For the Love of the Game

      It had been five years since I had joined Team Faerieland. My bond with my teammates had only grown with time. We had worked steadily during the Reconstruction. Slowly but surely improvements were made. Just this year, Queen Fyora had announced Reconstruction had been completed.

      It was a wonderful feeling to see Faerieland finished after five long years. Nothing could erase the memory of the Fall; there were traces of it everywhere one looked. The crater-for better or worse-was our home. Faerieland had taken that immense loss and turned it into something beautiful. At last, we could turn our attention to our long forgotten training.

     We jumped into spring training with renewed vigour. I can’t describe how good it felt to be back on the field with my team. We gave our all to every practice. Our bond helped immensely with this as we fell into an easy groove. Yet, we never lost our joie de vivre.

      “This season is going to be different. I can feel it,” I confided to my team.

      “This is our season!” Kakoni declared.

      We were right. It was the best season Faerieland had ever had. We won game after game, working our way up the ranks. We surprised everyone with how well we did. Naturally, this dramatic improvement warranted us more attention than our team had ever had before.

      “Elbin, this question is for you,” a reporter asked, pen and notepad in hand. “Do you think your team is finally going to win the Cup this year?”

      I looked at my teammates, a broad smile on my face. “Whether we win or lose the Cup, I’ve already won with the best team I could ever have.”

      We didn’t let the extra attention go to our heads. We kept our focus on the Cup. While our priority wasn’t to win, we all shared the joy of the game. Our fans backed us one hundred percent. They were the best fans an athlete could ask for as their loyalty had encouraged us over the years we had been consistent contenders for last place in the league.

      Now it appeared that our moment had come.

      The game that stuck out the most to me during this season was the one against Terror Mountain. They had not been faring well during the Cup this season. Despite our improved performance, we didn’t dare take it for granted. So, we went into this game with the same determination we always had to give it our all. Though, we wouldn’t forget to have fun while we did.

      The game started off hot with a couple of fire Yooyus. I clashed in the center of the field with Guilako. We stared each other down, the Yooyu a fiery ball in my opponent’s racket. This was a dance he and I had performed before. In previous seasons, he had helped his team to victory.

      “Not this time, Guilako,” I said as I managed to steal the Yooyu.

      Working as one, my team scored with both fire Yooyus.

      Then the game stuttered to a stop with not one but two Darigan Yooyus. I’d been playing professional Yooyuball for almost a decade. In all that time, I had yet to figure out how to handle a Darigan Yooyu with any degree of success. We spent quite a bit of time darting around the field as we tried to get the Yooyus into a net, any net. Naturally, our efforts were all in vain.

      At last, they scored: one for us and one for our opponents.

      It was at this point in the game that I noticed the state Terror Mountain was in. Hailing from a notoriously snowy peak and clad in fur, the summer heat was starting to get to them. Having dashed about after the Darigan Yooyus just as we had, the endeavour had worn them out. I chanced a look at the clock; we still had half a game to go. I kept that in mind as the next Yooyu appeared.

      The game didn’t get any easier as a mutant Yooyu came onto the field. Kakoni and I did our best to keep the Yooyu away from our rival forwards. Of course, the Yooyu didn’t always cooperate. Though, it wasn’t as difficult as it could have been, given that Terror Mountain was no longer in peak form. Thankfully, the mutant didn’t take nearly as long as the Darigan had and we managed to score for our team.

      After that, a clockwork Yooyu appeared.

      Kakoni released a minute sigh.

      I caught his eye and dipped my head towards a speed power-up that had popped up nearly at my feet.

      Kakoni gave an almost imperceptible nod.

      That was all the encouragement I needed. I snatched the power-up and-in a burst of speed-reached the clockwork. Unlike my previous captains, Kakoni never gave direct orders out on the field. He trusted his team to make their own decisions. With the help of the power-up, I was able to make the goal.

      After that, a Darigan Yooyu made a goal for our opponents. We made several goals, and I checked the clock. Time was running out. Even now, I found it difficult to believe that we were actually winning. Then another Darigan Yooyu made an appearance on the field.

      With a considerable lead, I briefly considered letting our opponents have this one. Of course, that had never been my style. I let Guilako take the Yooyu and watched him rush past me and Kakoni. He got held up with Ciona and Delma, both of them wary of him actually making a goal. He tried shooting the Yooyu between them and it shot straight back towards me.

      Anticipating this, I had positioned myself accordingly and caught the Yooyu in my racket. “Nice one, Guilako!”

      Then I spun around and made my way up the field.

      “I don’t know why you’re putting so much effort in, Elbin,” Prytariel said with a frown as I neared her. “It’s almost impossible to make a goal with one of those.”

      “Tell that to your own forward,” I said as I let Guilako take the Yooyu from me.

      Kakoni had kept up with me and together, we cornered Guilako. Unable to force his way past us, he tried to toss the Yooyu over us. Now, with a normal Yooyu this manoeuvre may have worked. Of course, the Darigan Yooyu responded quite differently. It bounced off the wall behind Guilako before shooting in my direction.

      Sensing an opportunity, I sidestepped and let the Yooyu fly past. Lazy as I knew Minae to be, she was nowhere near to block the Yooyu. It entered the goal with zero resistance. It was then that the buzzer sounded. I exchanged a triumphant look with Kakoni.

      We had won!

      In the end, we reached fourth place overall, just short of the podium. This unusually high placement garnered almost as much attention as the winning teams that year. Frankly, the attention was a bit exhausting. The reporters were even more difficult to evade than the toughest rival. Not to mention, they continued to ask the same questions, as if they couldn’t quite believe the answers or were hoping for something else with each repetition.

      “What’s your secret, Worrill?” yet another reporter asked.

      I had had a run-in or ten with various reporters and they had learned to direct their often-pointed questions to other members of the team. Most of them tended to focus their attention on our poor captain. We could all see the strain these questions took on him yet Kakoni never lost his temper. He simply answered the questions as he always did. Honestly.

      “Secret?” Kakoni adjusted his goggles, peering at the reporters that blocked our way down the street. “Team Faerieland has no secrets.”

      This question was typical of reporters. There were many that believed our team had cheated. Of course, it was preposterous! A reporter had been dumb enough to ask me that alone. It was the reason they no longer asked me questions.

     “Then how did your team pull off such a meteoric rise in the ranks?”

     “By playing as we always have: together.”

     We had tried explaining without success that our team had also-for the first time since before the Fall-been able to prioritize training. That our bond had grown strong thanks to the Reconstruction so that we were able to work in sync with nary a glance between us. That our teamwork and sheer spirit had endured through so much that nothing could stop us given the chance. That the other teams in the league had underestimated us and we had taken them completely by storm. Of course, this they chose not to believe.

     “Are you disappointed you didn’t make it to the podium?”

     Ciona snorted. “We don’t play for the podium!”

     There was a momentary pause, as the reporters exchanged incredulous looks. Why else would a team participate in the Altador Cup if not to win? If not to receive fame and glory?

     “So why do you play?”

     “For the love of the game.”

      The End.