This story takes place prior to season one.
It was also written to try and kickstart a series I want to write about individual Beyblading teams just hanging out, having fun, and possibly doing non-Beyblade related stuff in their free time, but this probably isn't the best beginning for it...
The All Starz were, despite their obvious differences and oft clashing personalities, a team dependent on coordination. America was a big country – and a country big on competition, and that made it easier to go from VIP to bench warmer than it was to confuse your opponent's outfield with a well-timed bunt or defeat them with a perfect drop shot in tennis.
Sometimes that involved assisting one another with AP homework (the institute expected only the best from each of them, and, as was the case with all sports teams in the 'States, expected C's or better if they wanted to keep playing). At other times, it was spotting at the gym, covering for a teammate when someone was late to an important meeting, or – in some cases, protecting Emily from bullies whenever her shrimpy size and arrogance made her too easy of a target.
Today involved none of those things, the things that all of them thought of whenever the word "teamwork" and "Beyblade" appeared in the same sentence.
"So we can all move our blades in sync now," Emily spoke up, interrupting the profound, contemplative silence. "...So what?"
"I think they were just running out of drills for us to do," Steve replied, agreeing without really agreeing. "We're Beybladers, not synchronized swimmers – Beyblading is pretty much an individual sport."
"Good thing too. No one would pay money to watch you performing in a speedo."
"Tch, shut up, man."
He became the first to break formation, all of their blades spinning in a perfectly straight line an equal distance apart, by calling his Beyblade back to his hand. The remaining three blades were surrounded by a symmetrical field of rubble and destroyed targets. If not for their current director's assistance that they train together, it could've easily been divided into four quadrants.
Eddy and Michael followed suit just after Emily, who happened to be a second faster, both of them muttering their own comments about basketball and baseball being team sports. As if that would somehow put things into perspective.
"Beyblade matches are usually fought individually though," Emily pointed out.
If anyone believed that teamwork in Beyblading was a waste of time more than Steve did, it was her. She still had a tendency to complain about her teammates loudly, at every available opportunity. Weirdly enough, Emily got along a lot better with all of them whenever they weren't Beyblading.
Michael yawned, stretching his arms above his head even though he wasn't that tired. Coming from him it looked more like – and probably was – an act of deliberate arrogance. "I bet it's sort of like baseball. When you're on the pitcher's mound, the whole game pretty much revolves around you and the guy up at bat, but the rest of the team is still important too. Because, you know, they gotta sport you in case you mess up..." He smirked. "Not that I ever mess up."
"That makes sense," Eddy replied, even though he sort of didn't look wholly convinced. "but..."
"Do you have to act like you're better than us all the time?" Steved chimed in, lending his voice to what had probably really been on the basketball player's mind. "The three of us are top athletes too, y'know!"
"We'll tell the cafeteria ladies they need to give you an extra slice of humble pie for dessert at lunch today," Eddy threatened sarcastically, to which Michael scoffed.
"What good is being humble when everyone else already knows I'm the best anyway?"
"You keep telling yourself that, but remember who it is that always fixes your Beyblade for you," Emily quipped.
They'd used to make fun of her by calling her a nerd, but it hadn't taken them long to realize how useful having an on-field mechanic could be during tournaments. The idea for the unique launchers that played to their individual strength's had been her original idea, and she'd demonstrated with the tennis racket prototype she'd developed for herself the day she'd joined the All Starz.
Now she was pretty much considered the most essential part of the team. Maybe not the strongest, since Michael and Steve in particular refused to recognize anyone as a stronger blader than themselves, but they recognized Emily's importance.
"At any rate, it's not like these teamwork drills actually matter," she continued, "when we have the cutting edge technology that makes us all top Beybladers individually."
The introduction of a new director – and a scientist to boot – had put her in a good mood lately. Judy made it clear from her first day on the job that she prioritized hyper-advanced technology and extensive data logging over teamwork, and since Judy also let her assist her with experiments, she'd pretty much become Emily's hero overnight.
And, as a solos tennis player, she had even less experience with being on a team than the rest of the All Starz. So even without the two degrees in major science related fields, Emily probably would've agreed with everything Judy said.
Soon the old director would be demoted or maybe even fired outright, and that would be the end of all these silly group drills. Emily would still be willing to help the boys with their math homework or an extensive Beyblade check up, and it was nice having someone taller around to get tools and equipment off shelves, sometimes. The team would stay in working order without the risk or need to worry about any last second replacements or unfortunate dropouts, but the amount of training she'd be forced to do would be drastically decreased, and she could put that regained time into more useful pursuits. Emily was certain her teammates felt the same way.
The All Starz may have learned how to coordinate, but they had not yet realized the importance of teamwork.
You got baseball and tennis analogies at the beginning because I don't know anything about American football or basketball.