“Chapter 11

“More dwarves?” asked Surfers Stomp.
“Sort of,” replied Coach Robsson. “Chaos dwarves. Still as small and brutal but they come with hobgoblins.”
“And donkeys,” added Balboa Blue.
“That’s bull centaurs to you. Call them donkeys at your peril.”
“Okay. Will do.”

Hang Eleven, fresh and rested after five days of sun and surf, were playing the Equestrian All-Stars, a relatively new team which was unlikely to offer any surprises to the wood elves.
It was a big day. After five weeks the team’s new stadium was finally finished and the whole team were excited about playing their very first home game on the new pitch. And Coach Robsson was delighted with the finished work. The entire stadium was built on the edge of a low cliff overlooking the ocean, with the main stand raised up on the landward side so that the home fans would be able to watch both the on-field action and the rolling waves beyond, both at the same time. The seating blocks were made entirely from reclaimed driftwood and were possibly the most comfortable Coach Robsson had ever sat on – except perhaps for at some of the vampire palaces where even the cheap seats were covered in plush velvet.
But by far the most impressive aspect of the new stadium was the canopy of giant palm trees. There was one planted at each corner of the pitch, curving in towards the centre of the field and they were so tall and lush that they provided a reasonable degree of cover for the players and fans alike without getting in the way of the action. Coach Robsson was still not quite sure how they’d got there. They were Charlie’s idea. He’d dug out the ground himself, hauled cart-load after cart-load of rich top soil from the nearby forests and prepared the ground. Then one evening he’d turned up with an ancient wood elf mage and four seeds and demanded everyone go home for the night. By the following morning, there were four tiny shoots pushing out through the soil and less than a week later there were the four giant trees, looking for all the world as if they had always been there.
“Wow!” was all the players could say when they were finally allowed to take a look inside their new home. “Wow!”
“Awesome, dudes. And check out that view. Radical.”
Surf City sniffed.
“And you can still smell the ocean. Ahh!”
“Well,” said Coach Robsson. “Take the rest of the morning to wander around and get the feel of the place. Game starts at noon. And let’s see if we can give the fans a match to remember.”


* * * * *


The match was not quite Hang Eleven’s best, but it certainly came close. A 3-1 victory and no injuries was certainly a good way to commemorate the opening of the stadium even if the play had been more cautious than ambitious. The elves had spent most of the match in defence, blocking any attempt the chaos dwarves made to try and get any offence going. True to form, the hobgoblins concentrated on fouling rather than trying to score but neither the elves nor the referee were having any of it and injuries and sending-offs mean the pitch was hobgoblin free by the time the final whistle blew. Even the bull centaurs were unable to break out of the elven defence and the constant ‘donkey’ jibes only made them more angry and careless.

After the match, the elves all headed off to the beach to catch the evening tide but Coach Robsson decided to stay behind. He sat up at the top of the new stand and watched his team surfing the waves off in the distance. It really was a marvellous view, he thought. The beautiful new stadium, the giant palms and the fresh green turf, the clear blue sky and the wide blue sea. Why had he never thought to do this before now? Here was everything he could possibly want out of life.

The turf, and the surf.

Perfect.
”