(A/N) Hey guys, time for the latest update in the Grifball: Running Rampant saga, and with it comes some important news, hidden within the plot of the chapter. Hint, the title is a bit of an indicator! Also, hope you all saw the latest episode of Red vs Blue, and, like me, thought it was incredible. Strangely it wasn't the end that stole the show for me, but the beginning, and if you have seen it then you'll know what I mean, even if you don't necessarily agree with me! Finally looks like we're getting somewhere with the plot! Anyway, I've gone off on a bit of a tangent there! Here, without further ado, is the new chapter!

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty – New Signings

Coach Anderson

Written by NicKenny

"Sometimes talking to you is like talking to myself: pretty damned annoying." ― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

Coach Anderson walked into an empty meeting room, his team following behind him, sitting down around the table after a small gesture on his part, the coach then making his way to the head of the table and taking his own seat, his expression serious and unforgiving.

"You've beaten both Siren and Paladin now, and you have a lot to be proud of, but I don't want that getting to your heads. Neither team can even compare to what you'll be going up against when the season starts, as Alex, Will and Jackson can tell you."

He noticed the Jackson's smirk at these words, no doubt directed at his lack of belief in his female teammates, and their ability to comprehend the sort of talent that our opposition has when the league began. Then again, maybe, in this one instance, Anderson could agree with him. The girls had never faces the likes of Maverick, Castle, Majestic or Slipspace. They couldn't possibly imagine, particularly after emerging as victors in their past two games, how difficult some of their matches were going to be.

But it was his job to educate them.

"Paladin will, in all probability, be struggling in a relegation battle yet again this year. Siren consisted of a team of newly signed players from the amateur leagues, no matter if they were some of the best players those leagues had to offer. If you go up against Majestic or Slipsace, expecting to meet a similar level of opposition, you're going to be brought crashing back to earth. Hard."

He could see the amused disbelief on the faces of the three girls, each attentive and respectfully listening to him, but he could see that they didn't really believe him. How could they? They hadn't suffered a real setback in their time at Rampancy, Alex's ankle injury notwithstanding.

"I know you have trouble believing me, but I've coached at the very highest level for a good few years now, and even if you don't believe me, I hope that you'll trust me on this. You need to work hard. You all need to work harder. The next time we go up against a team like Paladin, I don't want us to just beat them; I want us to annihilate them. We need to let people know that Rampancy are a team to be feared this year."

He could see them beginning to grow restless, and reflected on how quickly a team could let a few victories, and friendly victories at that, go to their heads. With the added problem of the current divide between Alex and Jackson, the two former friends barely speaking to one another ever since Alex's injury, except when absolutely necessary, Anderson knew that they were going to be hard pressed to get a result out of the first game where they came up against decent opposition.

His next announcement wasn't going to make this task any easier.

"With the new season coming up, and the fact that we've already suffered an injury in the pre-season, no matter how minor, Mr Sadler has advised our Director of Grifball, Mr Clark Knight (I'm sure you meant him at some point when your own contracts were being negotiated), to start looking into signing two or three new players as cover in the event of injuries. However, at my urging, he looked into a small shortlist I had been compiling, going for players with enough potential to challenge you for your positions, rather than merely signing benchwarmers."

When he finally stopped speaking, there was a brief moment of silence before the table erupted all at once, outright fury on the faces of some (Jackson), confusion on the faces of the others. After waiting for the torrent of noise to abate, which it eventually did, I looked at Will, who seemed to have been the most vocal in his confusion, and nodded to him, signalling for him to voice his question.

"We already have a six-man squad," he said, a snort being issued by Jackson at the word "man", causing Will to roll his eyes in reply, and the rest of the people in the room to stiffen, their eyes narrowing. "Do we really need any more?"

The coach sighed, running his hand through his hair (what little he had at this point anyway, damn male-pattern baldness) and shook his head. "I know it's been our policy in the past to assign each player a secondary position, which they can then cover should an injury occur, but as Mr Sadler informed me, 'Grifball is changing, and Rampancy must change too if it's to keep with the times'. Apparently this is how he means to do so."

"Does this mean we're being replaced?" Kiara asked nervously from the far side of the table, her fingers tapping absent-mindedly against the table's metal surface, clearly ill-at-ease with the news.

Anderson shook his head fervently. "Of course not! These players have all been singed from the amateur leagues, so you won't have to worry whether or not they have more experience than you. If you continue to put in the same level of tenacity and determination that you have up to this point, your places will be safe. You have to look at this positively. Since some of you were our sole players in your particular roles, this should be seen as a chance to better yourself through competition, not an attack on our part on your abilities."

There was another moments silence before Jackson finally spoke up, seeing through his coach's smoke-and-mirrors façade to the heart of the matter. "So, who are they?" he asked tiredly, knowing full well that no matter what answer Anderson had for him, it wouldn't make him happy.

"I'm sorry?" the coach replied, clearly trying to feign confusion at Jackson's question, but his face betrayed his guilt.

"Obviously, the only reason why you'd bring this to us is if they're already in talks with the club, right? After all, there's generally not a lot of paperwork to get through when signing people from the amateur leagues, which is why I assume we're doing this, right, given that the transfer window shuts in a couple of weeks," he stated quietly, his eyes staring down at the table in front of him, not looking up at the coach.

Anderson sagged slightly, sighed, and nodded slowly. "Yes, the clubs have entered talks with a few players. Three, to be exact. Sophie Rush, a Runner, Jamie Evans, a Hybrid and Jason Ayante, a Defender. All of them did pretty well in the amateur leagues last year, I'm sure some of the girls probably came across one or two of them in the past."

He could see Arika and Ellen nodding, while Kiara seemed to perk up slightly at the fact that none of the three new players played as a Tank, meaning that she shouldn't have to suffer much more competition for a place on the team. Jackson, however, looked furious, just as Anderson had known he would be.

"Another female player?" he replied, managing to keep his voice calm, but there was no hiding the rage behind it.

The coach nodded, seeing that it was wise not to mention the fact that Jamie Evans was actually a girl too, thinking that it was probably better for Jackson to take this in small pieces for the time being. "Miss Rush was one of the highest scoring runners in her division last year. She should do well at Rampancy, with Alex and Will here to learn from."

Jackson seemed to calm down slightly at this, no doubt remembering that his two male teammates both shared that position, making the likelihood of Rampancy ever having to call on Sophie Rush negligible, barring the odd substitution or friendly games. It seemed as though he had decided that he could live with that.

Anderson sighed with relief internally, although he refrained from allowing any of this show up in his features, determined not to let Jackson ruin yet another team meeting. Yet again he wondered why he hadn't requested that Jackson hand in a transfer request, he had the pull in Rampancy to get it done, and it would make his life a hell of a lot easier.

Because he had the drive, he thought to himself, going through this mental conflict for what must have been the hundredth time. Because, at the end of the day, he reminds you of how you used to have been. Alex and Will might be great players, but they don't live for each game like Jackson does. It's too early to see if any of the girls do, but it's unlikely, as players like that are one in a thousand.

Perhaps he was being foolishly sentimental, and he was fully aware that, one day, his faith in Jackson would rear up and bite him in the ass, but if he wasn't able to hold out for Jackson, then ultimately what was the point. In Jackson he saw everything he had once been, regardless of their different positions and playing styles – that didn't matter – Jackson had the drive, and the coach could no more have allowed Jackson to leave Rampancy than he would have allowed his right arm to be cut off.

"They'll be arriving for their medicals over the next few days. You are to be polite and friendly, because, like it or not, they're going to be your teammates from the foreseeable future. Half of you were in their shoes only a while back, remember how it felt. Be helpful."

With that, he motioned for the team to go, and they all go up, some grudgingly, evidently not entirely satisfied with this sudden splurge of information, having settled into the current team dynamic, and despite the whole Jackson situation, not entirely happy at having it upturned.

"Jackson, stay for a minute, I want to talk to you," he ordered, as Jackson made his way to the door, earning a brief "Oooh" from Will until it was silenced by one of Jackson's death-glares.

"Yes, Coach?" he asked, after the others had vacated the room, the now ever-present scowl settling over his face, darkening his features. "What is it?"

"I need you to try to be a leader to these new players, ok? This is your chance to start off with a clean slate, and maybe it won't be as colossal a fuck-up as it was with Ellen, Arika and Kiara," Anderson replied, frowning.

"I'll do better, Coach, I promise," Jackson replied after a moment, but his coach was taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, until he continued on. "I'll just be one-third as bad."

With that he turned and left the room, and the coach was forced to sigh, take a seat and place his head in his hands, wondering what on earth he had done to deserve this in his previous life. He just hoped the new signings would be able to adapt to Rampancy's atmosphere. Maybe a miracle would occur, and Jackson would finally cease being such a tremendous pain in the ass, but then again, maybe pigs would fly, and he'd be able to go back in time and become a Grifball pundit, instead of a coach. Those guys had it so much better.

God, the shit he went through for this sport.