Watchful Eyes

Coach South was surrounded by what was left of Da Little Yobz.

Their second season had started well and they had continued to have fun playing even when the results started to go against them, let’s be fair it was more to do with taking part than winning anyway!

Unfortunately the reason for this meeting of the team was to say farewell to Sour. The big troll had played well and had learnt some handy new skills since Da Little Yobz had started playing and had left his mark on a few other players in two season’s worth of playing but now he had gone. The last game had been a disaster, nuffle had forsaken them! Larry Da Looney spent the first part of the match wrestling with his saw rather than cutting the other side down and whether this had put off the rest of the team or if they had already got one eye on the post season party. Either way they just couldn’t put a block together or even pick up the ball.

Things soon came to head and as usual they were behind 1-0 and on their drive. Rather unusually, as they had no inducements, they had no spare cash to share with the normally grateful ref and so they found themselves starting their next drive very undermanned. This ended in nothing happening except yet more gobbo’s being hit down.

Then at the very start of the second half the worst happened!

There was a rumble and from above a huge fireball came falling to the ground landing with a sickening crunch right on poor Sour’s head. Once the smoke had cleared the destruction was clear. No way was Sour going to recover from that on his own so the Doc ran to the scene of the carnage but alas Sour was no more! The rest of the game saw just four gobbo’s quivering in the corner of the pitch.

And so here at the wake for Sour coach South could see that there was no will in the team at this time to return to competitive play and they needed time to find that “fun” in the game that had made him want to take then on the road to play in the best league around, the MML.

South could no longer listened to the sobbing from the gobbo’s and he made his excuses to leave. He left the club bar and wandered around Da Yate Yobz complex, the Y.O.S.C (Yate Outdoors Sports Centre) thinking if the old team of Orcs were ready for their return?

It was then that he realized he was being followed. From the shadows eyes were watching him. Then as he turns a corner, there in front of him stands a huge Rat Ogre. As he turns to run another smaller skaven stands in his way. “No need to run coach, we mean no harm.”

It was this rat, covered in armor that lead him to a dark corner of the complex. Here he showed South what he had assembled, enough rats to form a team and he explained why they had come forward now.

The story he told was of these rats watching the exploits of Da Yate Yobz from the sewers that surround the area and how they worshipped them! So much so that they had all picked their favorite orc and had re-named themselves in honor of them. They were shocked and saddened when the Yobz had not resigned two seasons ago but had enjoyed watching the gobbo’s play. This had lead them to start the thinking that if these little greenskinz could play then perhaps so could they. They had started playing deep underground and had kept an eye on everything that happened above.

They had heard South talking to himself wrestling with the idea of bringing Da Yate Yobz back and thought they would offer their suggestion.

“Give us a chance Coach, let us honor our hero’s by letting us play in the MML and play at the YOSC coached by you!”

Seeing the passion in these young rats eyes how could he refuse, plus he had nothing to lose.

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