injured but they do deserve to get paid for the hard work they put in and the amount of focus they have toward the sport than focusing on going to classes at their university. Specific players for starters deserve to get paid the most because they carry the team and they play the most when it comes to special games or when rival teams play against each other. During March madness were tournaments starters are the only ones that play throughout the whole game because they are the best players on their team and the coaches can count on them the most to get them the win. Bench players are good for substitutions or if a starter athlete gets hurt so that they can play the game for them. Second-string or third-string players don’t deserve to get paid as much as other star athletes on their team because they do not have the advanced skills that the other players have.

College football and men’s basketball programs earn far more than any other athletic program, so these athletes would likely earn more as well. This may not be considered fair pay, but many of those who argue in support of paying college players point out that team popularity and consumers generally determine what is “fair.” These sports also tend to support other less popular sports that do not bring in a lot of money on their own. (Martinez, Madisen. “Should College Student-Athletes Be Paid? Both Sides of the Debate.”CollegeXpress,www.collegexpress.com/articles-and-advice/athletics/blog/should-college-student-athletes-be-paid-both-sides-debate/).

Coaches in college get paid a tremendous amount of money per season just for coaching a college sport. Coaches do a lot when coming to coaching a sport they go over playbooks, look and new plays to put into the playbook for the game, they also choose who would be playing in the games. The highest paid basketball coach Mike Krzyzewski who makes 9 million dollars per season and he gets a potential bonus of $350,000 if he coaches the team to win a national championship. Coach K has won 5 championships while coaching the University of Kentucky. If coaches make millions of dollars why shouldn't they give some money to the athletes that help the coach win championships and make him money? Athletes deserve to get paid for the hard work they put in and being so focused on the sport they got a scholarship from.

Coaches should be able to choose who gets paid on their team since the players that ride the bench for most games don’t deserve to get paid very much since they never play in any of the games and they are there to just cheer for their team. The starting athletes that play most games deserve to get paid for the talent they have and they the most pressure because it is up to the starting players put the most effort into the sport and it is their goal to win the game.

In conclusion, it is unfair to the athletes that they don’t get paid in college for doing sports that they got a scholarship from. College coaches get paid too much money per season and in return, coaches should be able to give small proportions of money to their players in return for being so focused on their sport and never attending class due to the focus they have to their sport and always being out of town for college games. If the athletes never get paid and they don't end up making it to a professional league for their career then the players would have to go back to school and pay for their own tuition to find a new career they would want to too.

Overall, players need to get paid in college so they can support themselves if they don’t make to a pro league and it is unfair how coaches can get paid millions of dollars but players get paid none.

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jodalovesstuff · 5 years

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New Rules

Source: Wikicommons

You may notice a number of rule changes that went into effect June 1:

Goal Kicks: These no longer must leave the penalty area before being live. Instead, the ball is live as soon as the kick is taken. Opposing players must still be outside the box when the kick is taken, but this will encourage teams that like to press eliminate the occasional silly re-kick, and mildly benefit teams that press upfield on defense.

Free Kicks: Offensive players are no longer allowed to take positions in the defensive wall, but must set up at least a yard away; this should avoid delays and altercations.

Penalty Kicks: The goalkeeper must have one foot, rather than both feet, on or above the goal line when the kick is taken. This rule has been notoriously unenforced, as keepers routinely advance off the line early to cut down angles. Now that the standard has been loosened slightly, it remains to be seen whether referees will now be inclined to enforce it more strictly.

Substitutes: Substituted players must now leave the field at the nearest point, rather than taking the long leisurely stroll across the field to the halfway line.

Red Cards for Coaches: Referees will be able to show coaches and other bench officials yellow or red cards, in the same way they do with players; previously the choice was just a talking-to or an ejection; this makes the discipline more public and standardized.

Handballs: FIFA has tried to defuse the very subjective judgment of whether or not a touch is "deliberate," by instructing that any touch that results in an advantage, or a goal, will be nullified and penalized with a free kick. Still murky is whether the offending arm is judged to be in a position "unnatural" to the action the player is taking, or is "enlarging" the player's body.

Drop Ball: When play is stopped on the field for an injury, or for other reasons that don't involve a free kick, the referee will now restart play by simply giving the ball to a player of the team who last had possession, with no opponent allowed within four meters at the restart. Previously, it was given to the other team, which was expected to give it back to the team who had it last in a show of good sportsmanship. Once again, just speeding things up a bit, and cutting down on possible disputes in a tense game

#wwc 2019 #women's world cup #wc19 #new rules for anyone confused

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addc10 · 5 years

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Thoughts on the match?

I will try to be optimistic here, but just to be clear: I am very frustrated and disappointed. I won’t be able to speak much about formations and shape because after the second goal I had to just close my eyes and listen to Ray Hudson and Phil Schoen try to explain what was happening on the feild.

First things first, Eibar played excellently today. They were clean, they were sharp, they were onsides. Everything I wanted Real Madrid to be. This is their first win against us in their history and they did it with a clean sheet, and, let’s be honest without much trouble.

I will start at the back and work my way up from there. Courtois did not have a good game. And it would be fine, if it was one bad game and the rest of the team was playing well. Players are allowed to have bad games. But he hasn’t been having good games since he came to Madrid, I can’t really remember one outstanding save he has made or one great game. Navas is currently injured, recovering from surgery, but I missed him in goal today. I’m done thinking it was sentimental. I don’t trust Courtois in the back and I don’t think our defense does either. He can always prove me wrong. I would love for him to prove me wrong. But I haven’t seen much from him that would suggest he will.

Our defense was poor today. My commentators suggested that maybe this has been the defense of the past few years of Real Madrid, only without Casemiro and Navas. I disagree. I remember leg 1 of the Juventus game last year. I’ve seen Carvajal completely shut down an attacking threat on the wings. I’ve seen Ramos be an actual wall in the box. But I also remember leg 2 of the Juventus game last year. When our defense was eaten alive. And I think maybe winning the Champions League papered over some cracks that really needed addressing. Varane had a good game today. Ramos was shaky, and at times looked slow. Ordiozola had a game he would probably like to forget and Marcelo was largely anonymous for me, which is something I never thought I would say about Marcelo. He always seems to have a presence on the feild, but I had actually forgotten until well into the second half that he was back for this game. Carvajal didn’t have long enough on the pitch and I suspect he was put on before he was match fit. Which is strange, because we were chasing the game by two goals at that point and as much as I sometimes don’t like Vazquez at right back for defensive security, we needed goals, and Lucas is an attacking threat. Subbing mistake number one.

Our midfield was also poor today. I actually thought Modric played very well and he was the only player who, when the ball went to him, I wasn’t worried. Modric often thrives in these games where Real Madrid is struggling. I remember it in leg 2 of Juventus, in both legs of Bayern Munich, in countless other games over the years. But his composure on the ball and ability to get out of tight situations is vital. But recently I feel like it is almost unique in the Real Madrid squad this year. The only other player who has seen flashes of it was Ceballos, although not today. Modric won’t get credit for this because we lost today, but it was nice to see. He played two full games over this international break, I thought he would start rested, but I’m glad he didn’t, or it might have been worse. Now, Ceballos. I was screaming last game when he subbed in for DM, but then was pleasantly surprised at his performance. Now, I remember why I was so frustrated. Ceballos is an attacking midfielder. His mind is wired to attack. Yes, he can make tackles and win balls defensively, but his positional awareness, as in when to step to a ball, what space to take up, and when to track a late run into the box, is not the best. Modric And Varane bailed him out multiple times in this game and he was struggling so much in this position. And yet, he played the full 90 in it. Marcos Llorente is on the bench. Fede Valverde is on the bench. Both are better CDMs and have played it more naturally in the past. But Solari brought on Isco, and he took off Modric. Modric, who was our only attacking threat going forward in the midfield. All of our play was coming through him on the right hand side. Isco did well to create some opportunities as well, but it was a like-for-like substitution on a player who was one of the only ones who was playing well. It didn’t change our shape or how we attacked. Maybe it added fresh feet, but Isco arguably hasn’t been match fit either lately. Subbing mistake number two. You’ll notice I haven’t mentioned Kroos yet. This may be harsh, but it’s because I’m struggling to think of /anything/ he did during this game. He was so anonymous. And that’s a huge problem. The games we have been playing well, Kroos has been playing well. And he didn’t play for Germany over the international break. So he was fresh. But his passes were not clinical. He made silly decisions on the ball, once again. His pass to Ordiozola gave Eibar their second goal, which is really what killed off this game. You could almost believe one goal down. It was hard to believe after two.

And now, our front line. I don’t know the official tally, but my commentators were trying to keep track and they concluded we were offsides 11 times today. Or maybe just Benzema was. We were offsides ALOT, is the point. Now, some of the calls, we absolutely were not offsides for, which is frustrating. Especially when the back line is already quicker than our front line. But those are excuses. I though Marco Asensio played very well today. He had some great passes going forward and did well tracking back. He didn’t shine defensively but he occupied space, which is often enough for a winger to do. Bale worked hard on the right but his first touch let him down in the first half and in the second, he didn’t get on the ball enough. Eibar was pressing our midfield and back line hard though, and we struggled to play vertical passes. This is also why Benzema was anonymous during this game and why we tried to play so many long balls, to relieve the pressure, but also catch Eiber upfield. If Benzema had held himself onside, we might have had a couple of goals there. I have criticized Bale for staying up and not dropping deep to play the ball, but when we need to break a press like this, the better option is for him to stay high so we can use his pace on the break, as he is significantly faster than Benzema. But these tactical changes were never made. The one change that was made was Vinicius in for Marco. Again, not changing our shape. A like-for-like substitution. And one for a player that was arguably our best in the top line. Subbing mistake number three.

That brings us to the last person who did not have a good game and that was Solari. I want to be clear, managers are also allowed to have bad games. I know I keep going back to it, but in leg 2 of our Bayern Munich game last year, Zidane had a bad game. He made tactical mistakes and we got through mostly because our players worked hard and we got a bit lucky. This is not the season of luck. It, unfortunately, is also not the season of our players working hard. I don’t want that to sound harsh. I still love our players. But they came out of half time with no desire to turn the game around. I don’t know what Solari said in that dressing room but he just failed his second test as Real Madrid manager. Zidane also fell into similar traps. Now in the Bayern game I keep referencing, Zidane brought on Vazquez in an emergency to replace Carvajal, and left him there for leg 2 where he was overrun. Similar to how Ceballos was brought on in emergency, left there for the next game, and was overrun. This happened again with Kovacic, who was so effective last year in the 5-1 aggregate victory over Barcelona, and Zidane tried Kovacic their again in the league and he was overrun, we lost 3-0. I’m not going to discount Solari because of this game. I liked changes he made in other games. He likely fell into the same trap of playing these tried and true players, when right now, we need to stir the pot a bit. His next test is what he will do next. He tasted bad luck. He tasted defeat. Now, let’s see if he can actually fix anything, instead of just trying the same thing like Lopetegui did.

Alright, I said I would be optimistic and I feel like I haven’t been. Before this game, Real Madrid had lost the ball the least amount of times in La Liga. I know, I was surprised too. I don’t think it is the case after this game, though. Our passing was sloppy and we couldn’t string multiple passes together. Now, of course this was due to Eibar’s press which was very well executed. I wouldn’t be surprised if Eibar spent the last two weeks of the international break working on that press and an offside trap. Now, Real Madrid was coming back from an international break and it is a well known fact that both Barcelona and Real Madrid struggle after international breaks. Maybe it is because of the way they play, passing and moving, having to be so in tune with your teammates. And an international break disrupts this rhythm. That was working against us. Also, the pitch was shorter than normal fields. You could tell this in some of the through balls played, when Eibar’s keeper would simply appear and it was so easy for him to collect. It is difficult for passing teams like Real Madrid to play on Eibar’s pitch because it is smaller and more confined. Eibar are used to it, Real Madrid were not.

With a win we could have gone to second in La Liga. But we did not deserve a win today. But this just goes to show how close the table is this season. We still have every chance of moving up in the weeks to come, but really, I can’t tell if we want it. We will have to play with desire, with heart, with the determination to win. We missed that today. And that shouldn’t be something that is missing in the first place.

This was a rough wake up call, but a reminder that not everything is fixed about this team because of a managerial change. We are still suffering injuries. Some of our players seem to also struggle to bounce back from injury. But here’s the strange thing: everyone on the team has has at least one good game. We are just all having good games on different days. If we find consistency and figure out how to have good games on the same day, this team could really come together.

I’ll always love this team and this club. Even when they frustrate and disappoint me. We play Roma this week. It could be a good game, or it could be another bad one. But if I was so sure on which team would win every game, what would be the point in watching football?

#real madrid #sergio ramos #luka modric #marcelo #raphael varane #dani carvajal #alvaro odriozola #toni kroos #dani ceballos #isco alarcon #isco #gareh bale #karim benzema #marco asensio #vinicius jr #vinicius #match analysis #11/23/18 #wow i am sorry this is sooooo long

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pikashadow · 5 years

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Toward That Summer Sky a Diamond no Ace fanfiction

Rating: T

Pairing: Sawamura/Narumiya (Established Relationship)

Words: 6,864

Plot: Sawamura meets up with Narumiya after the Seidou and Ichidai Sankou semifinal game. While he isn’t initially pleased to meet up with him, he realizes something after meeting up with him.

Set during the spring tournament of Sawamura’s second year. It starts after Seidou’s game with Ichidai Sankou, and it finishes after Inashiro’s game with Teitou.

Spoilers for Act II chapters 43-49.

A.N.: So while I will always love Miyusawa, I recently fell in love with Meisawa. My brain refused to stop thinking about plot bunnies for them.

So y’all get a story about them.

(This is my first time writing Meisawa, and I’m a little nervous about how I wrote them. Hopefully, they aren’t too out of character.

This was meant to be 1000-2000 words. I failed.

This was supposed to be a one shot, but I might continue if plot bunnies help me with the other chapters.)

I couldn’t fit it in the story itself, but Sawamura still met Amahisa in the hallway with Amahisa bugging him about his pitches. And they still exchanged LINE contact information.

I hope y’all enjoy it!

They lost.

Despite Sawamura performing well not only in pitching but also batting (much to the surprise of his teammates) …

Seidou lost.

As much as he tried to help his team, he couldn’t do anything to help them win.

Sure, his pitching was the reason why Ichidai Sankou stopped at five runs in the fifth inning, effectively putting a stop to Ichidai Sankou’s momentum and not allowing even a hit in the later innings.

And he even managed to hit a double off Amahisa Kousei, Ichidai Sankou’s ace.

While most people would feel satisfied with their performance, he didn’t feel any satisfaction.

At all.

It would’ve been better if he managed to hit a home run.

Maybe that would’ve helped his team win.

And while he still felt irritated, frustrated, and disappointed about Furuya Satoru’s performance; he knew most of those emotions were directed toward himself.

If he had been more reliable as a pitcher, that pitcher substitution would’ve come earlier.

So it was his fault they lost.

Not Ace-sama’s.

His.

ZZZ

Sawamura thanked Kominato Haruichi for helping him with his cooldown in a quiet voice, already heading in the direction of the dugout to grab his bag and an ice pack for his shoulder, oblivious to his closest friend’s concerned look.

It wasn’t until after he put on the ice pack and buttoned his jersey that he registered that they had company.

He looked away from his bag, noticing Inashiro players already making their way through the door and setting their bags down.

Some of them noticed him, catching his eye and bowing their heads politely.

Judging by how polite they were, maybe they were Inashiro’s reserve players?

They probably didn’t even know who he was, only recognizing his Seidou uniform.

And while that thought made his blood boil, he knew he couldn’t do anything about that now.

He bowed his head, exchanging the polite greeting.

Not in the mood to be scolded for lingering too long, he quickly picked up his bag and headed in the direction of the exit.

But if Inashiro was playing, then that meant…

He paused by the exit, eyes already looking around the dugout for a familiar blond.

His eyes widened as blue eyes immediately locked onto his from the field.

Narumiya Mei had a frown on his face, but upon noticing that he managed to lock eyes with him, jerked his head in the direction of the dugout door.

He did it quickly, making Sawamura blink.

He continued to watch as Narumiya held up two fingers, causing him to squint and wonder if his eyes were working properly.

Was that… a victory sign?

At first, he thought Narumiya was telling him to leave and that Inashiro would win, unable to stop the irritation at the blond’s arrogance.

But it quickly died as Narumiya pointed to himself and jerked his head once more.

Was he… Was he telling him that he wanted him to wait for him?

Oh.

His heart couldn’t help but race at the thought, mind already remembering the last time he saw him.

It had been a while since they could meet.

Narumiya narrowed his eyes, making him belatedly realize he was probably taking too long to reply.

Sawamura flashed a small sheepish smile, nodding.

As soon as Narumiya had his reply, he smirked as he shooed him away with one hand, already turning back to his warmup without a second glance in his direction.

Sawamura huffed, tempted to yell at Inashiro’s ace.

He wasn’t a dog!

But as much as he felt tempted, he really wasn’t in the mood to start yelling.

Which was odd behavior for him.

But he was allowed to feel upset about the loss, and anyone who thought differently clearly didn’t know him that well (or had never lost before).

Grumbling about the ace’s behavior, he promptly turned around and exited the dugout.

ZZZ

Sawamura tapped his foot, impatiently waiting for Narumiya.

He had decided to wait in the room behind the bench, not wanting the other pitcher to walk too far away from his team.

The longer he waited, the more irritated he felt, though.

Of course, he understood that the other pitcher was in the middle of his warmup.

And normally, he wouldn’t mind waiting.

If it were under different circumstances.

His teammates were probably looking for him, and while he really wanted to see Narumiya, this wasn’t the time or place to do it.

For a few moments, he entertained the idea of leaving.

The other pitcher didn’t tell him to wait a specific amount of time. He just held up two fingers, somehow expecting him to understand.

What did that even mean?

Was he supposed to wait two minutes?

Two hours?

Or maybe he meant that he would meet him after the game was over?

But despite entertaining the idea of leaving, he stayed put.

He wasn’t staying put because Narumiya told him to, though.

He was waiting for Narumiya because he wanted to.

There was a difference.

But still…

That didn’t mean he was alright with waiting an unknown amount of time for him.

Especially when he wasn’t in the mood to deal with his boyfriend’s antics.

His boyfriend could be very childish at times. Other times, he was, to put it bluntly, a jerk.

But at the same time, it had been months since they had last seen each other.

And while he enjoyed texting him and hearing his voice over the phone, it wasn’t the same.

He definitely preferred meeting in person rather than having to rely on his phone to speak to him.

But both were always busy with baseball practice and could never find time to meet up. He couldn’t remember the last time he and his boyfriend had the same day off.

Which was why they had to make the most of small moments like these.

If he was honest, they were never enough.

He wanted to see his boyfriend more.

… Not that he would ever tell him that.

That would only boost his boyfriend’s already huge ego.

Which was the last thing Sawamura wanted.

When a few more moments passed, his eye twitched, tempted to leave and try to catch up with his boyfriend later.

Who did his boyfriend think he was?

If he said that in his boyfriend’s presence, his boyfriend would probably reply that he was the best southpaw of the Kanto region, winking cheekily at him for good measure.

… This was ridiculous.

He was ridiculous for waiting this long.

Just as he was about to start heading out, someone opened the door, making him blink at the light that entered the dark room.

A familiar blond stepped into the room, looking around for his boyfriend and frowning at how dark it was.

Upon spotting him, he let the door close behind him and walked over.

Sawamura watched as the other pitcher stopped a few feet away, unable to stop himself from narrowing his eyes.

And he probably would’ve scolded him for keeping him waiting if Narumiya didn’t beat him to it.

“Are you alright?”

Out of everything he could’ve asked or even said, he chose to ask that?

Tempted to laugh humorlessly, he shook his head. “Do I look okay? We lost!”

He would’ve continued speaking if it wasn’t for Narumiya stepping into his personal space and nodding.

“I know. I was looking forward to playing against Seidou again,” Narumiya said, giving him a pointed look, as if letting him know exactly who he had wanted to face off against. A smirk quickly formed, causing Sawamura to look at him suspiciously. “Not that you’re ready for a duel with me.”

And while the thought of his boyfriend wanting to have a pitching duel with him made him feel warm inside and… recognized, his mind immediately latched onto the latter half of what he said.

“Hah?! I’ve improved a lot since the last time we played each other, you know?” He stepped closer, jabbing his boyfriend’s chest with a finger.

Narumiya’s smirk remained on his face, unaffected by his response. If anything, he looked amused, annoying him even further. “It didn’t look that way at Koshien.” He held back the urge to laugh as the younger boy’s cheeks flushed red.

Sawamura wanted to hate the way that smirk made Narumiya more attractive than he already was. “That isn’t true! My pitching was great at Koshien!”

… For the most part.

“Who said anything about your pitching?” Narumiya couldn’t stop the laugh at his confused look. “I was talking about how you fell flat on your face.” He watched, amused as Sawamura’s whole face turned red.

“I suppose that’s one way to get your name out there. I would’ve done it with my pitching, though.” He paused deliberately. “But you already know that I did do that.”

Sawamura’s eye twitched, hands twitching at his sides, reminding himself that it wasn’t right to punch his boyfriend.

No matter how irritating and cocky he was.

He would be the more mature of the two.

Like always.

“How could I forget? You kept texting me updates.” He looked away, scowling. “Bet you enjoyed the attention, Prince of the Capital-sama.”

Narumiya grinned, looking pleased. “You were probably paying attention to any news with my name in it anyway.” His grin widened as the other pitcher looked back at him and glowered. “It was nice to receive all that attention from my fans.”

An impish gleam entered his eyes, causing Sawamura to give him a suspicious look. “It’s no surprise that I received a lot of attention from my female fans, but I also received a lot of attention from my male fans.”

Sawamura’s hands formed fists and visibly shook, reminding himself for the second time that it wasn’t right or mature if he punched the older boy.

… No matter how good it would make him feel.

He was trying to be the mature one here.

“Oh? Well, good for you. It’s too bad you’re too busy to interact with them,” he spat.

Narumiya reached out and placed his hand on the other’s shoulder, laughing as Sawamura immediately shrugged him off. “Someone’s jealous.” He barely stopped himself from snickering as the other pitcher squawked a protest.

He didn’t need to voice out loud that Sawamura had nothing to worry about.

He liked Sawamura. Not any of his fans.

But he couldn’t help but tease him, enjoying how easy it was to rile him up. “Speaking of that ‘Prince of the Capital’ title… I’m not a prince anymore. I’m the king.”

… He didn’t care about being the mature one.

Sawamura was going to punch that cocky smirk off his rival’s face.

Belatedly remembering at the last minute to use his nondominant hand, he raised his fist.

But Narumiya effortlessly thwarted his plan by leaning in and kissing him on the lips.

He froze, eyes widening at the contact.

It certainly wasn’t his first kiss, or his first time being kissed by his rival.

But he couldn’t help but be surprised, his reaction time slow due to being thrown off guard.

And while a part of him wasn’t in the mood to deal with a smug Narumiya, which he knew would happen if he kissed back, a larger part of him didn’t care, only registering that his boyfriend was kissing him.

He placed his hands on his shoulders and responded to the kiss.

… Or he would’ve if Narumiya hadn’t pulled away, an impish gleam in his eyes.

The impish gleam immediately made Sawamura suspicious, wondering if it was still possible to pretend that he didn’t enjoy the kiss.

To his embarrassment, he couldn’t stop the surprised noise from escaping as his rival pulled him an inch closer, belatedly realizing that Narumiya’s arms were around his waist now.

When did that happen?

As if he could read his mind, Narumiya snickered. “Enjoy that, did you?”

Sawamura narrowed his eyes at the smug smirk on his rival’s face, wanting to hate the way his body reacted to Narumiya and his smirks. “Jerk. I hate you.”

To his annoyance, Narumiya only laughed. “Not what you said this morning.” His grin grew as Sawamura’s cheeks flushed red.

Sawamura was beginning to think that meeting his boyfriend was a mistake.

He should’ve left when he had the chance.

His hands moved from his rival’s shoulders to his chest, attempting to push him away. “S-Shut up! Let go!”

Narumiya shook his head, tightening his grip. “I don’t want to.”

Sawamura growled, about to try and punch his boyfriend again.

But dark blue eyes caught his attention, making him freeze.

He recognized those eyes.

Whenever his rival stood on the mound, he had those eyes. Those eyes could easily inflict fear into weaker pitchers. Those eyes always made goosebumps form, knowing that he was about to witness his boyfriend’s pitching.

And those eyes were the same ones that challenged him to catch up to him.

It didn’t matter if the sun was out or not.

Those eyes tended to glow a dark blue color, and while he could remember a few times where those eyes resembled mini storm clouds, those glowing eyes tended to demand only one thing.

His attention.

(He didn’t know whether Narumiya did that knowingly or not.

But if he had to guess, he would say that Narumiya definitely did it knowingly.

That guy enjoyed competing with him and winning against him.

Not to mention, he knew that Narumiya would always feel smug at noticing that he got his attention.

It drove him crazy because he was always falling for it.)

Other pitchers had mentioned being afraid of Narumiya and wanting to stay away from him at the sight of his dark blue eyes.

But Sawamura couldn’t stay away.

Nor would he want to.

Just like how those bright blue eyes demanded his attention with the sun out, those dark blue eyes drew him in like a fisherman reeling in a fish.

And while being on the receiving end of those dark blue (other times a bright blue) eyes made his mouth dry up, he wouldn’t trade that attention for anything in the world.

Narumiya’s smirk disappeared, furrowing his eyebrows and looking confused at the lack of response. While he enjoyed the speechless reaction he received at first, he felt confused (and a little worried although he wouldn’t admit that out loud) at his boyfriend’s continued lack of response.

Sawamura kept staring at him for some reason.

And while he already knew he was attractive, he had to wonder if something else besides his good looks caused Sawamura’s speechlessness.

… Which really didn’t make sense.

Because he was Narumiya Mei and Sawamura’s boyfriend.

(Not that that seemed to matter much to Sawamura. The younger boy had no problem declaring that he wasn’t anything special and wouldn’t hesitate to insult him despite being younger than him.)

But whatever.

He was about to scold Sawamura for not paying attention when he was there with him, but Sawamura beat him to it.

“Narumiya’s attractive!” Sawamura burst out, face red. As he watched his boyfriend’s cheeks flush at the rare compliment, he belatedly registered what he said and looked away, calling himself an idiot for speaking without thinking.

Narumiya grinned, pleased at his boyfriend’s compliment. His laughter made Sawamura look back at him, narrowing his eyes. “I already knew that, but I’m glad you think so.”

Sawamura wanted to hit himself for speaking without thinking.

He really should’ve left when he had the chance.

“D-Don’t get cocky! I didn’t mean it!” he lied, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

But he could already tell by the other’s raised eyebrows and smug smirk that he didn’t believe him.

Cocky jerk.

Narumiya leaned in close, an impish gleam in his eyes. He tilted his head and kissed his cheek, grinning as he pulled away. “You are the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

He paused before leaning in close to his ear, ignoring Sawamura’s weak protests. “And you can’t take it back, Ei-jun.”

Sawamura couldn’t help but shiver at how his rival said his name, belatedly noticing the use of his given name.

He wanted to hate the way his given name sounded on his lips.

Narumiya pulled away to look into his eyes, no doubt having felt his reaction and unable to stop the smug smirk.

The worse part was that the cocky jerk knew he would react like that.

He probably would’ve opened his mouth to deny his reaction or make an excuse.

(Maybe he could say that Narumiya’s eyes were going bad?)

But before he could, Narumiya’s eyes darkened, one hand reaching up to slide around the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

He gasped, immediately pressing forward into Narumiya’s arms as warmth grew inside his chest.

Their kisses were always intense, and a part of Sawamura felt worried that he enjoyed these kisses a little too much.

His boyfriend’s presence and proximity made his skin heat up, barely registering the temperature of the ice pack on his left shoulder.

A few moments later, Narumiya pulled away from the kiss, smirking his normal smirk.

No doubt, he was about to say something cocky that would anger him.

So instead of giving him the chance, Sawamura grinned devilishly, a gleam in his eyes.

It immediately had the intended effect, Narumiya’s eyebrows furrowing at the rare sight.

(Narumiya would never admit out loud how that devilish grin and gleam in his eyes suited him a little too well.

And that he hung out with a certain cunning catcher too much. To the point that he was starting to influence his boyfriend.)

But before he could speak, Sawamura took the initiative and kissed him.

Sawamura grinned wider as his rival responded to the kiss, tempted to yell his signature cheers.

He probably would’ve deepened the kiss, but he belatedly registered where they were.

And what occasion it was.

Despite remembering, it was still a long moment before he pulled away with a sigh, leaning back to look his rival in the eyes.

Narumiya frowned as he pulled away, his frown deepening at the sigh.

That was not the reaction Sawamura should have after kissing him.

(And managing to catch him off guard.

… Not that he would ever admit that to him.)

“You should go,” Sawamura murmured, unable to stop the disappointed look from appearing. If it were any other occasion, he would’ve laughed at Narumiya’s confused look. “Inashiro’s match? You guys are playing against Teitou?” he reminded.

Narumiya hummed, leaning in to press a kiss on his chin. He snickered as Sawamura spluttered, not making any sense. “I can make them wait for however long I want. I’m the ace,” he said, puffing his chest out and making Sawamura roll his eyes.

“But you’re probably right. Are you going to watch?” He paused before adding something he knew would affect his decision. “I’m pitching, you know?”

Sawamura shook his head, almost snorting.

As if the thought of Narumiya pitching had any effect on his decision.

(It did. It really did.

He enjoyed it whenever he had the opportunity to watch him pitch.

And not only that, but he would get to watch him pitch live, sitting in the stands with the rest of Seidou.

It always felt exciting and, if he were honest, awe-inspiring whenever he watched him live.

Plus, it had been a while since he got to watch his boyfriend pitch live.

He was really looking forward to it.)

Not wanting to feed Narumiya’s ego, he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

He had the perfect excuse.

“I think I’ll go back to Seidou and practice my batting.”

Narumiya laughed, giving him an unimpressed look. “While I know you need all the batting practice you can get,” he said, smirking as Sawamura narrowed his eyes. “I already told you that you are the worst liar I’ve ever met, Ei-jun.”

Sawamura couldn’t suppress a shiver, hating how good his given name sounded coming off the other pitcher’s lips.

His cheeks flushed as Narumiya snickered.

“S-Stop saying my name like that,” he protested, although both knew it was a weak one.

Narumiya leaned in close, an impish gleam in his eyes. “Why? I know you love it.”

Sawamura huffed, a scowl on his face as he tried to break free to little avail.

He wasn’t stupid.

He knew what Narumiya was trying to do.

“Quit stalling! Hurry up and go!”

But his rival ignored him and placed a featherlight kiss on the top of his nose, making him huff once more. “You’re so mean. You should speak to me with more respect.”

Sawamura growled, trying to break free once more.

He was about to kick him in the shin and tell him where he could shove his respect.

But Narumiya finally let go of his waist, instead placing his hands on his shoulders. “You’re going to watch me pitch, right?”

“I already told you! I’m going back—”

“Eijun.”

Sawamura glowered, tempted to yell at him.

Using his given name like that was a low blow.

“… Fine. I’m watching it with the rest of Seidou.”

Narumiya grinned, blue eyes sparkling. One of his hands reached up to pat him on the head. “Good boy.”

He laughed as Sawamura shoved his hand off, growling at him.

“I’m not a dog, damn it!”

Before he could reply, Sawamura jabbed his chest with a finger. “You better not lose.”

Narumiya scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m the best southpaw of the Kanto region. I don’t lose.”

Sawamura wisely chose not to bring up how Inashiro failed to win Koshien last summer.

Or their most recent loss against Ugumori in the fall tournament.

“You will during the summer tournament.”

Narumiya blinked at the determined look on his face. His lips quickly formed a condescending smirk, finally removing his hands from his shoulders. “Oh? And who will defeat us? Seidou?”

“That’s right! This time, Seidou will win. And I’ll be the one who leads us to victory. As Seidou’s ace.”

Narumiya laughed, waving one of his hands flippantly. “You always say that. How about this time you actually prove it?”

Sawamura growled, annoyed with how Narumiya wasn’t taking this seriously. “Fine! I will! When I become the ace, I’ll prove you wrong. And beat you in the summer tournament.”

His boyfriend scoffed. “I’d like to see you try, brat.” He paused. “If you become the ace, that is.”

Sawamura’s hands formed fists and visibly shook, reminding himself (yet again) that it wasn’t right to punch him.

… Even if he was being such a disrespectful jerk.

“I will become the ace! I’ve been working hard, and I intend to work harder to make it happen.”

Narumiya shook his head, his smirk returning to his face. “Don’t work too hard, or you’ll collapse. Again.” He felt amused as Sawamura’s eyes widened, letting out a surprised noise.

“That only happened once!” he burst out. Registering belatedly what he said, he coughed, trying to look innocent. “I-I mean… That never happened!”

Narumiya raised his eyebrows, looking unimpressed.

He huffed, almost pouting. “How did you find out?”

For a few moments, Narumiya debated not telling him. It would be easier and a lot more fun for him.

Finally, he gave in, holding up one of his hands to mimic a cell phone.

When Sawamura’s baffled look remained on his face, he shook his head. “Seidou has a spy. A very sneaky spy who reports to me about you.”

Sawamura furrowed his eyebrows.

That didn’t sound like any of his teammates.

Who would have the audacity to spy on him and report to Narumiya of all people?

It had to be someone with ties to him.

… Hang on. Ties?

His eyes widened, remembering that there was someone who had ties to him at Seidou.

Narumiya snickered as he watched him think about it, amused he was taking this long to figure it out.

It was obvious once someone thought about it.

… But then again, his boyfriend was an idiot.

“That… That sneaky jerk… I could kill Miyuki Kazuya!” Sawamura seethed, tempted to punch Miyuki instead of his boyfriend.

… Or he could punch them both?

Narumiya nodded, laughing at his reaction. “Go ahead. Tell him I said hello.”

Yeah. Punching them both sounded like a great idea.

(And while he knew Miyuki only did it because he was concerned about him, he really didn’t need to tell Narumiya of all people. Sawamura didn’t tell him because he didn’t want to worry him.)

“Shut up. I don’t need you to worry about me. Concentrate on your pitching. Teitou is a tough opponent.”

Narumiya scoffed. “That should be my line. Especially if you want to become the ace.” He paused. “And maybe Seidou struggled, but we’re Inashiro. We’ll easily win.”

Sawamura doubted that, but for once, he didn’t retort.

He couldn’t help but let out a sigh, knowing that he had kept his boyfriend for too long.

Before Narumiya could speak, his hands pushed gently at his chest. “You should go. Your team is waiting for their ace.”

And it seemed as those were the magic words as Narumiya’s eyes sparkled, cheeks flushing and puffing his chest out. “I’ll make sure to put on a good show.” He winked cheekily. “Just for you.”

Sawamura’s cheeks flushed pink, this time shoving him. “I told you to stop saying stuff like that! Hurry up and go!”

Narumiya only laughed, leaning in to ruffle his hair and give him one last kiss on the cheek.

And to Sawamura’s irritation, he turned around and started walking away.

He waited for several moments before calling out to him.

“Mei, wait!”

Narumiya stopped walking and turned around, eyebrows furrowing. A grin quickly formed as he registered that his boyfriend had used his given name.

But before he could tease him, Sawamura quickly crossed the distance that separated them, grabbed him by the front of his uniform and kissed him on the lips.

Sawamura grinned as his rival responded eagerly.

That grin disappeared the next moment as Narumiya teased his mouth open, wordlessly challenging him.

And when it came to a fight or any type of challenge with Narumiya, he wasn’t going to roll over and just let him win.

Refusing to lose, he kissed him with as much passion as Narumiya was giving him.

Sawamura’s body trembled as Narumiya’s tongue darted out and licked his lower lip, feeling grateful he was holding onto his uniform as he knew his knees would go weak at the motion.

Feeling him tremble (and no doubt reading his mind), Narumiya smirked into the kiss, making him frown.

And Sawamura would’ve pulled away and protested, but Narumiya gently nibbling his lower lip made him have second thoughts.

Sawamura tilted his head, closing his eyes and pressing closer to his rival’s body.

Narumiya hummed, approving the action and darted his tongue out once more. He licked Sawamura’s lower lip, silently asking permission. Sawamura slowly parted his lips, allowing Narumiya’s tongue inside his mouth.

Sawamura moaned as Narumiya’s tongue moved inside his mouth, touching different parts of his mouth. It was a little ticklish, but at the same time, it felt like something was burning inside him with every touch. Narumiya playfully touched his tongue with his own, teasing him and coaxing him to respond.

Sawamura responded eagerly, trying to match Narumiya’s passionate and brisk pace.

Narumiya’s exploration of his mouth was making him breathless. It was unfair how good Narumiya’s kisses made him feel, and it was unfair how that cocky jerk mercilessly used that to his advantage.

But as much as he wanted to continue kissing Narumiya, his body protested at the lack of air, making him lightheaded and forcing him to pull away reluctantly.

Their breathing was erratic, and both boy’s cheeks were pink.

Brown dazed eyes opened, looking at Narumiya. He struggled to catch his breath, still feeling lightheaded and weak in the knees. “Mei…”

To his annoyance, Narumiya only smirked a smug smirk.

Determined to regain some of his usual composure, Sawamura quickly let go, glaring at him.

His legs were still a little shaky, but thankfully, they were strong enough to keep him up.

If his knees had given out, there was no telling how smug his boyfriend would get. And he really didn’t want to boost his boyfriend’s ego more than he already did.

He pointed at him. “D-Don’t misunderstand! I was just wishing you luck!”

Narumiya snickered, shaking his head. “I don’t need luck to win.” His smirk remained on his face as Sawamura glowered at him. “I’ll thank you for the kiss, though.” He winked cheekily. “Feel free to do that again sometime soon.”

“I don’t want to! Now go!”

Narumiya laughed, tempted to point out that he knew it was a lie.

But for once, though, Sawamura had a point.

He should probably get back to his team.

He leaned in to ruffle Sawamura’s hair, grinning as his boyfriend shoved his hand away.

Sawamura watched as Narumiya turned around and walked away, unable to stop himself from admiring the number one on the back of his jersey.

He unconsciously reached out with his left hand.

If Seidou had won their semifinal match, they would’ve played against Inashiro in the finals.

And while Sawamura didn’t know who the coach would’ve picked as the starting pitcher, he found himself wishing he could pitch against Inashiro. And Narumiya.

He stared at his pitching hand closely.

Could he reach Narumiya as he was right now?

Could he give Inashiro and Narumiya a tough time with his current pitches?

His left hand formed a fist, as if he was trying to grab the number one on the other pitcher’s back.

He wanted to know.

He wanted to fight it out with him again.

Deep down, though, he knew.

To become the ace, he had to get stronger.

He couldn’t stay as he was right now.

Not if he wanted Miyuki to acknowledge him.

And not if he wanted to fight on the same level as Narumiya.

The thought of fighting it out with him during the summer tournament as the ace of their respective schools…

It gave him goosebumps, his hands twitching with uncontrolled excitement.

Narumiya stopped in front of the door leading to the field and turned around.

Sawamura belatedly registered what he was doing.

His face turned dark red at Narumiya’s raised eyebrows, immediately jerking his arm back to his side.

Narumiya tried not to laugh.

He really did.

But he couldn’t stop it from escaping at the other pitcher’s face. Sawamura’s ears were red too, making him think of when his boyfriend fell flat on his face during Koshien.

He snickered, looking way too amused at Sawamura’s slipup. “What are you doing?”

Sawamura felt like one of his favorite shoujo heroines who had embarrassed herself in front of her crush.

The worst part was that he couldn’t think of anything good to say.

“A-Ah. I was just seeing if my hand could reach you.”

… And of course, he chose to go with the truth.

Why now of all times?

Narumiya burst into laughter, shaking his head at Sawamura’s stupidity. “You idiot. Of course your hand can’t reach if you’re that far away.”

Sawamura wasn’t sure how to feel, knowing that his boyfriend took his words literally.

But knowing that he was holding him up, he coughed, turning around. “S-Shut up! I know that. I’m leaving.”

He started walking over to the exit that led back inside the stadium.

What was he thinking?

Of course Narumiya would take his words literally.

He shook his head, a humorless smile on his face.

His boyfriend wasn’t the ‘comforting’ type of person anyway.

“Eijun.”

He paused by the exit, unable to stop himself from turning around at the sound of his given name.

Narumiya stared at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Sawamura found his breath catching, mouth drying up at his dark blue eyes.

Silence enfolded them, Sawamura belatedly registering the sounds of Inashiro players yelling encouragements and getting ready just outside the room.

Just as he was about to remind Inashiro’s ace that he had to go, Narumiya shook his head, a serious expression making its way onto his face.

“We still have a few months until the summer tournament starts.”

Sawamura furrowed his eyebrows, confused at the seemingly random comment.

“… Yeah. Why are you talking about that all of a sudden?”

Narumiya ignored him. “Both of our teams will have enough time to get stronger.”

Was Sawamura missing something?

He didn’t understand what the other pitcher was trying to say.

“That’s how it works. I’ll get stronger and become the ace!”

“I don’t lose. And I don’t plan on losing during the summer tournament,” Narumiya said, ignoring him again much to Sawamura’s annoyance.

“A lot can happen before the summer tournament starts. Such as injuries.” His lips formed a condescending smirk. “But Seidou would know all about that, wouldn’t they?”

Sawamura hissed like a cat, tempted to walk over and punch that smirk off his rival’s face.

That was really disrespectful to his senpai who already graduated.

And Narumiya had the nerve to say that he was the disrespectful one.

“Are you picking a fight with me, bastard?” he roared.

Narumiya turned around, seemingly done with the conversation.

… Which infuriated him, considering what he just said.

“Oi, Narumiya Mei! Wait!”

He wasn’t allowed to leave after disrespecting his senpai like that.

Narumiya placed his hand on the doorknob, but instead of turning it, he turned his head back to look at him.

He looked unfazed by Sawamura’s attempt at imitating an angry kitten. “I suppose another thing that could happen is switching jersey numbers.” His smirk returned to his face. “Although I’m sure Furuya will be the ace again.”

Sawamura’s mind immediately latched onto the latter half of what he said, not even registering the former half.

He was really starting to regret not punching him earlier.

“Hah?! Why don’t you say that again, you jerk? I will become the ace!”

But Narumiya only shook his head, looking amused. “I’ll look for you in the stands, Ei-jun,” he said, smirking as he saw the noticeable shiver. “Text me once you get back to Seidou.”

“Who would?! I don’t want to see your face ever again!”

Narumiya snickered, and after tossing him a knowing look, he turned the doorknob and left him alone.

Sawamura seethed, his hands trembling by his sides.

He could still feel the hot anger coursing through his veins.

Who did he think he was?

After disrespecting not only him, but also his senpai, he had to become the ace.

It would be a nice way to shut that cocky disrespectful jerk up.

Letting out a yell, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

He walked down the hallway, a dark look on his face.

… Only to register his missing bag.

Face burning with embarrassment and grateful no one loitered in the hallway to witness his mistake, he turned around, hurriedly retracing his steps and grabbing his bag.

He paused by the exit, turning to look at where his so-called boyfriend stood and disrespected his senpai and his team.

And him for that matter.

Narrowing his eyes, he turned around and exited the room, tightening his grip on his bag’s strap.

He really should’ve punched him earlier.

ZZZ

Sawamura huffed as he sat in the stands, watching Inashiro and Teitou play.

Thankfully, he didn’t miss any of the game.

To his surprise, his teammates didn’t come looking for him, no doubt knowing he could take care of himself.

Miyuki had the nerve to send him a knowing look, though.

And while he would normally yell at him and cause a scene, he wasn’t in the mood.

So after shooting him a glower, he proceeded to ignore him.

(He hadn’t forgotten that Miyuki told Narumiya about him collapsing.

And while a part of him wanted to punch Miyuki, he decided against it.

But he would hold a grudge until Miyuki apologized to him.)

Instead of sitting with his teammates, he sat away from them, watching the game closely.

It helped that he had a better view of the game from where he sat.

And he didn’t hesitate to say so when Kuramochi Youichi invited him to sit with the rest of Seidou.

He scowled, almost growling as Inashiro’s ace struck out three batters flawlessly then proceeded to look up at the stands.

No doubt, he was looking for him.

Well, he refused to give his boyfriend that satisfaction.

He still felt the anger from earlier and was determined to ignore him.

(Not that Narumiya could see him from where he was.)

As the game continued, though, the part of him not clouded by anger slowly began taking over.

He would never admit it to his boyfriend, but it felt great watching him pitch live.

It wasn’t the same when he watched him pitch on the television.

A part of him hated to admit it even to himself, but…

His boyfriend was so cool.

He wanted to become an amazing ace.

Like him.

He would never be as cocky as him, though.

The corner of his lips curled up as he watched Teitou score a home run off Narumiya.

Serves him right.

After that, Narumiya didn’t look up at the stands, no doubt concentrating on his pitching and fully committed to shutting Teitou down.

The game quickly reached the eighth inning.

Where Teitou’s ace stood in the way of Inashiro winning.

His eyes widened as he watched Narumiya throw his whole repertoire to Teitou’s ace, shutting him down with all his might.

A frown formed on his lips, but much to his irritation, his lips twitched, threatening to burst into a smile.

That little showoff.

Narumiya looked up at the stands, dark blue eyes looking up at the Seidou players.

This time, Sawamura couldn’t stop the smile.

He still refused to call out and give him that satisfaction, though.

Watching his boyfriend pitch had put him in a better mood.

And he couldn’t help but point out how cool he was to Haruichi.

But he didn’t mention him by name.

He just said that an ace had to be cool.

As he sat on the bus heading back to Seidou, he reflected on his day.

While he still felt upset about losing, he refused to dwell on it.

He would use that frustration to get stronger.

Then he thought about Inashiro’s ace.

For a few moments, he debated not texting him.

It would serve him right after making him angry like that.

… And yet, he found himself reaching for his phone and sending off a quick text once he returned to Seidou grounds.

He was about to review his pitching from that day’s game, determined to gain something from it.

Only to remember his boyfriend’s odd behavior right before he left.

He mentioned the summer tournament, and he disrespected his senpai, Seidou, and him.

But he also mentioned something about the ace number.

Sawamura hadn’t paid much attention to the former half of what Narumiya said, only paying attention to the part that angered him.

But now that he thought about it, what did Narumiya say?

A frown formed on his face as he tried to remember.

If he remembered correctly, Narumiya said something about the jersey numbers changing?

His eyes widened, the realization punching him in the gut and taking his breath away.

Narumiya couldn’t have meant what he thought, right?

There was no way.

Whenever he brought up becoming the ace before, Narumiya never took him seriously.

He never mentioned anything about believing in him and never encouraged him.

But it had to be what he thought because he didn’t know what else it could mean.

Narumiya actually believed that he could become the ace.

He believed that he could beat Furuya.

He reached out with his left hand, imagining Narumiya’s back with the visible number one in front of him.

But unlike all the other times where Narumiya would be far away, he could easily spot that familiar back.

Sawamura imagined himself running over and catching up to him, placing his left hand on the other pitcher’s back.

Narumiya would feel the hand (or maybe even sense his presence) and turn around.

What kind of expression would Narumiya show him?

His hand formed a fist, imagining himself grabbing Narumiya’s jersey.

He would do it.

He would become Seidou’s ace.

He would become Seidou’s ace, prove that he wasn’t all talk, and…

And fight it out against him during the summer tournament.

The thought of it made his hands shake in uncontrollable excitement.

Sawamura grinned, laughing loudly.

“Just you wait, Narumiya Mei. I will catch up to you.”

An evil grin formed on his face.

Oh, he was looking forward to the summer tournament now.

He would need to get stronger, of course, and actually become the ace.

But he couldn’t wait to dethrone the king.

#diamond no ace #daiya no ace #sawamura eijun #narumiya mei #meisawa #fanfictions #pikashadows writing

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stillunusual · 5 years

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LEEDS UNITED 4 WEST BROMWICH ALBION 0 Leeds United: Casilla, Ayling, Jansson, Cooper, Alioski, Phillips, Klich, Roberts (Shackleton 90+1), Hernandez, Harrison (Dallas 77), Bamford. Subs not used: Peacock-Farrell, Berardi, Douglas, Gotts, Brown. It was so great to be back at Elland Road to witness our best performance of the season so far - against a team full of players who were playing in the Premiership last season - especially as our form since I was last here has been patchy to say the least, allowing Norwich City and Sheffield United to move ahead of us into the automatic promotion places. Leeds were third in the league ahead of this game, with West Brom, Middlesbrough and our next opponents Bristol City just below us in the remaining play-off spots. As usual, plenty has happened both on and off the field over the last few weeks. The EFL and the Football Association both launched investigations into "spygate" on 15th January, after receiving complaints from Frank Lampard and Derby County about the fact that Marcelo Bielsa had sent an intern to observe one of their training sessions. The next day, Bielsa called a press conference, and rumours began circulating that he was about to resign. Instead he took on the EFL, FA and all his critics by first of all announcing that he had sent a staff member to observe training sessions held by every other Championship team this season. He then treated the assembled journalists to an hour long coaching masterclass about the meticulous way he prepares for games. Bielsa has a team of 20 people who spend literally hundreds of hours doing video analysis of each of United's opponents, which builds up a huge database of information on players, tactics and formations to the extent that he knows exactly how the opposing team is going to play. Bielsa's obsessive attention to detail is truly mind-blowing. Sending an intern to peak over an opponenet's fence isn't really necessary and doesn't tell him anything he doesn't already know, but it's always been something he's done to reassure himself that he's covered all the bases.... To every Leeds fan watching this matchless display of shithousery, genius and football madness it simply confirmed the extent to which Bielsa is already a Leeds United legend. He completely owned Lampard, as well as demonstrating that he probably knows more about Derby County's squad than fat Frank does. Sadly, his audacious honesty was mainly spun in a predictably negative way by the media and a couple of days later the EFL announced that 11 Championship clubs had written to them demanding a detailed investigation of the extent to which Bielsa had spied on them. The 11 clubs behind the letter were: Blackburn Rovers, Brentford, Bristol City (whose owner Steve Lansdown also made a public demand for a points deduction), Derby County, Hull City, Middlesbrough, Millwall, Norwich City, Nottingham Forest, Preston North End and Swansea City. The following clubs did not agree to back the complaint: Aston Villa, Birmingham City, Bolton Wanderers, Ipswich Town, Queens Park Rangers, Reading, Rotherham United, Sheffield United, Sheffield Wednesday, Stoke City, West Bromwich Albion and Wigan Athletic. It took the EFL over a month to decide that the appropriate punishment for Leeds United was a huge fine and a sanctimonious lecture. An EFL statement declared that: “After finalising its investigations into the incident at Derby County’s training ground on Thursday, January 10, the EFL reached the conclusion that the conduct undertaken by Leeds United in observing opponents’ training sessions is a breach of regulation 3.4. Leeds United has fully cooperated with the EFL’s inquiries and following a comprehensive review of all the evidence provided, the club has now formally admitted a breach of regulation 3.4. As a consequence, the club has been fined £200,000 (inclusive of a contribution to costs) and received a formal reprimand and warning to the effect that the club’s conduct fell significantly short of the standards expected by the EFL and must not be repeated. In addition, Leeds United has agreed to support a new EFL regulation that makes it clear that clubs will be expressly prohibited from viewing opposition training in the 72 hours immediately prior to a fixture, unless invited to do so. The EFL has informed all the Championship clubs who sought additional clarification regarding the conduct of Leeds United of the findings that relate to their club”....

Leeds United issued the following reply: “We accept that whilst we have not broken any specific rule, we have fallen short of the standard expected by the EFL with regards to regulation 3.4. We apologise for acting in a way that has been judged culturally unacceptable in the English game and would like to thank Shaun Harvey and the EFL for the manner in which they conducted their investigations. Our focus can now return to matters on the field”....

After the EFL made their announcement, the Football Association confirmed that they would not be taking any further action. Leeds United refrained from public comments while the EFL was making its deliberations, while being regularly pilloried in the media by various pundits and representatives of some of the other Championship clubs - which often included false claims about what had happened outside Derby’s training ground - and clearly took the view that it was better to accept the punishment and move on. At least there was no points deduction.... Leeds made two signings during the January transfer window - the first was goalkeeper Kiko Casilla, who joined from Real Madrid and immediately relegated Bailey Peacock-Farrell to the bench. The second was 17 year old midfielder Mateusz Bogusz from Ruch Chorzów - one for the future.... However, there was controversy on transfer deadline day when our apparently successful attempt to sign winger Daniel James from Swansea City dramatically fell through at the last moment. James, who wanted to come to Leeds, arrived in Yorkshire the night before, passed a medical at Thorp Arch and was driven to Elland Road around 6pm to complete the paperwork and go through the process of media interviews and photographs. Swansea owner Jason Levien is understood to have agreed the sale of James directly with Andrea Radrizzani. The deal was for Leeds to pay £1.5M to loan James until the end of the season with an obligation to buy the player in the summer, with the eventual fee dependent on whether or not Leeds achieved promotion to the Premiership. However, a late complication arose over United's initial intention to pay the £1.5m loan fee in June. Sources at United insisted they were willing to grant City’s late demand for £750,000 up front but were then met with silence from Swansea’s boardroom. Leeds claim that all attempts to communicate with Swansea in the last 90 minutes of the window were met with silence and as a result the deal could not be finalised. It later emerged that Swansea had pulled the plug on Leroy Fer's transfer to Aston Villa at the last moment in basically the same way. Swansea City are one of the 11 Championship clubs behind the letter accusing Leeds of breaching the obligations stated in the EFL's Regulation 3.4: “In all matters and transactions relating to The League each Club shall behave towards each other Club and The League with the utmost good faith”.... Swansea City chairman Huw Jenkins resigned 48 hours later. After the "spygate" saga began, Bielsa began revealing his starting line ups in advance during his pre-match press conferences. Next up after Derby County was an away game against Stoke City in which we didn't play very well and lost 2-1. Pontus Jansson was sent off after receiving two debatable yellow cards, earning himself a one match ban. This was followed by a 2-1 victory against Rotherham that set us up nicely for an encounter with promotion rivals Norwich City at Elland Road. It was the biggest game of the season for both clubs but didn't really live up to the hype and turned out to be a relatively comfortable victory for Norwich, who won 3-1. Leeds as usual had most of the possession, but not for the first time were very wasteful in the final third - and at the other end, poor defending contributed to each of Norwich's goals. The only positive for Leeds was that Patrick Bamford returned to the bench and scored our consolation goal after coming on as a late substitute. A Leeds win would have left us six points clear at the top of the league, but we ended up level on points with Norwich instead. We picked up a decent away point at Middlesbrough a week later but the game was marred by a bizarre incident involving Jack Clarke. He played the entire first half, but after being substituted he collapsed while sitting on the bench during the second half, and had to be taken to hospital after being treated by paramedics. He hasn't played since then, although he is apparently back in training. The next game was an excellent 2-1 win against Swansea City, in which we somehow managed to lose yet another key player to injury - Kemar Roofe suffered knee ligament damage which might keep him out for the rest of the season. We also managed to beat Bolton Wanderers 2-1, but were then defeated by a mediocre QPR side who had lost their previous seven games. Izzy Brown played a 10 minute cameo during that game - his first appearance for Leeds. There was a lot of doom and gloom before the West Brom game but it turned out better than anyone could possibly have imagined. We got off to an incredible start with a goal after 16 seconds. West Brom kicked off and launched the ball forward, Liam Cooper headed it back into their half, Jack Harrison collected it, drove forward and then squared the ball to Pablo Hernandez who fired a clinical strike into the top corner from 25 yards out. Amazing.... Leeds dominated the game from start to finish and the fans were behind the team all the way, with non-stop singing, chanting and celebrating throughout. West Brom have a lot of dangerous players but they were never able to really threaten us because every time they got the ball we chased them down, harried them and took it off them. I don't remember Marcus Gayle having a single shot on goal and Kiko Casilla only had one notable save to make all evening. In contrast, we created several chances before scoring our second goal on the half hour mark. A neat passing move ended with Mateusz Klich sliding the ball through to Tyler Roberts on the edge of the box, who flicked it on to Bamford, who got behind the last defender and slotted the ball into the far corner of the net. We kept up the pressure and scored two more excellent goals in the second half. With 60 minutes on the clock, Roberts won the ball in the centre circle, beat one man and then found Bamford on the left side of the box, and his deflected shot beat the West Brom goalkeeper. Bamford has looked a bit rusty since making his comeback but on this evidence he's getting back to his best and will hopefully keep scoring goals for the rest of the season. Jamie Shackleton came on for Roberts in the first minute of stoppage time and started off another great move, which ended with Klich flicking the ball back to him as he ran into the box and provided a perfect cross for Gjanni Alioski to tap home from close range. All in all an incredible 4-0 victory that sent us temporarily back to the top of the league, but will end up meaning nothing unless we can somehow finish the season as strongly as we started it. With 35 games played it looks like a three horse race for the automatic promotion places, between Norwich (who beat Millwall over the weekend to reclaim the top spot, with 69 points), Leeds (who moved up to second, with 67 points) and Sheffield United (who only managed a draw against local rivals Sheffield Wednesday and moved down to third, with 65 points). Our next fixture will be a tough one, away at Bristol City. I still can't believe we'll get promoted, but at least we're still in the running....

#leeds united #soccer #football #championship #marcelo bielsa #efl #elland road #leeds #united #ticket #2019

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your-dietician · 3 years

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Jack Grealish: England’s Golden Boy

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/soccer/jack-grealish-englands-golden-boy/

Jack Grealish: England’s Golden Boy

The Wembley Stadium crowd was calling for him, yearning for him, long before it had seen him. The second half of England’s game with Germany had reached a deadlock. The English had not troubled Manuel Neuer’s goal for some time; the Germans had mustered a single shot, and then retreated into their shell. Stalemate had set in.

England had a wealth of talent on its bench to break it: Phil Foden, with his Gascoigne-blond hair, Manchester City’s great rising star. Jadon Sancho, coming off a devastating season in the Bundesliga. Manchester United’s spiritual leader, Marcus Rashford. The dynamic and industrious Mason Mount, a Champions League winner only a month ago.

England’s fans, though, wanted someone else. They wanted a player who would not even have been in contention for a place on the roster, let alone the team, had this tournament taken place, as scheduled, last summer. They wanted a player who had, at that point, only nine caps and precisely zero goals for his country.

They wanted a player who had never set foot in the Champions League, or even the Europa League, a player who had never won a cup or a league or a first-rate honor of any sort. They wanted a player whose greatest contribution to his national team to that point was a flick — admittedly, a brilliantly inventive one — in a defeat to Belgium late last year.

But despite all of that, the fans knew exactly whom they wanted. They started to sing his name, to demand that Gareth Southgate, the manager, summon him from the bench and send him into the thick of England’s biggest game since 2018 and its biggest game on home soil in 25 years.

They wanted Jack Grealish, and nobody else.

England has spent a lot of time, over the last year or so, thinking about Grealish. At first, it was in the context of one of those classic English either/or debates, the sort of complex issue boiled down to a simple binary that fills all those quiet hours of radio and litters message boards and allows columnists to fulminate and encourages readers to click, click, click.

Should Southgate call up Grealish — the 25-year-old captain of Aston Villa, his boyhood team — or James Maddison, 24, the Leicester City playmaker with the slicked-back hair?

The answer, obviously, could have been both, or neither, or “well, they’re very different players and so this is a bit like asking whether England should play Harry Kane or a goalkeeper.” But that did not matter. What mattered was the question: Grealish, Maddison, either, or?

Southgate, not especially conveniently, settled that one a few weeks ago, when Grealish made his squad for Euro 2020 and Maddison did not. Smoothly, the debate shifted to acknowledge the updated circumstances. Grealish did not appear at all in England’s opening game against Croatia. Should Southgate be picking him? He was only a substitute against Scotland. Should he be starting? He was on the team against the Czech Republic. Should he not be the centerpiece of the side?

And then, 20 minutes or so into the second half of England’s round of 16 game with Germany on Tuesday, as Wembley was starting to fret about extra time and penalties and we all know how that ends against the Germans, the crowd made its verdict known. Pointedly, it started to chant Grealish’s name. It was not meant only as a paean for the player. It was an urgent, unanimous instruction for Southgate.

The England manager had all of that talent — Premier League winners and Champions League winners and stars from Manchester United and Chelsea and Manchester City — sitting on the bench. And yet it was Grealish, with his nine caps and no goals and no real experience in these situations, who the public had decided was the man for the job.

There is, as they say, a lot to unpack here. On one level, there is a very good reason that England — in the sense of its fans, its prominent cheerleaders and the public as a whole — has fallen so hard for Grealish: He is a very fine footballer, indeed.

In many ways, he is not a particularly English one. Or, rather, he is not the sort of player England has produced for a long time, since the heyday of all of those mercurial schemers in the 1970s. With his long hair and his rolled-down socks, Grealish evokes a player who is the antithesis of an English footballer: the Portuguese playmaker Rui Costa. Regular readers of this newsletter will know that, in these parts, there is no higher praise.

Grealish is graceful and strong and relentlessly inventive, among the most creative players in Europe, in fact. He shows for the ball, and he carries the ball, and he makes things happen. But the fact that the acclaim is not misplaced does not mean its pitch is not slightly unusual.

Grealish is good, but so are Rashford and Foden and Sancho. That, in the eyes of the public, they all now exist in Grealish’s shadow is a strange phenomenon, not one adequately explained by his abilities on the field.

Instead, it is hard to avoid the suspicion that part of the affection for Grealish comes not from what he does, but who he is, or what he seems to stand for. First and foremost, he passes the eye test: He looks like a good player. He has something, indeed, of Beckham about him — the on-trend hair; the tattoos; the artful, idiosyncratic style of his socks.

More important, there is the fact that he looks like a player in a way that is recognizable to the fans. A few months ago, a video of four men in their 20s — all from Birmingham, Grealish’s hometown, as it happens — that had been manipulated to make the men look like they were singing a sea shanty (lockdown has been long and weird, hasn’t it?) went viral.

It is not an attempt to pass judgment on their look — musclebound, tattooed, some clothes too baggy, some clothes too tight, unnecessary glasses — to suggest that they were decked out in what is an instantly familiar uniform to anyone who has been out beyond 9 p.m. in a provincial British city in the last five years. It is not an attempt to pass judgment on Grealish to say that he looks like he might be friends with them. He has, in a very 21st century way, an Everyman quality.

That extends below the surface. Grealish plays for Aston Villa, his hometown club. He has had chances to leave but has stayed loyal (so far, at least). He has had missteps and invoked the ire of the tabloids more than once. He has attracted and warranted criticism, but his flaws make him a little more rounded than the image of the devoted, dedicated and ultimately quite boring superathlete that most of his peers cultivate. Fans can see themselves in Grealish. He is not perfect, but he is relatable.

More important than all of that is the simple fact that Grealish, compared with much of the England squad, is fresh. He is, to some extent, a blank slate.

Fans have watched Harry Kane and Rashford and Raheem Sterling for years. What they offer, the things that they can do, the things that make them special, are all well known. But so, too, are the things they cannot do, the flaws in their game. They have all been scrutinized to their very souls. The country knows, or at least thinks it knows, every single one of their shortcomings.

That does not apply to Grealish. Until relatively recently, most fans would only ever have seen him in highlights. Even over the last year, when every game has been televised, the vast majority will not have tuned in religiously to see Aston Villa play. To most, then, Grealish still has a box-fresh air.

That he has not played in the Champions League is, in that sense, an advantage, too. Not only does it mean he is immune to the tribalism that envelops England’s superpowers — fans of Manchester United and Manchester City alike will not feel dirty for wishing an Aston Villa player well — he has not had to cope with the exposure that comes with playing at the very highest level, for the biggest clubs and in the biggest games.

He has not been subjected to microscopic analysis after a disappointing performance against Bayern Munich. He has not endured a rough evening at the hands of Paris St.-Germain. He has not suffered in comparison to Lionel Messi. His limitations have not yet seeped into the national consciousness. England is not yet at the stage where it focuses more on what he can’t do than what he can.

And so, in the middle of England’s biggest game in years, as a country’s whole summer hung on a knife-edge, the Wembley crowd chanted his name, demanded the introduction of its new, unsullied favorite, the player still imbued with that magic of the new.

As he stood up on the substitutes’ bench to put his jersey on, the stadium roared. Here was the golden boy, to save the day. A few minutes later, Grealish slipped the ball into the path of Luke Shaw. He crossed, and Sterling tapped in. Not long after that, Grealish swung a cross onto Kane’s head, no more than 5 yards from goal. When he, too, turned it into the goal, Wembley exulted again.

Neither moment was a spectacular intervention, in truth — a simple pass, an easy cross — but both were taken as proof of the wisdom of the crowd. Grealish makes things happen. Grealish can do anything. Grealish, England’s great summer love affair, is fresh and new and perfect. For now, at least. But for now may be all that matters.

The Copa Curse May Yet Lift

After 1,800 minutes, plus injury time, spread across 20 games and four cities, the Copa América has succeeded in eliminating only Bolivia and Venezuela. Two weeks in, it is possible to feel that a competition that seemed destined not to happen — it was moved from Colombia and then Argentina to Brazil, ravaged by the pandemic — has still not actually started.

Things should, in theory, start to improve from here. The story of the group phase (as is the case every year, and we mean every year, so often do they insist on playing it) has been trying to work out which of Brazil and Argentina is best placed to win it, and which team represents the most likely challenge to that duopoly.

The answers, so far, are a little indistinct. Argentina and Brazil sailed through their groups, dropping points only at the start (Argentina) or at the end (Brazil). The former has Lionel Messi in a determined mood; the latter has the more balanced side, and home-field advantage.

It is, certainly, hard to see Brazil not making the final. Chile, its opponent in a quarterfinal on Friday, started and sputtered in the group phase. The semifinals will bring an encounter with Peru or Paraguay. Argentina’s path is more challenging. A young Ecuador team held Brazil to a draw in its last group game and has a handful of highly promising players scattered throughout its ranks. Uruguay, likely to await in the semifinals, is all gnarled experience.

Messi has suggested he is in the sort of mood that might single-handedly propel his team to the final in Rio de Janeiro on July 10. That should, in theory, bring Brazil into his path, as he tries to end his long wait for an international honor before his time runs out. It has been a long road here. That denouement may just about be worth it.

The Greatest Day of Them All. Maybe.

Unai Simón’s week might have been very different. He might have spent the last five days under the baleful glare of the world’s news media, a target for fury and pity in equal measure, absorbing the blame for Spain’s elimination from Euro 2020. Instead, his quite astonishing error — and the own goal it yielded minutes into his team’s round of 16 meeting with Croatia — had all but been forgotten within a few hours. How fortunate for Simón, really, that he happened to make his mistake right at the start of the most remarkable day of tournament soccer, well, ever.

That was certainly how it felt in the immediate aftermath of France’s defeat to Switzerland on penalties. All tournaments have days when they suddenly catch light, days that sweep you along with them, but as Kylian Mbappé trudged from the field, away from the scene of the greatest disappointment in his young career, it was hard to think of one that had packed in quite so much as this.

Or was that just the shock and emotion and recency bias talking? It is at times like these that Twitter’s hive-mind structure and its willfully contrarian nature come into their own. It is, in effect, a large group of people, all of whom are conditioned to tell you why you are wrong at any given moment.

The alternative suggestions duly flooded in. Most convincingly, Andrew Downie selected two dates from the 1970 World Cup: June 14, the day of all four quarterfinals, including West Germany’s win against England, and June 17, when Brazil beat Uruguay and Italy overcame West Germany in what became known as the Game of the Century.

Mike Martin nominated June 30, 1954 — the semifinals, West Germany beating Austria and Hungary dethroning the reigning champion, Uruguay, with 13 goals spread across two games. Davet Hyland went more modern, pointing to both quarterfinal days in 1994: the one with Brazil beating the Netherlands, 3-2, followed 24 hours later by the one with Bulgaria’s win against Germany.

All valid cases, and all worthy of consideration. I would, though, suggest that the suggestions from 1954 and 1970 fall short for one reason alone: All of those games were played simultaneously. It would not have been possible to watch, and to savor, them both (even, in the case of 1954, on the radio). They may well have been the greatest afternoons in tournament history, but they did not stretch out to occupy most of the day.

Which leaves 1994, and those sweltering, exciting days in Dallas and Foxborough, Mass., and East Rutherford, N.J., and Stanford, Calif. Whether one of those edges it for you over what happened on Monday may well be less to do with the quality of the drama on offer and more to do with how your mind works, whether the freshness of the recent outweighs the power of nostalgia. And that is entirely your call.

Correspondence

Plenty of thoughts on last week’s idea that it may be time for the European Championship to expand. It is fair to say, I think, that it split opinion (both in my inbox and on Twitter), with the balance edging toward a polite but firm no.

Dunstan Kesseler finds it hard to “get behind a tournament in which half of the teams in UEFA would qualify.” Mark Brophy pointed out, quite rightly, that awarding slots to Russia and the Czech Republic based on victories for the Soviet Union and Czechoslovakia is problematic. Fayzan Bakhtiar believes that expanding the tournament would only “compound” the issue of players’ daunting workload.

There were plenty, too, who offered alternative ideas. Harry Richards wants to see the abolition of the round-robin format in the groups, instituting instead a hybrid group/knockout system. Stephen Gessner would cut the number of teams that progress from the groups, but then make them play a two-of-three series for qualification. Most convincingly, Tony Culotta thinks things might be improved by a 28-team tournament in which only two of the teams finishing third in their group reach the knockouts.

This is the glory of workshopping, of course. The format, as it exists in my head, has now been refined. There would be no places for historical merit, now; instead, the 16 teams we have seen competing in the first knockout round of this summer’s edition would be given a pass to the finals in 2024. That neatly circumvents the (incorrect) allegation that some countries would “not have to qualify.” They would, it’s just that it would already have happened.

The most convincing element of it, though, is the part that Charles Sutcliffe believes is flawed. The FIFA rankings — the metrics that define who goes into which qualifying group — proved unerringly accurate in predicting which teams would progress to the last 16, he wrote, rather neatly challenging the idea that they don’t work.

My response would be that this is precisely the problem: The countries with higher rankings, according to FIFA, get better qualifying draws, and so they are likely to proceed more comfortably, and therefore they are likely to get better seedings when the groups are drawn, allowing them to get to the round of 16 more easily. Even ignoring how easily the rankings can be gamed, and how they anchor teams to historical performance, it is this that is their greatest problem: They are essentially self-fulfilling. Breaking the spell they cast over international soccer would be the most significant consequence of changing the way the Euros work.

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stunudo · 6 years

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BAU Prep School AU

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Competition

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country.

Feb. 11, 2017 8:49pm Winter Formal

The entire room had frozen around her, the music a distant throbbing as her eyes fell on the pair. Lizzie didn’t know what to do, she wanted to scream at him, call him out in front of everyone. She needed to run. The traitorous tears had started falling before time returned to her. Her corsage scratched against her cheek as she tried to brush away the downpour. She wrenched it from her wrist and dropped it as if it had grown arms and legs that had somehow offended her.

“Typical, Lizzie, of course no one is your friend for you,” She berated herself. “He just wanted to get into the fancy school dance, wanted to flirt with all the rich girls.” She didn’t know where she was going, but she was marching out of the gymnasium with a zeal that would have impressed the Speed Walking team, if the school had such a thing. She was muttering under her breath when Nurse Callahan stopped her.

“Whoa there, where’s the fire?” She asked jokingly, until she saw the state of the young woman. “Lizzie, is everything alright?”

“Yep, fine, Nurse Callahan,” Lizzie sniffed back the tears and postured her bare shoulders. Kate couldn’t remember the last time Lizzie had worn makeup, this was a special night for her and something had wrecked that.

“Do you need an escape plan?” She asked knowingly, tossing her arm over the girl’s shoulder, conspiratorially. “Because, I will have you know, that my office is a perfect place to hide from life or, bad dates?” She guessed.

“It wasn’t even supposed to be a date, the only way I got him to come was in a group.” Lizzie admitted. “Why are boys so shallow, Ka- Mrs. Callahan?”

“They’re not all that way,” Kate squeezed her arm, despite the height difference Lizzie felt protected. “I know it’s hard, but everyone is so confused on what they want at your age. Find a guy who likes your fire more than he likes your body.”

“But what if I want him to like my body too?” Lizzie mumbled.

“In order for that to work, there’s gotta be trust. Don’t waste your time on people who can’t see all of you.” She grabbed the lanyard from her neck and unlocked the door. She held the door open for the burdened teenager and flipped the light switch.

“Take your time, I’ll check on you when the dance is wrapping up.” Kate made sure Lizzie was situated before turning to leave. “I’m serious, just yesterday Coach Jareau needed a break. That couch does wonders.”

“Thanks, Nurse Callahan.” Lizzie fell sideways and stared at the wall of quotes and baby animals.

Kate returned to chaperoning, letting Penelope know that Lizzie was in her office. Women understood the devastation of dance drama best. After a good, solid cry, Lizzie sat herself back up. She headed into the private bathroom to straighten out her face.

February 24, 2017 4:02pm Charlottesville, VA

The caravan of SUVs and minivans pulled into the assigned parking lot on the college campus. Zachary had fallen asleep, but one of his earbuds had fallen out allowing the rest of the car to listen to James Earl Jones’ voice reading from the Bible. Ms. Blake was appreciating the cadence and gusto as she clicked open her seat belt.

“We’re here,” Alex rolled her shoulders and started opening doors before ending at the rear hatch where the coolers were stored.

The teen-aged participants grumbled in their seats as they woke from their short naps. Six students had progressed to reach the State competition, blowing everyone away was little Zachary Henkle. Kimi Dalton, Sacha Kane, Trevor Malcolm, Amelia Turner and Jake Hernandez rounded out the little troupe.

Ms. Garcia bubbled over to their coordinator, leaving Dr. Reid in the passenger seat of her massive car. “Are we settling in or just taking a knee?” The be-dangled counselor asked, clearly picking up some sports lingo from her boyfriend.

“Well, er,” Alex started, scratching the back of her neck. “I think we have allotted tables inside the Center. They will be our base of operations for the weekend.”

“I brought signs and name tags,” Penelope explained. “This way we can keep track of everyone.” She opened her canvas bag showing off her eye-numbing neon signs.

“If you can get anyone to wear those, sure, Penelope.” Alex placated. “Didn’t Reid ride with you?”

“He’s finishing up the rule book, only had like fifty pages to go,” Penelope waved towards her car.

“Well, at least someone read it,” Alex muttered, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “Un-subs! We will drop off our bags at the hotel later, for now let’s get situated outside the auditorium.”

The students tossed their luggage back in the trunks as they listened. The few parents that came along also respected the teacher’s authority and listened intently. The winter chill nipped at the poorly dressed students, hoodies and letter jackets hiding bunched fists.

“Dr. Reid and I are required to attend a supervisory orientation this evening. I trust you all, will listen to Ms. Garcia and the parents who came down early, while we are away. After that, you will have free time at the hotel until lights out at ten o’clock.”

“Ms. Blake?” Zachary’s hand caught her eye first. “If our parents aren’t here, do we have a shared room?”

“Yes, Zach,” Alex answered in her same booming voice. “Students may stay with their family members. Dr. Reid will supervise the boys’ room and Ms. Garcia will stay with the girls.”

“Good thing, Michel didn’t come.” Jake muttered to Kimi as the group started making their way across the parking lot.

“I’m pretty sure Ms. Garcia would have made sure they had their own room, Jake.”

“That’d be nice.” The boy admitted.

“Creating safe spaces isn’t easy, loves.” Ms. Garcia whispered to the pondering competitors. “Are you excited for tomorrow? I love a good debate, well, not really. I like winning debates. Does that count?”

The teens laughed, their guidance counselor loved to keep them entertained.

March 7, 2017 3:45pm

The pitch was still damp with the late winter rains, naked of chalk, gleaming in the fading light. JJ held her clipboard in front of her as she paced, waiting for the girls to change and meet her outside. A new season of soccer was underway, tryouts lasted two weeks, starting this afternoon. With her mind on the pool of players, JJ lined up the school’s balls in a daunting row. Thirty seven names were on the sign up sheet from outside her office, three were boys and four were mildly comedic and terribly immature imposters. She put out thirty three navy and white balls, to be safe.

She didn’t start the tryouts with a heated inspirational speech. She just explained her expectations for the day and kept the students moving. Twelve of the team from last spring had returned and another seven that had been cut had put themselves back out there for another round of scrutiny. The rest were new faces, freshman and sophomores that hadn’t tried out last year. JJ was impressed and slightly apprehensive about the large numbers. Cuts were hard, but necessary.

After an hour of warm ups, drills and sprints, JJ was ready to get down to business. She evenly divided the returning players with the new recruits, preparing them to scrimmage.

“Hannah, I want you to lead the Blue Squad and Camille I want you to lead the White Squad.” Coach JJ explained. “You have five minutes to set your line ups and I will whistle when we are set to start.”

The girls broke off into excited huddles as JJ sauntered over to her bag and camping chair. Seltzer water had become her best friend over the past month and she downed half a bottle while the players organized. Her features were pink in the late afternoon chill, she seemed to have lost what little meat there was on her face. She checked her watch, time to release the hounds.

“Un-subs!” Her voice sliced across the field. “To your positions. We will have a quick scrimmage. All players must be subbed in if they are not starting. Fifteen minute quarters, to ensure your captains are able to make those substitutions.”

She hiked to the center of the field, lined with orange cones as Anderson wouldn’t lay down the paint for a few more weeks. The whistle hovered over her lips, she eyed the forewords, nodding to the White Squad that they could call the coin in the air.

“Heads!” A chirping voice called out.

“Its tails, Blue Squad, choice?”

“Blue Squad will receive, Coach.” Little Cissy Howard parroted Hannah’s instructions.

“Very well, line up.” The whistle finally peeled into the gloaming.

March 8, 2017 7:22am

Coach Morgan was running behind, having left Penelope’s house later than normal. She was quite distracting in the morning and as she didn’t have a class full of students waiting on her first period; a terrible influence. He by-passed his usual stop in the main office and jogged down the corridor towards the gym and eventually, the weight room. Lifting in the morning was his favorite class, the students were too tired to be chatty and it got the bulk of the supervising out of the way. It didn’t hurt that he practically dictated his own schedule each year.

He slipped inside the locker room to change for class, always ready with a “go-bag”. As he rounded the corner he caught the hulking form of Andrew Heathridge bending over the bench. But he wasn’t tying up his trainers, his foot was bare and he had a syringe in his hand. Derek did a double take as the door finally closed, signalling his arrival.

The muscular boy stood up quickly tossing the needle into a corner of the lockers.

“Heathridge?” Coach reprimanded.

“Coach?” His voice startled, shame clouding his features for a moment before he reset his eyebrows.

“Do you want to tell me what I just saw?”

“No, sir.”

“You and I are going to have a talk after school, man.” The other weightlifters had started filing in behind the awestruck Coach. Andrew remained silent, but he rolled his eyes and went back to his sock and shoes. Derek Morgan was heartbroken.

March 10, 2017 9:37pm

“Alright, but remember that one time you tried to serve him store bought gelato and he nearly threw it back at you?” Alex was laughing so hard that the tears were collecting in her crow’s feet.

David Rossi nodded solemnly then shook his head, “I mean, I probably spent more on the stuff in the package than I do on ingredients, but Jason knew!”

Haley was laughing just as hard as Alex and Stan, Jordan’s husband. Aaron smirked as he sipped his bourbon. Chef Rossi had some of the old timers and the headmaster over for a dinner, letting the memories of Jason soothe over the rough way he was sent off.

“I remember him telling us, once, that his great uncle was an executive for some movie production company in Chicago?” Hotch asked Rossi for verification.

“Believe it or not, that wasn’t a lie. He has some old reels of Chaplin that he puts on sometimes.” Dave admitted. “God, what is he going to do with himself now?” Instinctively, his eyes wandered to Allie for an answer.

“Don’t look at me,” Alex teased. “I lost Jason and the house, remember.”

“You hated this house,” Dave shrugged.

Haley sensed some wine-fulled nostalgia changing the topic. “So what was Jason like, before, when he was married?”

“Night and day,” Jordan piped in. “He smiled, he was courteous. Still impulsive and perhaps even more reckless.”

“Before his wife left him, Jason was a decent guy, thriving on knowledge and sharing those discoveries.” Stan explained in a broad baritone.

“Has anyone heard from Stephen?” Hotch asked, cautiously.

“I get semi-regular updates. But nothing since,” Dave finished his glass. He stood making his way to the beverage cart he had in the sitting room. “Can I get anyone anything? I’m up.”

“Actually,” Aaron eyed his beautiful wife. “We should probably get going. The babysitter is waiting.”

Dave and Jordan shared a knowing smirk. “Uh-huh, sure.”

“Thank you so much for having us!” Haley stood enthusiastically hugging the old chef. “You really do have a nice house.”

“Mansion, but thank you, my dear.” Rossi teased. He shook Hotch’s hand at the door.

Jordan and Stan helped Alex clear the glasses before heading home. Alex sighed as she looked back at the circular drive illuminated like a beacon, a lonely castle in the night sky. She never really hated the house, it just held too many memories to live in it any longer. It was better to visit, rarely.

March 13, 2017 7:18am

Dr. Reid found Coach Morgan in the Main Office before school, his shoulders hunched in his FBI windbreaker. The inquisitive man didn’t know how he was going to explain his impulse to offer to help with an athlete, but something had put his feet in motion. Perhaps it was everything that had happened to students this school year, perhaps it was a distraction. Whatever it was, it wasn’t leaving Spencer Reid to sit by the wayside.

“Coach?” Spencer said, despite his croaking voice.

“Hey, Reid. What’s up?” Morgan’s full attention was now on Spencer.

“Listen, I heard, about young Mr. Heathridge,” Spencer began as Derek nodded. “I was wondering, maybe, if I could talk to him?”

“Uh, sure, I guess. But Reid, what exactly do you know about the situation that I don’t?”

“Though I am sure you are versed in the lasting effects of such doses, I may be able to appeal to him on a different level.”

“And what level is that?” Derek straightened his posture, eyeing the science teacher now.

“As an addict.” Spencer let it sink in. “Now, obviously I wasn’t taking steroids or performance enhancers, if, we are being generous. I have a problem with Dilaudid, which is like heroin. I know what its like to take something to make life easier.”

“Wow, man. How long have you been clean?”

“Three years, seven months and eighteen days.” Spencer said instantly.

“So right before you started teaching?” Derek said after a few moments of heavy silence.

“Pretty much.” Spencer waited.

“Does anybody know about this?” Derek asked gently.

“Hotch does, President Strauss, uh, found out, and I am sure some of the students do, or have guessed.”

“Let me think about it?” Derek answered finally. “I want to help Andrew, but I don’t want to leave you vulnerable, if it backfires.”

“Derek,” Spencer said, was this the first time he had used the coach’s first name? “I need to help. I can’t let another student falter, not when I could have done something.”

“Okay, man.” Derek smirked in admiration, patting Spencer robustly on the back.

Very Special Thanks to Cassie @mentallydatingspencerreid,

Meg @imagicana , and Loki @ay-nako!!!

@ddreammcatcher @ultrarebelheart @lightbluelester @criminal-anatomy @captainreid @thebadyears @amarislestrange @shaelyn102 @badasprentiss @fl0werb0nes18 @inestava @sam-carter-in-training @wonderboygenius @fortheloveofpearlet @valentina-pendragon-blog @imarockstar45 @chocok22 @cynbx @fairymega @madamredwrites @doctorspencerreidrp @mindsunleashed @dontshootmespence @bookofreid @marvelfanlife @welp-there-it-is @ilikeitwhenyousleepforyouareso @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @original-criminal-fanfics @derpyprentiss @olicia-leeshy @lookwhatyoumademequeue @veroinnumera @sarahkay-19 @sammles27 @lesbian-asajj @teatimewithtiya @braziliangirlonasharkcity @alienlynz @janam03 @nobravery @clockworkballerina

@whymesswperfection @hagridsmumhasgotitgoingon @brooke0297 @xxmaddhatter39xx @gurliest @handpaintedgalaxy @kxlley

@krazykendraisnotinsane @bat-crazydoll8 @hownottobeaheartbreaker @captainreid @beereadsthings @prettyboysjello @megsi98 @criminal-prentiss @eternaldarknessiscool

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junker-town · 3 years

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12 predictions that will determine the NBA season

Our writers give their NBA predictions at the onset of the season.

Only two months after the Los Angeles Lakers were crowned as champions inside the bubble, a new NBA season arrives with the league returning to home arenas. The NBA is set to play a condensed 72-game schedule as the global pandemic continues to rage on, though there’s hope that the vaccine will be widely distributed in the coming months.

This was the shortest offseason in league history for teams that made a deep playoff run in the bubble. Meanwhile, the teams that didn’t qualify for the season restart haven’t played since March. With superstars like Kevin Durant and Stephen Curry returning after missing all of last season, it feels like so much of this year is unknowable. What we do know going into the season is that the Lakers are strong favorites to repeat.

Before the 2020-2021 NBA regular season gets underway, we asked our staff to predict how this year will go. Picks are being made by writers Sabreena Merchant, Sydney Umeri, Ameer Tyree, Ricky O’Donnell, and Brady Klopfer.

Who will be the No. 1 seed in the West?

Sabreena: The Lakers. At the risk of taking too much away from the preseason, seeing the Lakers scrape and claw to win all four exhibitions makes me think this team has so many non-LeBron players who want to prove something this season. That depth will be hard to contend with during the regular season.

Ricky: The Nuggets. While their defense should take a hit without Jerami Grant, Jamal Murray and Michael Porter Jr. leveling up could mean the Nuggets have the No. 1 offense in the league. With the Lakers and Clippers likely prioritizing rest in the regular season, Denver seems an obvious candidate to jump up to the top seed.

Sydney: The Lakers. While different than last year, the Lakers kept many of their core pieces and substituted them where necessary. With LeBron and AD having great chemistry on-and-off the court, Montrezl Harrell, the reigning 6th Man of the Year filling the spot of Dwight Howard, and the exciting and surprising Talen Horton-Tucker emerging as a force, I think they will be pretty hard to beat.

Brady: The Nuggets. Denver is the only top team in the West that doesn’t have obstacles to overcome. They don’t have a new coach and system like the Clippers. They won’t be resting their top players like the Lakers. They don’t have as much roster turnover as the Mavericks. They have continuity, and can score 120 points in their sleep.

Ameer: The Los Angeles Lakers were favored to win it all after acquiring Anthony Davis and a slew of veterans last season and have made upgrades at multiple positions. LeBron James and AD will do most of the heavy lifting but last year’s top two Sixth Man of the Year candidates — Dennis Schroder and Montrezl Harrell — will set the reigning champs over the top.

Photo by Douglas P. DeFelice/Getty Images

True or false: the Bucks will make the NBA Finals this season.

Sydney: False. The Giannis fan in me wants that to be true, for his sake, but the East is too talented, and I can see Milwaukee making an early playoff exit yet again. Boston, Miami, Brooklyn, and Toronto all have the opportunity to give the Bucks a good run heading into the finals, and unfortunately, I do not think they have what it takes to make it to the finals.

Ricky: False. It would be a great story to see Giannis Antetokounmpo breakthrough to the Finals after committing to Milwaukee long-term, but Mike Budenholzer’s curious playoff decisions and a serious lack of depth are real question marks. It’s true that the Bucks could have an easier path through the postseason this year — the Heat were the worst possible matchup — but I’ll go with the field in the East over Milwaukee.

Sabreena: False. I don’t think the Bucks addressed their weakness of creating offense in the half court with the Jrue Holiday trade, and Mike Budenholzer is still the worst coast atop the East, even if we don’t what Steve Nash is like in this role yet. There’s no reason why the Bucks can’t be a regular-season juggernaut again, but I’ll be thinking about what Bogdan Bogdanovic would have looked like on this team for a long time.

Brady: False. I think the Bucks would be my prediction to win the East, as I really like the Giannis Antetokounmpo and Jrue Holiday fit. But you have to be really good to be favored over the field, and the Bucks postseason foibles don’t allow for that benefit of the doubt.

Ameer: False. I’d believe Milwaukee had it the Bogdan Bogdanovic trade. Adding a player with Jrue Holiday’s defensive versatility to a team anchored by Giannis Antetokounmpo and Khris Middleton is significant, but I’m skeptical about how a off-ball guard rotation of Donte DiVincenzo and Brynn Forbes will pan out. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Bucks were the top team in the Eastern Conference for the regular season, but I’m not buying them as a contender.

Photo by Carmen Mandato/Getty Images

James Harden trade during this season: 76ers or the field?

Sabreena: 76ers. I don’t think a team is offering a better player than Ben Simmons. Daryl Morey has boldly proclaimed that he wouldn’t trade a player before and backtracked very quickly, and he loves James Harden way too much to not pull the trigger later this season once Houston’s asking price has come down. Simmons, Tyrese Maxey, and a sweetener should get the job done.

Ricky: The field. If Houston hangs onto Harden through the year, Philly seems like the most natural trade partner with Ben Simmons going back to the Rockets. But after Daryl Morey’s strong statement that he isn’t trading Simmons, it’s hard to see how that deal goes during this season.

Sydney: The field. I don’t think Harden will end this season as a Rocket, but I doubt he will end it as a Sixer either. To get Harden, the Sixers would have to give up so much, Embiid or Simmons and possibly more. I’m not sure trading away one or more foundational players is the best way to go in exchange for a star that might not be in Philly for the long haul.

Brady: The field. I agree with Ricky that Philly will be the favorite next offseason if Harden makes it through the season without switching teams. But the Sixers are trying out a new coach in Doc Rivers to see if they can make their exciting young core work. I don’t see them abandoning that after a few weeks. Also, Daryl Morey has long been in the business of hoarding draft picks, not dishing them out; I’m not convinced he’d meet Houston’s price.

Ameer: It doesn’t seem like Philadelphia is willing to budge on Simmons but several other Eastern Conference teams looking to make a leap are willing to fork up the necessary assets to acquire Harden. I’m not sure whether it’ll be the Nets, Raptors, or another team that has yet to make itself known as a suitor, but players like Harden aren’t up for grabs often.

Photo by Glenn James/NBAE via Getty Images

Who’s your MVP pick?

Ameer: Luka Doncic cracked the top 20 in points, rebounds and assists last season and is the odds-on favorite to win MVP on plenty of sportsbooks. It’ll be hard for the third-year star to ascend to a higher level but playing without Kristaps Porzingis to start the 2020-21 season can only benefit him. The 21-year-old finished fourth in MVP voting last year. LeBron, AD, and Antetokounmpo getting more help can only improve Doncic’s case.

Ricky: Anthony Davis. An MVP is the one thing missing on Davis’ resume at this point. With LeBron likely waiting until the playoffs to unleash the totality of his talent, Davis should emerge as the Lakers’ representative for the award. After losing out on Finals MVP to LeBron last season, I wouldn’t be surprised if voters give AD a make-up call here.

Sydney: Giannis Antetokounmpo. Yes, again. He is spectacular and truly a force on the court, but also, he is healthy and on the hunt for a championship. If the Bucks do not get a title this year, it won’t be because Giannis didn’t move heaven and Earth to get them one. Throughout the season, his body of work will be a testament to that and will earn him MVP status for the third year in a row.

Brady: LeBron James. This is a pick that will look foolish the first time James does some managing of the load. But after his performance in the bubble, he enters the season as the consensus best player in the world. It’s easier to retain a belt than to steal it. Excluding the bizarre and arguably inappropriate Kobe Bryant storyline, all the narratives that media members used to justify MVP votes for ‘Bron last year will still be present this season. He’s got the belt and the narrative.

Sabreena: Luka Doncic. I think Giannis will be deserving of the award, but I can’t see the voters making him the winner for the third consecutive year, especially since he hasn’t yet won a title. Meanwhile, Doncic will be the alpha and omega for this Mavericks team, especially when Kristaps Porzingis is out to start the year. He’ll be able to pad his stats to an otherworldly total. Doncic will also play more minutes than some of the older MVP candidates, and his coronation will be the perfect conclusion of his breakout performance in the bubble.

Photo by Kent Smith/NBAE via Getty Images

Who’s your Rookie of the Year pick?

Ricky: LaMelo Ball. His shooting percentages might be trash, and the Hornets likely won’t win much, but Ball clearly has 20x the starpower of anyone else in this rookie class. He’ll win the award on highlights alone.

Sabreena: James Wiseman. This is another award where voters like raw counting stats, which favors point guards, but LaMelo Ball probably won’t be starting, and Killian Hayes doesn’t exactly have an offense geared towards him in Detroit. I thought about Tyrese Haliburton, but he’ll also be coming off the bench, so Wiseman is the pick for now. He’ll get some shine for playing in a winning situation, and he’ll get a ton of easy buckets and rebounds to pad his box scores.

Sydney: LaMelo Ball. His upside is huge, and he is extremely fun to watch. LaMelo is the Ball brother I can’t help but cheer for. I want to see him be great, and on the Hornets team, he has ample opportunity to do so.

Brady: LaMelo Ball. I think James Wiseman will be the most impactful rookie, but Ball is tailor made for the award. He’ll play 30+ minutes a night, have the ball in his hands, put up gaudy numbers (as long as efficiency and plus-minus aren’t your cup of tea), and be a staple on the nightly Top 10.

Ameer: LaMelo Ball might be at a disadvantage because he’ll kick off his NBA career as a bench player but I think he has the best case for ROY. No other lottery pick is even close to being the top option on their respective teams but Ball’s all-around game and flashy play will make it hard to keep him out of the conversation. No rookie has more triple-double potential than Ball in my opinion.

Russell Isabella-USA TODAY Sports

One player who will make an All-NBA team for the first time

Ricky: Devin Booker. Booker probably isn’t the best player on his own team anymore with the arrival of Chris Paul, but for the first time in his career the Phoenix Suns should be in the playoffs. Booker showed phenomenal progress during the Suns’ undefeated streak in the bubble. If he keeps it up and Phoenix grabs a spot in the middle of the West playoff picture, the individual accolades will come.

Sabreena: Bam Adebayo. I was tempted to say none, but where’s the fun? Adebayo’s another player who is heading into this season with a lot of momentum thanks to the bubble, and if the Heat finish near the top of the East standings, Adebayo will get a lot o credit.

Sydney: Zion Williamson. Spending most of his rookie season out with an injury, I believe Zion will have more than a few votes this year that will land him on an All-NBA team for the first, and probably not the last, time in his young career.

Brady: Zion Williamson. He’s already one of the league’s best players. Finding space for another forward on the team is always difficult, but he’ll use his superhuman strength to force his way in.

Ameer: The Atlanta Hawks had a tremendous offseason and Trae Young will be running the show after averaging an impressive 29.6 points and 9.3 assists per contest in his sophomore season. I think an All-NBA guard spot could be up for grabs now that Russell Westbrook and Bradley Beal have joined forces and Chris Paul has teamed up with Devin Booker. If the Hawks creep into the playoff picture it’ll be hard to deny a player with Trae’s numbers.

David Richard-USA TODAY Sports

Which team will finish with the lowest winning percentage?

Sydney: The Cavs. They are young and don’t know what kind of a team they are going to be. The team needs true veteran leadership. Given how young they are, this looks like another building year. A year to get their younger players reps and hopefully land a nice spot in the draft lottery.

Brady: The Knicks. There’s some intrigue in the Knicks young pieces, but they’re gonna rely on RJ Barrett and Obi Toppin to score, play Austin Rivers way too much, play Mitchell Robinson far too little, and have Tom Thibodeau demolish every player’s confidence on a nightly basis. It’ll be fun, in that same way that a Hallmark holiday movie is.

Sabreena: The Thunder. They play in the tougher conference, their bench is absurdly weak, and they’re likely to dump some pieces at the trade deadline to make the team even worse later in the year.

Ameer: The New York Knicks’ best player was Julius Randle last season and they elected to chose a backup for him in the lottery this year. They haven’t addressed their need for a point guard and I can’t see this team being better with teams like the Cleveland Cavaliers and Hawks again. The Detroit Pistons are a close second but a healthier Blake Griffin paired with Derrick Rose and a few experienced veterans is more appealing than any combination of Knicks players for me.

Ricky: The Thunder. There are actually some good players in Oklahoma City this year — Al Horford! George Hill! Trevor Ariza! Shai Gilgeous-Alexander! — but it’s likely several of them are traded in-season as the Thunder are fully committed to a rebuild. Half the roster looks like a G League team.

Kim Klement-USA TODAY Sports

Which of these teams will finish with the highest winning percentage: Heat, 76ers, Raptors, Celtics

Brady: The Raptors. I wasn’t here for the Raptors disrespect a year ago, and I’m not here for it now. Until Kyle Lowry starts slowing down, Toronto should still be near the top of the East. Boston should be comfortably better in the postseason, but the loss of Gordon Hayward and injury to Kemba Walker will hurt them in the standings.

Sydney: The 76ers. I’m trusting the process and going with Philly. That’s if they don’t trade away any of their major players. With a new front office, new head coach, and a roster more suited to highlight and strengthen Embiid and Simmons, I think they will have a solid year and will be tough for other teams to handle.

Sabreena: The Heat. This team is the most complete of the four, assuming Kemba Walker misses significant time, and they just know how to play together now after the bubble run. They’ll get off to a faster start, giving them a little breathing room at the end of the year.

Ameer: Miami has the same nucleus it won a championship with last year and I don’t expect them to have to make many adjustments. The Toronto lost two key bigs while Boston parted with Gordon Hayward. The like the Heat to finish third behind the Nets and Bucks.

Ricky: Raptors. Toronto won nine more games than the Heat last year, 10 more games than the Sixers, and five more games than the Celtics (who start this season without Kemba Walker). While I do think Toronto got a little bit worse over the offseason after losing Serge Ibaka and Marc Gasol, you can bet on Nick Nurse finding a way to win them a lot of games.

Steve Dykes-USA TODAY Sports

Which of these teams will finish with the highest winning percentage: Trail Blazers, Jazz, Suns, Warriors

Sydney: The Jazz. They have all the pieces to make this season a good one. Donovan Mitchell is back. Rudy Golbert is also back. They have also added a few new additions to the team, but overall they have the chance to pick up where they left off last season and sore.

Brady: The Warriors. I think Utah might be the safe pick here, but the NBA is still a league driven by superstars, and the Warriors have one of the very best. Golden State will go as for as Steph Curry will take them, and that is usually pretty far.

Sabreena: The Blazers. I really like Portland’s depth after this offseason, and that will make them a tough out every night in the regular season. The Blazers have also finished third or eighth each of the past four seasons, and this feels more like a third-place team than one eking its way into the playoffs again.

Ameer: The Jazz took a major step forward by adding Bojan Bogdanovic in free agency last offseason and could benefit from having a healthy Mike Conley this year. Utah improved its backcourt depth by retaining Jordan Clarkson and added Derrick Favors to the frontcourt rotation. It had same record as last year’s fourth seed I can’t see any of the other team’s mentioned knocking them down a peg at full strength.

Ricky: Jazz. While I was extremely tempted to pick the Suns here, Utah just seems like a safer bet overall. They won nine more games than anyone else in this group last year and brought back basically the entire roster. Donovan Mitchell and Rudy Gobert is a pretty damn good 1-2 punch.

Wendell Cruz-USA TODAY Sports

What’s the Nets’ ceiling as presently constructed?

Sabreena: NBA champ. The last time Kevin Durant played, he was unguardable, and the rest of the offensive talent on the Nets is pretty impressive, too. There’s a chance they’re simply too explosive for any defense in the league.

Ricky: Conference champion. KD looked awesome in the preseason coming back from the torn Achilles, and there’s more depth here than people realize. I do have questions about the defense, and I doubt they could beat the Lakers in a seven-game series, but an NBA Finals run wouldn’t surprise me.

Sydney: First round of the playoffs. The Nets are looking good right now, but it’s so early. They have to stay healthy, and they have to get along, specifically Kyrie and KD. Health is the most important, but we have all seen what it is like when KD and Kyrie do not get along with their teammates. It’s not pretty.

Brady: NBA champion. Do I think it will happen? No. But they have arguably the greatest scorer in NBA history, next to one of the best scorers in the league, surrounded by shooters. The sky is the limit, even if there’s a high chance of it exploding.

Ameer: The Nets are built like a powerhouse team. While many are skeptical about their defense I feel like their depth on offense is enough to take them to the NBA Finals. If Kevin Durant and Kyrie Irving are healthy for the most part Brooklyn can reach the final stage.

Mark J. Rebilas-USA TODAY Sports

Pick one for NBA champion: Lakers or the field.

Ricky: Lakers. Part of this is because I consistently picked against the Lakers last year and they made me look dumb as hell. Part of this is because they (probably?) upgraded a roster that already looked dominant in the bubble. While their shooting might take a step back, the defense will be as good as ever. As long as LeBron and AD stay healthy, the Lakers are clearly the team to beat.

Sydney: The field. The Lakers are talented, but it is hard to repeat. LeBron and AD will put on a show for sure, but something tells me a team from the East will take it from them this year.

Brady: The field. This is nothing against the Lakers, but the field is almost always the right pick. There are too many championship-caliber squads to give a team relying an a player in his 18th season and an injury-prone big man more than a coin’s flip chance.

(Sabreena refuses to tempt fate)

Ameer: Only a major midseason trade could make me think there’s a team capable of knocking off the new-and-improved Lakers. Short layoff or not, Los Angeles has the best roster in the Western Conference and has a good chance to repeat as champs barring any major injuries or blockbuster deals.

Give me your hottest take for a preseason prediction

Brady: Jayson Tatum takes the age leap and is no longer 19 years old when the season ends. More seriously, I’ll say that the Western Conference Finals will include a team that isn’t the Lakers, Clippers, Nuggets, or Mavericks.

Ameer: My hot take preseason prediction is that Ben Simmons will make more than 20 three pointers this season. We haven’t seen tape of him shooting from range at open gyms this offseason but I’m buying that he would’ve been willing to attempt more heaves from deep in the playoffs had he not suffered a season-ending knee injury. Daryl Morey’s influence has to come into play here after leaving a Houston Rockets team that hoisted more threes than anyone.

Ricky: I know I pegged AD for MVP, but I want to throw out a YOLO (people still say that, right?) pick for Nikola Jokic to win Most Valuable Player. If the Nuggets get the No. 1 seed and finish with the top overall offense, he should have a terrific case.

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theponchosection · 3 years

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Episode 105 (Sports Pandemic) - After Show

What the hell is Trashball?!

We found a few sources; each a different game. How do you play?!

Rules according to Hesston College

Type: Group/Active

Group Size: At least 4 people

Equipment:

2 Trash cans (like yard trash cans work the best).

Playground ball (also known as a dodge ball).

Instructions:

Divide the group into two teams, and place a trash can at each end of the playing field, and then go to your side of the field.

Then decide who gets the ball first.

You can not run with the ball. You catch it, stop, and throw it to another teammate. It is kind of like Ultimate Frisbee.

To score you must get the ball in your basket, or trash can.

You win by making the most baskets.

Hints: Game can get rough, watch out for flying elbows. Best played outside or in a gym with a high ceiling.

Critique: Play by ultimate Frisbee rules. More than just two trash cans; maybe have two at each end. Have more then one ball. Pretty good game.

Rules According to Playworks.org

Before You Start

Equipment Needed: Cones; an empty trash can or container; and a soft ball, beanbag, or wadded up piece of paper.

Separate players into teams of 6-8 and have them line up behind the cones.

Set Up

Indoors. Set up one empty container, 2-3 cones to mark where students will stand in line, and three other markers of varying distances from the container.

How to Play

Ask a question related to something the players are learning in class (math problem, spelling word, etc.). Only the players at the front of each line can answer. If someone from the back of the line answers, that line is disqualified for that round.

Whoever answers the question first wins the right to shoot the “ball” into the container.

They have three choices:

1. Shoot from the closest spot (slam dunk) for 1 point. 2. Shoot from the medium spot for 2 points. 3. Shoot from the farthest spot for 3 points.

After each round, the contestants return to end of the line.

Variations

If the shooter misses, the other players at the front of the line get a chance to shoot (greater involvement for everyone).

Give the shooters only one designated spot to shoot from (speeds up the game).

Let all students shoot (good for K-1st).

Rules according to Boy Scout Trail

Required:

a wastebasket 1 or 2 tennis balls, nerf balls, or similar

Instructions:

Everyone stands in a circle around the wastebasket, facing inward. A scout tries to toss a ball into the wastebasket. If a basket is made, the patrol gets 1 point. If it's a miss, the patrol loses 3 points. But, the scout can get those three points back by immediately doing 3 sit-ups, 3 push-ups, or running 1 lap around the circle of scouts. First patrol to a specified score is the winner. You might want to use 2 balls for a larger group. An unbiased leader by the wastebasket could help retrieve the ball and toss it to the next scout.

How Do You Play Trashball?!

Let us know in the comments below

What are you doing to keep busy during the Pandemic?

Playing sports during the Pandemic

Rules from the CDC

What you need to know

Stay home if sick.

Players should bring their own equipment, like gloves and bats, if possible.

Reduce physical closeness and keep 6 feet of space between players when possible.

Wear a mask if possible.

Players should clean their hands before and after practices, games, and sharing equipment.

Tell a coach or staff member if you don’t feel well.

On This Page

Make a game plan to reduce risk

Prepare before you participate

Take steps to protect yourself and others

Checklist for coaches

This information is for youth and adult athletes considering participating in a sports league or team.

This information is not designed to provide guidance to adult sports leagues or organizations who plan or manage competition. CDC does not currently have guidance for adult sports leagues, however organizations and administrators can reference the Considerations for Youth Sports to find strategies for reducing exposure risks during sports competition.

Make a game plan to reduce risk

You can take a number of steps to help lower the risk of COVID-19 exposure and reduce the spread while playing sports.

The more people a participant interacts with, the closer the physical interaction, the more sharing of equipment there is by multiple players, and the longer the interaction, the higher the risk of COVID-19 spread.

Therefore, risk of COVID-19 spread can be different, depending on the type of activity.

Lowest Risk: Performing skill-building drills or conditioning at home, alone or with members of the same household

Increasing Risk: Team-based practice

More Risk: Within-team competition

Higher Risk: Full competition between teams from the same local geographic area (e.g., city or county)

Highest Risk: Full competition between teams from different geographic areas (e.g., outside county or state)

If organizations are not able to keep safety measures in place during competition (for example, keeping participants six feet apart at all times), they may consider limiting participation to within-team competition only (for example, scrimmages between members of the same team) or team-based practices only.

Similarly, if organizations are unable to put in place safety measures during team-based activities, they may choose individual or at-home activities, especially if any members of the team are at an increased risk for severe illness.

Prepare before you participate in sports

Bring supplies to help you and others stay healthy—for example, masks (bring extra), hand sanitizer with at least 60% alcohol, broad spectrum sunscreen with SPF 15 or higher, and drinking water.

Prioritize participating in outdoor activities over indoor activities and stay within your local area as much as possible.

If using an indoor facility, allow previous groups to leave the facility before entering with your team. If possible, allow time for cleaning and/or disinfecting.

Check the league’s COVID-19 prevention practices before you go to make sure they have steps in place to prevent the spread of the virus.

If you are at an increased risk for severe illness or have existing health conditions, take extra precautions and preventive actions during the activity or choose individual or at-home activities.

Take steps to protect yourself and others

Stay home if sick

If the participant has symptoms of COVID-19, has been diagnosed with COVID-19, is waiting for COVID-19 test results, or may have been exposed to someone with COVID-19, they should stay home and not participate in any sports.

Have smaller team sizes

Sports with a large number of players on a team may increase the likelihood of spread compared to sports with fewer team members.

Limit your team to a core group of participants, by restricting non-team players from joining when your team is short players and not adding new members during the season.

Keep space between players in practice areas

Reduce physical closeness between players when possible

Maintain at least 6 feet between yourself and your teammates, other competitors, and officials while actively participating in the sport.

Focus on building individual skills, like batting, dribbling, kicking, and strength training.

Avoid high fives, handshakes, fist bumps or hugs.

Keep space between players in the practice areas, including on the sideline, dugout, and bench.

Wait in car or away from the playing area until just before the warm-up period or the beginning of the game.

Avoid congregating in the parking lot or near the field before or after games.

If it is not possible to avoid congregating, practice social distancing by ensuring there is at least 6 feet between participants.

If social distancing is not possible, wear a mask whenever possible to reduce risk of virus transmission.

Space out spectators by 6 feet

Limit nonessential visitors, spectators, and volunteers. Ensure they wear masks and maintain social distancing.

Wear a mask if possible

Wear masks when able

Wear a mask if feasible, especially when it is difficult to stay less than 6 feet apart from other people or indoors, for example in close contact sports such as basketball.

Lower intensity sports: Emphasize wearing masks and practicing social distancing for lower intensity sports.

Higher intensity sports: People who are engaged in high intensity activities, like running, may not be able to wear a mask if it causes difficulty breathing.

If unable to wear a mask, consider conducting the activity in a location with greater ventilation and air exchange (for instance, outdoors versus indoors) and where it is possible to maintain physical distance from others.

In situations where individuals might raise their voices, such as shouting or chanting, we strongly encourage wearing masks.

For youth athletes, parents, coaches, and sports administrators should decide if the kids need to wear a mask.

It is not known if face shields provide any benefit as source control to protect others from the spray of respiratory particles. CDC does not recommend use of face shields for normal everyday activities or as a substitute for masks.

Minimize sharing of equipment or gear

Encourage players to bring their own equipment

Encourage players to bring their own equipment if possible, like gloves, balls, and helmets.

Limit the use of frequently touched surfaces on the field, court, or play surface.

Bring your own water to minimize use and touching of drinking fountains.

Clean and disinfect shared items between use.

Don’t share towels, clothing, or any items used to wipe your face or hands.

Avoid sharing food, drink containers (e.g., coolers), and utensils.

Minimize spitting. Cover your coughs and sneezes.

When coughing or sneezing, use a tissue or the inside of your elbow. Used tissues should be thrown away and hands washed immediately with soap and water for at least 20 seconds or use hand sanitizer with 60% alcohol.

If soap and water are not readily available, hand sanitizer that contains at least 60% alcohol can be used.

Wash hands

Wash your hands with soap and water for at least 20 seconds or use hand sanitizer with 60% alcohol.

Before and after you play.

Before adjusting your mask—review information about proper use, removal, and washing of masks.

Limit travel outside of your area

Consider competing against teams in your local area (neighborhood, town, or community).

Checklist for coaches

Send a welcome email or call parents (for youth players) and/or players. Inform them about actions that the sports program will take to protect players. Remind them to stay home if sick or if they have been around someone who is sick.

Be a role model. Wear a mask and encourage family members, fans, officials, and sports staff to wear one during practices and games.

Provide hand sanitizer with at least 60% alcohol to players before and after practice/game and encourage them to wash their hands with soap and water.

Educate players about covering coughs and sneezes with a tissue or their elbow. Discourage spitting.

Encourage players to focus on building individual skills

Remind players about social distancing and identify markers (such as signage or tape on floor).

Encourage your players to focus on building their individual skills and cardiovascular conditioning, so they can limit close contact with other players.

Check with your sports administrator to make sure they are following cleaning and disinfection recommendations.

Clean and disinfect frequently touched surfaces on field, court, or play surface (such as drinking fountains) at least daily or between use.

Clean and disinfect shared equipment.

BONUS AFTER SHOW MINI-EPISODE

(VIDEO)

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