Letter from Oliver Wood to his friend Academeus Prune
Dear Academeus,
I hope you're well and your team is training hard. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your last game, I heard that your chasers were unbeatable and you yourself were in particularly good shape - which I don't doubt, despite that rather unfortunate accident I caused last time we played, depriving you from the use of your arms for two whole weeks, but (you have to admit) securing a brilliant victory for me and my team.
I wish I could say my team is going as well as yours - but I'm afraid this year is starting out as bad as last one. You know how House Teams are. Not that we don't have exceptionally good players, don't get me wrong - actually, if we ever had the opportunity of playing against you, I'm sure we'd beat you flat out (hmm, I'll have to talk to my team about that: I'm sure they'd be keen on taking the challenge!) - but there seems to be an unexplainable lack of enthusiasm for early morning training, which is of course the most effective in my mind.
As you know, school started three days ago, and the first practice of the season was scheduled for this morning at six o'clock. The whole team knew about it, I'd told them myself last night; and though they were quite reluctant at first, we finally decided that practice would take place at six this morning. Or did they maybe mean six this afternoon? Hmm, I have a doubt now, seeing as to how they received me this morning. Well, anyway, the point is, they were most uncooperative. I was up first, of course, I mean, I'd hardly slept during the night, I was so eager to get started again - and around five o'clock I went to wake them up, just in case they'd forgotten; didn't want to put any pressure on them, but it really was getting late, you know. Well, you can never guess what a fuss they made! I was attacked and chased out of their dormitory by my beaters' pyjamas; and to tell you the truth, I won't risk going in there early in the morning ever again, even if a victory was at stake. Then, when I went to wake up my seeker (young Harry Potter, of course - I foresee a brilliant future in Quidditch for that one!) I found the door locked from the inside. Same for my chasers, who all sleep in the same dormitory. Well, then again, maybe it's normal it was locked: it is a girl's dormitory.
So, I went back down to the Common Room and waited for them; what else could I do? I know that's very uncaptain-like behaviour, but I really didn't feel like upsetting my players, and most particularly my beaters, for our very first practice.
Finally, an hour and a half later, we were all down in the changing-room, and I of course opened the season with a short and to-the-point speech about new tactics and such. Can you believe they had the nerve to fall asleep? And when I asked them if they'd completed the training program I'd given them for the summer, they just gaped at me like I'd asked them to go fight a Hungarian Horntail. Seemed to think six hours a day and a couple hundred new moves was overdoing it. Angelina even told me they thought I was kidding when I'd given it to them at the end of last year. So I gave them a scolding - and got told off for doing so! I just couldn't believe my ears. Who's captain? Who knows best? I mean, honestly, how do they expect us to win the Quidditch House Cup if they never train at all and don't listen to my every word?
I'd really appreciate it if you could give me a few tips as to how I can handle this lot - I don't intend on letting the Cup slip through my fingers this year.
Hoping to receive an owl from you soon,
Your friend Oliver
Dear Academeus,
I hope you're well and your team is training hard. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your last game, I heard that your chasers were unbeatable and you yourself were in particularly good shape - which I don't doubt, despite that rather unfortunate accident I caused last time we played, depriving you from the use of your arms for two whole weeks, but (you have to admit) securing a brilliant victory for me and my team.
I wish I could say my team is going as well as yours - but I'm afraid this year is starting out as bad as last one. You know how House Teams are. Not that we don't have exceptionally good players, don't get me wrong - actually, if we ever had the opportunity of playing against you, I'm sure we'd beat you flat out (hmm, I'll have to talk to my team about that: I'm sure they'd be keen on taking the challenge!) - but there seems to be an unexplainable lack of enthusiasm for early morning training, which is of course the most effective in my mind.
As you know, school started three days ago, and the first practice of the season was scheduled for this morning at six o'clock. The whole team knew about it, I'd told them myself last night; and though they were quite reluctant at first, we finally decided that practice would take place at six this morning. Or did they maybe mean six this afternoon? Hmm, I have a doubt now, seeing as to how they received me this morning. Well, anyway, the point is, they were most uncooperative. I was up first, of course, I mean, I'd hardly slept during the night, I was so eager to get started again - and around five o'clock I went to wake them up, just in case they'd forgotten; didn't want to put any pressure on them, but it really was getting late, you know. Well, you can never guess what a fuss they made! I was attacked and chased out of their dormitory by my beaters' pyjamas; and to tell you the truth, I won't risk going in there early in the morning ever again, even if a victory was at stake. Then, when I went to wake up my seeker (young Harry Potter, of course - I foresee a brilliant future in Quidditch for that one!) I found the door locked from the inside. Same for my chasers, who all sleep in the same dormitory. Well, then again, maybe it's normal it was locked: it is a girl's dormitory.
So, I went back down to the Common Room and waited for them; what else could I do? I know that's very uncaptain-like behaviour, but I really didn't feel like upsetting my players, and most particularly my beaters, for our very first practice.
Finally, an hour and a half later, we were all down in the changing-room, and I of course opened the season with a short and to-the-point speech about new tactics and such. Can you believe they had the nerve to fall asleep? And when I asked them if they'd completed the training program I'd given them for the summer, they just gaped at me like I'd asked them to go fight a Hungarian Horntail. Seemed to think six hours a day and a couple hundred new moves was overdoing it. Angelina even told me they thought I was kidding when I'd given it to them at the end of last year. So I gave them a scolding - and got told off for doing so! I just couldn't believe my ears. Who's captain? Who knows best? I mean, honestly, how do they expect us to win the Quidditch House Cup if they never train at all and don't listen to my every word?
I'd really appreciate it if you could give me a few tips as to how I can handle this lot - I don't intend on letting the Cup slip through my fingers this year.
Hoping to receive an owl from you soon,
Your friend Oliver