#3 Rathlin – Groin Strain (MNG) #4 Great Blasket – Dead (RIP) #9 Foula – Fractured Arm (MNG)
“In 50 years time, when fans and aficionados are looking back through the history books, one name will crop up time and again in the same sentence as words like 'remarkable', 'brave', 'gutsy' and 'genius'. And that name will be Creekmoor. Coach Creekmoor. Surely the greatest coach ever to not win many matches.
After a 6 year hiatus, the reasons for which we are not permitted to go into for legal reasons, Creekmoor was back, as brave and committed as ever. Back with his Crusaders. It was Norse against Norse as the Crusaders attempted to end an impressive unbeaten 7/0/0 record of the Raiders.
Times may have changed, but Creekmoor and his Crusaders' luck hasn't. Despite the same strengths, the same armour and the same skills as their opponents, the Crusaders took "one hell of a beating!" Time and again, men were taken out, pole-axed, savaged, and, sorry to report, fouled. Indeed, Great Blasket made the ultimate sacrifice for his fellow Norsemen. I don't mind admitting there were a few tears around the stadium when Blasket was taken from us.
Critics in the future might look back at this, and other games, and point at calls that Creekmoor made, and suggest that they were the wrong calls, diabolical decisions, shocking errors etc (yes, perhaps 20 yards from the end zone, with ball in hand, Lundy should have been instructed to go for it). But these are in reality the building blocks, the jigsaw pieces, which, when finally put together in the right order, will give us one of the greatest coaches of the modern era.
I am sure we can all raise a glass to that prospect.
In the meantime, does anyone know any decent blood donors?!”
“Well it was worth waiting for - the comeback match of one of the most, if not THE most, successful BB coaches of all time Hepworthnot.
A rather sparse crowd turned out in fine weather to see a clash of Norsemen, the unbeaten Rusland Raiders (it's hard to lose when you don't concede touchdowns) against constantly-battling-relegation-side Crusaders of Creekmoor (or the COCS as we like to call them).
Could the Raiders pick up from where they left off? Spoiler alert, yes they could, and some.
The first half was notable only for poor play on both sides although the Raiders managed one or two good hits which saw the Crusaders only field 10 men in the second half. The lowlight of the period was an astonishing loss of nerve by Bardsey. With the line at his mercy he inexplicably waited for support - the cavalry duly arrived but wearing the red of the Raiders, they beat him down to howls of derision from the Crusaders' fans.
I'm not sure what was in the oranges the Raiders had at half time but they came out a mean lean killing machine. Hit after hit reduced the Crusaders to a handful on the pitch - Rathlin and Foula won't be playing next week and Great Blasket won't be playing again, ever. Incredible hit by Krul put an end to his career and a dent in the BloodBowl Widows' Pension Fund.
Sven scored the first touchdown in the 6th period of the half pretty much unopposed. The Raiders' decision not to simply run the clock down was sporting and effective. The Crusaders making an almighty hash of the restart despite catching the ball straight from the kick. They left the middle of the pitch wide open, fumbled the ball and Benny wasn't going to miss that opportunity. He scooped the ball from the Crusader blood soaked turf and made for the corner crossing the whitewash in front of the adoring fans.
They're back, that's all you need to know.”
Click on the charts to toggle relative statistics.
After a 6 year hiatus, the reasons for which we are not permitted to go into for legal reasons, Creekmoor was back, as brave and committed as ever. Back with his Crusaders. It was Norse against Norse as the Crusaders attempted to end an impressive unbeaten 7/0/0 record of the Raiders.
Times may have changed, but Creekmoor and his Crusaders' luck hasn't. Despite the same strengths, the same armour and the same skills as their opponents, the Crusaders took "one hell of a beating!" Time and again, men were taken out, pole-axed, savaged, and, sorry to report, fouled. Indeed, Great Blasket made the ultimate sacrifice for his fellow Norsemen. I don't mind admitting there were a few tears around the stadium when Blasket was taken from us.
Critics in the future might look back at this, and other games, and point at calls that Creekmoor made, and suggest that they were the wrong calls, diabolical decisions, shocking errors etc (yes, perhaps 20 yards from the end zone, with ball in hand, Lundy should have been instructed to go for it). But these are in reality the building blocks, the jigsaw pieces, which, when finally put together in the right order, will give us one of the greatest coaches of the modern era.
I am sure we can all raise a glass to that prospect.
In the meantime, does anyone know any decent blood donors?!”