15 September 2010

Blood Bowl Game Diary #1

Match 1 VS The Bramble Blockers

As my team lined up on the pitch a sudden tremor hit me…. I barely knew how to play the game. I mean, I really barely knew how to play the game. I’d done the tutorials but they often felt like they covered up information or didn’t make the mechanics clear enough to me during die rolls. However, strong-willed as I am I set my face in stone and watched the match begin in grim determination.

They kicked to us and as the ball landed the centre of our field pushed theirs back while the runner, Mortbean, picked up the ball and ran straight across the field to an opening our team were leveraging wide on the right side of the pitch. Having run out of steam, Mortbean attempted to pass the ball off to another player and promptly dropped the ball on the floor. I realised now, that throwers are named so for a reason!

Taking advantage of the situation, several wood elves streamed through the defensive lines and picked up the ball. My players tried to organise a defence but it came to nothing as, time and again, they were knocked to the floor trying to get to the ball holder, a wardancer named Balldeorn (I think the translation of this is ball hog). My team appeared to rally briefly as they knocked down several Bramblers until my idiotic witch elf, Camfindys, pushed Balldeorn ‘back’… by which I mean forward toward our touchline. She tried to salvage the situation but the wardancer just, well, danced around the witch elf and scored.


After the kick, Camfindys, who obviously felt some portion of guilt (a weak emotion if ever there was one!) charged into the fray. This would have been a noble endeavour if not for her managing to get herself injured and stretchered off the pitch. Somehow though, despite the sight of one of our stronger players being removed from play, the rest of the team pulled up their panties and made a run up the pitch, with Mortbean, holding the ball, steaming ahead of the pack…. Only to run out of steam and fall over, spilling the ball. This unfortunate event allowed a wood elf to pick up the ball and pass it off to their thrower and, as my defence organised themselves, the thrower threw the ball through a humongous gap in my central defence to their receiver who scored an immediate touchdown.


I slapped my hand on my forehead – something that one of my coaches later suggested that we patent, though I dismissed him saying that it was unlikely to catch on – and cursed the benevolent gods of the flammable wood tribes, Deh and Ooh. This was going to be a long match.

My team were quickly losing cohesion. After the kick off, Argthar and a couple of others hit their central formation hard in a fit of anger. They knocked one guy down and, right in front of the ref, proceeded to kick the everliving sh*t out of him.

Red card.

Stupid m*therf*ck*ng Argthar!! What the hell was he thinking? Worse still, the player on the floor didn’t even appear to be hurt and the wood elves pushed through our lines to attack Mortbean who had idly picked up the ball during the fracas. I and the rest of our measly supporters (who, granted were mostly here to watch the cheerleader) shouted at him to move as Ball Talu (translation: Ball Breaker), a wood elf lineman, hurtled towards him. Semi-luckily, Morty tossed the ball forward in panic before being flattened and it landed next to one of my players who watched it as one of the wood elves nimbly sprinted by and plucked it off the ground. Damnit!

I looked at the clock and realised that they might not even have enough time to effect a touchdown before half time and I frantically waved my arms around in what I thought was a motion that would induce our team to do something. Luckily, they did and a couple of running wood elves were tripped as they tried to get past our defence. Half time came none-too soon!

After a break, during which I swore and swore until I had no words left, Mortbean kicked the ball into their half and I watched as they formed an Aladrian circle (which is actually more of a square) around their thrower who had picked up the ball. Their catcher and a lineman ran forward and thankfully my team moved to surround them as the thrower cast the ball into the air. We all watched as it sailed towards the catcher only to be intercepted by our brave Rynnear who hit the ground running with everyone who was in our half directly behind him. I should have known not to get too excited about this turn of events as, just past the half-way line, he was knocked down by the angry catcher who then tossed the ball back into my half – though no one was there to receive it.
“Another bit of good luck”, I said to myself as I rubbed my hands. Only, it wasn’t… since Lamael moved from next to the big Ent, er, I mean Treeman towards the ball without first looking for low-hanging branches and was promptly stretchered off the pitch with a nice big red lump on his forehead. Stupid boy!

Balldeorn streamed forward and collected the ball, followed closely by several wood elves playing a defensive formation. There literally was nothing my players could do, though Riisilneth the witch elf who tried to block the soon-to-be scorer from making the touchline.


What a mess! There wasn’t much time left on the clock now so I called to my team to run an all out attack to try and score at least one retaliatory touchdown. Unforunately, my shouting obviously distracted the players because the damned wood elves breezed past our team as the ball they had just kicked flew through the air into our half.

Sensing disaster, Malion threw himself at one of the charging wood elves, only to knock both himself and the runner down. The rest of the wood elves collected the ball and scored without any of our other players even moving from the starting position.


I wasn’t sure if managers could be fired before they’d even played one game but I felt as though it might be happening to me in the dying moments of this abortion of a game.

In an odd bit of luck, or perhaps pity (the vile scum!), the wood elves dropped the ball short into their own half, allowing my team to select who received the ball; I gave it to Riisilneth so she could charge down the pitch and score. The wood elves decided that their good natured pitiful action was over and quickly knocked down the rest of my team as they surrounded Riisilneth, who jumped past them, only to be knocked down once she got into their half.

Game over.

I was beginning to regret the decision to enter into this tournament. My distant relative died for nothing…

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