“Kondor crossed the pitch and thanked Coach Wozza for the match. The runts he led had performed admirably. On the other hand, Kondor's squad had proven themselves to be exactly what he thought them to be. PATHETIC. Sure Kondor could make excuses, but in the end, crew had been playing against creatures half their size. No excuse was acceptable.

Take the opening kick-off for example. Sure a rock knocked out one thrower. But the other “thrower” was so mesmerized by the action he never even moved to pick up the ball. I know he is a rookie but you have to expect flying flings and a quick TD if you are not on your game.

The match bright spot was the lone human TD. A pass to a catcher followed by a hand off to a blitzer. Textbook Kondor play calling.

Unfortunately, that is the only thing that went right. The ball was on the ground most of the second half but the nervous rookies never successfully cleared it for the go ahead point. No. This team had proven themselves to be as inept as expected.

Kondor walked into the locker room and heard unacceptably happy chatter. One of the blitzers was chatting away. His name may have been Jimmy but how could one be sure.

“Do you believe two of those runts had the guts to play against us with no helmet? Crazy buggers! I think Andy taught ‘em the value of proper gear. Perhaps they will bury him with a team helmet….”
Someone noticed the coach had walked into the room and the team hopped to their feet.

Kondor resisted the urge to rant. The game had actually accomplished the most important goal. He had now coached a human team against every race known to take the blood bowl pitch. 5 games to go and he would have a new badge of honor to hang on his wall.

Suddenly he did not have the heart to berate this pathetic band. He addressed the group. “Pack y’er gear. Y’er all fired.”

As he turned and walked to his office the only thing that broke the silence was Jimmy’s quiet sobs. Or at least Kondor thought his name was Jimmy.
”