Hmmm, there’s another Blood Bowl season on the horizon, and I need a challenge, what team should I pick? Vampires! What could possibly go wrong?
The afternoon was infected with the smell of death and excrement as the Springfield Sundivers lined up on the underground (and horribly, eye-strainingly busy) astrogranite of the Ratlanta Falchions. 19,000 sweating, water-burger-eating, Bugmans-chugging souls on the terracing, screamed for blood, or at least the Falchions fans did. The 8,000 strong travelling thrall contingent prayed that their lords and masters would smell no blood at all, so they could all go home safely until summoned to witness another game.
The Sundivers kicked to the rats who immediately broke through the line of scrimmage and swept the ball towards the endzone. Moonscar was having little of this however and poleaxed the cheeky gutter, scooping up the ball.
This was the point where my lack of practise with Vamps shone through like a beacon in Martin’s sad little life (Martin, my opponent, coach of said rats, is a rather forlorn and pathetic little figure, somewhat reminiscent of a withered Norman Tebbit, but without the compassion. Anyway, I digress).
Moonscar stood transfixed as the vermin horde closed in, solidy dispatching her thrall team mates, aided by the other two vampires, feasting merrily on the blood of their own team. The fools!
As the half drew to a close, Moonscar broke from her reverie and danced up the pitch, lofting a pass high towards Acheron, who brought the ball in closely to his chest, handed off an unfortunate linerat and hurtled into the rats endzone for the opening score of the game.
Martin frothed angily on the sidelines, flashing a middle finger salute at the braying horde of thralls in the away end behind the endzone. You don’t expect class from a rats coach, but this was barrel scraping terribleness of the highest magnitude.
The Sundivers started the second half down to half a dozen fit players and receiving the kick, they became mired in their own half, swamped by filthy vermin. I’m itching just remembering it.
Try as they might, they couldn’t punch a way through the rats defence, Acheron, Vampire scoring genius was taken down and out of the game and Amarande’s weavings up the pitch could create neither opportunity for a pass nor an opening in the rats two-deep defensive line.
It was only a matter of time before the numbers told and the Falchions equalised, and with four turns left on the clock and five players on the pitch, the Sundivers couldn’t hold out and conceded in the last turn to lose their opening game, 2-1.
In the other game of the day, perpetual wooden-spoon contender, Scott, surprised everyone by coaching Douglas Valley Darkside to a 3-0 win over Punch Suckers. Darkside are Dark Elves, so it’s virtually cheating anyway, but coach Scott demanded respect by saying “It was pure skill, all my players have AG 4”.
This unexpected victory throws the Southern Conference wide open.
