“Faster you worthless sacks of flesh! How are you ever going to be able to hit anybody if you’re too slow to get near them?” Summers cried out. He was running the Blitz Blasters through a series of drills designed to improve the quickness of their feet. He had spent two weeks preparing the orcs for a real match, and although they had made large improvements, they were still a sorry lot.

“Smacker! Pick your feet up!” he yelled at a lineorc. Stunk ‘Stiffarm’ Smacker had been number thirty one, but so far had not caused any problems for the team. In fact, his passion for the game contributed to the overall atmosphere.

Summers blew the whistle around his neck, and instantly the team dropped and gave him twenty push-ups. Summers was satisfied. He blew the whistle again and they continued the drill.

Summers had been worried about the discipline of a team of orcs, but the team was very obedient because the players respected Summers for having actually played the game, and their enthusiasm was palpable. Summers had solidified his role as the Blood Bowl saint for the orcs one day in practice, when they were goofing off and he decided to get in the scrimmage. The thrower, Knark ‘Bicep’ Thrust, passed him the ball and Summers flattened Kneecap, Smacker, and one of the black orcs, Mach ‘Devour’ Crunch, before the team realized he wasn’t joking around. He scored two more touchdowns easily and the team came to respect him even more after that.

The best part was that they were actually learning from him. They wanted to play well so bad that, although they lacked the natural talent, through sheer determination and teamwork they improved. However, they were a long way from playing against a professional team.

Summers looked over his shoulder and saw Manger walking over to him and waving. Jorkins was with him, but hung back as Manger approached. “You had better find these guys an easy game, or their first game will be their last,” Summers said.

“I already got a game,” said Manger.

“Really? With who?” asked Summers.

“It’s a dwarf team called the Little Oblitzerators. We’re playing at the Oblitzadome, which is a day’s travel from here. And guess who coaches them.”

“Who?” asked Summers.

“Steven Scrum.”

“What? Steven? Our old friend? No way! Since when did he become a Blood Bowl coach?” asked Summers.

“Oh, he’s more than just a coach. He’s a manager. In fact, he owns the Oblitzadome. When you were in Albion, he decided to go into the field of Blood Bowl too. But as you know, he never had the stuff to be a player, and so he found a rookie team and latched onto the staff. He slowly worked his way up and now, he has several teams and his own stadium.”

“I thought you two weren’t in contact with each other since we graduated from school. I know I never wanted to talk to him again,” said Summers.

“I actually haven’t seen him until he called on me to visit him yesterday. He’d heard that I was starting a team and invited me to play at his stadium for old time’s sake,” said Manger.

“Wow. All three of us ended up in Blood Bowl after all,” Summers reflected. After a short pause, he said, “Dwarves you say?”

“Yeah, but they’re a new team too, and it will be the first game for both teams. Shouldn’t be too bad.”

“No, but there is whole different strategy to playing against dwarves. I’ll have to run them through a whole new set of drills. When’s the game?”

“In three days time,” answered Manger. “So I suggest that you work on those plays today, because tomorrow we’ve got to leave for the Oblitzadome. Steven is going to put up the money for our stay. We’ll play the day after we arrive there.”

“Good. You have the transportation all worked out?” Summers asked. Manger nodded. “And what about the uniforms? Did Jason manage to get a good price for them?”

“Yes, but they are a little cheap,” Manger said. Summers frowned. “Don’t worry though. We didn’t hold back on the pads. Our players will be better protected than the dwarves for sure.”

“Good. Well then, I’d better get to running some drills with these guys. They work really well as a team, so I don’t think there will be a problem getting them to learn the new plays. I just have to warn you not to expect anything incredible from these guys.”

“No worries. It’ll be good fun. And we’ll finally get some cash flowing in instead of out!” Manger said, and he walked away, trailed by Jorkins.

Summers blew his whistle and called for the team to gather around him. “Okay boys, I just found out we have our first game in three days.” The orcs roared and cheered in approval. “But that means we just have to train even harder! I have some new plays to show you if we are going to have a chance at winning…”