The Diego Diaries: HOOPS! (dd6 550)
Haka: The haka is a ceremonial dance or challenge in Māori culture. It is a posture dance performed by a group, with vigorous movements and stamping of the feet with rhythmically shouted accompaniment.
(They usually stand up straight but can kneel. The flashing of your tongue is part of it and its AWESOME. I was motivated by the New Zealand All Blacks rugby team who performs a haka before every game to include them for football and now this game. They can be done to welcome someone home, at a funeral or wedding or the like. I find them beautiful and I like that the warrior culture of the bots has something like it, too. Google haka and see for yourself what the bots do before football and now basketball games.) Thank you, Māori people, for your amazing genius and graceful beauty.
=0= Game
They lined up and followed Prime out. The anthems were playing in the arena and the sound of nearly 100,000 voices singing them was muted by the tunnel they waited in. Somewhere behind them was the team from Tarn. Prime was given pride of place to lead out Iacon for the first ever basketball game by bots. The other games would be staggered at end to end intervals for Jazz and company to broadcast and do commentary and color for all of them. They reached the door, then waited as the recording died down. Then the announcement came. "Ladies and gentlemen, make welcome the IACON INVADERS!"
Optimus glanced back at the team with a slight grin. He nodded and they nodded back. It was just like the old orns when they would play another group of kids in a vacant lot in the Jumble. He then jogged out into the light followed by the team to make a line before their bench.
The place lost its shit.
=0=Moments earlier in line to get inside
Prowl was reading his data pad searching for something to calm his nerves. Ratchet was standing behind him with a bag over his arm and a grin on his face. They walked together to meet the families at the Primal box where all the children were as well. Inching in, they passed the turn stiles and entered with the masses toward the middle door where their arena was. When the magic numbers were reached the turn stiles would lock and everyone else had to go to the monitors filling the lobby and watch their game there. The place had a 300,000 capacity at court side when all three arenas were full and in use.
Reaching the Primal box, Prowl stared over the side to the arena floor 70 feet below and then around the room where the tiered seating went up 300 feet. It was filled, everyone was HYPED and the game was set to be a winner.
Even if it wasn't.
Ratchet on the other hand was rummaging through his bag pulling out 'cheer stuff' for himself. His family watched him with a variation of loathing and hilarity as he began to assemble himself as an Iacon BAG. He pulled out orange and white pom poms, really fluffy ones and tied to them to his wrists. Every movement of a hand was going to be fluffy and flourish-y. Next, he pulled out a necklace with a HUGE diamond studded medallion with the glyph for the 'I' of Iacon and put it around his neck. It resembled the clock that the rapper Flavor Flav made his trademark. Completing his gangstah outfit was a cap that fastened under his chin with velcro. On top of it was the glyph again for the 'I' of Iacon standing up like a middle finger to the world. He then pulled out big cymbals and began to happily crash them together.
The sound startled Prowl. He gripped the wall in surprise, then turned toward Ratchet freezing in place. Smiling like a mad man, Ratchet was crashing the symbols together in time to the chants going around the vast space. When he ended up on the overhead monitors which faced all the directions of the arena with images of himself, the place went nuts. Prowl grabbed the cymbals, staring at Ratchet with daggers.
Ratchet turned to his bag and pulled out an air horn cutting loose with it before a slap fest ensued with Prowl. Losing that implement to the incredulous winger beside him, he reached in and pulled out a big tambourine. Banging it against his hand for some of that old time religion, it too joined Prowl's musical collection. Before he could grab out anything else, Ravel snagged his bag and stuffed it into Appa Ratchet's carry hold before he fell down from laughing.
=0=In the booth overhead nearby
"Oh, Primus … Ratchet!" Revel said before he fell into long and protracted laughter.
Jazz who was howling nodded. "Nothing like an Iacon home boy."
=0=M.C.A. sports teammate
"BWAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAHAAHAHAHAAAAAA!"
=0=In the here and now
Prime and team lined up as Arcee planted their banner in its holder at the back of their bench area. Joining the team, they began to do their war dance, their haka. Prime called out and they answered, taking their stance half crouched and furious appearing. The haka in play was one that they used as kids in the ghetto calling out the other team. Prime called, the others stomped and punched the air as the crowd called to them in response.
Stomp, punch, call out in unison, the entire thing lasted a moment or two but it rang out to the rafters. Many were the Iaconians present who knew what that meant and many were those of other teams as well since this was common among the 'warring camps' of poor kids. What the high castes thought wasn't clear. They didn't have hakas and other ceremonials among their kind. What it did was whip the crowd to a frenzy. Then it ended and they stood poised in line waiting as Tarn began to walk out.
Grimlock led them, that Simfur home boy and behind him followed several monster trucks, Swoop, three other big players and then Omega and Xantium Supreme in pretender gear. They walked out with smirks on their faces, then formed their lines to mock Prime and his team back. The room crackled with energy as the big mechs began. They stomped and cried out, repeating the calls that Xantium made as they inched ever closer across the floor. When they were nearly nose tip to nose tip with Iacon, they halted and it was dead silent.
Grimlock stood before Prime and the others before his team. No one had shown emotion and no one had moved. This was mental and it was about pride. They had faced this before growing up hard scrabble and they had seldom lost. They had also never moved an inch when a team challenged them this way. Grimlock smirked. "Best team wins."
Prime nodded slightly. "Best team wins," he said with uncharacteristic heat.
Grimlock and company stepped back, then walked to their bench across the vast floor. They made a line, then the president of the league, Domino walked out with a greeting. "Welcome to the first game of the Cybertronian Basketball League playing for the Martian Cup Championship of the Empire!"
BEDLAM!
=0=M.C.A. sportscasters
They were off the feed now pending the halftime and as they watched they chatted among themselves.
"I'd need adult diapers if that monster did that to me," Dan Patrick said.
Bob Costas nodded. "Prime didn't flinch. None of them did. This is going to be epic."
Everyone nodded. Then Domino continued.
=0=On the deck
"We are delighted to have the Iacon Invaders play the Tarn Tornadoes tonight and without further ado, let the games begin!" he said before walking off the floor. The refs had been introduced on the monitors and they walked in with the ball as the teams walked off but for the starting line up. It was as follows …
Tarn
Forwards and center: Xantium, Grimlock and Omega
Defense: Collier of Tarn and Blight of Slaughter City
Goalie: Rumple of Kaon
Iacon
Forwards and Center: Chromia, Prime and Raptor
Defense: Hard Drive and Jetta
Goalie: Ironhide
The referee who was no small mech looked like a twig as he stood between Grimlock and Prime who were centers for their teams. He was going to throw the ball up and the centers would jump to grab it. Whoever did, the game was on. Both big mechs crouched slightly, Prowl unconsciously imitating Prime in the stands, then the ball was tossed up high, way high.
Prime and Grimlock launched themselves straight up and pawed for it with Prime gripping it first. He landed, then spun and shot the ball to Hardie. He then pivoted and ran backward toward the goal in a play they had practiced to perfection. That is, they had without Man Mountain Deans everywhere with their grabby servos. Hardie shot the ball to Chromia who passed it to Prime. He grabbed it, hip bumped the goalie out of the goal zone and dropped the ball inside. He landed lightly and turned to see the ball drop through.
Bedlam.
Stomping.
Cheering.
Pom poms and yelling.
It was huge the pleasure that filled the room and as Prime glanced around he was elated with the happiness of the people watching. Moving back, he watched as Xantium took the ball in their end zone to put it back into play. He bounced it with an expression of blood lust as he passed it to Omega who turned to run toward the Iacon goal.
Ironhide braced for him. He had to stay inside the free throw and penalty box lines. Stepping out of it would be a penalty for the team. He set himself as the big mech bounced toward him with surprising speed and dexterity. He would have made it past the center line if Chromia hadn't stolen the ball from him. He continued, then stared at his empty hand. Turning to chase Chromia, the dance was on. It seemed to the newbies watching that the chasing around didn't have a point but it did.
Chromia passed the ball to Hardie who dribbled around Xantium to pass it to Raptor. Raptor caught it and passed it hard to Prime. He was being tailed by Collier and Blight. They expected him to shoot so he did … between the legs of Collier to Chromia who caught it, leaped like a gazelle and drilled the net. Landing lightly, she grinned with bemused battle lust as she jogged back to her spot.
Maelstrom nearly fell over the ledge in the stands in his joy at the goddess of his every waking moment showed her quality.
Iacon 2 hoops for 10 points, Tarn 0.
Huge chanting broke out as "TARN!TARN!TARN!" warred with "IACON!IACON!IACON!" in the stands. The usual beatings and hoo-haw were ever present as Ratchet warred with his ada to get his cymbals back. It delighted him to embarrass Prowl who was just TOO MUCH invested in Prime's success. Ratchet knew from the old days that Prime aka The Beast and his squad were up to the challenge. He wasn't worried. That freed him up to frag with Prowl. He was beginning to really like basketball, Our Ratchet.
Prowl was jumping up and down pounding on everyone including Ratchet. "DID YOU SEE THAT!? OPTIMUS IS A WINNER! HE'S *THE* WINNER! REMEMBER THAT! OPTIMUS PRIME IS THE MECH!"
Tarn had a brief chat, then the ball was put into play at the end line of their hoop. Omega dribbled in and passed to Grimlock. He ran forward to ram Ironhide and dunk the ball. Ironhide braced himself as the big mech shouldered him hard. Ironhide flew outward and hit the far wall as Grimlock stumbled, then dunked the ball as Iacon converged upon him like alien predators. He staggered, then rubbed his arm. Ironhide on the other hand was sliding down the wall like a bug on a windshield.
Ratchet glancing over the edge grinned. "Oh-oh," he said as he removed his medallion and hat. He jumped onto the ledge, spread his arms wide and leaped off. Flipping as he fell, he landed lightly and ran to Ironhide. The place exploded in laughter and applause as he knelt. "You alright, Old Mech?" he asked as he ran scans. Apparently, Ironhide was as he stood and shook his helm. "How many digits?" Ratchet asked as he held up three.
"Several thousand?" Ironhide asked with a chuckle.
Raptor slapped his shoulder. "Toughen up, infant. Time's a-wasting."
Ratchet chuckled as he walked to Grimlock. Scanning him, he looked upward at the big mech as his team gathered around. "You have a dented arm strut. Easy fix."
"How fast?" Grimlock asked.
"Seconds," Ratchet said. "Follow me," he said as he walked to a tunnel.
Grimlock handed off leadership to Xantium then followed as the crowd went nuts.
Entering the tunnel where Drift and Springer stood admiring the show with the kids from football attending them with worshipful optics, Ratchet began to patch Grimlock's dented internal arm strut. "You should know better than to body slam a Praxian. They're built like tanks."
"Tarn is going to win."
"I figured you for Simfur. Home town and all," Ratchet said as he finished up.
"Tarn has more power players. I want to win," Grimlock said as he flexed his arm. "Prime is going to lose."
"If you say so," Ratchet said with a dazzling smile.
Grimlock smirked at him, then walked back out to great acclaim.
Drift glanced at the figure leaving, then Ratchet. "I love your hat."
"I wore it just for you," Ratchet said as they burst into loud and raucous laughter. He walked back to the staircase for the climb back to his seat. He would find all of his 'cheer stuff' gone when he did.
Ravel strikes again.
TBC 12-20-18 edited 12-22-18