CHAPTER 10: A GAME OF HOOFBALL
As stated earlier, Equestrians, like most sentient beings, have outlets to dissipate aggression, reinforce herd unity, and generally blow off steam. One such outlet is the festival. Another – somewhat more aggressive – is herd sport.
While most of the residents were attending the fling at Ponyville Park, Coach Pinetree was strictly business down on the pitch of the Ponyville Hoofball League Club. This made some of the team a little surly, but the burly gray pegasus didn't give a buck. The season officially started in a month, but that was no reason for the team to slack off. Especially if they wanted to beat the Manehattan Metros and make the grand final.
So he went from one member of the Ponyville Elementals to the other, barking instructions, demonstrating how to do the exercises right, blowing his whistle, dispensing motivational clichés, and generally doing what his cutie mark – a whistle and hoofball – attested he did best.
He didn't notice the small audience at first, then dismissed them at second. The third time, he stopped when he heard one remark, "Give over! Rangers'd ha' these neddies fae a wee snack."
Stung, Pinetree spun around to glare at the loudmouth. Said loudmouth was grinning openly at his friends, all of whom turned out to be Shetlanders.
"Oh, and I suppose you've played for the Rangers eh?" the pegasus snapped, emphasising his irritation by snapping his wings with a sharp clap. Several snorts and stamps around him indicated that the team was a bit narked as well.
The other Shetlanders burst out laughing at this, ribbing the speaker mercilessly. Loudmouth however was undeterred.
"Us lads could still wipe t' field wi' yon gaudies," he declared defiantly.
"Oh really?" Pinetree wasn't impressed. There were plenty of ponies who had thought that the Ponyville strip of purple and pink indicated softness. You didn't make the semis by being soft though.
"I count seven of you. You up for a friendly game, sevens rules?"
"Awa' hame," the loudmouth sneered, "We're nae afraid. We'll get the lads and make it a full 'un. Bring it on!"
Pinetree was already flipping his whistle into his mouth, so he couldn't smirk as he caught the team's attention. The assembled Elementals, however, could. The sight of a massed hoofball team all smirking at him made Béalosard an Uiscídorcha slightly nervous.
Amhránaílore dourly waited outside the Ponyville Clinic as his ma and sister went inside. The lasses liked their shopping. Especially when they had a son and brother to carry it.
"Can I help you?" Nurse Redheart was on duty this morning, and looked uncertainly at the radiant young mare and her dam. Winterberry returned the uncertain look.
"We're just after some moon tea," Soothecup declared in a friendly tone, causing her foal to blush and shoot her dam a death glare.
"Moon tea?" Redheart blinked, then sniffed in a clinical fashion. "You don't seem to be coming into estrus yet."
"Och, 'tis nae for me!" Soothecup's laugh bounced around the room. "It's fae ma lass here."
Winterberry's blush deepened to a fine shade of tomato.
Redheart sniffed the air again in that clinical fashion. "She doesn't appear to be entering estrus either?"
"Nay, nay," Soothecup trundled on, ignoring the fusillade of deadly looks her daughter was sending her, "but I dinna' like tae take risks wi' ma girl here."
Winterberry bristled with embarrassment. She was almost grown, and she didn't need her ma to be hovering over her all the time! If it wasn't her ma, it was one or the other of her brothers, or some maid, all worried about her virtue. She'd read about what 'being covered' involved, and how important moon tea was, she was no foolish foal. If she ever found the right lad, however... he better have plenty of stamina. Reading was one thing, but Winterberry was very curious about how things went in practice.
That was a mighty if though. The Shetlanders were all loyal to her da and would probably turn tail. That Mucmarfóir neddy was right out of contention. Which left the gentry of Ponyville, but they all looked soft and too damn meek for her tastes.
As ma escorted her out of the clinic, burbling away, Winterberry wished she was back home where the real stallions were.
Amhránaílore was outside, looking in the direction of a rapidly departing Shetlander. "Some o' t' lads are havin' a wee hoofball game with t' local team at t' park, Ma," he said by way of greeting, "Maybe we should go support 'em?"
Soothecup and Winterberry blinked, looked at each other, then nodded. "Aye, sounds like a good idea," Soothecup said at last, "May as well see how yon lads are faring!"
Being a good son and a wise pony, Amhránaílore kept his thoughts about spectating being not shopping to himself. Instead, he relayed an amusing anecdote regarding three foals and two sets of bagpipes.
"Hey up! We're havin' a wee friendly with t' locals," one of the Shetland pegasi addressed the small knot of observers outside Carousel Corner.
"We're what?" a gentlecolt of Langstoncroft asked, relieved to think about something other than the revelation that Mucmarfóir the Mad was in his clan.
"That Béalosard ran his gob off, so yon coach challenged him tae a wee game."
"Och, now this we have tae see! Lead on!"
Inside, both Mucmarfóir and Rarity frowned at the raised voices outside.
"How long ha' those sods been peepin'?" the Shetlander wondered.
"Hmm?" Rarity had turned her back and was rooting around in a chest.
"Ah said, how long ha' those noseys..." he trailed off as Rarity slung a pink and purple scarf around her neck, and levitated a truly hideous fuzzy top hat in the same colours onto her head.
"That colt mentioned the coach," she explained, "which means they're playing the Elementals! Now this we have to see!"
"We?" Mucmarfóir managed to get out before another one of those hats dropped over his eyes and her magic grabbed his ear again.
Truth be told, he was getting a little bit tired of that.
A short while later, Mucmarfóir was lounging on one of several wooden terraces, blinking in bemusement.
The terraces served as stands for the spectators, directly opposite the HLC clubrooms, which were adorned with a scoreboard and a large doorway. In between them, the field, over seventeen hundred strides from post to post.
Currently there was a knot of bickering Shetlanders in front of the clubrooms, some of whom were entering while others seemed to be arguing the toss. Then a familiar pony approached the herd and Mucmarfóir tensed. He recognised the neddie who'd done him a reel last night.
Rianblade, however, was more concerned with selecting a few good ponies, and besides, someone had to captain the team.
Rianblade had also tapped Béalosard an Uiscídorcha. That pony objected, but Rianblade explained that since he had lived up to his name, he could back up his words with deeds.
Pinetree decided to let the Shetlanders kick off, and promptly took wing to survey the field.
The two teams looked like chalk and cheese. The Elementals in their pink and purple strip looked athletic, sleek and were already in formation, as opposed to the comparatively scrappy-looking visitors – now with added wing and horn binders, kindly donated by the Elementals. The reserves were standing or sitting on the sidelines making remarks.
Rianblade was shouting orders to his team, trying to get the daft neddies into position.
Béalosard was trying to remember the rules: Play behind t' ball, dinnae tackle anypony wi'out t' ball, dinnae tackle above t'chest, an'... och, what ha' I forgotten?
A particularly fiery-maned (and tempered) pegasus known as Blaze simmered quietly at scrum half. He hated hoofball since he wasn't allowed to fly, and from the direction of his glare either the Elementals or Béalosard were going to pay. Or both.
Truth be told, the Shetlanders were more than a little nervous. The stands were filling, mostly with home team supporters boasting pink and purple, but here and there were knots of tartan. Looking for them was better than looking at the alarming number of legends across the centre line. Mayerhoofler, the loose forward in jersey 15. Fairfield, the 'Jolly Green Giant', jersey number 13. Hooker, one of just two ponies on the team with a hoofball-related cutie mark, jersey number 11. Twilight Wing, said limbs twitching eagerly under his binder, the winger in jersey 5. Unlike Blaze, he didn't mind crashing around on the ground; less chance of wing sprains or even breaks.
Broadback just stood, an slate-gray hulk of horned scrum-half in the number 7 jersey. Behind him, his fellow five-eighth Dusty in jersey 6. And finally, currently obscured behind a bored yawn, was a large navy centre, jersey 3: the legend known simply as Buck.
These ponies alone would have been enough to give the Shetlanders reservations, but the remaining seven on the team were just as imposing and just as obviously looking forward to running the visitors into the ground en route to the try-line – repeatedly.
"Right then," Pinetree called, then blew the signal for start of play.
Rianblade swallowed, turned, then backed up and kicked the ball into play. The home team immediately went into action, two chasing the ball and the other five falling back ready to catch the pass. The Shetlanders charged forward, Rianblade lagging slightly as he spun around from his kick.
All things considered it was a pretty good kick, the ball going slightly to the left and about a hundred and twenty hooves into Elementals territory. 'Lucky' 15, jumped for it, teeth bared, and snagged the stretchy, tough leatherfish skin the ball was encased in. The skin not only made the ball easy to seize with your mouth, it prevented excited players from puncturing it.
He was galloping even before he returned to earth. Hoofball, as mentioned, was an aggression outlet in general. The player with the ball was an aggression outlet in particular.
Three Shetlanders veered to intercept him. A big tan fellow attempted to shoulder-charge, but 15 waltzed sideways, the ball flapping from his teeth as he looked for teammates to pass to. Spotting the pink and purple out of the corner of one eye, he tossed his head and let the ball fly to the offside.
Another two Shetlanders took aim at the target: Dusty. That worthy had already planned his move and slung it almost immediately further along to Fairfield – who decided to claim some territory and put on a spurt.
Two of the Shetlanders had held back, and immediately went on the offensive. "The Jolly Green Giant" sidestepped one, but the other crashed into him in a classic tackle, pinning the unicorn to the ground. Only hours of training stopped him from gasping as the breath was knocked out of him. His nostrils flared hugely instead as he struggled for air, legs kicking as he tried to get to his feet and the shaggy oaf off him.
"Pass back play on 13!" Pinetree yelled.
The Shetlander scrabbled off as the big prop rose to his hooves and pushed the ball back to Hooker, who immediately sent it sideways to Twilight Wing who sent it on to Broadback. The third phase of Elemental possession commenced in a charge that got within two strides of the halfway line before terminating in a big gray fellow, who'd seen the writing on the wall and lagged behind.
It was a good tackle, as Broadback actually lost the ball when the wind was knocked out of him. The big grey Shetlander battened on to the ball and took the first phase of Shetland possession up to the quarter line, before being unavoidably detained under a Jolly Green Giant. The ball was kicked back to a recently arrived Blaze, who noted the imminent arrival of a brace of Elementals and immediately fired a pass to where Béalosard was yelling his head off.
No matter now assiduously you followed the Elementals, Buck always surprised with his speed. The centre in jersey number 3 made a classic intercept, put his head down, and went flat out for the try line.
Sixteen seconds later the score stood at Ponyville Elementals 4, Shetland Visitors nil.
One well-punted conversion, courtesy Twilight Wing, jacked the score to 6-0.
Anypony watching could have told you, from the blowing and looks being shot between the teams, that both sides had their blood up now.
Which was quite correct. The Elementals had been taken a little off guard by the energy of the Shetland defence, and were seeing red. The Shetlanders, on the other hand, were seeing pink and purple.
"By 'eck," Mucmarfóir gasped. He'd heard snippets about hoofball from time to time, but he'd never actually seen such a game.
Rarity poked his shoulder. "And there's still thirty-three minutes in this half to go," she informed her current project.
The brown Shetlander just stared at the freshest pile of vigorously kicking ponies on the field. The whole business had taken seven... aye, seven minutes, there was t' clock o'er on t' scoreboard... How could anypony endure an hour an' a half o' that?
About five minutes later, Béalosard the Loudmouth found himself standing before the touchline about five hooves past the 100-stride line. Either side of him, two rows of snorting, lathered sportsponies stamped impatiently. Lineout time.
After the conversion, the Shetlanders had resumed with a mighty kick that almost landed a good three hundred twenty hooves into Elemental territory.
The Shetlanders were storming forward well before the ball hit the ground, and bounced into the possession of Hooker again. It was only a botched pass that let the Shetland braggart grab the ball, realise he was about to end up on the bottom of a ruck, and attempt a side kick that led to a sideline official flicking up his flag and Pinetree whistling for a lineout.
Vaguely he remembered that you had to rear up with the ball in your forehooves and throw it that way; a recollection more or less aided by the advice being shouted at him by several team-mates. Twilight Wing was almost bouncing in place, while Blaze just waited, tense.
Equestrians can stand on their hind legs, but it's not easy. Especially when you're trying to hold something at the same time. It wasn't an expert throw, and both Blaze and Twilight Wing jumped, assisted by helpful teammates, teeth snapping and forelimbs flailing as they attempted to flick the ball to their side.
Twilight Wing was successful, and the Shetlanders were once again on the defensive as the Elementals' superior training, and formidable forwards, ground from one tackle to the next.
"C'mawn Shetlanders brave!" Winterberry yelled, caught up in the herd instinct. Despite not being all that athletic – her parents were also of the mind that hoofball was a colts' game – she still considered herself part of the team, and that her cheering was as important as the efforts of those on the field.
The cry was taken up by the other Shetlanders, and she couldn't help noticing a few of the locals were also barracking for her herd as well. Da mightn't like the fake tartans they were waving or wearing, but they were...
Her ear, then her eye, was captured by a stallion with coat and eyes the colour of loam, kilted in the colours of Langstoncroft, bellowing his support in an unmistakably Shetland accent, standing next to a unicorn who looked much like Generosity Incarnate. She puzzled at him. It wasn't a proper kilt he wore, and his coat and mane had been cropped awful short. Who the hay was he?
"Rianblade! Yes!" her Ma screamed, along with a sizable number of her herd. Winterberry looked back to the field. Her brother had the ball in his teeth and was charging back up the field!
"Go brother! Go! Gogogogo GO!" she squealed in excitement, bouncing up and down. "Go Rian – Rianblade LOOK OUT!"
You could hear the impact of Buck tackling Rianblade from one end of the field to the other. The colt actually flew two strides sideways through the air before hitting the ground.
He didn't move.
Winterberry screamed.
Mucmarfóir's head whipped round. Up the far end of the stand he could see a white mare, obviously hysterical, despite what looked like her dam attempting to calm her down.
"There come the medics," Rarity observed, "Looks like they'll have him in the blood bin to make sure he's all right."
"Wha'?" Mucmarfóir pulled his eyes back to the field, where the brown-coated Shetlander was staggering off between two white-jacketed fellows. Concussion, he suspected. That big blue neddie obviously hit hard.
"Ah thought this were a friendly game!" Béalosard gasped. If that had been him, he was sure he'd have been takin' t' Low Road home!
"Elementals don't play friendlies," someone answered behind him.
"Then why should we?" Blaze growled.
Rianblade's incapacitation seemed to turn a switch in the Shetlander team's heads, and it started when Pinetree decided to call a scrum to the visitors.
The Elementals slotted into their places with a smoothness betraying hours of practice, while the Shetlanders opted for putting their biggest lads up front. Blaze rolled the ball under one forehoof as he waited for the cue to slot it into the tunnel.
"Crouch!" Pinetree called. The two groups froze, hunching down, ready to spring.
"Touch!" Forehooves prodded the opposition's shoulders, not gently either.
"Pause!" Blaze stopped playing with the ball and lined it up a little closer to his teammates than centre.
"Engage!"
The sound of twenty-four ponies grunting as they slammed into each other was Blaze's cue to feed the ball into the scrum. For a moment the Elementals' superior skill and pack weight looked like dominating, but the Shetlanders' ire shoved them back a good stride, the ball emerging into Shetland hooves almost immediately. Then the assault started.
"Och hay," Soothecup groaned as yet another vicious tackle turned over possession. The lads seemed to have decided to just try and stampede through the Elemental line! Winterberry was still peering over to where Rianblade was being tended to, then the crowd exploded with indignation.
Twilight Wing had seized the ball and almost immediately had to jink to avoid an irate Blaze, who was attempting to give him a Shetland Hoofshake. Being concerned with not getting whacked by the crazed Shetland pegasus, he just spat the ball away without looking, but Blaze still went snarling after him. Pinetree's whistle shrilled as players, the ball forgotten, descended on the two pegasi to separate them.
"Who t' hay put that neddie on t' team?" Amhránaílore groused, "He's always mouthing off."
"Needs must," his father shrugged, "anyway he's in t' sin bin fae now."
The next ten minutes dragged on for three days, the now under strength Shetlanders still managing to keep the score down to just 15-nil, thanks to Blaze handing the home side a penalty kick; subsequently a missed conversion balanced that out. By then Rianblade had recovered and cantered back onto the field to a rousing cheer. Even Mucmarfóir supported him. Despite getting hoofied by the lad, he had to admit that the fiery stallion was a Shetlander true.
Blaze returned to the field shortly thereafter and was met with what must have been some choice remarks from Rianblade, if his limp ears and tail were any indication.
With Rianblade's return, the visiting team's morale picked up noticeably. This resulted in about six passes leading up to a spectacular charge to the tryline. After hovering around observing the heaving, snorting and swearing pile of furiously rucking ponies from all angle, Pinetree finally blew for a try. The Elementals scrambled to their hooves, revealing a rather battered-looking heather-hued Shetlander flat on the ground, snorting for breath, and triumphantly pressing the ball down with one slightly trodden-on forelimb. barely one eighth of a hoof past the line with just over a minute remaining.
The crowd, needless to say, went wild.
"What a try!" Rarity (never) shrilled, wrapping her forelimbs around an almost as excited Mucmarfóir.
The Shetlander didn't reply. He was still goggling at the fact that the heather lad was not only managing to get up, but was being helped by one of the opposition, while Blaze was lining up for a shot at goal from about ten strides out.
White caught his eye, and he realised the bonny Shetland mare he'd noticed before was looking at him again.
She had the most bonny berry-red eyes.
"Wha's thee looking at?" Soothecup nudged her daughter.
"Eh?" Winterberry blinked.
"Yon field's down there! Wha's caught thee eye?"
Winterberry thought quickly. "I couldnae ken... but 'tis! Generosity Incarnate in the daft hat! By yon brown lad, see?"
Soothecup looked. The mare was Rarity, and that hat was right daft, and she wasn't who her filly were staring at. She was about to speak but Winterberry sucked in a breath, looking down at the field as Blaze braced to kick the conversion.
All things considered it was a good kick, the ball almost sailing between the posts, but too low. With one spiteful bounce off the crossbar, the first half finished 15-4 to the Elementals.
Pinetree blew the half-time whistle, which was almost inaudible under the sound of Shetlanders cheering and stamping in applause. The Elementals retired to the changing rooms while the Shetlander team was swamped by well-wishers.
Following her ma's lead, Winterberry pushed through the crowd to where Rianblade was holding court over a team huddle.
"An' this next 'alf we'll have no goin' fae t' other players, just t' ball, has tha' got that Blaze?" his voice was barely audible. There was a sullen mumble, then her brother grunted. "Well make sure ye stay getting' it. Now then –" his head popped out of the circle. "Some o' ye gobshites go get us water – och! Hello ma!"
"Water?" Winterberry blinked. "Oh! O' course, ye're all lathered, I'll find some."
"No need love," Soothecup placed a hoof on her daughter's shoulder. "Some o' these other fluffies can do that," she added in a pointed tone while looking about, "can they no?"
When the Laird's mare made a suggestion like that, you picked up on it, and there was quite the traffic jam as shaggy ponies attempted to get and fill buckets.
Winterberry simmered a bit. She'd hoped to see that mystery pony.
Mucmarfóir could see Winterberry easily; from the terraces her white flank and merry red tail seemed to glow among the darker hides of her countryponies.
"We should go down and wish them well," Rairity said, jolting Mucmarfóir out of his thoughts. Och, what am I thinkin'? Tha's yon warrior who did the reel on me last night, he'll recognise me, an' there I'll be all alone wi' them angry neds...
"Ah dinnae ken would be a good idea," he said slowly at last. "Who's that lass with the white coat?" he added, trying to keep his upper lip under control, "Never seen her like before."
"Ah... Winterberry I think, the Laird's daughter." Och buckin' hay! Well done Mucmarfóir, ye daft fluffy neddie, tha's thinkin' wicked o' not just a Shetland mare, but o' the Laird's filly! I'd be headin' hame along t' Low Road for certain...
"Oh dear." Rarity had come to the same conclusion. "Mind you, there is quite a crush isn't there? Can you imagine what that could do to my – er, our grooming?"
The wild Shetlander blinked at the elegant unicorn (hat notwithstanding) and realised that the way she was looking at him... it was an awful lot like when he looked at Winterberry.
Pinetree blew for full time forty minutes later, the Elementals having won by a respectably hard-fought 35-12. Rianblade had led a spectacular fight over the tryline – another four points making it ten to the visitors – and Blaze had put his anger into kicking the ball between the goalposts with seventeen minutes to go. It was one of the most loudly applauded tries of the match, and a change from The Great Elemental Scoring Machine.
"I think I'll be back tae t' hotel ma, da," Winterberry remarked, watching the herd of Shetlanders and Ponyville citizens roil around the teams in congratulation.
"All right," Soothecup remarked absently, "Amhránaílore can see ye back."
"Nae need surely! I can see ma'sael' back safe!"
Soothecup opened her mouth to say something, but Winterberry had already turned her tail. Honestly, ma seemed to think she was still a wee foal, for buck's sake! She didn't need watching all the time, she could take care of herself.
The fact that she might take a circuitous route past Carousel Corner en route was neither here nor there.
"What a great game!" Rarity sighed, "Still, I suppose I had better head back to the shop. Oh!" She looked at Mucmarfóir. "Do you have a place to sleep tonight?"
The stallion just looked at her. There was something in her eyes that made him rather nervous.
HOOFBALL: A popular team sport resembling rugby league with some influences from netball, and a sink for aggression. Being quadrupeds, the ball is carried in the mouth, but the rules on scrums, tackles and so forth are reasonably similar. Pegasi play a similar game called Cloudball with rules taking flight into account. Magic is expressly forbidden, and pegasus and unicorn members are required to wear 'binders' to negate any advantages their species might give them. Varieties of 'Hornball' do exist among unicorns, but so far none of them have reached anything beyond niche or experimental status.
The aim is to carry the ball either in hoof or mouth over the opposition 'try line' at the end of the field, in order to score four points and have the opportunity to kick a goal (an extra two points.) Penalty kicks are worth three.
The main source of difference is that the rules are designed for quadrupeds. As well as mouth carry, kicking games tend to be races against time before the referee calls a dead ball (or it gets turned over).
Games are played in two halves of thirty-two minutes with a ten-minute break in between.
Hoofball players tend to have very strong neck and shoulder muscles from all the passing they do, since attempting to pick up the ball, or kick it with a forehoof, can result in either penalty or temporary detention beneath the opposition.
The field is slightly longer than a human rugby field, being 1746 hooves (octal) between goalposts and 1262 hooves (also octal) wide.
For more background I strongly recommend Spiro Zavos' How to Watch a Game of Rugby, Awa Press, ISBN 9780958250931.
LEATHERFISH: Being herbivorous, Equestrians do not kill fellow herbivores if they can avoid it. Fish, for some reason, are considered fair game. Leatherfish are known for their tough skins, which are cleaned, tanned, and stitched together where leather is required. Their flesh and bones are generally used for either fertiliser or glue.
SILPHIUM: A herb probably related to fennel, known for its contraceptive properties. In reality, this plant went extinct due to over-harvesting.