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This did not appear i The Wolves of Brandon. It is from... um... Harold North and the Winning Team. Yes. That sounds like a good title...

(I think this might count as writing fanfic of my own work because really, it's highly implausible... Oh, and the sport is unspecified because it's more about the team configuration than anything else but it's like soccer.)



Harold, Perch and Winnie hung over the rail separating the sets of bleachers from the playing field and waved until Mr. North and Mr. Lowell noticed them and waved back. "Best of luck!" called Winnie.

"Win!" suggested Perch.


"Do your best," said Harold.


"Cheer loudly," suggested Mr. Brandon. He surveyed the bleachers with satisfaction. Students and teachers had come out in record numbers to see the unusual match.


"It's pretty nice to have seats up in the announcers booth," said Perch. "Golly, who'd've thought there'd be something worth watching this year?" The friends clambered up the stairs and slipped inside the booth where the two student broadcasters were fiddling with the dials on the wireless equipment.


The Royalston announcer, a senior girl with the same arrogant attitude that marked most of the visitors from that school, frowned at the trio. The on-air light went on and she put on a bright smile for the mike. "Good morning everyone! We're broadcasting from the beautiful field here at Underwood Academy, where their team takes on the undefeated section champions, the Royalston Tigers.


"Now, for those of you who are reaching for your dials to find another game, don't go away! The Tigers are going to put on a spectacular performance, and Underwood has pulled a truly desperate play. I don't deny that this will be a painful game, but you don't want to miss this one, folks. Underwood has turned to their teaching staff for players but is only fielding the minimum team of three!"


"It's true," admitted Ronny Applewhite, the Underwood announcer. His voice grew sharper. "Our Masters of Applied Sciences, Herbology and History take the field today for the honor of Underwood. We're not reading off an old game in an attempt to revive past glories—we've got Captain Brandon, Lowell, and North at the goal."


"Past masters of the game or not, they don't stand a chance," said Olivia Winter.


"We'll see," said Ronny.


The light switched to "off-air" and the pre-game broadcast continued from the main studio.


Olivia shook her head. "You're delusional. Granted, Lowell and North are big fellows, and could maybe do something in the game, but this Brandon is just a shrimp. All brains."


"Oh, he's got brains all right," said Ronny. "But are you sure you want to be talking about the Grand Duke's son like that?"


Olivia's eyes went wide. "But... but..." she sputtered. "Why?"


"He's sick of loosing," said Perch.


"But that's awful! How humiliating! Our team is going to crush them! I don't see how he can even walk out there under the circumstances!"


"Thing is," said Ronny, "Even if they loose 5-0, that'll be respectable, which is more than the regular team could say. So it's better than it could be."


"They're not going to loose," said a new voice. The students looked to the door, where a gentleman in the dress uniform of the Southern regiments stood. He had the fierce mustache and wild mane of hair associated with the most flamboyant of Southern officers. "I tell you what will happen. First quarter, Underwood will be up by 3 and making a run for another goal. North collapses, they cart him off the field, not breathing but still insisting he's fine, let him play. With only two players left, the game won't continue and it'll be marked as incomplete. Shame, since Brandon and Lowell would do a fine job on their own if they've a fraction of the skills they showed when we were kids."


"Uncle Alastair isn't going to collapse!" exclaimed Harold.


The officer nodded. "He tried playing several times down in Rupaar before we figured out that he couldn't be on the field for more than five minutes of action before his asthma kicks in. Crazy bugger tries to play through it, and almost kills himself every time. Had to kick him from the team. One of the hardest things I've ever done. Came up here to keep an eye on him. Won't get in your way. I'll be out in a flash, soon as he starts breathing hard. Don't worry kid, your uncle will be fine."


Olivia tried to muster a sneer in her voice as they switched back to broadcasting and she read off the Royalston line-up. "So, I hear Underwood was so desperate they pulled out an asthmatic to play for them."


"I'm sure the novelty of having an asthmatic play harder than your star players will stay with us all for some time," countered Ronny. "We have only three players today folks: Captain Brandon is playing forward, Lowell is playing middle, and North is defense. I don't have any stats for them for this year, though their students are attaining respectable grades and learning lots. Our Masters take the field today to show us how it's done. In their student days, Brandon and Lowell were on two championship pennant Underwood teams—yes, you heard championship and Underwood correctly!—"


The officer leaned closer to Harold, Perch, and Winnie. "Is it that bad that your announcers have to apologize for sounding positive?"


"You have no idea," said Perch. "You don't think we're going to get a whole game?"


"'Fraid not, lad."



Date: 2012-12-31 04:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] meltintall3.livejournal.com
Which parts were confusing? (I am scribbling out the last third, by the way, and then y'all may read the whole thing in all its...absurdity, I suppose. ;)) )

Given that I have styled Underwood as a prestigious academy, I find short-staffing unlikely. ;))
I will add in a mention of Alastair when they're going through the wedding photos and a mostly unnoticed newspaper article when they have breakfast with the Lowells. How's that? :)
We'll go with older and responsible. *nods*

Still, it seems like if you're playing for an entire year you'd figure it out after a month or so. ;))

Date: 2013-01-01 07:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] valiantarcher.livejournal.com
I think she just had a little trouble with not knowing any of the characters or what the setting was. :) I'll let you know if she narrows it down anymore. ;)) (Oooh...does that mean I'll have more to read at some point? If so, that means I need to send you comments first before I get anything else to distract me. :P)

True! ;)) Unless they just are THAT selective and Brandon is THAT qualified... ;)
Yay, thank you! :)
;)) Alright, good.

Maybe these students weren't the brightest? And the brighter ones died of embarrassment and gave up the game? ;))

Date: 2013-01-01 10:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] meltintall3.livejournal.com
Understandable. I can see how a whole bunch of random names all at once would be confusing. :) (Yup. This is about a third of the whole, so don't expect too much. ;)) )

I'd say he is THAT qualified, but... ;))

Slightly more plausible than my theory that the coach is taking money to rig the game, I suppose. ;))

Date: 2013-01-01 11:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] valiantarcher.livejournal.com
:) Yeah, I think that was about it, her sorting out who the Masters were and that it was at a school and all that. ( :D I shall endeavour to keep my expectations down. But I'm rather happy to be getting even a little more.)

;)) Qualified, but perhaps not that eager to do it.

Ooh, that's a good theory too, though. ;)) I'm not sure how he'd do that and get none of the kids to figure out that something was fishy, though. Unless maybe he told them to always go for the wrong goal and the kids just haven't figured out THAT'S how they're getting the negative points? ;))

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