Dietmar puts two marks behind his own name. "This season, the title will be mine. It surely will!", he mumbles to himself. Then he puts a thick crimson line over Calvin Pryor's name. "Dead...dead..dead..." his tight, almost desperate grip nearly crushes the colour stick. "And Dont'a Hightower of the Patriots is out this round, and Bish of the Knights took a hip injury in tonigts match against the Rangers. He won't be back for the next match" He mulls that over. Releases the pitiful remnants of the colour stick. Lets his fingers drum on the letter to Friedrich Dunkelhelm in Brionne. "So if Friedrich does not bonehead when he tries to open this letter, he will probably follow my advice and run 15 miles before each of the remaining Buccaneers games.. that should make even him too tired to hit very hard." Dietmar looks at the statistics again. Only one name stands out. Dont'a Hightower of the Eagles. The only remaining challenger. "Who can rid me of this meddlesome blitzer!", he screams.

Inga opens the door carefully and pops her blonde head inside. "You Okay, Dietmar? I heard some screams from inside...?" Dietmar waves her away. "It was nothing, Inga." He raises from the chair, grabs the letter and strides towards the door, passing Inga on his way. "I'm off to post this letter..." Inga gets a glimpse of the address. "Send Friedrich hugs and kisses from me!"; she shouts to the broad back of Dietmar Althoff, star blitzer of the Carroburg Crimson Cascade.