The Diego Diaries: FOOTBALL! 2 (563) edited
I put this note in the last piece and include it here now so that you can know what the thing is here... NOTE: My writing program has decided to become autocorrect and I try and find all the changes. WHINE! I will look for another program though I LOVE this one, opensource writing. Hugs for the long suffering reading I know you do with this. -Me :D
Here we go... WHO! WHO! WHO LET THE TARGS OUT!
-0-Footie
"OTHER ADA!"
"Orion."
"Where Ada?" Bright little blue optics looked at his Grandada intently. Sitting on Ravie's arm, he had clapped along with everyone else and yelled his usual "ADA! GOOD ME, ORION! I LOVE THIS! THIS GOOD! I GOOD TOO! YOU GOOD, OTHER ADA? I GOOD TOO! GO ME HERE! I LOVE YOU!"
Between laughing at the little baby and feeling the great sense of joy the moment was coaxing, Ravel hugged Orion tightly. "You are wonderful, infant. Ada is nearby. You get to be my baby for a while. Okay?"
Orion looked at him with a giant smile. "Hi," he said in his comically breathy way. He got serious kisses and hugs from his Other Ada. All was well in his world.
Mostly.
-0-On the air, MCA and IntraCom
"The two teams have taken the field. They are up to peak fitness, all of them passing their physicals. They are stoked and ready to play. I see them as rather serious looking today don't you, Tom?"
"I agree. They both have a lot of emotions invested in this game. The honor of their city-states and cities is at stake. By the way, Jazz just alerted me that the mech crossing the field is named Springer. He's been seen before on security details with Ambassador Ratchet when he comes to Earth. Apparently, he is head of planetary security, the Night and Day Watch police force as well as being chief of their crack special ops, covert last ditch army unit, the Wreckers. He's been organizing in-stadium security for both stadiums. You remember the half time show during the last game?"
"Who can forget it? Sports Illustrated gave it a cover. It is in the running for greatest sports moment of 2013 by the Sports Writers of America," Tom said with a grin. "I am still laughing somewhere inside my head even now."
"You and me both," Bob Osborn said with a chuckle. "What is the word on how Kaon will contain Blurr or have you heard?"
"Well, Tom, this is what I was told," Bob said and they chatted waiting for kick off when they would turn it over to Blaster and Jazz as per the agreement. No one cared. Those two not only were experts on their game, they were incredibly funny and outspoken. If someone fragged up they said so. Gleefully.
-0-On the field
The defensive and offensive lines of two teams walked out, the size differential between them comically obvious. Kaon was the smaller set of mechanisms but nothing in their demeanor showed a lack of confidence in doing the game they came to play. Even with Blurr standing in the backfield ready to take a handoff and run faster than the camera optic could follow, they were ready to blast his aft into the ozone. That was step one. Blast Blurr into the ozone.
The referees consulted, then one stood on the middle line. He looked at all the players, then threw the three hundred pound ball toward the center of the Praxian line. The center caught it and was able to turn to pass it to Blurr before getting blammed. Blurr caught it, shifted into WTF gear and ran right to go around the lines to the goalie, Bracket who stood grim faced and ready in the end zone nearby. As he did the entire line of Kaon shifted.
They leaped into the air an impossible distance given gravity and all sorts of science-y stuff, then turned and rushed right too. Blurr who was now theoretically in WTF drive tried to pivot but it was no use. Five of the seven players closest to his aft leaped in the air and body slammed his butt into the ground. It was like stacking pancakes on a green plate how they fell one after the other onto the lanky but suddenly prostrate blue streak.
It would be an awesome replay on the jumbotron.
"Wow. That hurt," Jazz said as he laughed madly.
Blaster who was laughing too nodded. "I would hate to be his superstructure. That was what? Seven or eight tons of pure malice landing on his aft?"
"I think so," Jazz said. "It was bound to happen. Poor fragger is too fast for his own good."
"Most of the time. This? Not so much," Blaster said with a grin.
-0-Sports bar in California
"WHAT THE FUCK!? I HAVE A GRAND ON THIS TEAM!? HOW COULD THEIR FASTEST PLAYER GET PANCAKED LIKE THAT?" -man A, plotzing
"SERVES YOU RIGHT, A-HOLE! KAON IS GOING TO WIPE UP THE FLOOR WITH YOUR TEAM! YOU PUT A GRAND DOWN ON SCIENTISTS AND NERDS! YOU DESERVE TO LOSE!" -man B and C
-0-Home, nice family
"Ow. That looked like it hurt, Grandma," Little Pastor Bob said looking at his sweet grandma with adoration and surprise. He gripped his ipad with the Autobot football website data and his grandma's blog, 'Kickoff with Annie' which had her own evaluation of the game, one followed by over 800,000 readers online. "What does this do to the game?"
Everyone looked from their ipads and the teevee to their little sweet mother/grandmother/wife. "I don't think it changes much yet. If Blurr isn't out, he's just going to be slower. It will be that he joins his team in their biggest handicap. Praxus has a size advantage at the expense of speed," she said as she live blogged her assessment. "Time will tell, Bobby. Just don't count Praxus out yet."
They all turned back to the teevee. Mama Annie continued to put her thoughts down in real time to the ever growing readership of this, the single most popular Cybertronian football blog and writer on Earth.
She grinned. Papa Leonard did too. All was well.
-0-On the ground
Blurr sped along, then the sun began to blot out. Glancing up, he saw the gleeful face and descending fists of several of Kaon's (more cavalier) Kavaliers. He sped up but it was to no avail. They fell on him one at a time until he disappeared. They took their slagging sweet time getting up too even though the refs were tweeting their whistles, waving their arms, kicking the slower risers and swearing.
That is, they were endearing themselves like referees the world(s) over.
Blurr lay face down on the ground, his body nearly pressed into the (fake) grass in a blurry shape. First Aid running forward with medikit in servo, his little horn blaring, a single light flashing paused, then knelt. "Blurr. Speak to me."
It was silent a moment, then a soft sound could be heard. First Aid who had been joined by Goldwing leaned closer to listen.
"Ow."
"TIME OUT!" First Aid called out.
-0-Prowl
He looked at the dented slightly bent body of his star player who had been personally 'recruited' lying on the ground and felt the uncharacteristic urge to punch Ratchet in the face. Fortunately, his ada was standing between them so that was out. Time outs in a corner were always a possibility with Praxian genitors no matter how old you were.
Slag it.
He didn't dare glance at Ratchet.
Or his crestfallen worried genitors.
Or Ironhide who was having an internal plotz.
Or Prime. Optimus would support Prowl even as he himself stood serenely ignoring that his berth buddy had a team interest because he was the slagging Prime and not one to show preferences.
That one.
It both sucked and was awesome to be Prime.
Ironhide who stood on the other side of Ratchet could feel the great glee that washed through the bond. He felt it too because he was conflicted. Two of his younglings were with Kaon. Praxus was his much laughed at, much scorned home town team. Who to root for? Who to support?
If he wanted to get laid anytime in the millennium, Kaon was the team. He would lie and say so. But in his processor, in his spark and circling somewhere in the vicinity of his cod piece, he was Praxian to the superstructure.
/... GO, PRAXUS, YOU SLAGGERS! GET UP, BLURR, YOU FRAGGER! PROWL GOT YOU ON THE TEAM! EARN YOUR SLAGGING KEEP, YOU SLAGGER! … PleasePrimusPleasePrimusPleasePrimus … let us win today … I promise to be good … most of the time …/ Ironhide grinned, then snuck a peek at Ratchet.
Ratchet was standing serenely, a grin on his face. Blurr was blitzed and hopefully blotto. His boys had not been on the team that rang the speedster's bell but they were certainly not having any qualms about it.
"Frag, that looks like it hurt," Sideswipe said standing with Sunstreaker and Topsy.
"Yeah," Sunstreaker said with a slight grin. "I would hate to be his body mech. Going to take a few orns to get all the dents out."
The cameras panned the Kaon bench pausing on Sunstreaker, Topsy and Sideswipe. Lying sound asleep at their peds, Dawg had no opinion.
"That is Sunstreaker, Topsy and Sideswipe of Kaon," Blaster said with a grin. The screen held a small box with Jazz and Blaster live while the medics triaged Blurr. "That big mechanism on the ground is Dawg. He's the family pet of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe."
The camera panned over the big bulldog who lay in the sun snoring. His big muscular body was evident. So were his tattoos. They would get dozens and dozens of questions after the game about those tattoos.
The cameras cut back to the field. Blurr was sitting up talking to First Aid and Goldwing who knelt in front of him. The crowd was chatting, watching, laughing. Then the cameras moved to the Prime section. They moved slowly over the group sitting there. Blaster and Jazz filled in the audience.
"There is Prime along with Ratchet and Ironhide. The bots with them are Cyclonus, Paragon and a pirate leader, Slacker." Blaster grinned. "Yes, I said pirate."
"We're in the middle of a conversation with local sector Decepticon leaders and pirates out there. We're basically tellin' them act up and get blasted. The game is a way to let them know what they're missin' by maraudin'." Jazz grinned. "They live on an asteroid way out in space. To say they were surprised with their visit is an understatement."
Blaster nodded. "They also know we'll flatten them. I would say Blurr was an instructive visual aid for them."
Jazz laughed too. "I would agree."
-0-On the field
"I'm alright. Let me sit a moment, then I'll be alright," Blurr said as he stared at three First Aids and two Goldwings who knelt before him gathering up all his loose screws for tightening somewhere with a medberth. "I won't go and you can't make me."
"We can." -First Aid and Goldwing.
"Let me finish a game," Blurr begged. "I want to finish this game. I'll sit out a while. Then come back and see. Let me finish THE SLAGGING GAME!"
Goldwing snorted, then grinned. "Well, since you asked so nicely ..."
They hoisted him up and helped him limp off the field to great applause.
Half the applause was for him. The other half was a micro-mini celebration that a nozzle was leaving the field. Half the crowd wanted him to run the ball up the windpipes et al of Kaon. 20% of the crowd wanted him dismantled and his various pieces parts shipped back to Praxus permanently. 15% didn't care where he went as long as he went because they were still pissed that he helped eliminate Polyhex and Altihex from the playoffs and they let him know …
"SLAGGER!"
"FRAGGER!"
"YOU ARE A SLAGGING FRAGGER!"
56% of them didn't like either Kaon or Praxus and were rooting for both to lose. 31%, mostly soldiers who found it SCANDALOUS! (that Prowl could have a genuine base emotion and not die) had a bet that Prowl would cheat to make the team even more bad aft the next year. Magnus was working to catch the bookmaker and skin him alive. He had no idea that Arcee had a bet in said pool. 11% prayed to Primus that both teams would lose. It was a forlorn but holy quest. In the end, 183% of the crowd wanted something to happen.
As was said earlier ... meanwhile, the crowd let him know what they thought of him with their two genuinely Cybertronian swear words. It wasn't his fault that the range of swearing open to Cybertronians was limited. But he got the message. Blurr gave the boisterous section sitting behind the Praxus bench the Cybertronian equivalent of the middle finger which involved grabbing his cod piece and whistling.
That was when the mob came over the wall.
-0-TBC December 24, 2013
Note: First of all, to those who celebrate it, Happy Christmas Eve. To those who don't, Happy December 25th eve. :D
I wish I could express the pleasure I derive from your company. I know you live all over the place and have endless opportunities for entertainment. That you read this … epic … warms my heart. If I were a twin, I would say, "YOU GOT GOOD TASTE!"
But I'm not. :D Thanks anyway. :D
Christmas Surprise follows the game. It will be a day or two off schedule to the human calendar but I don't want to short the game. The potential for FOOTBALL HISTORY BEING MADE and the like is too tempting. So New Years and Christmas Surprise are going to be closer together than I want them to be.
I just wish to thank you for the fun on this, the fourth Christmas Surprise this story has had. Hugs and good will to everyone. Take care and know you are loved. -Me.