Part I
xxx
A/N: A John Plays FIFA/Doctor Who crossover. What have I done. I accidentally wrote this, even though I'm terrible at writing fiction. If the dialogue feels awkward in parts, it's because I lifted it straight from the videos (also I'm a bad writer). Anywayyy...enjoy 3
Disclaimers: this is unbeta'd and I made absolutely no attempt at writing in British English. And this should go without saying, but Manager John Green is a character and not intended to be an accurate representation of author and vlogger John Green.
Teaser: "John, John and I aren't human."
xxx
"Those were some great goals you scored, John!"
The Swoodilypoopers were coming into the locker room after the playoff game against Reading. They'd been stuck at a 1 – 1 tie right up until the 90th minute, when Other John Green kicked the ball into the back of the net.
"Thanks, Andy, but it was definitely a team effort," answered John, smiling. "I couldn't have scored that second goal without your help. Not to mention Lee's brilliant assist on the first one!" The other Swoodilypoopers agreed, thumping their strikers on the back.
"You know, I used to be jealous of your ability to score more than occasionally, but it's worth it just to see your celebrations. The 'robot' never gets old!" said Leeroy.
"I like it when you score, Lee, because then Manager John won't stop singing that song about you," Wes taunted. Leeroy threw his sweaty jersey at him.
"At least I'm not nicknamed after both a Star Trek character and a children's book…"
"Come on boys, let's get cleaned up quick so we can go celebrate at The Giraffe's Head!" interrupted Ginger Rampage. "Championship Final, here we come! First round's on me!" This was met with cheers from everyone (other than Maric, who just grinned).
The excitement was interrupted by Manager John stepping into the locker room. One by one, the players grew quiet as they noticed him. Usually, John was loud and ecstatic after a win. He would sing songs and make up cheers for the guys who played particularly well. But today, John was standing still—head hung, shoulders slumped, and completely silent. Even puff levels were unprecedentedly high.
"Um, coach?" Lee said tentatively, stepping towards him. "You all right?"
Manager John took a deep breath, opened his mouth as if to speak, then sighed and shook his head.
"Look, there's something wrong. Just tell us what happened." Other John's voice was gentle, but firm. Manager John somberly looked up at all of the players.
"All right then. I guess now's a good a time to tell you as any. I had a meeting with the owner of the team, and, uh, I'm uh…well, I've got some news."
The squad exchanged puzzled looks. What could he be talking about?
"It's been decided that regardless of the outcome of our next match, I will not be manager of the Swindon Town Swoodilypoopers next season." Surprised gasps and cries of dismay filled the locker room.
"What the heck!" exclaimed Mionel. "They can't kick you out! We just won a game!"
"Doesn't matter. I'm fired. I'm—I'm—" Manager John blinked away tears. "I'm gone after next week."
"We can't allow this," Ginger said angrily, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, you're the only manager who's never made fun of my hair!" said Andy. Several other players frowned at him. "Oh, and you're great at coaching, too."
"Look, that's football. Coaches come and go. Not much I can do." John sighed. "Just promise me that you'll do your best at the next game." Everyone agreed solemnly.
"Come The Giraffe's Head with us," offered Groberts. "Ginger's buying. Let's drink away the pain!"
"Nah, I need to pack my stuff and get home to my family. But thanks." Manager John turned and left the locker room. Immediately, the Swoodilypoopers began speculating as to the reason for John's departure—all except Other John and Lee. They exchanged knowing glances, knowing what they had to do.
xxx
Manager John was packing up folders and books in his office.
"I never realized how much crap I've been keeping in here," he said to himself. "Especially considering that this isn't even my universe." His musings were interrupted by a knock.
"Come in!"
The door opened to reveal Other John Green and Leeroy Williamson. They were showered and changed, but still wore the same concerned expressions as before.
"Oh, hello boys," said Manager John. "Nice to see you; sit down." Other John and Lee stepped in and sat in the chairs opposite their coach's desk.
"Coach, I think you know why we're here—" began Other John.
"Congratulations on your goals today," interrupted Manager John. "I'm impressed by your ability to get the ball in the back of the net 10 times out of 10." Other John raised his eyebrows. "OK, yes, I know why you're here," conceded Manager John, sighing heavily.
"Look, if it were any other coach, we wouldn't be so surprised," said Leeroy. "This sort of thing happens sometimes. But our situation is…" He frowned, trying to think of the right way to frame his thoughts.
"…special," continued Other John. "A few months ago, you told us about how we're in a reality separate from yours. You've shown us YouTube videos of a Swindon Town from another universe. We traveled to this universe in a TARDIS from an earlier version of FIFA, for crying out loud! This shouldn't be happening!"
"I play FIFA all the time," added Leeroy. "You really have to put in some effort to get fired."
"I know, I know," said Manager John. "It's just—look, things aren't as straightforward as they seem."
"What do you mean?" asked Leeroy.
"Well for one thing, the owner thinks it's my fault Bald John left."
Other John's face darkened.
"That decision had nothing to do with your skills as a manager! John and I need to invest in our future, and he just couldn't pass up the opportunity. We have to think of our family!"
"Doesn't matter—I'm still getting the blame for it," answered Manager John. "And there are other things…you may have noticed that we have quite a few players in this universe's Swindon that were also on the previous squad."
"Yeah, Maric and Fitz and Ginger!" Lee interrupted excitedly. "And Beefstock's cousin Bostock. It's been fun having them back on the team, even though they don't remember the great times we had back in FIFA 11."
"Well, it's been pretty expensive trying to get them back," sighed Manager John. "Between that and buying as many gingers and players with cool names as possible, I've kind of used up most of the team's budget for the year. I just wish I'd listened to you and your husband, John."
"Yeah, that was an awkward argument Bald John and I had with you, remember? We hated to be mean, but you'd been acting so weird and we didn't want something like this to happen."
"Yes, yes, I remember."
"What?" Leeroy looked shocked at the idea of the Johns fighting.
"The Johns confronted me about my coaching style this season and I took it pretty badly. But looking back, not only did they mean well, they were right."
"Your actions have gotten more and more eccentric, to be honest," Leeroy admitted. "Like, no offense to Dawson and Bedwell, but I was surprised to see that you worked so hard to acquire them…" Leeroy trailed off.
"Yeah, I did not get them for the skill level. They're like, a 54 and a 45. I just couldn't resist Dawson's hair and Bedwell's name!"
Leeroy guffawed.
"You put in all that money and effort for a 54 and a 45? You are bad at FIFA!" Other John glared at Leeroy, who immediately stopped laughing.
"Thanks," said Manager John sarcastically.
"It's true, though," said Other John. "To be completely honest, it's ridiculous when you start players just because of the color of their hair and say it's because they have heart. Or choose to play old Swoodilypoopers because you hate change, not because they're actually good. Change is inevitable, John. I understand your resistance, but you still made a lot of mistakes."
"Well, the club owner certainly didn't understand me," answered Manager John, shrugging.
"You were trying to put the previous lineup together and get back the good old days," said Other John kindly. "I get it. But this is a different world, a different team. You'll never have the old Swoodilypoopers back."
"I know. I didn't act in the best interest of the club, and now I feel really bad about that. I just got so caught up in the narrative and in recreating the past…" Manager John picked up his framed picture of the FIFA 11 Swoodilypoopers' celebratory FA cup pose, smiling sadly.
"Could've been worse though—at least you didn't end up shot dead in a swimming pool," quipped Other John.
"Huh?" Leeroy looked confused.
"Look," Manager John said with finality. "I'm going to be OK. I've got lots of other things going on. I'm not just defined by this job. I'm a novelist. I make vlogbrothers videos. I'm an amateur historian on Crash Course. So, there's a lot of different things I can do; this is not the end for me."
"But what about us? And what about the fans?" cried Leeroy. "Before you and Other John and Bald John joined the Swoodilypoopers, our team lacked heart! You three led us to glory for years, from the bottom of League Two to winning the FA Cup! You've made some bad decisions in this universe, but you can't just give up now!"
"No. Getting fired has made me realize that I should've left long ago. I shouldn't have even tried to coach the Swoodilypoopers in this universe." Taking a deep breath, Manager John continued. "You boys are better off without me and my stupid songs." He hung his head in shame. Other John reached across the desk and took Manager John's hand in his.
"Maybe what you need is to start over," he said. "Bald John has been telling me about AFC Wimbledon and the situation there." At this, Manager John looked up.
"I've heard very good things about them," he said. "Their history is fascinating and their fans are great. And any team with a Womble as a mascot has my support."
"Exactly," said Other John. "Bald John loves it there. He says they've got heart, which I know is a quality you value. What if you got a fresh start coaching a new team?"
"Hmm, I don't know…" Manager John said doubtfully, shaking his head. "Why would anyone want me now?"
"You've told us how, in your universe, there are many fans of our team, even though they can only watch us on YouTube, and how people who weren't interested in football before are now following your universe's Swindon," said Leeroy. "What if you use this new start to support Wimbledon?"
"Yeah," Other John said. "Bald John has told me that the club is always short on funds because they are owned wholly by their fans."
"Hmm," mused Manager John. "So I could use the FIFA 14 AFC Wimbledon team to drum up support for the real-life—I mean, alternate universe—AFC Wimbledon. The nerdfighters would love that team!"
"The what-fighters?" asked Leeroy.
"All ad revenue can go to sponsoring the actual AFC Wimbledon team! We can have billboards in the stadium, and ads in the program, all designed by nerdfighters!" Manager John was getting excited.
"Uh, coach…" said Other John.
"We can help this team that mirrors the values of Nerdfighteria stay in the football leagues so I can play with them in FIFA 15 and FIFA 16 and beyond!"
Leeroy and Other John smiled as Manager John got lost in his new dream—this was the coach they knew and loved.
"…and maybe one day we could send them to the Premier League! It's a long shot, but with heart, tenacity, and proper use of the Y button, anything is possible!" Manager John was beaming. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it."
"No problem," said Lee happily. He wasn't quite sure what John was dreaming up this time, but at least he was back to his old self.
Manager John turned to Other John.
"Do you and Bald John still have that TARDIS?"
"Yeah, of course," answered Other John. "We haven't used her in a while, and she's stuck back in that weird police box form, but she should be working fine."
"Perfect! Pack your bags, boys. Next week, we're going to FIFA 14!"
xxx
"Ugh, I never imagined my career ending like this." Despite their resolve to win big for their last game with John as their manager, the Swoodilypoopers suffered a humiliating loss at the hands of Southampton. John's head hit the desk. "Ow! Dammit!"
"Um, coach? You OK?" A beautiful bald head peeked through the door to the former coach's office. John looked up and immediately jumped from his chair.
"Bald John Green!" he cried, embracing the taller man. "It's so good to see you! Come in! Ooo, I love the goatee!"
"Thanks, John! It's a bit of an experiment—I still don't know how I feel about it." Bald John walked into the office, followed by Leeroy.
"How's AFC Wimbledon?" Manager John asked.
"Well, if all goes right, you'll find out soon," answered Bald John.
"And where's your better half? Don't tell me he's gotten cold feet," said Manager John.
"Don't worry—he went home to get the TARDIS. He should be back here any minute." There was a brief pause, then Leeroy spoke up.
"Coach, I just want to say sorry from the whole team for our performance today. I know you wanted to go out with a win, and—"
"It's OK," Manager John interrupted. "You boys tried, and that's what matters. And who knows, maybe the next coach will lead this Swindon Town to victory, and that's what matters. I just wish I could keep up on how this team is doing once I'm gone."
"Well, I can keep you updated," Leeroy said.
"What? You're not coming?" Manager John was shocked.
"That's right. It'll just be John and I moving to AFC Wimbledon," said Bald John.
"I'm human, which means I can't safely make the journey between worlds." Leeroy shrugged, trying to hide his disappointment. "I'm only here to say goodbye."
"But you managed to move between FIFA 11 and FIFA 13 just fine! And what do you mean, 'human?' Bald John and Other John are human, too!"
Bald John rolled his eyes. "John, John and I aren't human."
"What?"
"Um, coach, the Johns are Time Lords," Leeroy answered. "Even I know that."
"Where did you think we got a TARDIS?" asked Bald John. "Speak of the devil…" Vworping filled the room as a police box slowly appeared in a corner.
"Wait, wait, I have questions—most importantly, how are your skill levels not over 100 if you're superhuman?"
The door to the TARDIS opened and Other John popped out.
"John, are you ready to go?"
Bald John held up a duffel bag.
Manager John turned to Leeroy.
"I still don't understand why you can't come too. We need you on the team!"
"It turns out that the last trip took a heavy toll on my timeline and Reapers will get me if I do it again, or something like that. It's too risky for me to go to a parallel so soon. I don't really understand how it works." Leeroy blinked back a tear. "It's all…how did you describe it?" He turned to Bald John and Other John.
"Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey," they answered in unison.
"We'll miss you, Leeroy, but it's good to know we're leaving the Swoodilypoopers in good hands," said Other John, patting his ex-teammate on the back.
"No. No! He has to come with us—" Manager John stopped himself. "No. I have to let go of the past. Leeroy, take care of the Swoodilypoopers. My blood will always be Swindon-red and I'll miss you all," Manager John said.
Leeroy nodded emphatically. "I better go before I really start crying—" his voice broke. "We've had some good years." He shook Manager John's hand then left the office. Bald John turned to Manager John.
"John, we're good, right? Last time we saw each other, I was a bit…harsh."
"John, we're more than good. We're great," answered Manager John. "I've even decided that I'm taking my favorite strikers' advice and embracing change. I guess I'll see you on the other side, then."
"Can't wait," Other John said, winking. "See you soon!"
Manager John watched as the husbands entered the TARDIS. A few moments after the door closed, the police box faded away.
"Hmm, wibbly-wobbly, Wimbledon Wombles…" John thought for a moment. "Wimbly Womblys. I like it."