TECHNICALI VS IRON TANK
Maci Gian
After so much anticipation over the rescheduled match, Iron Tank came out on top, beating Technicali in their very own Hub, 0 - 3.
Though that isn’t to say Technicali didn’t go down without a fight. Everyone displayed a valiant effort trying to maneuver through the German Giants to get the ball away from them. While they did have multiple successful attempts, they hardly stood a chance against Iron Tank’s method of ‘plow through your enemies at full force’, which showed to be as effective as always, especially when they were against another team half their size.
Despite this difference, Technicali refused to be completely overpowered! Their defense throughout the game was phenomenal, not just from the defenders, but from everyone! Excellent communication was on full display, and their captain, Chuck T. Chipperson, was completely on top of everything! He kept tabs on all of his teammates, never lost sight of the ball, and used the time he had on the field to help his defenders out.
Their score may have stayed at zero, but Technicali kept their spirits high.
It wouldn’t surprise me if the team’s constant optimism was possible due to the noticeable absence of their pessimistic coach, Toni Vern. While it was most likely a load off their shoulders to not have to worry about a senile scientist constantly yelling at them, or committing constant acts of sabotage, one can’t help but wonder how a team’s own coach would willingly back out of aiding them.
Once the crowds had dispersed after the game, and Iron Tank had marched off the field and into the Hub, I took the chance to interview some of Technicali’s players about their thoughts.
“It’s never a good day when we lose in our own stadium,” Chuck T. Chipperson told me, hands on his hips as he stood in front of his other teammates, who were littered on and around the bench, “but I’m still proud of everyone. I know 0 - 3 is real brutal, but we stayed on our markers, applied what we practiced, and our defenders did a real great job.”
Two members—Thaddeus Tharrington The III & Kyle Kowalski (what names!)—the defenders, both who were sitting on the grass—exhaustingly raised their fists into the air, one of them let out a tired ’Yeah!’ before slumping over again.
When asked how Toni Vern helped them prepare for this match, Chuck hesitated before Kyle spoke up.
“Nah, nah, our cap’s the reason we didn’t look like complete garbage out there today.”
“No—no, that’s not true.” Chuck shot his hands up as he shook his head, a bit of sweat still dripping down his pale beige face, ”We all worked hard because—“
“Because you practiced with each’a us till we got everything down. Don’t be so humble just cause a li’l ol’ reporter’s here.” He teased as he brushed a strand of his black hair out of his face and back into the hood of his suit. I never realized how saturated Technicali’s suits were till now. The bright yellow and blue combination completely threw the hue of the team’s skin tones. I couldn’t tell if Kyle’s dark, brown skin had any reddish tint to it, or if it was cooler toned, or if the yellow of the suit had finally seared itself into my eyes and messed up my vision.
Chuck’s face flashed red for a second—which he quickly hid by blocking his face with his hands as he took down the blue hood of his one piece uniform.
“Either way, it’s important we don’t take this loss too hard.” He looked at me before looking back at his team, “Iron Tank’s nearly twice our size in height, and thrice in weight. Not to mention we don’t play against them too often.” He said, “We’ll use this game as an opportunity to analyze what moves they used out on our field and find out how to beat ‘em next time!”
Multiple Technicali members pushed through their exhaustion and cheered.
“Yeah, and hopefully they’ll be more aware of their surroundings next time.” Thaddeus muttered as he pushed himself off the grass and stood beside Chuck, brushing the grass off of the—I think—peachy, orange-ish skin of his hands, “I got rammed into two separate times. The second time their big, sweaty, mustached guy ran into me and dragged me all the way to the goal without noticing!” He threw his arms up, “I was face-first in that guy’s chest and he didn’t hear me scream once. He doesn’t have any hair on that head of his, so what’s blocking those ears?!” He then froze and quickly looked at me, “Iron Tank… Doesn’t read your articles, do they?”
When I told him I’ve yet to receive any comments or emails indicating such, he immediately looked relieved.
(I hope Iron Tank doesn’t visit our site, I’m still worried about that one guy I shouted at).
I had shifted back to Toni & their practice, but when the team was questioned on how he was going to help them prep for their future match against Supa Strikas, a few of them sharply inhaled.
“Toni, he—he gets caught up with work.” Chuck finally said.
“But isn’t coaching his work?” I asked.
Chuck didn’t look at me, “Well, yeah, but he’s—he kinda gets caught up with his other work. He’s a busy guy, and I get it, but—“
“Awh, busy busy busy. That’s what he always tells everyone, but he’s not here right now.” Kyle cut in as pushed himself away from the outer rim of the bench’s overhang, approached his captain, and put an arm around him, “Y’can tell the reporter: Toni does nothin’ but sit down and clack away at that computer of his.”
Chuck shrugged his shoulders to get the arm off of him, “It’s related to soccer—“
“Yeah, that’s what he tells us, but he never shows us what he’s doing, and whenever he actually puts his work out on the field, he rather get in trouble or we do.”
“Look, I know it can be frustrating, but you can’t talk about our coach like that—”
“What’s he gonna do?” Kyle scoffed, “Pay attention to us?”
Before Chuck could argue back, the goalkeeper—Benedict B. Bradley—spoke up.
“You know, he gets my name wrong, like, all the time.” He said, taking his hood off and ruffling his frizzy, thick, black hair that had been tied into a loose ponytail. It stopped at just the end of his neck, and I couldn’t help but think about how hot it had to get in the uniform with all that hair. “He thinks my name is Thaddeus. I’m Benedict. I’m the only guy who wears all blue on this team.” He put a hand on his chest.
“He keeps mixin’ up John J. Johnson Jr. and Chuck together.” Kyle added in with a laugh.
Chuck jumped at the mention of his name, and when Benedict had suddenly joined his side and put his arm around him this time, “Okay, in his defense we do stand together a lot.”
“Speaking of which,” I said as the team laughed at Chuck’s embarrassment, “Where is John J. Johnson Jr. ?”
The team stood still for a moment and thought to themselves. A couple members quickly scanned the field to see if he was nearby.
“Probably helping Toni outta whatever mess he got into with Iron Tank’s coach.” Thaddeus raised his brown brows.
“Whew, would hate to be him right now.” Kyle said.
“Toni or John?” Thaddeus asked.
“Either!” Kyle shot back with a cheeky smile and snickered with Thaddeus.
I then asked them if Iron Tank was still in the stadium.
“I mean… Maybe?” Thaddeus shrugged, “After the game ended they didn’t celebrate or anythin’, their coach just yelled ‘em to go inside and find Toni. Think they were still mad about that tank thing, y’know?”
On the topic of ’mad’, I couldn’t help but start to worry about that one Iron Tank player I yelled at, and whether or not they’re mad at me. If there’s even a chance Iron Tank’s still roaming inside The Hub—and they probably are cause the Hub is stupidly huge—then that means there’s a chance I could run into them.
Not wanting to risk staying any longer, I ended the interview rather abruptly, thanking Technicali for their time, that I’ll still have those one-on-one interviews with some of their players later, and wishing them best of luck with their next game.
I might’ve gotten a few confused looks because of how frantic I was talking, but I’d rather be judged than dead!
I’ll feel safer and more prepared when I attend Iron Tank’s next match against Colossus, and I’ll also be writing my next big article about that game as well, and I can’t do that if I’m dead, now can I?