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Vincent Whitetree
#15
Zombie
MA
4
ST
3
AG
2
AV
8
R
0
B
3
P
0
F
0
G
4
Cp
0
In
0
Cs
0
Td
0
Mvp
0
GPP
0
XPP
0
SPP
0
Injuries
Skills
Regeneration
Vincent Whitetree was an ambitious orc. They always said he was too weedy, too tiny and snappable to be a superstar Blood Bowl player. He only just scraped through his class at Blood Bowl College and wasn't taken on by any professional teams. Unbowed, he worked double sessions in the gym and ate only moose eggs (well known for the bestowing of strength and thickening out tiny, girl-like wrists.) He created an awesome video on YooToobe showing all his best bits from training (it wasn't a very long video.)
Finally he got his chance. Kolsche Kloppkloppaz called one day needing a last minute replacement Lineman for their game against the Flesheaters. They were actually looking for his neighbour, Grincent Redtree, but so desperate were they for a player that Vincent was given a shirt and told to boot up.
Patiently Vincent sat on the substitutes bench as the game unfolded before him, waiting for his chance. He sat and watched as the Flesheaters stormed into a first half lead, knowing that he could make all the difference. Angry and running short of bodies, the Kloppkloppaz coach, IrrerIvan Greentooth decided to give the young rookie a shot. "Get out there and do some damage, umm...."
"Vincent?"
"Yeah sure, Vincent, whatever. Get out there and do some damage and try not to die ok?"
It was the proudest day of Vincent's life. Now, finally, he was a real-life Blood Bowl player just like he'd always dreamed. Ah, if only the kids that used to make fun of him at school could see him now. If only Jane (who once almost accidentally kissed him at the school dance becasue she thought he was a glass of punch) was here to watch him triumpgh over years of adversity and hardship. Hang on, isn't that Jane right there in the crowd????
Vincent turned around just in time to see Baker Street launch himeself into his chest. Vincent thought as he sailed through the air into the frenzied crowd;
"This. This is what a Blood Bowl ball must feel like as it's being passed majestically through the sky by a High Elf. I should have been born a High Elf."
Vincent was impaled on the helmet spike of an ogre in the crowd and died instantly. The last words he heard were those of Baker Street; the Wight that had caused his untimely demise.
"Great. Now I won't even get the Cas!"
Finally he got his chance. Kolsche Kloppkloppaz called one day needing a last minute replacement Lineman for their game against the Flesheaters. They were actually looking for his neighbour, Grincent Redtree, but so desperate were they for a player that Vincent was given a shirt and told to boot up.
Patiently Vincent sat on the substitutes bench as the game unfolded before him, waiting for his chance. He sat and watched as the Flesheaters stormed into a first half lead, knowing that he could make all the difference. Angry and running short of bodies, the Kloppkloppaz coach, IrrerIvan Greentooth decided to give the young rookie a shot. "Get out there and do some damage, umm...."
"Vincent?"
"Yeah sure, Vincent, whatever. Get out there and do some damage and try not to die ok?"
It was the proudest day of Vincent's life. Now, finally, he was a real-life Blood Bowl player just like he'd always dreamed. Ah, if only the kids that used to make fun of him at school could see him now. If only Jane (who once almost accidentally kissed him at the school dance becasue she thought he was a glass of punch) was here to watch him triumpgh over years of adversity and hardship. Hang on, isn't that Jane right there in the crowd????
Vincent turned around just in time to see Baker Street launch himeself into his chest. Vincent thought as he sailed through the air into the frenzied crowd;
"This. This is what a Blood Bowl ball must feel like as it's being passed majestically through the sky by a High Elf. I should have been born a High Elf."
Vincent was impaled on the helmet spike of an ogre in the crowd and died instantly. The last words he heard were those of Baker Street; the Wight that had caused his untimely demise.
"Great. Now I won't even get the Cas!"
Match performances
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