Star Wars Super 16 Collegiate Limmie

For the start of this game, please see the temp boards incarnation of this game. This game will only last as long as it takes for us to finish this season. However, don't think there aren't any surprises for you all. Oh no...not at all.

And, as always...

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Tag: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja Dubya_Scott JEDIGUNSHIP JediMaster1511 JediMaster_1977 Liam_Vehn​

 

GM Notice
Bardan_Jusik has generously volunteered to do the remainder of the scores for the Super 16 game, as well as administer the stats in the Library Thread, so I'm not too overtaxed keeping the ELL game running at the same time. He will be posting scores on Saturday in keeping with our college theme. Therefore, you have been warned that you'll need to be one day earlier with your posts if you're a wait-until-the-last-minute kind of person.

Also, if The Ord Saboak University mysteriously goes on a three game winning streak and Chandrila A&M tanks the remainder of its schedule...well, we'll all know who to blame.

All OOC chat for this game should take place in Out of Bounds, the ELL OOC thread. It's just easiest that way.

To help people with posts, here are the most recent scores from this weekend:

Week 4 Results
Grand Vulpter System University at National University (16-17)
Ord Saboak University at Valorum University (19-5)
Cinnagar Imperial College at Republican University (1-5)
Brentaal College of Commerce at UC Bella Vistal (7-30)
Duro State University at College of Fondordelphia (9-29)
Coruscant Polytechnic Institute at University of Kuat (36-35)
Chandrila A&M University at Coruscant Air Fleet Academy (11-4)
Citadel University of Anaxes at University of Coruscant (22-17)

 

Whoops! Double post. My bad.

 

Jayla Leed
Renegade Stadium

The scoreboard at Renegade Stadium read UC Bella Vistal thirty and Brentaal College of Commerce seven. The game was over. It was a blowout as the crowd cheered the home team with whooping and hollering. The mascots were on the field dancing around in circles. The band could be heard playing the UCBV fight song. They were now 4 -0 and going strong. Jayla knew the season was just starting but it was nice that UCBV got off to a good start. Jayla couldn’t have been more proud of her teammates. They were on a roll and the feeling was wonderful.

The team was reminded by the coach not to get too cocky just because we had a few wins. We could always get knocked out of contention. There was always that possibility. Jayla nodded toward the coach gesturing that she understood. Still she couldn’t help feeling so excited at the thought of possibly making the playoffs they needed to continue winning to reach their goal of the championship. Jayla shook her head to come down to reality.

Coach is right i can’t get ahead of myself there are more games to play. We got to continue to improve. She picked up a towel and wiped the sweat from her forehead. She made a note to herself to get in extra practice time. Maybe she can inspire the rest of the team to do this as well. They can always use extra practice time. As long as we are not worn out too much. But for now she wanted to enjoy the moment. They were undefeated and the galaxy couldn’t be better than this day at this time.


TAG: No one

 

IC: Izzi Polakaya
Kuat

It was going down to the wire in the Super Sixteen matchup between the visiting CorTech Mean Green and the University of Kuat Destroyers. After a score by the Destroyers went up on the board, the score read 33 all, with only a handful of minutes left to play. Izzi called in her play; so far, her defense had been shredded once again. This didn’t sit too well with her, because she thought she knew how to play defense well. Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for this kind of job.

As the Mean Green advanced the ball up the field, Izzi ran through her playbook for options. If CorTech managed to score on this jaunt up the field, perhaps she would go conservative and let her defenders drop back into zone coverage. If they failed to score, single coverage would probably be her best option unless the offense could corral the missed shot and keep the possession alive. Looking up, she was able to see Malida Worody, the freshman forward, punch the ball over the bar for a point. 34-33 CorTech. Worody was playing out of her mind; she had already racked up 16 points in the game, which had already set the school freshman scoring record. Her 16 points put her one point from tying to all-time school record in one game, set by a player from that magical title run almost eight decades before that still stood as CorTech’s last Super Sixteen championship. She was going to be an impact player for a long time, as she still had three years left of eligibility to use if she so desired. And, if she decided to go pro early, undoubtedly someone would pick her up and give her a shot. That was the thing about Super Sixteen Limmie; if you glowed here, you would most likely have a solid pro career.

The next time the Destroyers came up the field, Izzi made sure to call in the bump-and-run formation. This had worked the week before against the Academy, and it was worth a shot since the Destroyers were getting it done in their passing game. Tank Bratter slammed into the Kuat forward, who was able to complete a pass to Byfuglien. The young Kuat forward slipped past Mavrin Cancatch, yet another CorTech freshman, and notched a point over the bar. 34 all was the score, and Izzi sighed. Not again. At this rate, the Mean Green defense was going to be the worst one in the entire league.

“It hasn’t been your day,” Martin Locke, the head coach, said.

“It hasn’t been my year,” Izzi said glumly. “We just can’t get stops out there.”

“The season’s still young,” Locke replied. “And you kept our last opponent to only four points, so the defense has made progress. You just need to find a way to dig deep and execute, because who cares about stats? As long as you have a ‘W’ up on the board, that’s all that matters.”

On offense again, Worody pushed the ball over the bar once again, allowing her to tie the school record. However, Izzi was doubtful that the freshman was even aware of the record; from the look of it, the Togruta instantly fell back on defense, trying to preserve the win for the Mean Green. 35-34 Mean Green. However, it didn’t take long for the Destroyers to score again, burning CorTech goalie Lomin Matema with another bar shot to make it 35 all.

Now there was just a minute left, and the Kuat faithful were starting to crank up the intensity. They could feel that this one was going to be special. Millar Strawk was downed easily by the Destroyers defense, and Kuat got the ball back. Byfuglien ran the ball forwards and, had it not been for a smart play by Cancatch in desperation, Matema in goal would easily have been torched for another score, because he had been out of position completely in goal. The ball skittered out of bounds, and Tank, weary, called for a timeout.

Tank came over to the sidelines, the sweat drenching his face. He looked completely gassed, almost as if barely had enough energy left to stand. “Coach . . . I’m done . . . someone else has to lead . . .”


(Start at 4:10)

Izzi grabbed Tank’s shoulder. She wasn’t going to let him give up. “Tank, this is when it matters most. I know you’re tired, it’s easy to leave when you’re strong, but now is when you lead us, right now! Can you give me one more minute? I just need one more minute!”

“All right, one more,” Tank said.

“Come here! Come here!” Izzi shouted to her players, who came over wearily. Reena had her hands on her hips, sweat dripping off her face. Mavrin looked gassed, as did Brancko. “Look at me, look at me! We didn’t fight this hard just to give up in the last few minutes! You’ve gotta leave everything on the field! I need you for one more minute! Who’s with me?!” The players wearily put their hands in the center of the huddle, but Izzi hoped that maybe, somehow, they would find their second wind and make something happen.

When the Destroyers inbounded the ball, their receiver was smothered instantly by Tank, who ripped down the ballcarrier with tremendous force with the form tackle. Getting up, he shouted to his teammates: “Duracrete wall! Duracrete wall!” Izzi picked up on this, and began to shout it herself. If the Mean Green wanted to win this one, they would have to create a duracrete wall out there, meaning don’t budge an inch. Make the Destroyers come to them, and don’t give up ground. The ball made its way across the field to another Destroyer, but Reena was right there to make the stop. Once again the Destroyers tried to move the ball, but Brancko swooped in to pummel the carrier. To Izzi, this was a thing of beauty. It reminded her of the ‘Wall’ on the Senators; she saw the essence, the soul, the heart, of those four Senators in these college kids right there. Dirxx, Shayt, Shev, Jerek, they were all manifested here by Tank, Reena, Brancko, and Mavrin. They could do this.

About twenty seconds were left, and the Destroyers seemed to be intent on scoring here. They weren’t going to kick for the point; this was goal territory. Izzi looked at Kuat coach Conn Smythe, who was yelling for his team to punch the ball into the back of the net. The seconds were ticking away, and the Destroyers made their play. But, once again, Tank was there, causing the ball to squirt out of the Kuat forwards’ possession and skitter onto the field. Mavrin picked it up and began to run upfield. He went quite a ways before being tackled down about thirty meters from the goal. The clock read 3 seconds left, and Locke quickly called a timeout. As the Mean Green players came up, the coaches huddled together.

“We have to go for the long bomb,” Pryce Kniferunner, the offensive coordinator, said. “It’s our only option.”

“We can’t score on that,” Byla Dos, the midfield coach, replied. “Their defense won’t allow it.”

“We need to kick it,” Izzi said.

“Kick it? Are you crazy?” Pryce asked incredulously.

“We have no other choice,” Locke finally said. “We have to kick it.”

“We don’t have anyone strong enough to get it that far,” Pryce said.

“Yes we do,” Locke said. “Dalid! We need to you to kick a bar point!”

The freshman zoomball player, who had walked on to the team earlier that week, looked up at his coach. “Coach, I can’t,” he said. “The longest I’ve ever made it from is twenty meters, and that was in practice. I can’t kick it that far.”

“Dalid, they’ve been stopping our other modes of attack all day. You’re my best option,” Locke said. He knew that he was running out of time.

“There is no way I can make that!” Dalid said.

“I believe that you can, and we need you on that field,” Locke said. Dalid ran hesitantly onto the field for the first time ever, and the people in the crowd were stunned. Why wasn’t another CorTech player trying this kick? Surely Renhorn or Worody could make this if they were indeed kicking it? The wind was even against Dalid, so everyone thought that they might as well hunker down for overtime. No way a freshman, making his Limmie debut, could make this long of a kick against the wind, in a game situation, on the road, for the winning kick. There was just too much pressure.

Conn Smythe then called for a timeout, just to try and ice the Mean Green’s kick attempt. Dalid came over to the sideline. “Dalid, I know you can make this kick. We need you to.”



“I can’t . . .” Dalid said once again.

“Just give me your best effort out there, and we’ll leave the rest up to whatever deity you believe or don’t believe in,” Locke said. “Now get out there and get it done.”

Dalid trotted back out onto the field. Brancko was going to inbound the ball from the sidelines, and the Mean Green players had created a protective wall around Dalid. Gayla Renhorn, the senior captain, came up to the wide-eyed freshman. “We’re counting on you,” she said, and then went back to her position in the formation.

Behind the goalposts, Dalid’s father, confined to a hoverchair most of his life because of a crippling disease, grabbed a piece of the fence that surround the field. He put his feet gingerly on the ground, and then tried to stand. “Do you need help, sir?” asked an usher.

“No. I’m doing this for my son,” the man replied. He was finally able to stand on his own two feet, and then propped himself up on it. Then, he raised his arms in the signal that referees used to signify bar points.

Dalid looked at the clock, then at the Kuat players, then at the goalposts. But, he saw something else in the corner of his eye. His father was giving him the score signal . . . and he was standing on his own two feet. “Dad . . .” Dalid said, shock evident in his voice. “I need to make this kick.” Moving his mouthpiece around a little, he steeled himself for the kick.

“Kick it now!” Locke shouted from the sidelines.

The ball came in from Nagriski, and the hold by Alyda Hovechar was perfect. Dalid’s foot connected with the ball, and the force of the kick caused him to land on his backside. All eyes in the stadium watched as the ball soared through the air gracefully, the laces spinning like mad. Dalid could only watch as the ball began to drop from the sky, and a collective intake of breath was obvious in the stadium. The ball finally sneaked in past the left upright and was over the goal bar. Bar point Dalid Adreson, score CorTech, 36-35 Mean Green victory.

The Mean Green partisan crowd went nuts, and the Destroyers faithful were crushed. They had lost the game on a play that no one thought could be made. Dalid was instantly swarmed by his teammates, who then put him up on their shoulders and they carried him around the field. Dalid was enjoying every moment of it, and Izzi had to smile. The kid had done well, and now CorTech was 3-1 going into a showdown with Duro State the next week. What a kick, what a game for CorTech.

TAG: Dubya_Scott

 

IC: Templeton Peck, Head coach (provisional), The Ord Sabaok University
OSU Athletic Center

Things were starting to look up again at OSU. The hard part of their schedule was behind them. Next up was Cinnagar Imperial College, a team that stood right now at 1-3. Their only victory to date had been against National, which would be the following weeks matchup. Finally they would end their season against winless BCC. The StarBucks themselves were coming off of a win against previously unbeaten Valorum U. Taking on two undefeated opponenets in a row could have sunk the StarBucks season, but they had pulled through. Granted they had lost to the Rengades, but it didn't look like anyone could match up with them this year.

Still at 2-2, Peck's future was not secured. There were pitfalls to be had. Of the three remaining games this season 2 were on the road. this weeks game had all the makings of a "letdown game".
Coming off of a great win over VU, it had been hard to motivate the players for a CIC. But Peck had done his best trying to ready the team. Three games left, the first four had followed a patern, loss-win, loss-win. No winning streak, no losing streaks. He talked to the team leaders, he wanted them to stop treading water and to take control of their own season. They might not make the Carnation Bowl, but they still had the chance to come away as winners and finish the season strong. It was time to swim.

Once again he had wokred late into the night, every night, in preparation for the game. His wife seemed more distant all the time, the result of hardly seeing him to be sure. That would change when the season was over he promised himself. Once his future (or at least his job next year) was secured he would spend more time with her and his family. It was all coming together now, and soon everything would be fine.

TAG: No one (Playing an NPC team this week).

 

IC: Max Qorbus
Falcons Nest, Coruscant

With the Rovers holding a slim 6-4 lead, it was still very much anyone's game. Contrary to what the Old Dog had predicted, this had been a game of defense, not offense. It was an ugly, grinding game. During half time the groundscrew had rushed to replace divots that had literally been torn out of the pristine field by cleats clawing for every single micron of space. Max had carried the ball plenty in this game and every time he'd been hit by an Air Fleet player. The same thing was happening down at the other end. The Rovers defense had stepped up in a big way today, a way that they hadn't against Duro State. Sure, that had been a convincing performance, but that was a runaway. This game was close and they were not yielding an inch, unlike last week against Kuat.

The Hapan Hotness was in their element today too. They were dishing out punishment left and right--mainly Becki who was using her height to absolutely demolish Falcons who were trying to breakout. Her white jersey had more green on it than any other color given how much she'd been on the ground today, hauling Falcons with her. On the other side of the field, Morgan was trying to put the pressure on scoring wise, but she had very little time to work with. The pressure, like it was on Max, was constant and her boots were going wide because she simply didn't have the time to accurately kick them.

Max found that he was constantly covered by the Falcons defense. He'd gotten one point in today--not a great showing but an accomplishment given the away that this game was going. That point had been a quick pop over the bar, simple but effective. Since then he hadn't had anywhere near the same level of scoring opportunity. These Falcons seemed to learn fast.

The Rovers' lead was tenuous at best. Max could feel how dangerously close they were to losing control of the game. With less than a goal separating the teams, the home crowd was very much a factor and they weren't shy about being loud. On field communication was hard. He could sometimes only catch snippets of yelling from his teammates. Though they were now a seasoned team with three games under their belt, Max didn't feel confident that the Freshmen and first season starters were going to anticipate him as well as the Juniors and Seniors were. That meant he was putting a lot of trust in the Hapans right now to read him.

It was that trust that paid off.

Max broke from his side of the field to streak for the middle when Becki got a rare possession. As usual, she had next to no time, which meant that Max had to really turn on the afterburners to shake his defender and get open. Becki picked him up and put a firm, laser like pass into space. With position on the defender, Max pulled the ball in cleanly and looped towards the net. He could feel the AFA defense closing like a vice on him as they stepped up to protect their goal and Max trusted his instinct and passed off to the side, hoping and praying that his blind pass would find its mark.

Morgan Allesh was there and she had room, the ball having drawn in the AFA defense. It was perhaps her most room all day and she had a good bar point. But Allesh didn't take it. She was going for the goal now to really put this game away in the second half. A 5 point lead would be the biggest for either team today and would seal things for the Rovers. The Falcons knew this and they bore down on the Hapan. She hurled the ball towards the goal and the Falcon keeper.

And out of thin air, forgotten so quickly by the Falcons, Max popped up and in a giant wave of tendrils bonked his head forward to redirect the ball into the opposite corner of the net, the opposite direction from the falling goalkeeper.

Before the netting had even ceased swaying Max sliced through the air with a celebratory uppercut and a primal yell of joy before being mobbed by his teammates. The crowd, boisterous seconds before, had fallen into shocked silence with hands on heads and looks of disbelief at the sudden reversal of fortunes.

The score would eventually finish at 11-4. With a grin, Max accepted the game ball in the locker room, a well deserved trophy for one of the great highlights of his career thus far.

Tag: JediMaster_1977

 

IC: Bo Thomas
Sel Zonn Stadium

A few more games and the biggest disappointment of my life can be over Thomas thought as he pretended to smile and wave to the crowd in anticipation of the game against Valorum University.

Coaching the Merchants was a challenge. Getting them to even want to play the game of Limmie was a nightmare. For everything else, Thomas enjoyed giving the galaxy an obscene gesture. Truth was, he hated this job. BCC was no college school and lacked any rich Limmie tradition. They certainly weren't as glorified as Chandrila A & M or those pompous asses at the Ord Sabaok University. Everywhere he went, every time he turned on the Holonet, those pretentious little frakkers were emphasizing the word the. As if they were something special. As if they had something to be proud of and well they did. They had money. They had nice uniforms. They had hot cheerleaders. They had tradition. They had, they had, they had.

And Bo Thomas had nothing but a string of losses to show for his efforts. His time coaching Limmie might've been more productive if he played golf at the local resort. At least the kids on his squad had an interest in that.

The people who had gathered to watch the action between the BCC Merchants and Valorum University were idiots. There was no other way around this conundrum. Some poor alumnus had dragged his rear halfway around the galaxy to see his old school lose. The sad thing about it? His family was there with him. Some wife who was too stressed out trying to manage their insanely hyperactive kids from kicking the person in front of them or spilling their hot dog full of ketchup and mustard on the shirt of a neighbor had been dragged into the game. Dragged into something she was forced to pretend to like.Maybe she pretended about their marriage too, but who could tell these days?

Yeah, Thomas thought, we have something in common. We both really, really, hate this season. And we both know there's nothing we can do about it but take it right up the--

"The game's about to start, coach," one of the refs announced.

"Great, can't wait," Thomas replied rolling his eyes.

The game was about to begin. Thomas wanted to run away and hide but his ailing sense of pride kept him where he stood.

Take it like a man, Bo. Just smile and nod, wave to the crowd, pretend to get mad at your players, pretend to give two hoots.

Tag: No One!

 

IC: Vic McTodd
GVSU, Nur, Vulpter System

Three weeks. That’s all it took. Three short weeks was how long it took for everything in Vic’s junior year to fall to pieces. At the start of the season he had energy and vigor and it showed in the game against the Brentaal Merchants. GVSU 11, BCC 2

Things were going good and it looked like this might be the year for them to string together two straight victories in The Game. Everyone on the squad was pumped and the entire campus was going crazy with Game fever. They even had shirts printed up parodying a popular holo-commercial about the “most interesting man in the galaxy”. On the front it said, “I don’t often hate but when I do… I prefer to hate the Ord Sabaok StarBucks.” Then on the back it read, “Stay Victorious My Friends.” GVSU 7, OSU 30

Next up they went back on the road to Commenor to face off against the undefeated Valorum Knights. They had been rolling their opponent by an average of 26 points. Meanwhile the Pilots were only averaging 9 offensive points. The game was over before it even started. GVSU 4, VU 25

During the week that followed things got intense in his personal life. Vic’s parents had caught up with the team when they traveled to National University. Their visit had been unannounced so when he caught sight of them as he stepped off the team shuttle, he quickly dropped Marmu’s hand, which he had been holding. Just this one little gesture was enough to start the couple on a fight that shook their relationship to the core. The night before the game Marmu sent him a datapad message saying that they should spend some time a part for a little while. GVSU 16, NU 17

After that match he suddenly found himself with a heart that had been broken twice in as many days. Now they were back home and it was time to gear up for the Border War. It was time for them to fill that empty space in the hall of trophies. It was time to make a run to the playoffs of epic proportiosn.

It was time to Beat Republican U!

TAG: spycoder9

 

Week 5 results

Bonus rolls to BCC, GVSU, OSU, UC Bella Vista, Polytech, Chandrila A&M

Ord Saboak University at Cinnagar Imperial College (22-7)
UC Bella Vista at National University (22-30)
Valorum University at Brentaal College of Commerce (24-29)
Republican University at Grand Vulpter System University (16-15)
Duro State University at Coruscant Polytechnic Institute (2-39)
University of Kuat at Citadel University of Anaxes (12-11)
Coruscant Air Fleet Academy at College of Fondordelphia (24-4)
University of Coruscant at Chandrila A&M University (21-38)

TAG: CPL_Macja, Trieste, JEDIGUNSHIP, Dubya_Scott, JediMaster_1977, JEDI_TEEGIRLOO, Liam_Vehn, spycoder9, Padawan4687

 

IC: Izzi Polakaya
Mean Green Stadium

http://arrangerspublishingcompany.com/marching.php?page=3&alpha=d
(Go to "Frankenstein")

Quite the rout was shaping up early at Mean Green Stadium. The opening kickoff was returned all the way down the field, and within ten seconds CorTech was already on the board against the Duro State University Dark Horses with a goal by Jobny Bee’Guud. The Bothan had beaten the Duro goalie with a pump fake to his right, and then chucked it left into the back of the net. On the first defensive possession of the game, the Dark Horses were stopped cold when Tank Bratter stuffed DSU’s star forward Moval and forced a fumble. Alyda Hovechar, who had dropped back in coverage, picked up the ball and rifled it forward to a flying Malida Worody. The freshman Togruta, coming off a school freshman-record 17 points scored in the win over Kuat the week before, dodged two tackles and tiptoed her way down the sideline. She checked her options, and most of them were covered, so she decided to take things in her own hands. She sidestepped a second effort tackle and finally threw a corkscrew shot that took an odd bounce off the turf and somehow slipped past the DSU goalie for another CorTech goal. 6-0 lead for the Mean Green, and the game was only three minutes old.

As the first half wore on, and the Mean Green piled on the points, Izzi realized that, unlike the week before, her defense was keeping it locked down on all fronts. When Moval tried to keep the ball moving, a CorTech defender always seemed to be there to bring him down with a huge tackle, killing many a DSU drive on offense. It was amazing to see this defensive unit, maligned all season, finally gel with each other, sealing all of the gaps and smothering any Dark Horse advance. Tank had forced two fumbles, Reena Wyley had intercepted two passes, and Brancko Nagriski had put in several big hits on defense, and DSU generally looked intimidated. It was a thing of beauty to behold.

At halftime, the rout was on. CorTech held a comfortable lead at 24-2. Already, seven CorTech players had put their names on the stat sheet with points, meaning that Pryce Kniferunner’s offense was keeping the Dark Horse defense on their toes and guessing. In the middle of the field, Gayla Renhorn and Alyda Hovechar were harassing their counterparts every time down the field, keeping the DSU middies on their backs most of the time so that they couldn’t pressure the CorTech defense. On defense, the Mean Green wasn’t giving DSU anything, the only two points scored on them so far results of miscommunication between players that opened gaping holes in the coverage. On the overall, a stifling performance, and one that almost no one thought was possible from CorTech.

“This is what we’re capable of every week!” Martin Locke exclaimed to his team at halftime. “Defense, I have no idea how you’re keeping this up, but whatever you’re doing, don’t let up! We need to send a message to DSU that we’re not going to let them get any breathing room out there. If things keep going like this, I’m going to start cycling players in so that we’re rested for next week. Now, let’s finish this game and pick up the win.”

The second half was exactly like the first half. Izzi’s single coverage, for the first time in a while, was actually working. DSU’s offense was nonexistent, each of their players being met each time they moved the ball by a CorTech defender. It only took seven minutes in the second half before Locke began to take his defensive starters out of the game as it became apparent that the Dark Horses weren’t coming back in this one. When Tank came over to the sidelines for the final time of the game, Izzi made sure to intercept him. “Great job out there, Tank,” she said to the senior Herglic.

“Thanks,” Tank replied.

“Where has this been as year?” Izzi asked.

“I don’t know,” Tank said, “but I’m really liking this game. We’ve done one hell of a job today.”

“Keep it up next week,” Izzi responded.

Tank turned to leave, but then he stopped and looked back at his defensive coordinator. “You are going to be back next week, right?”

“Tank, I’ve already said that Pryce and I are sticking around until the end of the season,” Izzi said.

“But you’ll lose your job,” Tank said. “I’d hate to see you lose your gig with the Senators because you were coaching here in college.”

“You know, Tank,” Izzi said, “I really don’t miss playing there.”

“Is Wynn that bad?” Tank asked as his replacement, Herb Culotin, ran out onto the field.

“‘Bad’ is an understatement,” Izzi said sullenly. “She’s a good coach in what she knows, but she always seems to be on a witch hunt against us. It’s been a complete disaster, and I’m glad to be out of that madhouse.”

“Well, I hope you get a good job next season,” Tank said. “Would you consider coming back and coaching here next season? I think some of the younger players would like it if you came back?”

“I don’t know, Tank, I really don’t know,” Izzi said. “I’ll look at where we are at the end of the season and go from there.”

“All right,” Tank said. He went over to the bench, grabbed a cup of Gundarkade, and began chatting with Reena and Mavrin Cancatch. Izzi had to admit that her defense was finally getting the job done in all facets of the game, and that if they could keep this momentum up the next week, they would have a good chance of winning their next game. Out on the field, the CorTech reserves were keeping up the pressure on DSU, several reserves scoring their first points of the season in the process. Backup forward Telin Wrenn, for instance, dodged some tired DSU defenders and deposited the ball into the back of the net for her first career goal. She was smothered by her reserve teammates, who were happy to finally be seeing some decent playing time after sitting most of the last four games on the bench. On the next play, after a nice save by Neeva Kourat in goal, Crash Hyl’okk ‘crashed in’ and tossed the ball over the bar for a point past the backup Dark Horse goalie.

http://arrangerspublishingcompany.com/marching.php?page=3&alpha=d
(Go to "Give Up the Funk")

When all was said and done, the score was CorTech 39, Duro State 2. The dejected Dark Horse players walked off the field, but the Mean Green squad stayed on the field. They had some tradition to uphold. The band began to play the Fight Song, and the Limmie team, arms linked as they stood single-file in a line, began to sing the words to the song as they swayed back and forth. When the song ended, the players began to let the moment sink in; what a game, what a season so far. Several of the players started to sign autographs for fans in the stands, while others were doing interviews with stations covering the team. Izzi, although she had played in the Elite League for a while, finally saw here what she had most liked about college Limmie; things at the high level of pro Limmie were just so stuffy and formal. In college, the players could just be kids and have fun, which pros never had the chance to do. It brought back a bunch of fond memories for her during her days with the Tavolva Warriors, and these Mean Green players reminded her of how she and her teammates celebrated big wins in front of their home crowd, listening to the fight song and generally feeding off the crowd’s energy. It was a sight to behold, and Izzi knew that she was having much more fun here than listening to Aileen Wynn’s condescending remarks at Senators practice. Yes, she would stay through the end of the season here, soaking it all in and, hopefully in the process, perhaps adding some valuable stuff to her resume if her Senators career came to a sudden halt.

Next up was a home game against the College of Fondordelphia, in the “Techmo Bowl”. The prize at the end of this game was the Golden Datapad, which had been enshrined as a trophy after a game fifty or so years earlier when CorTech had left a datapad containing their playbook on the bench after a game versus the college, and the Ions had threatened to send the datapad to the University of Coruscant for their game the next week against the Mean Green. The datapad was then returned to CorTech, but both schools had been greatly affected by that incident, and had created the trophy to commemorate the new rivalry. If CorTech won this game, it would mark the first time they had ever won the Coruscanti Cup, Green-Hawk Cup, and the Golden Datapad in the same season. That would be quite the accomplishment, but every game in the Super Sixteen was a challenge, so CorTech knew that it would have to be ready for the Ions the next week if they wanted to leave with a win.

 

IC: Max Qorbus
Marbury Stadium, Serenity, Chandrila

"Who's a good boy?" Becki Morlan said standing next to Max at the very lip of the tunnel into Marbury Stadium, "You're a good boy. Yes you are. Yes you are!"

The patronizing attitude was actually rather offensive...if it had been directed at the Nautolan. However, the Hapan was fawning over Oliver the bloodwolf, mascot of the Rovers, who was jumping up and down on his leash. This was part of A&M tradition, coming out of the tunnel at the start of the game. It was something of an art that they'd perfected over the years here on Chandrila. After all, they loved their pageantry at Stoney End (only on Chandrila would they use classical music before the team entered the field) and it stood to reason that they wouldn't stint when it came to their college sport. Sure, every team entered the field at every game, but they did things a certain way at A&M.

In front of Max stood the cheerleaders in their maroon uniforms. Max scanned them out of idle curiosity. He'd suddenly remembered that Pantoran girl he'd seen at the campus pub. Wouldn't it be a kick if she turned out to be a cheerleader? He'd forgotten to check during the CorTech game what with all the emotion of that game. But as he looked he didn't see any blue skin anywhere. She certainly wasn't first string if she was a cheerleader. Then again, Max hadn't gotten that vibe off her back at the bar...but given the crowd it was pretty hard to get any sort of an accurate vibe on anyone.

"Okay, we ready?" Cordell hollered from the front of the team, just a few steps in front of Max. "All right!" he said, not actually waiting for much of a reply, "Let's go!" He spun one finger around in a circle above his head to give the gameday crew the go ahead.

Oliver's handler bent down on one knee, ruffled the canine's head, and unclipped the leash from his collar. The well-trained canine knew exactly what to do--especially because there was a very tasty reward for him waiting when he was finished. He shot off like a bolt and the Limmie team started running behind him. The cheerleaders, arms linked, were already running out onto the field to the strains of the A&M fight song played by the band.


The crowd clapped and cheered as the Limmie team came out into the sunlight. Ahead of them, Oliver was a red streak across the field as he headed for the opposite end of the field where another handler was waiting for him. Before Max and his compadres had even made it a quarter of the way across the field the bloodwolf had already reached his destination where he was rewarded with a treat and was once again tethered by a leash.

Maximus had to admit, he loved the adoration that the crowd gave him as he came out onto the field. It was a thrill, a rush, a feeling of belonging. At the start of the game, no matter what had happened the game before, they were there behind them. They had to earn those cheers from thereon out, but for those few minutes, it was a beautiful, glorious moment where all things were possible.

The Nautolan took up his starting position for the game, opposite a Hawkbat defender. UC hadn't had a great season, but that was no reason to get lax.

"Here we go," Max said to no one in particular.

---

After last week's defensive master performance, today was turning into a far more wide open game scoring wise, but that was playing to the Rovers' strength. Unlike last week, the Hawkbat defense had absolutely no answer for anyone offensively. The Hapans were getting into the scoring swing today. They dealt less hits than they did points, which was a pretty shocking change for them. The score, which was spiraling upward seemingly every minute, however, was largely being driven by the front three of the A&M team, and Max was leading the charge.

Everything he was doing today was going right. Lob a ball over the bar? It sailed in neatly. Pick a corner on the goal? The keeper was powerless to stop it. In fact, Max had two goals on the day. One more would bring him the coveted hat trick. It was not every day that someone put that up. And the truth was that though Max wanted to win, he wanted that hat trick too. It was a Max-first thought, not team-first, and if Cordell knew he had it, he's sure the Old Dog would pull him in a heartbeat. And Max knew that time was coming soon anyways. The Old Dog had not been too happy with the 14-20 halftime score, so the first line stayed out there. But the Rovers were starting to pull away. At 17-25, the gap was beginning to widen. Truth was that two more points were probably all that Cordell was going to allow before he started removing starters to protect his skill players. If this score held, the Rovers were probably punching a ticket to the division playoffs and Cordell would definitely be thinking ahead about that.

Max was on the clock now. Though there was a good 20 minutes left in the game, he decided he needed to step up his game like he only had 2 minutes on the clock.

The very next pass that he got from Allesh he knew he needed to convert on. He juked his defender and got some space in the middle of the room. He put the ball on the ground to square up for a kick on the goal. The weary, overworked Hawkbat goalkeeper came out to cut down on the angle, but Max neatly dribbled the ball to the left and then to the right and then back to the left and BOOM. He put a laser past the keeper who was going the other way for his third goal of the day.


The crowd rose to its feet in joy as the Rover lead went into the double digits and the band struck up the "victory clog", the quick little ditty that they played after goals. Max was immediately mobbed by the rest of the Front Six, plus both midfielders, who knew that he'd just put up a hat trick. There were even a few caps that had been lobbed onto the field in commemoration of the achievement.

"Frak yeah Max!" Becki shouted as she crushed her teammate in a hug. Suddenly Max felt a lot more sorry for members of the opposing team that Becki wrapped up in a tackle. Damn the girl had a vice grip.

"Way to go man!" Morgan said as she battered Max's head with well intentioned congratulatory pats.

The celebration broke up after 20 seconds or so, but before play could get underway, Cordell signaled the ref for substitutions. Off came Qorbus, Allesh, and Morlan, A&M's top forwards. Cordell clapped as they came off the field, a rare sign of approval, which was echoed by the fans who rose to their feet to honor the day's heroes.

"Nice work Qorbus," Cordell said, slapping Max on the back as he passed.

"Jeez, I think somebody's got a man crush on you," Becki whispered teasingly.

"Oh yeah. He's gonna have you over for drinks after this one," Morgan concurred.

Max was happy to take the grief today. A hat trick and what would end up being a decisive offensive showing by the Rovers, a fourth win in five outings? Yeah, it was a good day.

Tag: Nobody, except clog music lovers

 

IC: Dan Peralto and Biff Wyznicki

“. . . and the track team is back in action next week in the Academy Invitational, where they’ll be pitted against the Fleet Academy, plus a few solid schools from the rest of the Core,” Wyznicki said to the camera. “Now, moving on to Limmie. Dan, what are your thoughts on the season so far?”

Dan Peralto looked at the camera. “I must say that I am blown away by this team’s resolve. They just don’t quit, even when they’re up big. Coming into the season, I was afraid that depth was going to be a big issue, and to an extent it has been, but not nearly as much as I thought.”

“That was quite the impressive win last week over Duro State,” Wyznicki said. “I mean, 39-2 at home? Either the Dark Horses are just that bad, or the Mean Green are really hitting their stride right now.”

“What a win,” Peralto replied. “That gives them four wins on the season, with just the Techmo Bowl and Citadel left on the schedule before the playoffs, and their one loss was coming off a mental meltdown for the team and school, so perhaps had the two teams been even then that game would have been more competitive.”

“So, do you think that CorTech has a chance to make it to the playoffs this season, something they haven’t done in quite a while?”

“The chances are very good that they will finish in the top four of the division, punching their ticket to the playoffs,” Peralto said. “A win in one of the final two games will lock up a berth, but I think even if there is a sluff-off in the final two games, CorTech is still in good position. However, I’d prefer that they take destiny into their own hands and just seal the deal this week with the College coming in.”

“I think that it will require at least one more win,” Biff said. “A&M most likely will be the front-runner, and you can never count a few of those other teams out. The Academy has cooled off after their blistering start, but they are always dangerous, and if the Ions of Fondordelphia get out of here with a win this next week, that will make things real interesting in the division. Two losses here to finish the season will force the Mean Green to watch and see what other teams do down the stretch. And, given how things can change almost instantly here in the Super Sixteen, one game could make all the difference.”

“So, what are your thoughts on the team so far?” Dan asked, changing up the show format by asking the question this time instead of answering them the first time around.

“The offense is amazing,” Biff said, grinning. “150 points scored in five games? That’s lights-out. If it wasn’t for the defensive lapses in that A&M game, the Mean Green could be staring down at everyone else in the division. They came into the season with a questionable-at-best offensive unit, and they’ve only taken several solid Limmie squads to the woodshed in their first five games, plus they roughed up A&M pretty badly in that game. It’s amazing to see how they’ve put the pieces together and just keep racking up the points.”

“Malida Worody is everything that we hoped she would be, and then some,” Peralto added.

“Super Sixteen voters should take notice, because this girl belongs on the All-Conference team,” Biff said.

“That’s a rather bold statement, partner,” Dan said, taken aback.

“I mean it! Worody is the best freshman forward in the entire conference!” Biff exclaimed. “Given what CorTech has had to deal with over the last year, and the inexperience across that front line, and yet a freshman can come in on Day One and absolutely pummel Super Sixteen defenses? That takes a lot of skill, and Worody is just dripping in athleticism. She’s a physical freak, and will only get better. But the best part about it is that she’s not the only one scoring. I think I can count what, seven different Mean Green players who have double digits in points scored this season? Kniferunner’s Senator-like offensive scheme is forcing opposing teams to come out on the wings to try and challenge, which leaves the interior of their defensive zone vulnerable. Keeping the ball moving and spreading the ball around is certainly paying dividends right now. Dizzy Rol’per is proving that he is better than advertised, and Gayla Renhorn . . . what can I say . . . she’s just playing her usual hard-nosed ball and is keeping opposing midfielders in check with her blend of scoring and defense.”

“What about the defense?”

“They’re up and down, but last week’s shutdown of DSU showed me that they have more games like that in them. Moval of the Dark Horses didn’t score a single point in that game, which tells me that he didn’t get any room to operate in. When you suffocate star players like that, your chances for winning increase significantly. So, before you can ask me another question, which is my job, what are your thoughts on the Techmo Bowl this week? Can CorTech pick up another win and bring home the Golden Datapad?”

“I think they can,” Peralto said. “The Ions haven’t really impressed me that much this season, and if CorTech can keep its offensive juggernaut going, then they have a real good shot at winning this game and bringing home all three trophies for the first time ever.”

“The Mean Green offense needs to watch out for the Tullo brothers on defense for the Ions,” Biff said. “If they get room to operate in, watch out. They were both named players to watch before this season, and so far they have lived up to that billing. CorTech needs to overload the defense of the Ions with extra attackers if they hope to keep the Tullos out of the play. The rest of the Ions defense looks suspect, so I expect Worody and company to have at least a decent day. However, I wouldn’t be too surprised if they can get the gears moving and blow out the Ions if things go right on offense.”

“Anyways, so do we have rumors for this week?” Dan asked.

“Yes we do,” Biff said. “CorTech hosted a dozen prospects for official visits this past week at the game against DSU, including several with star ratings. Although no one has committed yet, and as we all know verbal commitments mean next to nothing right now, there seems to be some interest in the program. Alevis Kohle, who had previously verballed to the Coruscant School of Mines, has now reopened his options after receiving a scholarship offer from the Mean Green. He also lists Derrling on his list of schools, so CorTech will have to beat out both the Miners and Techsters in order to get this one-star defender.”



“As you may know, Kohle has been featured a few times during his prep career for spectacular plays, especially a forced fumble in the final seconds that preserved his teams’ win in the district quarterfinals last season. If he comes to CorTech, expect some added physicality because Kohle says that he will bulk up a bit over the offseason before heading to college. If his play the last two seasons is any indication, he will be a good player in college, and we can only hope that he will choose CorTech.”


“What about Powappa, that Wookiee?” Dan asked. “I mean, we could always use a hairball . . . er . . . Wookiee.”

“I forgot about him,” Biff said, face-palming. “Yes, he was there last week with the other official recruits, and from what we could tell, he was impressed by what CorTech has to offer. When he goes to college, he’ll be the first in his family to ever do so, coming in from Kashyyyk. However, we’ll have to try and pry him loose from the grasp of Gargarrump U, a powerhouse from the KAAC, the Kashyyyk Associated Athletic Conference who is coming off their second consecutive league title, so this will be a tall order. However, if we can get him, he should be an ample replacement for Renhorn at midfield. I’m sure that Alyda Hovechar won’t mind having a Wookiee watching her back next season as running mate. His offense is limited from the game footage I’ve seen, but he looks to be a solid defender.”

“What’s the word on Jabarr Gravess?” Peralto asked. “I know that he was making his visit last week, but I didn’t get to see him.”



“Ah, him,” Biff said. “Gravess is a two-star wing player coming out of Highrise High on Denon, where he has been a two-year captain and all-league player the last three years. He should be a good one, probably in the mold of Aron Rodders of the Bakura Miners if he can develop his accuracy a little more. Guy can score and can dish the ball around, and with some solid time put in on the practice field he could easily become the set-up man for the Mean Green. Outstanding offers are from the University of Denon-Eastlake, Biggelow College, Anchorhead University of Tatooine, Derrling here on Coruscant, and CorTech.”

“Anchorhead?” Dan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Not sure why they’re going after a kid from Denon, really.”

“Apparently they are,” Biff said, shrugging. “The Speeders are dominant in the Tatooine-10 Conference, and they seem to think that Gravess can replace their all-conference full forward with a platoon involving this kid. Word is that he is leaning towards signing with them, but Gravess should really be looking at CorTech. He would belong here, that’s for sure.”

“And what’s the word on Ava Killenger?” Dan asked. “I did see her at the game on Saturday, and from what I could see, she was impressed.”



“Ah, Killenger,” Biff replied, nodding his head. “She’s a three-star prospect hailing from Gillingnet High only about two kilometers from Forrest Heights, where CorTech is located. This is one girl who CorTech can’t let get away since she’s so close to campus she could almost hear the deafening sounds of the Mean Green nation on game day from her house. Offers are from the University of Coruscant, National University, Republican University has some interest in her, as well as Tavolva, the University of NID, University of Denon, Citadel University of Anaxes, the Air Fleet Academy, among about five other schools. Normally I would say that CorTech would have no chance here, given their track record over the last few decades, but I am pleased to say that they have the leg up on this competition. Brampton sent Killenger a scholarship offer two years ago, way before she really broke out and started garnering attention. She probably blew that off because it was either too early or CorTech was a joke program, but here’s hoping that she decides to be loyal and stick with that offer. If so, she not only brings the team some much-needed eye candy, but also some major skills on both sides of the ball. She can play both ways, and probably will see some time on both sides in college with her skill set. I can see her filling in for Reena Wyley next season in the Back 6, but also adding some firepower in the Front 6 as well.”

“So now you’re looking at recruits for their attractiveness?” Peralto said.

“Hey, if the athletic department didn’t try to recruit attractive players, then most male students probably wouldn’t come out to the game,” Biff said. “I know that it would be more enticing for me to go if there were some hot chicks down there playing Limmie.”

“OK, then,” Peralto said, obviously trying to change the subject. “If we can get to the gundark in the room . . . what about that uber-prospect we keep hearing about?”

“Ah, you must mean Britranny Gryner,” Biff said. “Yes, a lot of you at home probably have heard a lot about Gryner. Hell, she was rated as the third-best prospect on Coruscant before the start of the season, but for two years running we had all been under the assumption that she was going to be a Hawk-bat because of the U of C’s influence and a desire to get the best players in the conference. However, given how they have tanked this season, Gryner has opened up her recruitment once again, and CorTech seized the opportunity, getting Gryner in for her official visit last weekend. She actually spoke about it in a press conference yesterday, so we’ll show you some of that.”



The camera went out to a table, where a tall high schooler sat, her dreadlocks giving her a very intimidating look. Or, more intimidating that her sheer size. Coming in at about 2.2 meters in height, Gryner was tall for a human, and she was not afraid to flaunt that size to her opponents or to the media.

“Britranny, you’ve opened up your recruitment again,” asked a reporter. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“The U of C is going through a rebuilding phase right now, and I don’t want to be part of their drama,” Gryner said succinctly. “So I decided to rescind my verbal pledge and go back to the drawing board.”

“Who else are you looking at right now for colleges?”

“Oh, probably the entire Super Sixteen conference. And then some, because I have at least five schools from Denon, another five from Alsakan, a few from other Coruscant schools, an offer from an SEC school, and that’s just the first few.”

“Britranny, word spread that you were at CorTech last week to take in their game against Duro State. Are you considering CorTech as a possible landing spot?”

“I am,” Gryner said, causing a flurry of activity. Such a highly-recruited prospect was considering CorTech? Surely this couldn’t be true! “I like their resolve in the face of adversity. Doing what they are right now, that takes guts, and I know that I would fit in nicely there with what Martin Locke is doing. Besides, they were extremely nice to me during my official visit, and I was blown away by the integrity of the school and what it offers. Not to mention that my mama said that a degree from there would be worth a lot when I’m done with school. I hope to go pro after a few seasons, but my mama’s always right. If I somehow don’t go pro after college, I want to have a stable future, and CorTech would offer me a degree with a considerable amount of pull. So, you better get your datapads ready, because I’m verbally committing to play for Martin Locke and the CorTech Mean Green.” This certainly set of a flurry of activity; this was going to be a shocker.

The camera came back to the two hosts. “There you have it,” Biff said. “Gryner has verbally committed to play at CorTech. Not a bad haul for Coach Locke if he can get all of these players to commit when the Letter of Intent period starts.”

“Is this the turning point that CorTech Limmie needs to get back to respectability?” Dan asked.

“I would say so,” Biff said. “Wow, I still can’t believe the possible recruiting class that Locke would be bringing in next year. But, for this year, CorTech needs to seal the deal. We have to get on to golf, so that wraps up our Limmie coverage for this week. Tune in next week, Limmie fans, for more in-depth recruiting coverage, plus a breakdown from the Techmo Bowl and a special guest from the team.”

TAG: No One

 

OOC: I'm totally not addicted to college football and the recruiting process. OK, maybe I am.

IC: Izzi Polakaya

“Where are we headed?” Izzi asked as she got into the speeder. Practice had wrapped up for the day and, Coach Martin Locke had said that quality control coach Lou Verrigo could use some help on the recruiting trail. The team needed to rest not just because of the game the next day, but also because midterms were lurking already, and Locke wanted to make sure his players would have ample chances to study. So, she was tagging along with Verrigo as he made the usual rounds of recruiting on a Friday afternoon.

“Gillingnet High,” Verrigo said as he revved up the engine of his speeder. It wasn’t the prettiest thing, but Lou certainly seemed attached to it.

“It’s a little cramped in here . . .” Izzi said.

“Sorry about that,” Lou said, shrugging. “This was my first speeder, and I’m kinda attached to it. Besides, I usually commute alone to and from work, so I rarely ever have someone riding shotgun, if ever. It’s a short ride between stops today, so I wouldn’t be too concerned about it right now.”

“Great,” Izzi said. This was the problem of being several inches taller than Verrigo; her head easily hit the roof of the speeder, while his still had some clearance before it made contact. Such was the life of a decently tall Limmie midfielder . . .

Verrigo pulled out of the CorTech lot and eventually made his way to the freeway. “So, who are we checking out today?” Izzi asked.

“Got the files right there,” Verrigo said, indicating a datapad on his windshield. Izzi picked it up and began to scan through the files. It looked like they had some things to look over. “We’re going to watch some high school Limmie action.” Izzi had to admit; it had been a while since she had attended a high school game. In fact, she wasn’t sure she had seen one since she had finished her high school playing career almost a decade before, and that was as a player, not a fan. It was going to be weird sitting in the stands, for starters, and then be scouting during a game? This was going to be weird.

“So, who’s playing?” Izzi finally asked.

“Gillingnet and Kowapa High,” Lou said, still staring straight at the freeway. “It should be a pretty good game. Those two are always solid teams, and they usually put up a good fight every year for playoff spots.”

Finally, Verrigo turned off the freeway and began to wind through a suburban neighborhood. After about three minutes, Verrigo pulled into a parking lot, stopping in the nearest spot he could find. “All right, let’s do this,” he said. Izzi got out and then looked at the small stadium standing in front of her. It wasn’t all that big; a typical high school stadium. Probably 4,000 people could fit in it comfortably, but she had gotten used to seeing palaces during her days in the Elite League, so this was a real shock to her system. This is where everything started for all players; high school was always the stepping stone for college and then pro careers, if not in Limmie then in the workforce somewhere. This was the place where kids who really weren’t that good at the game could say that they played Varsity Limmie back in High School, and the really good players got noticed for the skills and were recruited. It was a completely different world from the one Izzi had left behind, and it certainly was a surreal feeling.

Lou fell in behind the people standing in line at the ticket window, and Izzi joined him. “Haven’t stood in line for a ticket in a long time,” she remarked to Lou.

“I bet,” Lou said. “It must feel odd coming back here.”

“You can say that again,” Izzi remarked. When they got to the head of the line, Lou paid for the tickets, and then entered the stadium through the simple gate that usually blocked off entrance to the field. The gate had seen better days, but it still served its purpose well. When the two entered the stadium Izzi made sure to go straight to the concession stand . . . well, it was more a hut than a stand, but whatever . . . and bought a bag of small popcorn. Lou bought a large soda, and then the two of them found their seats. Lou took out some flimsy and a pencil.

“Have to take notes,” he said when Izzi gave him an odd look. “Don’t trust my typing skills enough. Also, we need to be covert during recruiting. Otherwise, this place could get rough, especially if there are any parents sitting around who just happen to have students here who are going through the college application process.”

“That rough?” Izzi asked.

“Oh yeah,” Lou said. “I once was mobbed by about twenty parents, most of them hoping that their third-string JV kid could get a scholarship to CorTech, and about that many wanted me to tell them all about CorTech as a school. They probably had kids who weren’t on the Limmie team, but would have been ‘mathletes’ or something like that. Anyways, I missed out on my chance to scout the kids I went to see because I couldn’t shake the parents long enough to really put together a good scouting report.”

“That sucks,” Izzi said in an off-hand manner.

“Boy does it ever,” Lou. “Scorned parents make my job a real nightmare. Thus, I try to stay incognito if possible so that I can do my job.”

“I think we have some competition,” Izzi said, pointing. Lou looked up, and then frowned.

“Man, she just doesn’t give up,” he muttered.

“Who’s that?”

“A scout for the U of C,” Lou replied sullenly. “Obviously here for the same reason we are. We need to lock up our players with commitments before that school can throw its weight around to barge in on our recruiting class.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Nothing I can do,” Lou said. “But it means that we’ll have to step up our efforts to get a good look at these players ourselves.”

After ten minutes, the stands were now almost full, the idle chatter of high schoolers drifting through the stands as they saw their friends and wanted to talk about school, among other things. It was Friday Night Limmie in high school, and the students wanted to use it as a social outing. They probably wouldn’t watch the game, but at least they could see their friends and shoot the breeze without their parents watching their every move.

Finally, the Kowapa team ran out onto the field to a chorus of boos from the crowd. Then, the announcer shifted tone. “And now, fans! Here are your Gillingnet Lancers!” The crowd went wild as their team broke through the giant banner that was being held by the cheerleaders and ran out onto the field. Lou pulled out a pair of macrobinoculars and began to look through them.

“We aren’t exactly that far from the action,” Izzi commented.

“I’m just trying to find all of the kids by number here,” Lou replied. “There she is, number 8.”

“Who’s that?” Izzi asked.

“That happens to be Ava Killenger,” Lou responded. “She’s a hotshot prospect for sure, and I’m thinking that she’s interested in our program. However, if that goody two-shoes over there can get to her first, then we’ll probably lose out. But, since I can’t do anything right now, we might as well settle in and see how she does. Also look out for numbers 16 and 45 for Gillingnet, and number 12 for Kowapa. I’m scouting them all tonight, so if you could assist me in getting some scouting reports done, that would be great.”

“All right,” Izzi said. She took a piece of flimsy and another pencil from Lou and then tried to focus on where the players whom Lou had mentioned were. Killenger was easy to spot, but the others took some time to find.

“They’re all starting, so keep an eye out for all of them,” Lou said as the referee came to the center of the field with the game ball. Kowapa cleared the ball from their defensive zone, and the game was on. It didn’t take long for Killenger to make her presence known; she slammed into a Kowapa player, forcing him to drop the ball. She picked it up and easily beat the Kowapa goalie for a three-pointer. In the next few minutes, she looked downright dominant.

“Number 8 is good,” Izzi said, impressed.

“Yeah, that’s why it’ll be so damn hard to get her to sign,” Lou said. “I wish Nagel had sent us to practice instead of a game for that very reason. We need to talk to her face-to-face if we’re going to get anywhere.”

By halftime, the Lancers were up 18-12. Killenger had scored ten points, and had caused quite a few miscues for Kowapa when she was on defense. She had even shifted to midfield when her coach had made some substitutions. She could really play.

“Not a bad half,” Iziz commented.

“Not at all,” Lou said, sipping at his drink as he scribbled a few more things on his paper. “Oh, I have to hit the little boys room, so could you watch my stuff for a few minutes?” he asked before getting up and leaving the seating area in a hurry. Right then, the game started up again, and Izzi was left all alone to try and take notes. Killenger took a pass from Number 45 and scored another goal. Then, as to say to Izzi that she was a good player, the senior racked up her third interception of the game and played some give-and-go with a teammate, finally blasting another shot past the helpless Kowapa goalie to push the lead to eight. Killenger was unstoppable! Izzi furiously wrote notes on what she noticed about the senior, but she was sure that what she noticed wasn’t going to be as good as what Lou usually wrote. Or, at least not cut from the same cloth style-wise.

By the time Lou returned from his pit stop, Killenger had racked up another goal and an assist, plus a forced fumble and interception. “Tell me I didn’t miss anything,” Lou asked as he sat down.

“You missed her scoring a hat trick . . . in five minutes . . .” Izzi said.

“Frak!” Lou said. “Of all the times I needed to relieve myself, I would miss that . . . You did write up some stuff?”

“Of course,” Izzi said, showing him the flimsy.

By the time the game was over, the Lancers had turned what had been a close game into a complete laugher. Killenger had scored an amazing seven goals, tossing on a pair of extra bar points plus half a dozen assists as the Lancers blew out Kowapa High 54-21. The fans cheered as the Lancers joined up at the middle of the field, letting their players know that the school was behind them. It was a thing of beauty for sure, but Lou was having none of it.

“All right,” he said. “We need to get down there quickly if we want to talk to her.”

“Looks like your friend beat you to it,” Izzi said, pointing. Lou gritted his teeth when he looked up.

“Well, there goes this chance,” he said. “I’ll end up coming back next week for practice, because that lady will chat Killenger’s ear off.”

“Why can’t we go down there anyways?” Izzi asked.

“Fine,” Lou said. “If anything, we’ll get a chance to talk to #45. He might be free to talk.” The two scouts made their way down to the field, where they then waited for the team to come by. When the players walked by, the U of C scout made sure to talk to Killenger, so Lou grabbed the attention of #45, leaving Izzi to fend for herself. She was watching what Killenger was doing with the scout. The senior shook the scout’s hand, then began to be barraged by some information. Then, Killenger shrugged her shoulders and said something back. The scout, looking dismayed, stalked away, not happy with what she had just been told. This was her chance, but Lou was still talking to the other prospect. Izzi approached Killenger, who looked up at her.

“Hi,” Izzi said.

“You a scout?” Killenger asked.

“Not really, but I’ve been pressed into duty as one for tonight, apparently,” Izzi said.

“Who you scouting for?” Killenger asked.

Right then, Lou came up. “Ah, I see that you drove that other scout away,” he said with a grin as he patted Izzi on the shoulder. “Hi,” he said to Killenger. “I’m Lou Veriggo, head scout for the Coruscant Polytechnic Institute.”

“CorTech!” Killenger said, her face brightening up a little. “Yeah, I was hoping you guys would show up tonight. I have a few questions I’d like to ask about the program.”

“I take it that you’re considering us as a possible landing spot?” Lou asked.

“Duh,” Killenger said. “You guys have been bombarding me with mail for the past two years. I kid, I kid. But I really appreciate the offer in the first place, and I’m certainly keeping CorTech on my final list. So, anyways, here are my questions . . .”

After about ten minutes, the Lancer coach came over to tell Lou and Izzi to leave, and they did so. Killenger seemed rather intent on knowing more about CorTech; perhaps this was a good sign after all.

“So, did we accomplish what we set out for?” Izzi asked as she and Lou returned to the speeder.

“I can only hope we did enough,” Lou said. “That’s how us scouts live. We hang on by a thread and hope that the work we do is enough to funnel good players to the program. And, for now, I’d say I did a good job.” The speeder left the parking lot and headed back to CorTech, both of its occupants hopeful that Killenger would retain her interest in CorTech and would eventually sign an NLI. Until then, they could only speculate.

TAG: No One

 

Jayla Leed
Locker room

After getting a head start in the standings of four wins and no losses. The game with National was going to be tough. The pressure was on U.C.B.V and Jayla was trying hard not to let it bother her. National was a good team and they had to keep focused to stay on top. They had a chance to make the playoffs. They can’t blow it now. After a team prayer they went out to play some Limmie.

At the end of regulation Jayla looked at the scoreboard with disappointment. They had lost to National
22-30 in a close match. Though it was the Renegades first loss, it still felt as if some one hit Jayla in the gut. They had so much expectations that the loss was a crushing blow to their ego’s.

Coach Lipwick came in told the players to keep their head up. It was only one loss and there was still more games to play.

“I believe in you” he said to the team.

“You played a tough game and the loss is hard to take, but don’t let it get you down. You played the way i expected you to play. With dignity and honor. That is more than i hope for.”

“Let’s learn from our mistakes and correct them for the next match. We are gonna need the extra practice and we will get them next time. Who is with me?”

There was a loud cheer in the locker room as the team started to get out of their sweaty clothes. The coach was right Jayla knew that they can’t feel defeated right now. There was so much more Limmie to play.


TAG: No one

 

IC Templeton Peck, Head coach (provisional), The Ord Sabaok University
The Arsenal, moments after beating Cinnagar Imperial College 22-7

Three and two! Peck grinned from ear to ear as he thought about the ramifications of today's win. For the first time all season the StarBucks now stood above the .500 mark. It meant that Peck could breath a little easier again about keeping his job and was a little closer to losing the kriffing provisional after his job description. Earlier that year, they had won "the Game" and now just one more win and the StarBucks could be assured of a winning season. Granted the students and fans of StarBucks Limmie usually demanded far more than that, but in this tumultuous season Peck thought they would at least settle for it.

Of course if things kept up they way they were going the StarBucks would make the Super16 post-season, and Peck knew from years past as an assistant coach that anything could happen there. He
addressed the team following the post game festivities, thanking them for their hard work the past week and trying to fire them up for next week against National. It would be Senior Day for the StarBucks, their last home game of the regular season. Sending them out with a win at home would not only assure them of a winning season, but also knock a 3-2 National team down a peg or two.From the locker room he went to adress the media. He had expected the questions to be more upbeat given the nature of the day's game, but he was wrong. Right off the bat Weedstreet laid into him.

"Coach Peck, did you see that KMI put up another huge win today?"

"I haven't had a chance to look at the scores fro..."

He was interupted by another reporter,

"It was 33-3 against a tough Trandoshan Tech Hunters team. KMI looks like Galactic Title contenders again..."

"I am only concerned with my team and what we do, The SEC just isn't on my sen..."

Now another jumped on the bandwagon.

"Their coach, still hasn't agreed to a contract extension there, rumors are that AD Archibald is trying to lure him here. What do you have to say about that?"

"Like I said, I am only worried about what we do here, anything else is out of my control."

"So you admit you are worried?"

"That's not what I meant... Listen are there any questions about the game today?"

There was a pause around the room as the holo-reporters all looked to one another for a moment. Finally a young Togruta spoke up, he wrote for the OSU student paper.

"Coach, I was just crunching some numbers here and the StarBucks are standing now with the best defense in the Super16. Care to comment?"

"Our defense is young, and they have learned quickly out there. The play of Tarpals in particular has been outstanding, and his improvement week to week has been impressive, most impressive."

"But offensively you are middle of the pack, as a former offensive coach shouldn't that be your strong suit? Coach Me'yer at KMI is hailed as an offensive genius, does that wo..."

Now Peck cut Weedstreet off.

"For right now this is MY team, my players, my record. We are at 3-2 depite what all of you experts predicted for us." He was getting angry now, his face getting as red as the StarBucks block O. "You want to talk about the future? I have nothing to say about it, I am doing the best I can for these kids in the here and now. If we play the way I know we can in the upcoming weeks then tommorow will take care of itself."

With that Peck stormed out of the press conference, all of his good feelings from the win only minutes before had evaporated. He knew now there would be no letup, he had to keep winning or else
his dream job would slip through his fingers. He went back to his office, it was going to be another late night.

TAG: No one.

 

IC: Vic McTodd
GVSU Fieldhouse, Nur, Vulpter System

Well that was it, the season was basically over. Vic would have to wait yet another year to enjoy not only victories over their rivals, RepU and OSU, but also for their shot at the Coronation Bowl. Now it was back to the drawing board, and that is exactly what he, Bry Dougant, and Abe Cynour were doing in Coach Ehennifer’s office after practice.

The three of them were the leaders on the field and Julla was looking to them to come up with a plan for next season. Lucky for them, they were only losing three seniors off of this year’s squad. So now all they had to do was figure out what they were going to improve. For Vic his focus needed to return to his pre-game prep work and get away from his off the field drama.

As Vic walked back across campus to his dorm he paused and contemplated the newest addition to the campus, the K’ntarr Center for Bio-Cybernetic Research. Just as he started on his way once more his datapad chimed, marking a new incoming message. He found it quite ironic that he was standing in front of the latest K’ntarr contribution to the galaxy while looking at a message from the Head Coach of their Elite League squad.

Now he had an even bigger decision to make. But now all he wanted to do was fall asleep in his room while watching holos of UC-Bella Vistal’s latest matches.

TAG: JEDI_TEEGIRLOO

 

Thought I better get these up before the Ohio State-Cal game

Week 6 results

Bonus rolls to GVSU, OSU, UC Bella Vista, CorTech, Chandrila A&M

Grand Vulpter System University at UC Bella Vistal (36-13)
Valorum University at Republican University (4-17)
Brentaal College of Commerce at Cinnagar Imperial College (12-30)
National University at Ord Saboak University (16-18)
University of Coruscant at University of Kuat (5-23)
Chandrila A&M University at Citadel University of Anaxes (26-16)
College of Fondordelphia at Coruscant Polytechnic Institute (17-8)
Coruscant Air Fleet Academy at Duro State University (6-28)

TAG: @CPL_Macja, @Trieste, @JEDIGUNSHIP, @Dubya_Scott, @JediMaster_1977, @JEDI_TEEGIRLOO, @Liam_Vehn, @spycoder9, @Padawan4687

 

IC: University of Kuat Destroyers
Location: Kuat

Another big win, and at home. Everyone seemed to pick up their game. Manon Rheaume was on fire in net, stopping almost everything. The defensive players were preventing a lot of the U of C rushes. But the stars of the game were the two Freshmen forwards, Mats Zuccarello Aasen and Girts Ankipans. Those two seemed to have a sixth sense. Their passing ability was incredible, and they've only gotten better as the season went on. Who knew that these two kids, who had never played together before, would connect so well. They made up a good portion of the Destroyers offense that game. The University of Coruscant didn't know what hit them.

It was a great night, a great game, and every player on the team was racking up points. Coach Conn Smythe was so pleased with their performance that he canceled the next practice. After all their hard work over the last six weeks, they deserved a break. They earned it.

TAG: No one in particular...

 

IC: Mac Barrette and Myke Ryce
Booth

“Hello, and welcome to another edition of Coruscant Tech College Limmie Gameday,” Mac Barrette said to the camera. “I’m Mac Barrette, and, as always, I’m joined by my partner, Myke Ryce.”

The older Ryce waved to the camera. “Hi,” he said.

“We’ve got a real good match coming up here today,” Mac said. “It’s your CorTech Mean Green taking on the Ions of the College of Fondordelphia for the coveted Golden Datapad. Now Myke, if the Mean Green win here today, they will have taken home all three trophies this season from rivalry games, something they has never been done before. What are the chances that it happens today?”

“Very good that they will bring home the trophy,” Ryce said. “The Ions aren’t a frightening team again this year, and with the way the Mean Green are putting up points, they probably will win this one in a shootout.”

“Ugh, this game is going to be a slugfest,” Barrette said. “It’s snowing like mad out there, which is something that almost never happens around these parts. I don’t think we’ve seen snow like this in Forrest Heights in at least 40 years.”

“I’m glad I’m up here in the booth, and not down on the field,” Ryce commented. “It’s warm up here. “

“We have notification that the Mean Green coaching staff has something special planned for the team entrance, and here come the Ions out of their tunnel. We’ll send you down to the field.”

IC: Izzi Polakaya
Field, Mean Green Stadium

Izzi stood with the other coaches, bundled up in several layers of clothes. Apparently the weather had decided to be fickle today, and send out a lot of snow. The field was barely visible underneath the white snow, covering the lines and generally making it tough to figure out what was in bounds and where the sideline was. All of the players, who had to wear their green CorTech home uniforms in plain view, had all added several layers on underneath as well. Gayla Renhorn had put on two layers of socks, plus two pairs of long underwear, two undershirts, and still had more on than that. It was amazing how one little weather feature could force players to drastically change their outfits. But a bitter snowstorm would do that to anyone, and Izzi was just glad that she hadn’t had to play on Euceron earlier in the season when they had had a ridiculous amount of snow fall in a short amount of time. Limmie was not meant to be played in the snow, at least not here on Coruscant.

There was an uproar coming from the back of the team line. Izzi looked back to see a hoverchair slowly coming forwards. It was Aric LyGrand, the freshman fullback who had been paralyzed in the shooting! He came forwards, finally stopping by the coaches. “Hey Coach,” he said to Martin Locke.

“Aric, you ready for this?” Locke asked.



“I’ve never been more ready,” the freshman said with a big grin. He had somehow wriggled into his old playing jersey, which had his name stitched into the back so that everyone knew it was his. When the signal came to go out, Aric led the team out onto the field, with Tank Bratter, Gayla, and Reena Wyley all holding on to a line that Aric was holding to make sure that the other three wouldn’t leave him behind. When the fans realized what was going on, they gave LyGrand thunderous applause. The school marching band played the fight song as always, and the fans stood on their feet, cheering on their Mean Green as they all emptied out of the team tunnel. It felt like a funeral procession in terms of speed, but the energy of the crowd was all positive. LyGrand, who had become an inspiration to many of them, had finally come home, and was with his teammates again on the field, wearing his uniform.

Aric finally made his way over to the sidelines, letting his teammates settle in around him. The crowd was still cheering, and now began to chant “Ar-ic Ly-Grand! Ar-ic Ly-Grand!”

“Feeling OK, kid?” Gayla asked.

“This is great,” Aric said, still smiling. “Thanks.”

The CorTech captains made their way out onto the field for the coin toss, and then when it was time to start the game, Aric was met by full back Brancko Nagriski. The Barabel didn’t say anything, but he nodded, and Aric returned the favor. He wished that he could be out there, but at least he was with his team. Izzi finally went over to her former player.

“How you feeling?” she asked.

“Better,” Aric replied. “The doctors say that I might be able to walk again after all, but it will take a lot of time and effort. All I know is that my playing days are over.”

“Well Aric, at least you’re still here with us today, and that’s all that matters,” Izzi said.

“Thanks,” Aric said, grinning. “Now give those Ion patsies a whooping for me, OK?”

---

The score was 8-7 Mean Green, with about eleven minutes to go in the first half. CorTech was driving down the field, setting up their play. So far, they had had little trouble with the Ions defense. Their star Tullo brothers so far hadn’t done much, and offensive coordinator Pryce Kniferunner was ready to bring the hammer down. Gayla ran forwards and dodged a good tackle attempt by an Ions midfielder. She could see Malida Worody streaking down the sidelines, her hand in the air. Gayla tossed her the ball, but slipped back slightly on the slick ground and fell on her back. The ball hung in the air, finally making its way down to Worody. The Togruta caught the ball and turned her head.

BAM! [media=youtube]oRWZ5l0nzXo[/media]

One of the two brothers from the Ions laid the lumber on the freshman with a hard hit to the head, causing the ball to squirt free of her grasp. Another Ion defender came over to scoop up the ball and started play the other way, but Worody wasn’t getting up. She had woozily fallen to the turf, and wasn’t moving. Gayla sat up on the turf, and watched as her teammate sat motionless on the field, while Tullo was prancing around like he had just made a spectacular play. Gayla was incensed now; she charged forwards and slugged the Ions player in the jaw, causing him to go down hard on the turf. Now the referees decided to stop play, and both teams watched as the two team captains went at each other, both throwing punches at each other with reckless abandon. Finally, the head linesman came in and separated the two combatants. Gayla then said something in anger at Tullo, and then the linesman gave the ejection sign. The crowd booed loudly, incensed by the fact that their fiery captain had been ejected from the game for sticking up for her teammate. All the while, the medical staff had come out to check on Worody, who was still down on the field. Undoubtedly the game coverage had gone to commercial break by this point, and all of those viewers had probably missed these proceedings.

Finally, with all the boos coming from the crowd, the linesman was approached by another referee, who was obviously mentioning what had happened on that play. The linesman turned to Tullo, and then gave him the ejection sign as well. Tullo didn’t take it very well, complaining about it voraciously and acting all innocent. The crowd, who had seen everything, began to cheer, and Tullo looked close to slugging the ref in anger. Finally, he had to be restrained and taken off the field by an Ion staffer, still pissed by the ejection. Meanwhile, Gayla had gone over to check on Malida. The ref came over to force her to leave, but Gayla made sure to hold Malida’s hand for a second. “Hang in there,” was all the captain could say before she was forced to leave with Lew Macklan, the Graduate Assistant coach for the Mean Green.

Finally, the cart came for Malida, and she was lifted gingerly onto it and taken away to the locker room. “Ugh, that’s what I hate about Limmie,” Locke commented when he watched his star forward go off the field on a cart, her neck braced to the board. The Togruta weakly raised her hand, and the crowd went wild, hoping that she would make a quick recovery. “I thought they’ve been trying to prevent those kinds of hits, but apparently some haven’t read the memo.”

The rest of the game was a complete disaster on offense. Without Worody and Renhorn, the Mean Green offense fell apart, and were shut out the rest of the way. Meanwhile, the defense couldn’t hold, giving up 10 points to the Ions. At the end, the score was 17-8 in favor of the College, and CorTech watched with blank stares as the other Tullo brother began to dance around, taunting the CorTech players “Hey, I think that pretty girl of yours certainly looks good when she’s motionless! Just like that stupid cripple you have over there on your sideline!” he yelled at the backs of the CorTech players. Finally, Branco Nagriski went over and popped the fool, which caused utter mayhem to break out between the two teams. When the fight was finally over, several CorTech players had minor injuries, and Tullo had been pile-driven by Nagriski. The Barabel had done quite a bit of damage, and even though he would probably be suspended for this, he hoped that it would shut Tullo up for good. The Ions player got up and made sure to stay away from the Barabel, and eventually had to take the Golden Datapad from the official. He raised it above his head, but the chorus of boos from the crowd completely drowned out the cheers from the Ion faithful. The CorTech fans were pissed, and they wanted to let the Ions know that they hadn’t won fairly, especially since the Jumbo screen just happened to catch Tullo mouthing off. There were enough lip-readers in the audience to know what he had said, and that had brought them out like crazy. The Green Horde student section began to yell obscenities at the Ions, and the band even joined in.

It finally took security to get the Ions off the field safely, as two fans had already been detained for jumping over the wall and attempting to beat the crap out of any Ions players they could get their hands on. Locke could only sigh at the display of anger from the crowd; this was not how he wanted CorTech to be remembered by. He finally got his team back into the locker room, where Gayla sat, completely alone with her head in her hands.

“You OK?” Izzi asked as she approached the team captain.

“Of course not,” Gayla said. “But I’m not regretting what I did. That pompous ass deserved what he got.”

“You may get suspended,” Izzi said.

“I don’t really care at this point,” Gayla said. “No one messes with my teammates and gets away with it.”

“How’s Malida doing?”

“She was taken to the hospital, and I haven’t heard anything since,” Gayla replied.

The post-game talk was about as silent as a funeral. One could hear a pin drop on the floor as Locke finally spoke. “We need to put this behind us and go into next week’s game against Citadel with good attitude. I don’t want us to be remembered as thugs; we need to go into our last game with dignity, and hold our heads high. Dismissed.”

The players began to change into their regular clothes, but none of them were really that interested in talking, so the locker room remained silent. It had been a complete and utter defeat, and none of them were interested in lightening the mood. For now, all they could do was lick their wounds and hope the next week would be better.

[B]TAG: Anyone, No One[/B]

 

Jayla Leed
UCBV

They had lost their second straight game in a row. After such a great start they were now on a losing streak. Jayla couldn’t understand what went wrong this week. They got blown out by GVSU. She really thought that they had a chance to win this game until they actually played. It was a sloppy game indeed. So many turnovers they couldn’t keep the ball if to save the life of them.

The team was taking it kinda hard cause they knew how bad they played.

“C’mon guys we have to keep our head up. We will get them next time but for now we need to concentrate on the next game.”

Jayla wasn’t one to give speeches but she could tell the mood of the team was slipping. They needed to nip it in the bud before it gets any worse.

Jayla and Griff Hakuna decided to work out in the gym together. Griff was the right corner back for the Renegades. A Twi’lek who would playfully tease Jayla on her stance on the field.

Jayla decided to work on her arms and legs as she climbed on to the workout bench. She breathed in and out as her arms pushed in and her legs lifted up. It wasn’t easy but Jayla got a good workout in at the end of the day. She hit the showers after she worked out.

She was in a much better mood now than before she started. The loss really must have hit her harder than she thought. Nothing like a good workout to clear your mind and refresh yourself. She thought to herself as now was a time for a team meeting.


TAG: No one

 

IC: Broody Rootiger
K’Lery Hall, Residence Hall, CorTech Campus

Broody sat flat on his back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. In a few days, the CorTech Mean Green would play their last regular season game of the year, and although it looked like they had a playoff spot wrapped up already, Broody was still depressed. There was a written rule in the Super 16 Conference that ineligible players who were not cleared 10 days in advance to play were not allowed to suit up in the playoffs. Thus, unless he could magically get his clearance to play today, he wouldn’t be able to compete in the playoffs if the Mean Green made it that far . . . and most likely if he didn’t get clearance today, he wouldn’t be eligible to play in the finale against Citadel University of Anaxes.

Every week, Broody went to the records office in the Student Union, asking for any mail he might have received over the week. However, every time he was given something, it told him that his grades still weren’t good enough. This year, Gayla Renhorn and Reena Wyley, two of his fellow seniors, had even been tutoring him after practice and helping him with his homework, but nothing seemed to change. It was that one class he hated that kept bringing him down. He didn’t care about physics; they never made sense to him anyways. He had always been interested in the communications and how to deal with people like himself who were going through rough spells with their mental disorders and school. Things certainly were difficult in college when you had a learning disability, and Broody had always been told that he would never get here. Well, he was close to graduating, but not to getting on the Limmie field. It made his depressed.

Many thoughts swirled in his head as he sat there, blankly staring off into space. His high school coach who had liked his energy but told him that he would be better off working in industry after leaving high school. His friends who went off to their awesome colleges, and eventually found new friends to hang out with during breaks from school. His JC coach who never let him dress for a game, mostly because Broody was still academically ineligible, but also because the man saw his pupil as more of a tackling dummy than a Limmie player. And then four years here at CorTech, where he hadn’t been able to dress for one game because of his grades. It just wasn’t fair, and Broody wondered to himself why he hadn’t just quit. But then, his intervention with Gayla at the first team meeting of the season kept him going. She had told him that he was full of crap, so to speak, because he wanted to prove himself. But, she said, what was there to prove? He had already shown everyone that he could make it this far. Hell, his parents never thought he would go to college, but he went to JC, graduated with an associate’s degree, and then came to CorTech and was most likely going to graduate within a year or two. But without Limmie, what had he really accomplished?

A knock came at the door. “Come in,” Broody said, disinterested.

Gayla Renhorn came into the room, wearing her CorTech t-shirt, Limmie shorts and black shoes. “Hey,” she said. Broody knew that she was a lot less frightening-looking off the field, when she didn’t wear the eye black and have her game face on. Actually, she was a rather nice person when you got to know her, fiercely loyal but also gentle when it came to working one-on-one with Broody on his homework. When she saw Broody sitting on his bed, she frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” Broody said. “It’s just . . . our last game is in a few days, and Coach still hasn’t told me if my grade appeal is enough to make me eligible. You know more than anyone the rules of the Conference on ineligible athletes . . .”

“I sure do,” Gayla said. “Look, Broody, you can’t take this as a complete loss. We’ve loved having you in practice for four years, and I can honestly say that you’re an awesome guy and have the best motor on the team. I’m jealous, really, because you never give up. When I was a freshman, I didn’t always see plays through to the end, but you, you played through to the whistle, no matter how far you got pushed back or got taken down. That’s more guts than I’ll ever have.”

“Thanks,” Broody said. “But it won’t mean a thing unless I can dress . . .”



“Well, if you’re so depressed, then I might as well just leave, and take this package with me,” Gayla said, shrugging. Broody sat up; what package? Sure enough, Gayla was holding a bag, obviously wrapped up in a hurry in brown flimsy and with a piece of string to keep it all together.

“Is that for me?” Broody asked. He looked back up at Gayla, who nodded.

“Take it as a token of our appreciation for what you’ve done for us over the years,” Gayla said, setting the package down next to Broody on the bed. She then sat down in his desk chair. Broody looked down at the package, then back at her. “Come on, open it,” she prodded.

Broody reached down and picked up an envelope that was on top of the parcel. He opened it to display a piece of flimsy, which he opened immediately and began to read out loud.

Dear Mr. Rootiger,

Your eligibility appeal has been processed by the Board for Higher Education here at the Coruscant Polytechnic Institute, and a decision has been made as to your eligibility status.

You have reached all academic standards for the university and the Limmie program in this term. Henceforth, you are now eligible to participate in all remaining Limmie contests this season as long as you keep your grades up. This means that you are allowed to dress for this weekend’s game.

Congratulations, and we enjoy seeing the progress you have made. And, make us proud out there this week.

Yours truly,

Hamm Johnson, Dean of Student Affairs

Down below the letter, Broody could see a scribble saying “You did it!”, then with the signatures of all three of his fellow CorTech seniors plus the juniors who had remembered Broody for three seasons.

Broody looked up at Gayla, wonder in his eyes. “Am I dreaming?” he asked.

“Nope,” Gayla said. “That’s a genuine appeal form right there. I hope you don’t mind that we read it first and scribbled a message down at the bottom.”

“So that means . . . I can dress . . .” Broody said. His body started to get out of the reclined position, and Gayla knew that if he had wings, he probably would start hovering up off the bed completely in his excitement.

“You still have a package to open,” Gayla said, pointing to the parcel. Broody tore it open, and then his jaw dropped as he pulled out its contents. Inside was a sea green CorTech Limmie uniform, and when he flipped it over, it had “Rootiger” stitched into the back. Also in the package was a pair of sea green Limmie shorts, and the team-issued black cleats. A small note inside the package said “You did it, Broody. From the entire team.” Broody began to stare at his jersey; he finally had his Limmie uniform, and it even had his name on it! All those days he had sat in his family’s living room watching CorTech Limmie, hoping against hope that maybe someday he would be able to not only attend the school, but also get to wear the sea green and black some day and represent his family and school on the pitch. All those days he had worked out in high school to make the team, all of the doubters who had told him to give up, the academic ineligibility that had for so long frustrated him, the thoughts of quitting, the depression. But now he had his prize, and he just couldn’t believe it.

Finally, Broody began to cry, the tears coming down from his eyes like crazy. Then, he came over and received a huge hug from Gayla. “We did it . . .” Broody said as he sobbed away. But they weren’t tears of sadness; no, they were of joy, of having his lifelong dream come true.

“No,” Gayla said. “You did it. You wanted your uniform and the chance to be able to represent out there on the field. Well, there it is. So now go out there and take it.”

“Thank you . . .” was all Broody could say, choking up with emotion. Finally, he got out of the hug, and then he bolted out of the door, uniform still in hand. Gayla knew that Broody was going to have his fame here, and there was no need to stop him. It was his time to shine.

Broody tore down the hallway, brandishing his uniform in the air like a trophy. “I’m eligible! I’m eligible!” he shouted as he raced down the hall towards the stairs. Every so often, a door would open, and a head would poke out. As Gayla passed, she could hear the others speaking to their roommates and to themselves.

“Elis! Broody’s eligible!” came the voice of a senior classmate of Gayla’s after he saw the streak that was Broody go by.

“Broody!” came another voice down at the end of the hall. “Way to go, man!”

When Broody hit the bottom of the stairs, he ran out into the courtyard. Hundreds of students were milling around, enjoying the sunshine that had finally banished the freak snowstorm that had plagued the campus days before. Still holding the uniform aloft, Broody ran around campus, yelling to anyone and everyone that he was finally eligible. Cheers rang out from the crowd as they realized that Broody, the scrappy kid they heard about who had gone through so much to get here, was finally going to play for the Mean Green. He had done it, and now he was going to get to reap the benefits of such success.

---

The energy in Mean Green Stadium was absolutely electric. The fans were going nuts, ready to see their Mean Green tear apart the Defenders from Citadel. It was Senior Day, but as usual at CorTech, the seniors would be recognized on the field separately from the grand entrance by the team, so everyone was still behind their captain as they waited to go out onto the field. The players were ready, and they bounced up and down to try and contain their excitement to try to put last week’s debacle behind them. Maxx Grap, the freshman Devaronian who had been injured in the shooting, was back in uniform, helping patch up a banged-up defense that had seen Brancko Nagriski be suspended by the school for the game due to his punches thrown after the Techmo Bowl game, and the rest had some minor bumps and bruises all around. Gayla looked back and raised her arm. “Broody!” she called out.

Finally, Broody emerged in the sea of bodies, wearing his uniform proudly. Gayla grabbed his jersey and moved in a little closer to his face. “You ready, champ?” she asked.

“I’ve been ready for this my whole life,” Broody replied, still wide-eyed as he stared into Gayla’s eyes dead-on.

“Can you take us out on the field?” Gayla asked seriously.

“Hey, you guys are on!” came the voice of the staff member at the head of the tunnel.

“Let’s do this!” Gayla yelled at her team. “Let’s tear these posers apart!” The team yelled back in anticipation. Finally, the cheerleaders and flag-bearers who had been at the head of the tunnel decked out in their green outfits, burst forward along with the Spirit Leader, a senior student chosen every year by the student body to act as the official mascot for the team. Then came the Mean Green team, running out of the tunnel with Broody at the head, raising his arms into the air. The band began to play the fight song, and the crowd cheered wildly like there was no tomorrow. This was CorTech Limmie at its finest, and Broody no longer had to sit it out because of his grades. He now had his uniform, and was going to be out there representing everyone who had ever dreamed before. It was his time to shine.

[B]TAG: No One[/B]


Famous scene from here:

[media=youtube]QdWKS1vt4bU[/media]

Watch from 2:34 to 3:04

 

IC: Max Qorbus
Anaxes

The Nautolan's work for the day was done. He stood on the sideline, one goal and four over the bar points to his name, as the second half of an all around team effort played itself out. Max and the key starters had been allowed to start the second half, but once the score had gone to 22-12 against the Defenders with their record of 2-3 the Old Dog had made his customary pulls, which included Max and the Hapans. Currently, one of them--Morlan to be precise--was casually leaning against him, one arm draped over his shoulders as they watched the action.

"Frak I'm gonna miss you," Morlan sighed.

"We've got one game before playoffs even happen," Max said. Now that the team was on the verge of going 5-1, playoffs were not a taboo subject. They were a fact of life, "And I'll still have a full semester before I graduate."

"Yeah, but whose tendrils am I gonna pull when you're gone?" Morlan asked wistfully. She did just that to make her point.

"I'm sure the Old Dog will find a Twi'lek rook for you to push around," Max hypothesized.

"It won't be the same. They get all antsy because there's brains or nerves or something in there," Morlan pouted.

"It sounds like you've done some research."

"Naw. One told me something like that a while back when he chewed me out for tugging," Morlan stated simply, "Can't you get a fifth year petition? Didn't you redshirt?"

"Nope."

"Injury wipe out most of a season?"

"Healthy as a dewback."

"Same complexion too," Morlan said. She sighed. "You're gonna sign with somebody big. I know it. Your points have been phenomenal this season. You know with their homeworld advantage the Patriots probably have a file a lightyear thick on you. Probably getting shopped by the Rebels and Demons too. I bet the Elite League's scouted you too. The Miners have scouts everywhere and they're taking non-Humans now you know."

"Do you know how few players get signed by Elite League teams? There are quadrillions of beings in the galaxy and there are eight Elite League teams with rosters of 30 players in a best case scenario, but usually less. Let's call it 200 Elite League players. Divide 200 by a couple quadrillion," Max said.

"You know I'm an anthro major. I don't take math classes," Becki pouted.

"It's a really small percentage," Max said.

"You know what else is a small percentage? The number of beings in this galaxy who can light up a Super 16 goalie for 7 points in under 40 minutes of play," Becki said, "I'm gonna miss you."

"This coming from half the shutdown duo of the Super 16. You and Allesh are going to the show yourself one day," Max said, "Trust me."

The Hapan lowered her voice. "And what are the chances we can sign with the same team? A good team too. I'm scared. I'd suck without Morgan. I need her but not a lot of teams can use two half forwards at the same time."

"Hey, the Sedins got a double deal with the Patriots in the 240s. The Miners signed Glencross and North to replace an aging midfield corps. It happens. You tell Morgan all this?" Max said.

Becki snorted. "Yeah, like I'd give her that satisfaction."

"Well, we're still Rovers today and it's a good day to be a Rover," Max said, putting an arm around the Hapan.

"Yes it is," Becki sighed, "Yes it is."

Tag: Nobody

 

IC Templeton Peck, Head coach (provisional), The Ord Sabaok University
The Arsenal, 1:30 left StarBucks 18, National 16.

Peck nervously ran up the sideline trying to follow the action on the field. Down by two late in the game, National was furiously trying to move the ball up field to score the go ahead points. It was hard for him to keep up, and it was proving difficlt for the StarBucks defenders as well. The ball came out of the midfield as the Eagles drove into StarBucks territory. Peck had a bad feeling about this.

It never should have been this close to begin with. The StarBucks had come in favored in this matchup, a sign of respect more for the StarBucks name than the coaching Peck was sure. It should have been an easy win and a gratifying senior day for those whose last regular season home game this would be. But the game had been a dogfight from the beginning, and it had to have been galling to the NU coaching staff that they weren't actually winning this game.

On three seperate occasions they had driven down the field and caught Tarpals, the StarBucks Gungan goaltender, out of position. They should have been easy back of the net goals, but each time the NU offense had pushed the ball wide to to left of the empty net. It had cost them nine points, and a potential lead. Now Peck could only hope his team could hold on. He looked at the clock as it slowly ticked off the seconds, the ball getting further and further into StarBucks territory. 1:13, 1:12, 1:11, The ball soared towards the seemingly open NU Full Forward. Peck cringed, 1:10, 1:09, but the Eagles forward wasn't as open as Peck had thought. Showing great range Doss came in and intercepted the ball. She started running, not trying to make any progress upfield, but just trying to put as much distance between herself and the Eagles players trying to strip the ball from her grasp. The Arsenal roared, screaming and shouting as the seconds continued to tick off the clock, eventually reaching zero signifying another StarBucks victory.

Peck jumped for joy as the final horn sounded. This win meant a winning season for the StarBucks, and there was still hope for a post-season berth. He looked around at the sun drenched stadium. There were alot of fans and students going home with sunburns after today's game, but for now they were all going home grinning ear to ear.

TAG: no one.

 

OOC: As promised a week ago.

IC: Quinn Cundertol
The Ord Saboak University

Show a holo of Ryi Kor'le on the most backwater planet in the galaxy with a barely working Holonet connection and Quinn had 50 credits that said half the people you asked could correctly identify her. Heck, on a moderately sized planet you could show a lesser known player and still come out with the same percentage. Yet Quinn Cundertol, General Manager of one the most prominent Limmie teams in the galaxy, walked the campus of The Ord Saboak University and no one gave him a second look. Well, that is except for the group of students in the grassy quad who were giving out free hugs. Cundertol had looked at them askance and plowed onward. He expected such a thing from the hippie-dippies over at UC Bella Vistal, but Ord Saboak was another matter entirely.

Cundertol's predecessor, Dana Roslyn, had been a notorious in-person recruiter. Personal appeals had wedged Dorf Landa out of Imperial space and with Aileen Wynn's help they'd stolen Inviere out from under the noses of the C-Bucs. Incidentally, Cundertol was amused by the fact that the Senators didn't like Wynn's...intense style of coaching. This was the woman who'd run the entire Miners team into the ground after a practice through laps until it had been just her and Landa locked in a stalemate, both of them too stubborn to quit. No wonder she was still winning on a sinking ship.

And these days the Miners were pretty much a sinking ship. 1-4, disgraceful. Granted there had been culture shock that was not making the transition to his management easy, but the deep flaws that Quinn had diagnosed in the Miners, flaws that had kept them from going to a Galactic Cup Final in the Kayl'hen Era of the game, required drastic change. He'd done that by brigning the team out of the dark age and signing non-Humans. What a patently ridiculous, preposterous practice they'd perpetuated. And Hapans didn't count as non-Humans to Quinn. No, of course they didn't. Just look at them. Of course, The Woman had been a Hapan. What else would she have been?

In any event, Roslyn had had it easy. She'd popped out to targeted planets based on the reports of her myriad of scouts and spent most of her time schmoozing the Back10 coaches. Anyone could do that, in Quinn's opinions. But the game was changing. Narrow recruiting like that wasn't good for teams. It produced narrow skill sets, narrow mindsets. And the Miners were already too narrow. They needed to be opened up. That would happen this offseason. It would dovetail nicely with the change in the wind. Cundertol could read the signs.

This trip was part of preparing for the new order of things. It was why his footsteps crossed campus headed towards The Arsenal, the gigantic Limmie stadium that dominated OSU's landscape and life. Though the library was taller, there was no question that this was the center of campus life. Beings of every stripe, though mainly scarlet and gray stripes, were already beginning to funnel towards the stadium. It was a different feel from the urban setting of Bakura Gardens. Most fans eschewed the high priced parking for speeders and took the monorail to get to Miner games (and, by extension, UBSD Golden Bear games since the university saw no need to follow in the footsteps of crosstown rivals Tiarest and build and maintain their own Limmie stadium when there was a perfectly good one they could lease). Besides, in true Bakuran fashion if you took the monorail you could drink all the more at the game...and before...and after. That was one aspect of Bakuran life that Cundertol had yet to reconnect with. Here, however, speeders were arrayed in every possible parking surface that could be found, the vast majority of spaces actually taken up by tents, tables, chairs, Holonet projectors remotely connected to show other games, and--most importantly--various cooking implements. There was a different sense of community here than cramming into the pubs and bars near the Gardens. But then again Ord Saboak was just much different from Bakura in general. It certainly seemed like it didn't rain as much here given the current sunshine. Cundertol was glad that he'd left his double breasted peacoat behind.

Cundertol was a covertly observant being. He saw and pieced things together with remarkable rapidity and he kept a mental files on a great number of things that could be pertinent to his work. That included faces of competitors and he noted two from the Premier League being admitted to the press entrance that would take them to the skybox. Cundertol could easily have gotten such access by activating his comm--likely within a minute if he'd tried--but his plans lay elsewhere. Today it would not suit his purposes. Instead, he was headed elsewhere.

Calling The Arsenal a "cathedral of Limmie" was actually not inaccurate. Quinn stood below the rotunda, actually a half rotunda carved into the facade of the building, though appropriately it had been decorated with stained transparisteel panels. It was certainly unique and it hearkened to another era. Sure, the facade showed the age of the structure a bit, but this was part of what made college Limmie. Though, admittedly, it did bring to mind Six Boroughs and its touch-and-go maintenance. Character, Quinn was pretty sure they called it.

"You know, not many beings would have been confident enough to give their description as 'the Human not wearing scarlet and gray' and be confident of being recognized," a Devaronian said stepping up to Cundertol's side as he admired the rotunda.

"But I was right," Quinn stated.

"You were," the Devaronian said, handing a ticket over to Cundertol.

"Many thanks," Cundertol said, accepting the ticket. In the process he transferred a credit chip to the Devaronian's palm by way of his own. It was a smooth transition.

"Enjoy the game."

"I intend to," Cundertol said. And with that, he walked to the rotunda to find his seat.

---

The pregame pageantry was everything one would expect from the StarBucks, but Cundertol was focused on the play. He had some StarBuck players on his radar and he was here to see how they performed in person. Tape didn't tell the whole story. There was a feel one had to get in person. The tight game was forcing the StarBucks to have to play harder than one would have expected against National. It was a good setting in which to evaluate their true talents.

Unlike other scouts, Quinn kept no notes. Everything was stored in his mind, filed away neatly, organized, collated, ready for use later. It was a neat system, one he relied on. He was confident enough in his memory not to fall back on physical notes. It also made him irreplacable. Not a bad thing, that.

As always, there were surprises when it came to the theoretical becoming the actual. And one of those surprises was the head coach, Peck. Given the adversity Peck had been faced with, it was no small accomplishment to be doing so well. He was an intense coach to say the least, not one of the stoic, sit-back sorts. Peck would be a good person to have a better file on. Especially with things that might happen in the near future...

When the game finished, Cundertol picked his way through the stands without waiting for the singing of the alma mater. He'd allow the StarBucks fans to enjoy that on their own. He needed to hail a cab. There was work to be done back on Bakura.

Tag: Bardan_Jusik