Chapter 4 

Chapter 4 

The referee's whistle sounded to me like a shot from a cannon right under my ear. Adrenaline rushed through my body. And only thanks to it I didn't miss a direct hit from my opponent, standing opposite and a kick under the knee from his friend on the left. 

I took the blow on my helmet by habit trying to cover the vulnerable places and get ready for a leap forward. And the kick hit the void, because I just sharply pulled back my leg. The opponent on the left, not expecting such a speed of reaction, fell forward almost sitting on a twine. And the guy who was trying to punch me right in the nose was shaking his hand, which was damaged. 

Not wanting to lose that opportunity, I pushed them both out of the way with my palms and elbows. That was enough to get them both to the ground. I prepared to rush in with the team, in a single line. But I was reminded in a brutal way that I was playing Blood Bowl, not rugby or wild American footbal. 

The downed bastard who tried to hit me in the head while he was lying down threw his leg forward aiming for my groin. I try to turn sideways and get sideways, but another member of the enemy team grabs my leg and prevents me from dodging the kick. 

It hurt. No, not deadly, but it still hurt, and at least the codpiece and cup kept me from losing an important organ. With a roar of anger and rage, I yanked my leg out of his grip. I sharply brought my freed foot down on the asshole's arm and pressed it into the ground. The scraping of metal and howls of the enemy signaled that I had managed to injure his arm. But that's not good enough for me, so I start moving my foot like I'm trying to rub out a cigarette filter. 

The bastard starts screaming, judging by the pain and the fact that he can't even squeeze his arm I've broken a couple bones and damaged ligaments. Realizing he's done for now, I turn around to the other freak who wanted to punch me in the groin. He starts to get up, but I'm already grabbing his head and smashing my knee right into his face. He seemed to have some defense, but I didn't care. I just wanted to smash that asshole's face. 

Knee blow worked 100%, the enemy flew away from me for half a meter and judging by the rolled eyes at the moment of landing went into a deep knockout. Great, it felt even pleasant in my soul. But the pain in my groin and the fear that I might lose an important organ filled me with so much anger and rage that I had to beat up the rest of the bastards from the enemy team. 

Something pushed me in the back, and I braced myself for another sneak attack. Quickly turning around and taking aside my arm for a solid blow, I saw that my teammate flew into me clutching the ball to his chest. Behind him in a couple of meters the enemy blitzer ran, who wanted to take away the ball. I pulled him aside with my free hand and greeted the blitzer with a blow of my fist. 

His speed played a cruel joke on him, because he practically shoved his face into my fist. And so hard that he lost at least a couple teeth. 

- That's minus three enemy players, eight to go. - I hum and fix my glove, and then I look at the guy from my team who was looking at the trio of bodies I've beaten. - Why are you standing there? Give me the ball and watch me make some scores. 

I snatch the ball out of his hands and rush into the end zone. My breakthrough came as a surprise to the enemy team. The defense was bogged down in their scrimmage so my only opponent was the thrower. He apparently decided to stop me with a leg tackle, only at the last moment I started to raise my knees high. So instead of a grab, my knee made contact with his head. The way to the end zone was clear, so I gave myself maximum boost and went for my first touchdown. I almost fly into the end zone and tap the ball on the ground. 

- No way! 10 meters...5 meters...1 meter... Touchdown! - shouted loudly by one of the commentators. 

Silence falls on the field. Players, spectators and even the referee stood there with their jaws dropped. Then they all turn together to the scoreboard, on which a small snootling hangs the number 1 and falls down the ladder. Only after looking closely at the scoreboard do I begin to realize why everyone is so surprised. It's been a little less than a minute since the referee's whistle, and already here one team has managed to get a score. 

Yeah, I understand everyone's surprise. The team that nobody believes in shows such a result and all thanks to one player. But this is just the beginning. Equalizing the score is only the first step, now we need to increase the gap in scores. 

With a smirk, I run back to the lineup. Now we need to not screw up the defense, or maybe even better, run a counterattack. 

It took some time to get away from the shock and surprise, and here I am standing in front of a trio of evil freaks. Behind me, their coach is yelling. 

- Take that freak down! Bruce, Godard, Leo! Take him down and beat him till he can't even breathe! 

- Baha! Just hit 'em! Hit 'em and don't stop! - Grimm commands. 

- Pray, puppy. We're gonna beat you so bad, no healer will help you. - one of the trio tries to intimidate me, but I smirk as I imagine how I'll counter them. 

The referee's loud whistle doesn't take me by surprise. From behind I hear the muffled sound of the ball being kicked, and by the edge of my vision I can see exactly where the ball is going. Left. 

- It's time, - I exhale and deliver a jab to the neck area of the guy on the left who has the name Bruce scratched on his helmet. 

Amateurs aren't used to covering their necks as much as possible, so my jab comes as a surprise to Bruce, who grabs his throat trying to take a breath. I quickly take a bull stance and dash forward, throwing Bruce to the ground and using the gap in the defense to get to the thrower. 

He was just getting ready to make a long pass when he saw me coming at him. He went into a stupor, allowing me to easily knock him to the ground. Quickly looking for the ball with my eyes and seeing that it lies a few meters away, I try to pick it up. The ball slips out of my hands before I can grab it properly. 

Bruce's buddies are coming from behind, and realizing that they won't let me get to the ball, I get ready for the fight. The closest one I meet with a straight leg kick, and the other one I catch on the armbar. That's enough to buy me enough time to get the ball. I look back to the spot where I last saw the ball and watch as the thrower, who is struggling to stand on his feet, tries to pick up the ball. 

With a wicked smile I run to him and without letting him touch the ball I kick him in the ass. He falls to the ground again, which gives me a chance to grab the ball. This time I try not to hurry, because I realize that I am far away from the dexterity and flexibility of elves. Everything works out as expected, the ball is in my hand, and I see a clear path to the end zone. All that's left is to get there. 

- Again! Again! He's going for the end zone again! 15...10...5...1! Touchdown! Oh, my gods, what is that?! I can't believe it! - screams the commentator. 

And I looked at the scoreboard again and smiled. 2-1, not bad. But I think we can make the gap even bigger. And my smile made all the opponents shiver. 

After a while. 

- Oh, for fuck's sake! He's going into the end zone again! Where the hell did they find that monster?! - commentator 1. 

- That's 11 touchdowns! - commentator 2. 

- I even feel bad for the Wolves. They were trying to get him down with half their team, but he just stomped them into the dirt or just ran away with the ball into the end zone. - commentator 1. 

- Uh-huh, not only did they get mauled in their own half, but a couple of players were sent to the infirmary. One was barely saved by the team apothecary. - commentator 2. 

- Holy shit! I don't even feel sorry for the money I wasted on betting after a show like that! This is unbelievable! 11 touchdowns and that jackass just smiles! 

- I wanna punch him in his happy face! 

- Go on! Who's stopping you? 

- Fuck you! I don't have insurance or an apothecary to bring me back from the dead. 

- Hahaha. Well, whatever. But let's face it, we saw a great game tonight, even if it was one-sided. 

- Yeah. And what's going on with the Jackass fans? I think they're reminiscing about their youth by looking at the way they're beating up Wolves fans despite being outnumbered. 

The referee's long whistle signaling the end of the game. 

- Great game. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to commentate on their next game. And for free! 

- Why so benevolent?!

- Betting! I can earn more than I make in a year from betting alone! 

- А?! You just wrap it up here, I'll go talk to the boss. 

- Stop, you son of a bitch! I suggested it first! 

The conversation between the two commentators amused me. Sitting on the bench, I polished the ball and watched my teammates and fans celebrating the victory. I was especially amused by Grim, who took a keg and tried to drain it all by himself. 

Yeah. That was fun. We should do it again. - I muttered and stood up from the bench and decided to join the celebration. First game. First win. It should be celebrated properly. 

Carroburg Jackasses 11-1 Wolves of the Fields