Greetings, nerd type.

As you sit, likely in your underwear listening to Dido (that’s right, I’ve rumbled you), surveying the world from the comfort of an LCD display, it’s easy to forget real meatbags exist. It’s likely you once knew at least two meatbags yourself; perhaps you’re an advanced nerd and you’ve taken one into your lair to provide you with food, or to type /cheer for you because you’re too lazy. Perhaps you’ve projected some DNA into a female meatbag at some time or other, and meatbags of your very own have gestated within her. Nine months later, they have fought their way to freedom to consume your cash and life force. So, some of you will be familiar with others of the same species.

Curiously (and scientists are yet to fully understand this phenomenon), meatbags occasionally like to gather for ‘social time’. An odd concept, I know. Consider it like spectating a match with many others, only you don’t need to use your keyboard to insult them, but that gap in the middle of your face used mostly to insert pies to extend FUMBBL time. This ‘social time’ is usually predicated on sharing a hobby or pastime all participant meatbags enjoy, usually with a social, alcoholic, lubricant involved to cut back on awkward silences and stop you driving back to your laptop to end having to play nice with others.

My favourite version of this kind of occasion is where 150 or so meatbags gather in Nottingham around May time to push small pieces of painted metal around on cardboard to win fantasy sporting matches between made up races. These toy soldier movements are usually paired with throwing cuboids around and swearing at the pretty, skeletal like picture or solitary dot that lands face up most of the time. After each set of 3 ‘matches’, we insert pies into that face gap I talked about earlier and continue to imbibe alcohol until the wee hours; often ending up horizontal having put many faces to names what we have seen on this here website.

Yes, friends, in six weeks time, the NAF Championship (NAFC) is taking place in Nottingham. For the first time, the biggest nerd party of them all (well, team events apart) is entirely under the control of that most wonderful group of men, the NAF. For those not in the know, these individuals tirelessly work on a voluntary basis to make your Blood Bowl happy, even if you don’t know about it. This year, not bound by the constraints of a Games Workshop location, the event promises to be the best yet. The venue looks fantastic, the party is guaranteed to be wonderful, and you get to meet / punch / kiss / pay me.

Five or so years ago, I thought anyone who played this game in reality must be an uber nerd, an idiot, an ugly son of a gun who was probably not worth spending any time with and should probably be put down for the rest of the world’s benefit. That rogue PeteW convinced me to attend a nerd gathering, and I can confidently say that all of the above is true. However, the process of a tabletop tournament is actually surprisingly charming. People you meet are as embarrassed to be there as you are. Talking about Blood Bowl to a person that doesn’t instantly want to leave the room and blow it up with you inside is relaxing. Drinking is good. Actually touching dice and pushing bits of metal about is oddly gratifying. Actually, I wish I was doing it right now. It beats this Dido record and these pants need changing.

So, I recommend, insist, nay, ORDER you to attend the NAFC this year. For it will be the gateway drug to our beautiful, real, hobby for you. It will open your eyes to the world of Blood Bowl beyond these four walls. It will make you a better person. Not having minis is no excuse, we’ll sort something out for you. I promise I won’t bite; and I also promise to buy one pint for each FUMBBList for whom this is their first tournament.

Get thee to Nottingham, be changed by our hobby. See details here; http://www.thenaf.net/index.php?name=PNphpBB2&file=viewtopic&t=5779

Big hugs, meatbags. X