Coach Grase

August 05, 2016 11:15 PM
Juliet was excited.

Like, really excited! Championship games always incited a feeling of EXCITEMENT, even if she wasn’t playing in them. Once a person had been in their own finals, it was way too easy to get second-hand hyped when witnessing someone else’s. Being able to empathize with the blood, sweat, and (sometimes) tears necessary to hone your skills, combined with the total hours put into games and strategy and practices to get to that last game, would always get Juliet’s own adrenaline running just to be there.

The wind on the pitch that afternoon was calm; a gentle breeze that was just enough to lift the tip of Juliet’s ponytail around to the front of her face where it playfully smacked at her cheek. A lovely spring day to say the least, wonderful for any game, but perfect for a championship. The athletes wouldn’t need to deal with any adverse conditions, allowing them to focus their entire being on the game. While she was certainly prepared to give today her full attention as referee, Juliet made a mental note to watch some of the older kids from time to time with the mindset of a scout. If these athletes took today as seriously as she hoped they would, they’d be leaving everything out there in the sky, and it certainly couldn’t hurt to scout out some potential talent in case someone felt the urge to go pro. Juliet still had connections, if not with just her Dragons, but her notoriety was enough to carry a hopeful player to their first try out, at least.

Juliet was happy to see the stands fill with more than the obligatory number of professors, staff, and students. A good crowd, for a beautiful day, for a good game. She cast the sonorus charm on herself and gave her usual cheerful welcome to the crowd, thanking them for attending and whatnot, as the Pecari and Aladren teams made their way from the locker rooms out to the center of the pitch.

“Congrats to all of you for getting here!” Juliet said to the athletes in front of her. “I hope all of you do your absolute best today. Be safe, play fair. Alright, let’s go!” After everyone appeared to be ready to play, Juliet released the bludgers and the snitch, blew her whistle, and tossed the quaffle up into the air. She then took a few steps out from under the mess of blue and brown uniforms before hopping onto her own broom and joining them in the air.
Subthreads:
0 Coach Grase Championship Game! Pecari vs. Aladren 0 Coach Grase 1 5


<font color="blue">Captain Bennett, Beater</font>

August 07, 2016 7:22 PM
He guessed the thought must have been in the back of his head all year, but as Leonidas got ready for the Quidditch final – as always, it was Pecari; as always, Aladren was going to make them look even worse than their Seeker managed to do just by being himself in their uniform – he had suddenly realized that this actually was the last time he was ever going to go through the routine of most of the past seven years. He might play Quidditch again, might even, if he ended up in a workplace with enough wizards to make teams out of, play Quidditch competitively again, but he’d never play it with these people again. Leonidas had never been close to the younger players, just briefly thrilled with them for existing when they’d joined up because they’d kept him from being the captain who let it all fall down like a house of cards, but he found it hard not to turn sentimental at the sight of even Jack and Louis and Arianna in those blue robes.

Sentimentality was not something Aladrens, as a rule, smiled on, though, so he tried to push those thoughts right back into whatever cells they had slipped out of as he actually got ready to speak to his team.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said. “I’m glad to say it looks like we’re going to have decent weather this time, so you won’t have to take any extra measures to make sure you end the game with all the extremities you started with. Just make sure you don’t get too hot – we can take a time-out for a water break if we have to. As long as we all take care of ourselves, this should be straightforward, all by the numbers.”

Arianna, of course, was not familiar with a by-the-numbers Quidditch final, where Aladren soundly beat Pecari without much trouble, but he expected the others had told her stories. Just to be sure, though, he added, “Aladren beats Pecari, lady and gentlemen. Always. Today’s no exception. I’ll take care of Clark, the rest of you just rack up the points and give all your dates in the stands a good show.” Which reminded him, he really needed to have a…something that resembled friendly, anyway…conversation with John, but he’d deal with that later. Maybe. It would help if they won and someone turned the punch into wine, really….

As for now…he would have liked one last really exciting game, the madness and energy of the show, but Clark didn’t like being left alone and Leonidas didn’t like the thought of one moment making the difference between winning or losing. This was his last game, which in a real way made it Clark’s first. The team was most likely going to collapse next year anyway, but just when Leonidas had thought he was done for, Arianna had appeared. It was always possible that two flight-capable first years would join up or that an older student or two would have a change of heart, always possible that people would actually follow Clark despite his last name. It could happen, which was why this game was extremely important for both of them. The king was dying, so long live the prince.

“It’s been an honor to play with you all,” he said, and didn’t avoid looking at Clark and John and Arianna. It was Quidditch, and an important game on top of that. The usual rules didn’t count. “Let’s go get our Quidditch cup back.”

Most of the pre-game introduction went as usual, right up until he shook hands with Liliana Bannister. Leonidas was pretty sure Bannister would realize at once that she had truly surprised him with that comment – he had expected silence, boasting, or maybe even a barely-veiled threat – but he recovered quickly enough to nod. “You as well,” he said, and returned to his own team for kickoff.

Once in the air, his sentimentality largely melted away, replaced by the comfortable, familiar feelings of analysis. Clark’s search pattern was a highly successful strategy – Leonidas would not have been at all surprised to hear that Clark had actually used math to figure it out – but the trouble with patterns was that the enemy was perfectly capable of noticing them and using them against their user. That, as much as Clark’s feelings on the matter, was a reason to keep up with him. He didn’t have a hugely high opinion of the Pecari Beaters, but ‘better safe than sorry’ was the kind of thing he thought his family - well, all of it except maybe Paul...and their parents, they'd made enough of Paul's decisions for him...and Eliza did have her days, but...well, that wasn't the point – might have used as a motto if they’d been bold enough to assume one. They were going to win this. He flew carefully, half his attention on Clark’s position and movements so he could get out of the way if the Snitch appeared and half on the air around him for the near-inevitable moment when he either had to defend Clark or had a chance to hit Park.
0 <font color="blue">Captain Bennett, Beater</font> Once more to victory, Aladren. 269 <font color="blue">Captain Bennett, Beater</font> 0 5

<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>

August 12, 2016 10:27 AM
Clark was conflicted as he stood with the rest of the Aladren team on the Pitch ground. On the one hand, it was Leonidas and Theodore's last game, which was sad and unfortunate because he liked both guys despite their class politics, and the need to replace them would be a hard blow to Aladren's team. On the other hand, Clark was kind of excited to become the team captain the next year, and he kind of felt like when he became the leader it would sort of be like claiming the team back from the aristocracy. Sure there would still be purebloods on the team but with Clark and John as the oldest players and Arianna now a key member, the Aladren team was no longer a gentleman's club that only just tolerated girls and those of less than 100% magical blood being a part of it. Depending on what first years came in (and he was hoping they'd get more girls so Aladren didn't look so discriminatory) muggleborns and halfbloods might actually outnumber the purebloods for the first time since Clark joined the team.

Assuming they got two more players. His captaincy would go down as a really sad chapter in Aladren's history if he couldn't pull that off.

For today though, it was still Leonidas' show, and the two seventh years had one more game left in them.

Clark was conflicted, too, about his strategy. Five years ago, during his first year as Seeker and his second year at school (his first year had experienced a critical shortage of adults and therefore a critical lack of Quidditch), he had sat down with paper, pencil, protractor, and abacus (which he had learned to use knowing calculators wouldn't work at Sonora), and determined the most efficient pattern for searching the pitch for an elusive golden ball. He had not strayed from that pattern since his very first game as a Seeker. It had never failed him, not even once, thus making Clark, and therefore Aladren, undefeated since then.

Unfortunately, Pecari's beaters, and even Jamie, had played against him enough times now that he thought they might be catching on. The weather, too, glorious as it was, was against him, because in good weather there was nothing to distract people from noticing that he was following a predictable pattern. And predictably and bludgers did not mix well.

But back on the first hand, Leonidas was very good at what he did. He had learned Clark's pattern and he could account for the higher risk of keeping to his normal habit. If anything, being able to accurately predict Clark's location might even make it easier for Leonidas to assess threats. And, well, to be perfectly honest, Clark was becoming just a little bit superstitious that this pattern was the secret to his success and if he changed it, even a little, Jamie would win.

So when the whistle blew, Clark kicked off the ground, rose up to cruising altitude, and settled into the same cross-hatch flight plan he used every match. This was Leonidas and Theodore's last game at Sonora, so Clark wanted to follow the same script all their other matches together had used...

The one where Aladren won.
1 <font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font> Works for me 277 <font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font> 0 5

<font color="tan">Sammy Meeks, Beater</font>

August 16, 2016 1:07 AM
There was something empowering, Sammy found, about the position of Beater. Most fled from the dangerous Bludgers, but it was her job to charge them head on. She was fearless in flight, the team’s protector, the opponent’s worst enemy. When she’d taken up Quidditch, she’d never expected such a power, just choosing the position purely on the fact that one, Pecari seemed to need one, and two, bats were reminiscent of baseball. But now she had it safely in her possession, being four years in and having no plans to stop playing. She was powerful.

This was never a linear thought she had, but a feeling that breezed through her with the wind as she flew about the sky. The fifteen year old was grateful for today’s excellent weather; without the temperature as a concern, she could truly focus on the game happening all around her, sometimes with her and sometimes without. Spells and potions were great and all, but man, there was no time that she felt more magical--more alive--than on her broom.

She kept her eyes peeled, scanning for both the Bludgers and maybe the Snitch if she could swing it, and did her best not to think. Usually that was easy when she was in the air, but things were so weird lately. The whole Barnaby thing, plus that stupid letter she’d sent to Joella… Sammy kinda just felt like her whole life was in the toilet right now. Barnaby had been so strange in his letter to her that she hadn’t even written back. She didn’t know what to do. Technically she was being freed of her obligation to go to the ball with him since he’d told her some bull crap about Jax being a soviet spy--which was one hundred percent not true and also, she had a feeling, not what he’d been talking about before--but she didn’t know what to do. Gia and Jax would definitely be pissed if she went with Barnaby, but damn if he didn’t know how to manipulate her. He was using her distrust against her to trap her in, even as his letter said otherwise.

She shook the thought away as best she could. While Barnaby was not (currently) her enemy, his House was, so at least she could semi-pretend the Aladren players were all Barnabys and just hit them with things. Currently, her brown eyes found Clarnaby (that was Clark-Barnaby) swooping about in some weird… was that a pattern? It looked pretty intentional, but it didn’t make sense, or at least not to her. Sammy shrugged and decided in a bizarre and unexpected turn of events to send a Bludger at the Seeker. So original.
12 <font color="tan">Sammy Meeks, Beater</font> I have a different idea. 310 <font color="tan">Sammy Meeks, Beater</font> 0 5


<font color='tan'>Jamie Park, Seeker</font>

August 18, 2016 8:40 AM
Jamie wanted a win so bad. Sure, it was Liliana’s last game, and it would be nice for her and all that jazz, but he definitely wanted it for himself. The party had been so awesome after their last victory. People had congratulated him. Ben Pierce had been practically hanging on his every word. It had felt good. Jamie wasn’t one to admit that his life, or self, were both anything less than 100% awesome all of the time (except when other people spoilt it with drag things like homework essays) but the thing he wasn’t admitting to himself (because it meant admitting that it wasn’t true the rest of the time) was that at the after party he had felt liked. He had felt like he had friends. He would only admit to himself that it had been fun, he had enjoyed the attention, and he wanted it again.

He had a good breakfast of bacon and pancakes, being cheery, being jokey. Throwing around banter, but perhaps being a little less cocky than usual. He couldn’t help but think about the flipside to winning and being adored, which was losing and being hated. For all the team was eager to share his glory when he won, he didn’t doubt that the blame would be parked solely at his door if they lost. And everyone on the team loved Liliana so damn much, and he’d be the one that had ruined everything for her last match.

Liliana’s opening words did little to inspire him, and though she did her best to rally them all and tell them that she had complete faith or whatever, it was the opening words that stuck. They had lost every match ever against Aladren. Sure, a lot of those hadn’t been him. And he still firmly believed that if he’d been on the team earlier that Dill wouldn’t have his record winning streak. But he was starting to give Ann Pierce a bit more credit than he had before. That nerd was hard to beat.

He took to the air on the coach’s whistle, tailing Clark closely. Jamie firmly believed that Seeking involved three factors. The first two he had always believed in - raw talent and a bit of luck. The last was a new concept to him, and that was hard work. He’d been following regimes set down by one of his favourite Quidditch stars after he found out just how much work a professional Seeker put in. Maths, as far as he was concerned, had never come into it. He had never really considered that Clark might have some actual, literal winning formula. Given that he couldn’t see much evidence that the other boy worked out much, and refused to believe anyone like Clark could have a lot of raw talent, he just assumed he was a phenomenally lucky son of a witch.

Still, it didn’t really matter how Clark was winning, so much as the fact that he always was. Which meant anywhere he was going, Jamie was going to go. The Snitch couldn’t favour Clark much if Jamie was shadowing his every turn. He pulled in close, so that their sleeves were almost brushing.

“You gotta lose, sooner or later,” he glared by way of a greeting, hoping he could maybe rattle him a bit. Surely Clark had to feel like this was getting too good to be true.

He returned his eyes to the pitch, dimly aware of Leonidas Bennett hovering nearby. He didn’t doubt that the seventh year was a very, very good shot but Jamie wasn’t sure he’d risk his wonderboy Seeker just to try to knock him out of the sky. With him sticking this close to Clark, Bennett was pretty much reduced to being out for a nice stroll, unless he decided to get in on the Chaser game.

Sammy, on the other hand, seemed game for having a pop at Clark. Not that Jamie could blame her really. He decided to stick it out. Obviously Dill was the side of him nearest the Bludger. Leonidas could swoop in and save them both, Dill could swerve nice and early (leaving him plenty of time to get out of the way too), or he and Dill could play a nice little game of chicken, seeing who would break first. Dill may have been many things as a Seeker, but Jamie doubted that ‘brave’ was one of them.
13 <font color='tan'>Jamie Park, Seeker</font> I like hers better 284 <font color='tan'>Jamie Park, Seeker</font> 0 5

<font color=blue>Clark, Seeker</font>

August 18, 2016 10:55 AM
Clark glanced over when he realized he was no longer flying alone. Jamie. He suppressed a groan. One of the things he liked about being the seeker was that he normally didn't have to share his sky much, and he often took advantage of that when it came to catching the snitch. Having a head start was a key component to his success so far, and sometimes a necessity given that his broom was no longer new and it hadn't been top of the line even when it was. He kept it in excellent condition, of course, and it was well sized for him (he'd bought it extra long so he'd have room to grow with it, and now it was just about ideal for his current height, which admittedly was at least a foot taller than most professional Seekers). It didn't have the best maneuverability due to its size, but it could get up to some pretty high speeds when he pushed it and put himself into a more aerodynamic position. He was still mostly all height, so he didn't create a whole lot of air resistance when he folded himself over.

He'd experimented with which positions actually created the least drag after his lecture to the Science club on broom dynamics, and with John's help, he'd managed to shave off full seconds from his dive times.

So that at least might help if Jamie insisted on sticking so close to him, but it would be far closer than Clark really liked his catches to be. And he was talking. Clark tried to tune him out and just focus on his task of finding the snitch, but it really wasn't working. With a sigh, but not taking his eyes off the field below, Clark replied, very matter-of-factly, "The probability of remaining undefeated is staggeringly not in my favor. However, the probability for this particular match is fifty-fifty at worst, assuming no injuries and current conditions, so I am not counting me out yet."

At that moment, Sammy Meeks demonstrated that that she also had not counted him out and was in fact taking measures to change that by taking him out.

Clark's heartbeat jumped, sweat popped out of every pore he had, and his breath caught, but he was no longer a novice at this. Bludgers still frightened him, as they would any sane person, still induced a physical flight or fight shot of adrenaline to his blood that would improve his reactions, but his brain did not such down in a panic as it had the first couple of year when confronted with a black hunk of metal alien charging him down.

Clark's eyes darted about, doing some mental calculations involving vectors and probability and decided he needed to wait until ... right now.

Clark dropped the nose of his broom and accelerated into a sharp dive, not quite a Wronski Feint, given that it was pretty obvious why he was diving and it wasn't a snitch sighting, but utilizing a similar level of speed and angle of vertical descent to get him out of the bludger's neighborhood.

He'd left enough margin for error that Jamie could still make his own escape, and Leonidas was probably going to handle it anyway, but if the Aladren captain opted to re-direct it at Jamie, Clark wanted as much of a lead as he could get, and gravity would help him maximize it.
1 <font color=blue>Clark, Seeker</font> So what you're saying is that I am going *down* 277 <font color=blue>Clark, Seeker</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>

August 18, 2016 10:04 PM
He hated to do it with this guy – Park’s reputation was something Leonidas thought the first years knew about, and part of why Leonidas had returned to Seeker duty today was because he’d been a little afraid, in light of last year’s yearbook, that Liliana Bannister might have told her Beaters to count on Park provoking John into forgetting his primary mission and becoming so focused on maiming their Seeker that he neglected the defense of his own for one crucial moment – but Leonidas had to give credit where credit was due: Jamie Park was actually doing something kind of smart. Sticking to the other Seeker like glue wasn’t flashy, but it tied the Beaters’s hands and meant that when the Snitch was sighted, it would come down to a race. That made the odds a lot more even, or maybe even tipped them in Park’s favor….

At least, he thought wearily, he didn’t have to worry too much about Clark’s safety. John might have taken the chance anyway, Leonidas had never thought John was as cautious as he should be, but the Pecari Beaters had to be in awe of Clark and not at all in awe of Park. If they damaged Park themselves, making his chances even worse, their captain would put their heads on spikes later. They were….

Crack.

Leonidas saw the Meeks girl, who he had thought was too, well, female to be a threat, a second too late. One of them, at least, was completely reckless. Luckily, though, Clark seemed to be on high alert and in control of himself. He dove, clearly deliberately instead of desperately to Leonidas’ eye, and Leonidas lunged forward to smack the Bludger away from the path he thought it would naturally follow, which was his Seeker’s back. He looked over his shoulder then, and then all around, searching for Park and for any Pecari with a bat in his or her hand. He had thought the Pecaris were taking advantage of Park’s strategy to concentrate on ganging up on John, but one of them either had missed the memo, gone off script, or just done what she wanted because – well, they were Pecaris – there wasn’t really a script. Leonidas made a mental note about it. Pecari was unpredictable; the minute you assumed you knew what they were doing was the minute they’d do something else. It was both a strength and a weakness of theirs.
0 <font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font> Not the way she meant! 269 <font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font> 0 5


<font color='tan'>Jamie Park, Seeker</font>

August 20, 2016 1:40 AM
“Speak English, dork” Jamie uttered with an eye roll, as Clark gabbled on about the odds of Jamie beating him (or not). The exchange of insults, however, was cut short by the more pressing threat of the Bludger from Sammy.

Clark was cutting it fine. He definitely had more mettle than Jamie had given him credit for. In fact, the sweat was starting to bead on Jamie’s forehead. He would have liked to be diving right about now…. Sure, the Bludger might hit Clark, which would absorb a heck of a lot of impact, but he was so close that Clark would probably crash into him. And if Clark dove, did he have enough time to make the same move?

He broke before Clark did. He peeled away in case the other boy did get hit, more wanting to avoid the collision from Clark than from the Bludger. When Clark dove, Jamie followed. A split second behind (but far enough from the Bludger now for this not to matter) in order to tie himself back to Clark’s side. The Bludger having split them, he was a prime target for Bennett, as well as it being sod’s law that the Snitch would choose that moment to appear, next to Clark.

And then Leonidas was back in, protecting Clark, which - as Jamie pulled level again with the other Seeker - meant he had his back too.
13 <font color='tan'>Jamie Park, Seeker</font> I'm sticking with you 284 <font color='tan'>Jamie Park, Seeker</font> 0 5


<font color='tan'>Atlas Primred, Beater</font>

August 20, 2016 5:48 AM
At the impact Atlas froze. He felt his stomach sink in the most unpleasant way possible, sending all the blood away from his limbs. It was all his fault.

The fact that his incompetence allowed Ingrid to come to harm, even if it was just her broom, was enough to send Atlas' mind spinning. His body continued to stay in the game, trying it's best to follow and gaurd his teammates, but his mind was in chaos. Why hadn’t he been faster, more focused, more accurate. Perhaps the nostalga had gotten to him? Even so that was no excuse. He thought for a moment what he would say to Ingrid. Of course in Quidditch these things happened, but that didn't make Atlas feel any better.

He could hear the cracks of the Beaters’ bats echoing around him, but his mind was blocked, clouded with self doubt. All he could do was follow his Chasers and hope to merlin that he doesn’t mess up again. He couldn’t. He gripped his broom, trying to force himself to come back to the game, to separate his guilt from the rest of his mind. There would be plenty of time to kick himself later, but now he needed to focus. Focus, focus, FOCUS his mind pleaded. He began to feel angry. Yes, thats what he needed. A desire for redemption, and the anger to fuel it.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed between the initial incident and the present, but by the time he started paying attention again, they had already repositioned. Trying his best to keep up, he searched for a Bludger or another crack of a bat. He took this lull as a time to steady himself mentally and physically. He would be ready for the next one. It wasn’t until he saw a blue robe moving to make contact with a Bludger that Atlas’ gripped his bat firmly ready to spring into action. The crack sent a much needed shock through his nerves, still not enough to clear the reamining fog but feasible for the time being.

Following the path of Leonidas’ Bludger, he shot forward thinking quickly about where to send it. Although not really paying that much attention, he was able to remember a good portion of the field layout now that the fighting adrenaline was pumping through him again. One of the Crotalus Chasers was too close to Joella to be a safe move, so making a quick decision he decided to hit it towards one of the other Crotali Chasers. It was a little less planned a move than before, but since his best laid plans had already gone awry he may as well go with his gut. He was a Pecari after all, thinking with his gut was the only way to live. It was the only way to win. When he looked back on this game, Atlas knew that he wanted to remember doing everything in his power to succeed. Now wasn’t the time to think, it was the time to feel.
0 <font color='tan'>Atlas Primred, Beater</font> *Getcha, Getcha head in the game* 276 <font color='tan'>Atlas Primred, Beater</font> 0 5


Jamie Park

August 21, 2016 9:43 PM
Jamie saw the glint of gold and dived. He’d worked out that would have to be his strategy. No feinting, no pretending he hadn’t seen it and hoping Clark didn’t because most past evidence suggested he would. The only option would be getting the jump on him, by setting out first and by trusting his broom to win in a race.

As he closed in on the little gold ball, he shifted forward as much as he dared, hand outstretched. Normally he was the perfect build for a Seeker, being on the small and skinny side, but it could be a disadvantage here, where Clark’s height and long limbs might make up for what his broom lacked. He leant around slightly, trying to shield the Snitch, trying to use his body to block any grabs Clark might make at it with his stupid spaghetti arms.

The moment where his fingers closed around the ball was utterly surreal. It didn’t feel like it could have just happened. He forgot slightly to brake, doing so a little late and tumbling off his broom in a heap on the ground. And then he stood up, waving his hand in the air. He had done it! He had won them the championships! He couldn’t wait to get back to the dorm, for the party where he was going to be hero of the hour… For now though, there was just one word on his lips.

“PE-CA-RI, PE-CA-RI!”
13 Jamie Park I... got it?! 284 Jamie Park 0 5


Coach Grase

August 22, 2016 1:35 AM
 
0 Coach Grase Pecari wins! 180-30! Congrats! (nm) 0 Coach Grase 0 5