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Brawling

Frogmorton woke me up just before my alarm this morning by leaping around the bathroom (possibly hunting an insect) and so I showered, breakfasted and then packed the car, heading over to pick up a friend before driving up to Everett for the tournament.

We had a few late drop outs: the first coach to register suffered a pollen-related allergy attack, didn’t sleep all night and then canceled shortly before dropping into a Benadryl-fuelled stupor. Our second coach had a dental mishap where a tooth exploded, and just when I thought that meant I was playing to make up the numbers, a third coach had their car break down on the highway and had to spend all day dealing with a tow truck. What rotten luck.

Still, I got to have a relaxing day answering questions about rules and not actually playing, although I did get one rule wrong: if a Ball & Chain moves into a square where the ball is, they can’t pick it up but it’s not a turnover. Otherwise, I did alright. With 16 coaches that was a lot of complication to manage, but I think everyone had their fair share of crazy moments, highs and lows.

When it came to the final round, one guy had had enough and asked me to substitute in for him, and I had the dual advantages of being mentally fresh, and not wrestling with the usual terrible joke team builds I inflict on myself. Plus, hot dice meant I was efficiently brutal against a coach who usually tears my teams to pieces: I took most of his players off the pitch, won 2-1 and was in the potentially odd situation of taking the team I’d adopted to the top of the table. A glorious day.

Prizegiving went well, though we didn’t have a Best Defence prize; I should include that for next time. Drove home, curiously exhausted…

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