#ugh I don’t need another pretty boy on my roster

[blitheringmcgonagall]

Nah, He Didn’t... Jilytober Prompt #25

 This is for @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world who made the list of prompts and is a star 😘😘😘😘

Prompt #25:  7th Year Lily thinking James is no longer interested in her…

(Btw, I am not a fan AT ALL of James chasing after an unrequiting Lily for ages, that stalkerish behaviour is more Snape, if anyone, and in canon James only asks her out once, just reminding you all…)

                                                   Nah, He Didn’t 

It was freezing cold outside and Lily wrapped her fleece-lined cloak around her tightly as she wandered off towards the Great Lake on that blustery morning. She hadn’t slept particularly well, and she needed to wake up before starting school. She rubbed her tired eyes and yawned widely, then blinked. A fluffy, large, black dog was trotting towards her, wagging its tail joyfully.

“Ooooh, look at you!” she cooed warmly, hunkering down as the dog approached her. “Aren’t you a dote? Such a gorgeous dog!”

The dog barked enthusiastically as though in complete agreement.

“Of course you are,” Lily said, rubbing behind the dog’s ears. “I’m sure you get told that all the time!”

The dog made a sound half-way between a laugh and a bark, wagging its tail with enthusiasm.

“Big-headed git,” Lily snorted, ruffling the soft hair on the dog’s head affectionately.

The dog’s chin shot up.

“Oh, a bit defensive, are we?” Lily quipped.

The dog sniffed.

“Fair enough, unlike some big-headed gits, you actually have something to be vain about,” she said, with a sigh.

The dog cocked its head to one side, as though listening attentively. It did the trick.

“Don’t get me started,” Lily muttered crossly. “I really, really need to cop on and move on. I mean, there was a stupid rumour in Fifth Year that he liked me, which was bollocks.”

The dog’s eyes grey wide.

“Nah, he didn’t, utter bollocks,” Lily amended, sitting down on the damp ground with a huff. “But then last year, we were getting on really well, and I started seeing him differently, you know…”

The dog moved closer to her and his ears pricked up.

“Fine, I started liking him, as in, you know, liking liking him,” Lily said, as the dog’s eyebrows shot up. “Whatever, fancying him rotten, alright? Satisfied? Ugh! I’m such an idiot! I never hated him, not really, it’s just that we were always annoying each other, engaging in verbal battles and whatnot, I mean I think we both liked spending time with each other, despite the sassy remarks, or maybe because of them.”

She stared moodily ahead of her, which meant she missed the startled and frankly shocked look that the black dog gave her.

“Which was fine. It was nice being friends with James, he’s a nice person, you know?” she added.

The dog barked at her pointedly and thumped his tail against the ground.

“And then this year, when I heard he was Head Boy, I was delighted initially. We got to spend loads of extra time together and I got to see more sides to him and, and… and it’s been rubbish! I can’t concentrate on anything when he’s nearby, I keep seeing all these adorable sides to him that I never knew existed, and his bedroom is next door to mine. Next Door! You don’t want to know the number of times I’ve seen him come in from Quidditch practice with his uniform stuck to his toned abs and biceps and Merlin…”

She sighed deeply and the dog whined.

“Oh dear! Are you not feeling well?” Lily asked.

The dog groaned.

“And then after seeing him looking so hot, gone to bed and dreamt we had a row and made up and then I was tearing his quidditch uniform off and-“

The dog let out a huge yelp. Lily huffed with annoyance and ripped some blades of grass.

“So then as he’s so clearly not interested in my any more, if he ever really was-“

The dog dropped his head onto the grass and whined loudly.

“I decided the only way to address this was by us both dating other people. Excellent idea, I thought,” she said.

The dog looked at her as though she had grown two heads.

“Except it’s been an unmitigated disaster. Helping him get changed and deciding what to wear on his date with Miranda Carlisle? Helping him think of where to take Lelli Kumar on their first date? IT WAS A NIGHTMARE, Snuffles!”

The dog growled under his breath and sank his chin further into the grass.

“Well, I don’t know what your name is, love, and Snuffles is sweet,” Lily said, with a wicked grin at the grumpy looking dog.

“And as for asking James’ advice on what to wear on that cringeful date with Jack Meadows? Merlin, it was a disaster! The worst was probably the day we were both going on separate dates and spent an entire afternoon trying to be all supportive and encouraging with each other. I was so sick of it all, I said to him maybe we should just forget about our dates and go on a date together instead, save us all the hassle,” Lily said, making a face.

The dog sat up suddenly and his right ear shot up.

“How much more bloody obvious can you get, right? And he said yeah, we should,” Lily said, imitating James’ deeper voice and throwing herself down on her back with a huge sigh. “And then we both just stood there, like idiots, and went on our respective dates. I mean, he’s clearly not into me at all, is he?”

The dog let out a strangled sound.

“I know, so embarrassing! And another time when we were bitching about the stress of dating people you don’t know, I literally said I’d prefer to just go on a date with you James. And you know what he said?” Lily said, turning her neck to look at the dog.

“I’d go on a date with you any time you want, Evans, you just need to ask,” Lily said, mimicking James’ flirty tone and ruffling her hair.

The dog looked at her expectantly.

“So I said now would be nice, Potter, and he laughed and said please stop taking the piss, Evans, I can’t cope with you,” she groaned. “Well obviously I didn’t ask him again after that, not when he was just saying it to be nice!”

She huffed and stuck her hands behind her head. The dog flopped sideways onto the grass as though momentarily incapacitated.

“Bloody boys!” she muttered. “They’re all stupid!”

The dog gave a small bark, as though disagreeing.

“Take Sirius and Remus, both totally head over heels in love with each other, both totally clueless!” she said, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know what either of them needs to do in order for the other one to realise it! Sirius sits in class gazing at the back of Remus’ head like he’s staring at a work of art, and Remus fell over his schoolbag cause he was staring at Sirius when he came in after a Quidditch match. I’m pretty sure Mc Gonagall knows it, she keeps giving them detention together for no good reason!”

The dog made a distressed sound, like it was choking, and Lily sat up.

“Are you alright, you poor thing?” she said, petting his back fondly, and watching as a particularly fit Quidditch Captain and Head Boy walked over towards them.

“He always looks particularly well in his tight quidditch top, showing off his toned forearms with the beautiful veins on the back of his hands and arms. I have a thing about his hands and his arms, and his eyes, and his smile,” she whispered to the dog, who made a hacking noise.

“You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t get back to sleep so I did some practice,” said James.

“If that dog’s annoying you, Evans, just send him on his way,” he added, folding the aforementioned beautiful arms, and looking at the dog with a raised brow.

The dog whined and squeezed in beside Lily.

“Leave him alone, Potter! Snuffles is a delight!” she glared back.

“Snuffles?” James snorted and beamed at the black dog. “Oh, Snuffles is pure joy.”

The dog sulked..

“You, er, you wouldn’t be available to help me with those prefect rosters later, would you, Potter?” she said, twisting her hair with embarrassment.

“Yeah, sure, no problem at all,” said James, looking at her wistfully. “I’m just going to shower before school starts.”

Lily stared after him.

“You know, you really aught to stop swooning over his arse, like an idiot, and ask him out, properly.”

“Sirius! Where did you spring out of!” Lily said, clearing her throat and giving him an unmerciful dig with her elbow.

“Ouch!” Sirius yelped, rubbing his arm fretfully. “I mean it.”

Lily rolled her eyes and linked her arm with his.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Where did the cute dog go?”

“The cute dog who’s definitely not called Snuffles? I have no idea,” Sirius said breezily.

Lily looked around her distractedly.

“Lily, there’s something you should know,” Sirius said. “Boys are very, very stupid. Significantly more stupid than you’d expect. Never underestimate how stupid boys are.”

“Oh,” Lily said. “Right.”

“Right. Now. I dare you to ask James out, properly,” he said, raising his arched brow at her. “And if you do, I promise to ask out Remus Lupin.”

She stared at him.

“Well?” he said.

Her face split into a huge grin.

“Well, in that case, as a purely platonic thing, to help you two get your act together,” she beamed and squeezed his arm in excitement.

“Platonic, my arse,” Sirius said. “Shall we?”

Lily grit her teeth and nodded.

He grabbed her hand and raced with her towards the castle.

[junker-town]

Western Illinois, Year 40, 2046-2047

The final season of our sim dynasty with Western Illinois in College Hoops 2K8 is here.

Welcome back to our simulated dynasty with the Western Illinois Leathernecks in College Hoops 2K8. You can find a full explanation of this project + spoiler-free links to previous seasons here. Check out the introduction to this series from early April 2020 for full context. As a reminder, we simulate every game in this series and only control the recruiting and coaching strategies. Dynasty mode runs for 40 years.

Before we pick up with the Leathernecks at the start of Year 40, here’s a recap of everything that happened last season:

Western Illinois entered Year 39 trying to three-peat as national champions for the first time in program history. We lost two starters early to the NBA coming into the season, but still had enough talent to be ranked No. 10 overall in the preseason polls.

We ran through the regular season schedule, losing only one game to UCLA during the non-conference season and sweeping Summit League opponents once again. We entered the NCAA tournament at 29-1 on the year and earned a No. 4 seed to the big dance.

We beat Brown in round one, knocked off Georgia Tech in the round of 32, beat Indiana in the Sweet 16, and lost to Florida in the Elite Eight. We know enter the final season of my career tied with John Wooden with 10 national championships.

We added three players in our last ever recruiting class: five-star JUCO SF Jerald Obasohan, four-star SG Erwin Walls, and four-star PF Kenny Butler.

Here’s a first look at our roster for Year 40:

It feels like only yesterday that a fresh-faced, 25-year-old came to the small town of Macomb, Illinois with big dreams. Coach Rick was hired by Western Illinois to do the impossible: win a national championship with arguably the worst team in college basketball. After 39 seasons at the helm, our tiny program has accomplished that and so much more. Now it’s time to hang it up.

Our journey at Western Illinois is finally coming to an end. In literal terms, College Hoops 2K8 forces mandatory retirement upon coaches in dynasty mode after 40 seasons. All good stories need closure either way. As we start our final season, we have some big stakes attached to our swan song.

Western Illinois has won 10 national championships in the Ricky Charisma era. That ties us with UCLA legend John Wooden for the most in history. What started as a mission to win a single national championship has now left us with a different goal: to become the undisputed greatest program in the history of the sport.

While we failed in our bid to three-peat last season — falling to Florida in the Elite Eight — we did bring back all four breakout juniors for this season. We only lost starting center DJ Foster to graduation. Yeah, it’s been a while since we last published Year 39 (thanks for your patience), so let’s go over the roster:

PG Christano Ngounou, junior, 89 overall: Ngounou made major strides after being forced into the starting lineup last season, and now looks like a rock solid contributor going into our final year. An international recruit out of Cameroon, Ngounou is a fast 6’3 guard with lockdown defensive ability and a slightly above average three-point shot. We have bigger names on this squad who will be expected to carry the scoring load, but Ngounou is going to play a huge role because he’s way better than every other point guard on the roster. We need quality minutes from him in the tournament. Former five-star international recruit with B potential.

SG Bernie Doyle, redshirt senior, 92 overall: Doyle is an incredible talent who enters his senior year looking to fully blossom into a superstar. The 6’9 shooting guard uses his immense size on both ends of the floor. He’s elite at getting into the passing lanes and forcing steals (a team-high 1.8 per game as a junior) on the defensive end, and has a sweet three-point stroke offensively. Doyle is such a smooth scorer and dominant defender that it feels like he has the natural talent to develop into an all-great in his senior year. Let’s hope he’s up to the challenge. Former No. 36 overall recruit from Detroit with C potential. Projected lottery pick.

SF Floyd Keller, redshirt senior, 92 overall: Keller checks every box for a small forward. He has good size at 6’7. He has a three-point rating in the mid-80s. He’s the best dunker on the team. He’s an elite offensive rebounder for a wing with a rating in the low 90s, which helps equip him to play minutes at the four. After a tough shooting night in our Elite Eight loss last season — he went 1-for-7 from three — we’ll need Keller to be consistently great if we want one more run through the bracket. Former No. 101 overall recruit out of Dallas with C+ potential. Projected second round pick.

PF Oscar Fray, redshirt senior, 88 overall: Fray enters his third year as a starter with a fascinating combination of size and skill that could set him up for a breakout senior year. The 7-foot power forward is a great three-point shooter for his position with a rating just below 80. Defensively, he’s the top-rated shot blocker on the team, and also does a pretty good job on the glass. Former No. 118 overall recruit out of Lynn, MA with C potential. Projected second round pick.

C Brody Munoz, redshirt senior, 92 overall: Munoz finally gets the spotlight as a senior after backing up DJ Foster — a one-time NCAA tournament Most Outstanding Player — for his entire career up to this point. We’re expected big things, and not just because he’s tied for the highest rated player on the roster going into the regular season. What Munoz lacks in elite size at 6’11 he can make up for with strength, agility, and rebounding. We expect him to be really good at forcing turnovers, grabbing putbacks, and helping fortify the paint. Former No. 169 overall recruit (No. 6 center) out of Nashville with B potential. Projected lottery pick.

We have an incredibly deep bench for our final season. Center Logan Polk (85 overall) will be our sixth man, and should be able to form a three-man front court rotation with the two starters in the tournament. After that, we have a lot of options but not a lot of good options.

Here’s the rest of the bench: wing Jaycee Queen (80 overall), wing Jerald Obasohan (79 overall), guard Archie Howell (78 overall), wing/guard James Haranga (74 overall), guard Edwin Walls (74 overall), and power forward Kenny Butler (74 overall).

This is really it. Year 40. The last dance. What a ride it has been. We start the season at No. 4 in the polls.

How did the regular season go?

For our final regular season, we tried to schedule a good mix of local schools and historic big conference rivals with a couple in-season tournaments thrown in for good measure.

Here’s how the regular season went:

Win over Bradley

Win over Nebraska

Win over UTEP

Loss to Southern Illinois

Win over Florida

Loss to Northwestern

Win over New Mexico

Win over DePaul

That sets up a rivalry game against Illinois. We’ve played the Illini in almost every season, and we don’t want to end this dynasty without one more dub. The losses to Southern Illinois and Northwestern were a real bummer, and we need a palate cleanser. Let’s go!

Big win, 102-68. Look at Cristano Ngounou hanging 17 points and six assists on the Illini. Love seeing both starters in the front court — seniors Oscar Fray (13 points, 10 rebounds) and Brody Munoz (18 points, 11 rebounds) — each dropping a double-double, too. And how about our new five-star JUCO addition Obasohan chipping in 12 points off the bench? Really promising performance from the boys.

We get a big win over Kansas in our next game. That sets up another marquee game with a program we don’t like very much out of the state of North Carolina: Duke. We’ve battling with Duke on the court and on the recruiting trail for 40 freaking years. Can we end this rivalry with a dub?

Ugh, loss, 88-83. Nice games from Bernie Doyle (19 points, four assists) and Oscar Fray (14 points, 12 rebounds), but it isn’t enough. That’s our third loss of the season. Get bent, Duke.

We end the year with three more non-conference games.

Win over Illinois-Chicago

Win over American

Win over Arizona State

While we may have lost the final battle to Duke, I won the war over Coach K with a significantly better career by any measure (more on that in a minute). Now it’s time to jump into conference play in the Summit League.

Did we go undefeated in conference season?

Yes we did, another perfect 18-0 stretch.

Now we enter the conference tournament. Can we punch one more automatic bid to the NCAA tournament?

Win over UMKC

Win over Southern Utah

Win over UL-Calcutta

We’re going to the NCAA tournament for the last time, but that isn’t even the headliner after winning the Summit League. Im taking home the conference tournament championship, I won game No. 1,171 of my career. That currently puts me ahead of Coach K for the most wins all-time.

We have built a great legacy at Western Illinois. Before we enter the NCAA tournament, let’s take a look at our statistical leaders:

What a year for Munoz. Dude sat on the bench for four seasons before finally getting a starting spot, and all he did was lead our team in scoring at 17.2 points per game. Fray was awesome, too, averaging a hair under 15 points per game while chipping in nearly two blocks and six rebounds per game. It’s good to see Keller and Doyle both hit double-figures in scoring. I’m a bit surprised Cristano couldn’t even put up seven points a night after his big game against Illinois, but the assist and steals numbers are solid. We’re going to need him in March.

The Leathernecks are heading into the NCAA tournament at 32-3 on the year. I can’t wait to see what seed we get.

2047 NCAA tournament

Well, we couldn’t end this dynasty without getting swindled by the Selection Committee one more time. We’re a No. 6 seed in the NCAA tournament. I thought we should have been a top-four seed without question.

We’ll open the tournament with a game against No. 11 seed Syracuse. Sheesh. Before we get to the game, let’s check in on our roster one more time:

I’m loving the way this group progressed through the year. We have two awesome wing scorers with an elite combination of size and shooting in Keller and Doyle. We have plenty of beef up front with Munoz, Fray, and Polk. Ngounou entered the program as a 77 overall and shot up to a 92 in three years without a redshirt. The bench also really improved during the season and should give us plenty of different lineup options in March.

This is going to be a tough run, starting with Syracuse. The Orange have knocked us out of the big dance before, and consistently put together really strong teams.

Our last dance starts now. As always, we’re simulating every game, I’m not controlling the ‘Necks.

Let’s go!

Win, 105-73! What an absolute beatdown. We’ve moving on to the round of 32.

Long-time followers of the series will know that our Leathernecks have always been known as a second half team. It happened in a big way in this game. Syracuse ended the first half strong to cut our lead to nine points, but we quickly turned it into a blowout out of the break.

I thought this was a tremendous all-around team effort. Six players hit double-figures in scoring with no one putting up more than Floyd Keller’s 15 points. Everyone who played recorded an assist. I loved this play from the first half when we set two screens for our five-star JUCO Obasohan that helped get him an easy layup.

Our bench is a big question mark coming into this tournament, mostly because it’s filled with a lot of fresh faces who haven’t played big minutes in clutch spots before. I have to say, the performance of our reserves in our tournament opener was super encouraging. Obasohan in particular looks like a keeper after scoring 10 points on 4-of-5 shooting and knocking down a three. We always need wing depth, and he should be able to provide that on this run.

The clear highlight of Obasohan’s night: this sick two-handed dunk in transition for an and-one.

We love to turn defense into offense, and Ngounou and Doyle’s ability to get into the passing lanes really helps us out there.

Speaking of Ngounou in transition: he had a beautiful finish on the break to put the game fully out of reach. That’s what you want out of your point guard.

The win sets up a second round game against Colorado State

The Rams have been a solid program throughout this sim dynasty, regularly making NCAA tournament appearances. We have a decisive edge in talent heading into this game.

We are one win away from going to the Sweet 16 and extended our run in the big dance. One time, ‘Necks. Let’s go!

Win, 109-79! We’re going to the Sweet 16!

We didn’t need to be a second half team in this one. Our ‘Necks blew the doors off Colorado State from the opening tip-off. I thought we played a great game offensively thanks to our inside-out ball movement.

We had five scorers in double-figures in this one, but it was senior starters Bernie Doyle and Oscar Fray leading the charge. We know Doyle is capable of taking over a game at his best, and he was awesome in this one: 20 points on 7-of-13 shooting from the field and 4-of-6 shooting from three. The real story was Fray, though.

Fray was probably the least appealing long-term prospect of our recruiting class when he entered the program alongside Doyle, Keller, and Munoz. That was mostly because of his 74 rating and C potential grade. While he’s always been rated a few points lower than his classmates, Fray’s skill set on the court is so important to us. He’s a massive 7-foot power forward who can protect the rim and shoot threes. What more do you want?

Fray went off in this game: 22 points, eight rebounds, two assists, two steals on 9-of-11 shooting. I love watching the big man shoot from deep. This was from NBA range.

Here’s one more catch-and-shoot three for good measure.

Fray might get slept on a little on this team, but he’s absolutely critical to our success if we want to win it all.

I also want to shout-out the bench for another solid performance. I liked what I saw out of Obasohan (11 points) and Howell (10 points). Since we already have two Obasohan clips in this post, why not make it three? Love him hitting this triple in the first half to help us open up the lead.

We’re rollin’.

The win sets up a Sweet 16 game vs. Alabama

We’re now four wins away from ending this dynasty with a national championship. A Sweet 16 game against Bama is going to be an absolute battle.

In our simulated future, the Tide have become a basketball school. This program seems to make the tournament every year, and they’ve given us plenty of trouble in the past.

A trip to the Elite Eight is on the line. Let’s go!

Win, 112-69! We’re onto the Elite Eight!

Say it with me: SECOND. HALF. TEAM. After a tight first half left us with a six-point lead coming into the break, our ‘Necks absolutely torched the nets in the second half to come away with the blowout win. Seriously: we scored 66 points in the final 20 minutes. That was an offensive clinic at its best.

I had a good feeling about the second half when Cristano got this three hit the rim like 50 times before falling. Sometimes you need some good luck on your side.

A couple possessions later, Floyd Keller came down a ripped another three. We finally had a double-digit lead, and we’d never look back.

It was great to see Keller (15 points) get going from deep. He hit all three of his attempts from beyond the arc.

While we don’t have any clips of the front court from this game, they absolutely deserve credit for the win.

Fray turned in another incredible performance, this one somehow even better than his last. He ended the game with 25 points, 14 rebounds, four assists, three steals, and three blocks on 10-of015 shooting. He didn’t attempt a three (booooo) but he dominated the game on both ends. His front court mate Munoz was almost as good. The senior center finished with 20 points and 16 rebounds. We kept going inside — Munoz and Fray combined for 35 (!) field goal attempts — and they were making the Bama defense pay.

Not the best Bernie Buckets game (9 points on 3-of-10 shooting), but I clipped this shot from the first half, so I might as well embed it here.

Elite Eight, here we come.

The win sets up an Elite Eight matchup against No. 1 seed Indiana

Our run in the NCAA tournament has been a breeze up to this point, but I fear things about to get a lot more difficult. Our plucky No. 6 seed is about to run into one of college basketball’s blue bloods: the top-seeded Indiana Hoosiers.

The Elite Eight has been something of a bugaboo for us. We lost in this round last year. We’ve lost in this round many times before. I don’t want it to happen again.

A Final Four trip is on the line. As always, we’re watching a simulated version of this game; I am not controlling the Leathernecks. Let’s go!

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Loss, 96-86. Oh my gosh. And just like that, our dream of ending this dynasty with a national title is over.

I am devastated. I really thought this team was good enough to send me out on top, but it wasn’t meant to be. The Hoosiers’ outside shooters did us in. Indiana’s guard-heavy lineup caught fire from deep (10-of-21 for 47.6 percent), and our perimeter attack couldn’t keep up. We only hit 6-of-22 (27.3 percent) attempts from three.

What happened to our second half team this time? We were only down two going into halftime, but we were outscored by eight over the final 20 minutes. Tough scene.

There were some solid individual performances. Munoz went out strong with 23 points and 10 rebounds. Bernie Doyle dropped 21 points and hit this three-pointer to keep us in it early.

Floyd Keller just didn’t give us enough on the wing. He shot 1-of-8 from three in the loss. He did give us a little juice in transition, at least.

Cristano played all 40 minutes, and had eight points and nine assists. I really wish I got another year with him as a senior next season.

Unfortunately there is no next season. After 40 years at Western Illinois, our sim dynasty is over. Here are some final numbers on the series:

Final record: 1,177-213

10 national championships (tied with John Wooden for the most in men’s college basketball history)

15 Final Four appearances

25 Sweet 16 appearances

Final NCAA tournament record: 113-27

38 Summit League regular season championships

35 Summit League tournament championships

38 seasons with 20+ wins

61 players drafted

The thing I’m most proud of? After we made the NCAA tournament for the first time in Year 3, we didn’t miss it again the rest of this dynasty.

Is Ricky Charisma the greatest men’s college basketball coach ever?

I think so. Here’s how we stack up to other top coaches in NCAA history in important categories.

Total wins

Ricky Charisma: 1,179

Mike Krzyzewski: 1,170

Jim Boeheim: 1,083

Roy Williams: 903

Bob Knight: 899

Dean Smith: 879

Jim Calhoun: 877

Adolph Rupp: 876

Bob Huggins: 828

Eddie Sutton: 806

Tournament wins

Ricky Charisma: 110

Mike Krzyzewski: 94

Roy Williams: 77

Dean Smith: 65

Jim Boeheim: 57

Tom Izzo: 52

Jim Calhoun: 49

John Wooden: 47

Final Four appearances

Ricky Charisma: 15

Mike Krzyzewski: 12

John Wooden: 12

Dean Smith: 11

Roy Williams: 9

Tom Izzo: 8

Rick Pitino: 7

Denny Crum, Adolph Rupp, John Calipari: 6

Consecutive tournament appearances

Western Illinois: 36

Kansas: 31

North Carolina: 27

Arizona: 25

Duke: 24

Michigan State: 23

Gonzaga: 22

Winning percentage

Ricky Charisma: 84.7

Mark Few: 83.44

Sam Burton: 83.33

Clair Bee: 82.444

Adolph Rupp: 82.1

John Wooden: 80.3

National championships

Ricky Charisma: 10

John Wooden: 10

Mike Krzyzewski: 5

Adolph Rupp: 4

Roy Williams: 3

Jim Calhoun: 3

Bobby Knight: 3

Who is the best player in Western Illinois history?

That’s the big question within the fanbase right now. Before we get to it, let’s look back at our greatest recruiting wins.

We landed five five-star recruits out of the domestic high school ranks during my time at Western Illinois. We also signed nine five-star JUCO recruits, and six five-star international recruits from places like New Zealand (shout-out Dave French), Montenegro (anti shout-out Vitor Andrisevic), France (what up, Kim Kone!), and Cameroon.

The highest-rated recruit in program history was Sammy Yan at No. 10 overall in 2032. He was pretty much a disappointment. The program’s all-time leading scorer was center Vinnie Harmon with 2,452 career points during his career. He was the No. 122 overall recruit and the No. 8 center (those that followed the series or played the game know that centers are always weirded underrated on the recruiting trail).

Here are some more numbers during tournament games only (aka, the games we streamed), from the amazing Leathernecks Database maintained by our fans:

The highest rated player in program history is a tie between small forward Nic Cummings and point guard Duncan Martinez, who are the only players to reach 97 overall. Cummings in particular is a great choice for the GOAT. He ended his career with three national titles, though only one as a starter. He’s top-10 for me, but not No. 1.

The people’s choice for the GOAT is Deke Van, the legendary center who helped carry us to our first national title in Year 8. Deke’s turn from from Year 7 goat to Year 8 GOAT is the most memorable we’ve ever had. We couldn’t have done any of this without you, Deke.

When Coach tell you youre guarding @deke_van https://t.co/RDhmDAPRA8 pic.twitter.com/fm2udgvMZT

— Ryan Thomas (@RTtheSID) May 10, 2020

As the series went on, other great players emerged who finished with gaudier stats and better resumes.

My personal favorite might be Bert Draughan, Mr. Basketball out of Chicago (No. 29 overall recruit), who went on to win a title with us in Year 13 and also starred for our Year 11 team that began the season 35-0 before losing to Michigan State in the Final Four. Harmon is another fine choice. Skip Clemmons helped us win three national titles in Year 23, Year 24, and Year 26. Albert Jagla, Clemmons’ former teammate, played a big role in our first back-to-back championship squad, and is arguably the greatest perimeter bucket-getter in program history.

All-time favorite moment? Impossible to say. The first one that comes to mind is Kim Kone’s go-ahead corner three in the 2024 tournament. Najeeb Goode’s steal vs. UCLA in the Final Four to help us win our second title in Year 13 also stands out. There was also the time superstar power forward Allen Cunningham took off his pants mid-game.

Thank you to everyone who read, watched, and interacted

I started this series on April 11, 2020, a few weeks after the pandemic had shut down all ‘real’ sports. At the time, I was gearing up to cover the 2020 NCAA tournament. That never happened. I had college basketball on my mind, and I always wanted to write something on ‘College Hoops 2K8’, probably my favorite video game ever. This project is what came of it.

I had no idea if anyone was going to read this. I definitely did not think I’d finish out all 40 years like a complete lunatic. I didn’t think I’d write the equivalent of multiple books in terms of total word count.

Just before I dropped the first post in the series, I tweeted this:

Got a real dumb blog post coming

— Ricky O'Donnell (@SBN_Ricky) April 11, 2020

I wrote around 70 posts in the series, counting the inaugural Hall of Fame induction (read a big Deke Van retrospective at that link) and two posts of my Deke Van x Seattle Supersonics spin-off. I’m estimating I wrote 200,000 words in this series. That’s about the length of “The Fellowship of the Ring.”

I still can’t believe everything that came from this series. The Washington Post wrote a profile on it. I went on WGN TV and did a few radio spots promoting it. We sold a Deke Van t-shirt with Homefield Apparel. Our series inspired a new friend in Japan named Thanh Nguyen to write a pair of e-books adding greater depth to our story. Friend of the program Mike Rutherford did an amazing hype video for our first championship run. When I moved the series to Substack for a few months, more than 7,000 people signed up for email updates and still remain. Our first Twitch stream for the Year 8 Final Four drew more than 7,000 total viewers, and had 2,500 concurrent viewers on it at as we were closing out the win. On SB Nation, the series has been viewed more than 500K times.

What really made the project special was always the community around it. Some quick shout-outs:

The Leathernecks Database is an amazing companion to this series. You can lost in there. Thank you to the diehards to helped maintain it, and reader Evan for starting it.

Thanks to my guy who started the Leathernecks Nation instagram fan page and whoever is behind the wondrous fake Deke Van twitter account.

Thanks to everyone in the Discord who maintained ‘Necks discussion always and forever.

Thank the diehards that came out for every Twitch stream. I don’t want to name names because I’ll forget someone, but you know who you are. I love you all. I also want to thank the readers for keeping up with the recaps, and everyone who emailed me feedback throughout the series. I also want to thank my buddy Scott for introducing me to the game and running through multiple 40-year dynasties with me way before I ever considered blogging through it like this. This series would not exist without him.

What a ride it’s been. As I sim through to the end of the calendar, I’m greeted with this message.

Thank you, everyone. Go ‘Necks.

[bqstqnbruin]

Mystery Man

Apparently I had a habit of writing things over the summer, finishing them, and then forgetting about them, because this is something I had in my Google Drive that was last edited in August so that’s fun (I also low key like having gifs with my stuff now so that might become a regular thing).

But this could go one of two ways: either it ends where it does and I would be fine with that, or I write more because I have a little bit more but it sucks and turn this into something with multi-parts, so let me know what you want! ______________

“If you need me, I’ll be on the couch, underneath a mountain of blankets for the foreseeable future,” you tell your roommate, walking to the living room to drown yourself in a sea of softness.

“You’re really taking this do-nothing weekend thing to heart, aren’tcha?” she asked you, getting up from the kitchen table to follow you

“Extreme self-care, bitch.” “Ok. No. Not tonight. You can do that shit tomorrow.” she tells you, dragging you by the arm and walking to your room. “You have not been out in months, and you cannot sit there and complain about how you don’t have a boyfriend and want one when all you do is watch reruns of the Bachelorette and swipe on guys on Tinder that you don’t talk to.”  “I know that, but hey!” you said, doing your mediocre John Mulaney impression.

“Let’s go do something tonight! Then tomorrow we can come home to not having lives and binge TV shows and eat food all day together,” she suggests, shoving you into your room. She stands at your closet, throwing outfits at you. “There’s that bar that we’ve been talking about going to someday, let’s make someday today.” Before you could say no, she had your favorite romper out for you, and she decided that she was going to take one of your shirts and pair it with the jeans that made her butt look great. “Do your makeup, I’ll be back in ten.” Even though you had no desire to go, you started doing your makeup, knowing she was right. What was the harm of flirting with a few guys and getting them to buy you drinks? It’s not like you had to see them again if you didn’t want to. Plus, you had spent almost every weekend lately just sitting in your apartment instead of going out and meeting people. You complained about knowing no one but your roommate, and all you really wanted was some nice male attention. What could go wrong?

 ---

“Ugh, shit!” you say as someone spills their drink all over you. “No this is my favorite outfit!” You meet eyes with the stranger who just spilled something all over you. Wow. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a more beautiful man in your life. Granted, you were slightly drunk, so at the moment, you found everyone more attractive now than you would find them while sober. He had beautiful blue eyes, short brown hair, was built like a Greek God. Again, you were drunk, so were you really seeing this guy as he actually was? 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, grabbing napkins for you to dry yourself off, “Let me get you a new one. What was it?” 

“Oh no, it’s fine, that was my last drink of the night. If anything, I’ll get water.” If you were one thing when drunk, it was hydrated.

He leaves for a second as you start to dry yourself off. Your roommate comes over to you, wide-eyed with two drinks in hand, “He’s gorgeous, oh my god. I wouldn’t be mad if he came home tonight.” she says, starting to spill her drink on the floor.

“Jesus!” you say, trying to dodge it, “He just spilled my drink on me, I don’t need you spilling yours on me, too.”

“Why are you standing over here when he’s over there giving you those ‘longing eyes’ we read about in those crappy romance novels. Go to him!” She says, spinning you around, spilling her drinks on your shoulders. At this point, you were covered in something sticky, what was a little more? That’s what laundry was for, anyway. 

You go over to the beautiful mystery man to find him already talking to another girl. If you were sober, this wouldn’t bother you, but it sure does when you’re drunk. You turn to the nearest alone guy you can find, “Buy me a drink?” The confused and wide-eyed drunk man does what you ask him too. You turn around to see mystery man looking right at me, ignoring whatever it is the girl is saying. You can’t help but be petty and wave at him, smirking as you turn to the guy handing you another beer. You normally aren’t like this, but something about that guy made you want to get his attention. 

Something is different about him.

“So, uh, do I at least get to know your name if I bought you a drink?” the guy slurs out.. You definitely weren’t really trying to have a conversation with him, but at least you knew the mystery guy couldn’t keep his eyes off you. 

Your roommate runs back up to you, pulling you away from the drink guy, “C’mon, that’s not the right guy!” The way you’re facing her, Mystery Man is in your sightline. The girl is practically begging for his attention and he’s giving her none of it. You’re pretty sure that if you approached him, he would just blow her off.

But is that the kind of person you are? Sober? No. Drunk? Maybe. 

“Give me a minute,” you say, walking over to him. 

As soon as he sees you approaching, he leaves the other girl. She didn’t even seem to care, she just turned to the next guy and started talking to him.

“Wow, looks like you’re popular here, aren’t you?” Mystery Man says, “I thought you were only going to have water.” 

“I was planning on it, but you were also planning on getting me a drink anyway, weren’t you?” 

“Guilty.” He says, shrugging, running his free hand through his hair. 

“If you’re not going to get me a drink can I at least get your name?” You ask him.

“Mitch.”

You spend the rest of the night with him, dancing and drinking. He even walked you and your roommate home. Something was special about this boy, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

“Is he coming in with us? Because if you don’t want him, I’ll take him,” your roommate says, within earshot and definitely loud enough for him to hear it.

“Uh, if you would like me to come in, I will,” he says. He and you were both sober by the time you got back to your place. Your roommate, however, was going to be majorly hungover in the morning. 

“Sure, but don’t count on seeing my room just yet if that’s what you’re expecting,” you tell him, opening your door into your living room. You’ll make out with someone, but you aren’t going to sleep with someone when you don’t know them. Not that you go out enough to do that; most of your nights involve you underneath the mountain of blankets you were planning on burying yourself under when the night started. 

The rest of the night was spent with you and Mitch telling each other about yourselves. Around four in the morning, you interrupt him, “Wait, I know why I know you.”

His eyes widen like he was worried about you finding out who you are. “What do you mean?” “This entire night, besides me thinking how attractive you are if I’m being honest, I was trying to figure out why you looked familiar. Aren’t you an athlete or something? You play, what, baseball?” You know it’s not basketball, you are a die-hard Raptors fan and know the roster and other teams better than you know your family. 

“Uh, no. I play hockey. I play for the Maple Leafs? I’m Mitch Marner?”

“Yeah, see, I like hockey, but I don’t understand any of it. Maybe that’s why you look familiar, my brothers played hockey and they love the Boston Bruins.” 

“Ah, fuck, you’re a Boston fan?” he looks genuinely worried. 

“I don’t really care. I guess for hockey I might be because of the family, but basketball and baseball I’m a Toronto fan,” you admit. You didn’t really care about anything but basketball. Hockey honestly meant nothing to you.

But you couldn’t tell him that. If he plays for the Maple Leafs, then obviously hockey is his life. And he’s attractive and sweet. You can’t let a guy like this get away that easy.

[soranihimawari]

are you serious?

estranged friends to lovers featuring this lovely dude ^ and thanks to some meddling from both sides of their lives, miya atsumu finds out that maybe he should date you. after all, what are you going to do once msby guys see you on the evening news when you make the cut to be the vice captain of the ladies beach vbc olympic team?

warnings: none yet, so sfw for now ;]

+ note: will make this a weekly series if i get enough notes eventually

tagging: @m0nstergeneration20xx​

is it serious? --osamu

[[1 new photo]]

those three words illuminate underneath the backlight of his phone screen. the blips play at the strings of his heart. the run-in at the gym was completely by accident and truthfully you weren’t expecting the glow up fairy to fuck with both of your perceptions of the other. both of your posture changes from confusion to flirtatious the moment his eyes illuminate with the recognition.

“who’s your friend atsumu-san?” 

you divert your attention to the rest of the rookie teammates while you nod your head acknowledging the oncoming arrival of the other members of the MSBY team. you rapidly exchange greetings and names in an efficient manner. 

“i should go. seems like you want to celebrate,” your tone is honey incarnate causing even the ones under the medi-masks to absorb your warmth. “see ya miya-chan.”

when you wave over your shoulder, you shake your head wondering if your heartbeat would stop nervously beating out of rhythm because you caught yourself walking away from the afterglow. 

at the restaurant the lads usually buy dinner after another successful victory, the topic of conversation circles back around again to the mystery stranger who had a connection with their starting setter. the team dinner was an idea that everyone including meian thought would be good to have at least once (or twice) a month. 

“she’s an old friend,” he bashfully admits. 

“that makes you look like a lovesick war hero?” their libero busts his pride a little.

“it’s nothing like that,” bokuto defends, “right?”

miya shrugs and their captain pieces the information together for the rest of the team after being there many times himself before he had settled down with his lady.

“she was your almost,” meian states matter of factly. their ears perk up including atsumu who just stared at his captain registering the word in his head. 

“you two seemed pretty close when we arrived,” meian continues. “call it a hunch, but you shouldn’t throw away fate’s design ‘tsum.”

the television in the restaurant moves on to it’s countdown for the upcoming olympics. it creates a certain ambiance of familiarity at the family style restaurant which the team are frequent customers.

“and in other news, seems like the women’s beach volleyball roster has officially been announced,” the anchor says. there is a wide angle shot of the beach courts on the coast of Okinawa.

“Holy shit,” bokuto says and it’s the only time meian allows his team to use such language at their dinner. your sporadic movements on the sand court makes for insane sets for your teammates on the court. 

“their young vice captain makes her presence known as her teammate sets the ball to ‘the missile,’ and wow! a clean pipe that proves why the name stuck in the underground leagues. and you can catch up with the rest of the beach volleyball team when the summer games begin next month. now back to you guys in the studio!”

“fuck me, she’s probably more dangerous than omi-san,” meian says finally. atsumu just scoffs at the compliment because he knew there were other monsters in the world, but none that made him more nervous than you. 

...

“are you for real?” your roommate exclaims. you tell her about the run-in on the street and she flips. you could of told her you saw the Almighty and she would have an easier time believing that.

“did you at least get his contact info?”

“no! of course not,” you answer with a strained voice. “besides, he hears the banter of his fans everyday, so what difference does it make if he has my number or vice versa.”

“because those compliments came from the vice captain of team japan women’s beach volleyball?”

you laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. after all, you were also watching the news story that was filmed last week tonight with her on the couch. in your wine glasses, you both share the last bit of blueberry powerade because you wanted to be sober in case you’d have to talk to the boy who christened you with the nickname one fall evening in hyogo. sure you were first years, but the bitterness of rivals with clashing styles on the court proved to be a little challenging especially since your schools respectfully had their golden week of training at the same resort.

“your phone is going to start ringing soon,” your friend shares a laugh with you. and usually she’s not wrong, but then again, her closest ally was sitting with her telling her the story of the nickname. the familiar chime of your phone going off caused her to only laugh harder before she watches you scramble to answer.

you shut your door the moment she yells, “no fucking between nine a.m. and five p.m.!”

clearly the other person on the line starts laughing hearing the voice clear as day before he clears his throat. atsumu is finally in the comfort of his own home in his side of the city. he asked his seniors if anyone had a way to contact you, so you were surprised the social media team readily gave him the phone number. funnily enough, it was the same one you had scribbled down on the back of an ice pop receipt.

“you didn’t change your contact number,” he states. 

“neither did you,” you said. a half rest of silence comes over you both, but he speaks first again. 

“i saw the news tonight with the team.”

“you guys have team dinners? that’s cute.”

you flirtatious remark didn’t go unnoticed, so atsumu decides to hit you with a genuine compliment. it’s the first thought that came to mind when you were younger due to the run in you had with each other at the bathhouse.

“you’re cute.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t quite catch that miya-senshu. i think you called me cute?”

“i-i...ugh yeah.”

“pfft. if this is you flirting with me, i’d say you are doing a lot better than most of my flings.”

“listen, the guys are going to have my head if i don’t follow through with this, so will ya--”

“meet me at roppengi station at seven tomorrow morning. dress casual.”

there was something in the way you had asked atsumu out in a charming manner he wholeheartedly agrees. after your conversation wraps up, you go about your evening plans of talking with your roommate who is beyond thrilled to tease you about a long-overdue date. 

atsumu stares the at clock on his phone before turning on his side thanking his captain for giving him an extra day off from practice tomorrow. according to the way meian explains it simply to their athletic trainer was that their starting setter needed a personal day.

you meet at the appointed location after much deliberation of wearing and you often quote your roommate’s line of, “you need your best ‘professional’ revenge outfit babs.” now that you see what she means as you spot the athlete you bumped into yesterday: long sleeve mocha graphic shirt with the designer house logo stitched on paired with tapered casual friday pants. you on the other hand, are a splash of dark academia styled clothing with sensible shoes.

“and here i thought about leaving you behind on my adventure,” you muse as atsumu gives you a once over. he was over analyzing your silhouette as the rust belt flecks in your eyes decide to taunt him. all his life, he had trouble not focusing on anything other than volleyball related (aside from school work and such), but now he had a transient lady friend look up at him like he was not the local playboy prince of the volleyball club.

“i’d bet good money you wouldn’t because no one would want to hear about me missing morning practice because of a covert date with ya,” he sees the way your eyes narrow a smidge. he knows this stare; he’s seen it before at the training camp because of someone making a snide remark about your financial situation at home. you lead him down the platform and when you board the standing room only train, you both stare at your reflection in the window. your stop is not longer than fifteen minutes away, but you allow atsumu to hold you steady with one hand on your waist and the other on the rail above him. you fill him in on the tour you’re planning to take him down to the shopping district where you know people would go about their days not realizing who they were (celebrity athletes).

“you two look good together, isn’t that right hue?” 

“thank you granny,” you said with a smile at the elderly woman who sits a few rows to your left. her husband nods with a funny smile. you really sell it with the way you place your hand over the one he has on your waist when the traini comes to a stop. 

you and atsumu, once you make it to the surface head into the east village where you see the local trattorias begin setting their outdoor seating arrangements and one of the servers stops you both asking if you’d like to part take in a taste testing for his family’s restaurant.

“senpai’s amazing,” the server says like it’s the easiest answer he ever had to say. “she paid for auntie’s medicine last time she visited here. you really are lucky to be on a date with her.”

after your orders are put in, atsumu decides for once to not be a complete jackass, somewhere sakusa runs into a butterfly and he chuckles to himself because it means someone was using their brain properly. and in the quiet hours of a local village fifteen minutes away by train, a miya twin is falling back in love with his date one minute at a time. 

“are you ok atsumu?” you ask as you pour some apple juice from the carafe into your glass. it was then you had your epiphany the moment he asks you if you’d like to visit his brother’s store on a dinner date before you head out for the taping of the opening ceremonies. 

“i’d like that,” you reply. “but let’s make it through this one first, mmk?”

“good because i couldn’t look you in the eye if ya said no star-chan.”

“star-chan?”

you lean back in your chair and tilt your head to the side in thought. your brows furrow together a bit confused by the nickname therefore atsumu enlightens you to the best compliment anyone had given you (in your young adult life):

“because i finally see what meian says when he says he loves the sunspot in his life,” he sheepishly admits. you can tell he was being sincere when you glance at the way he becomes more flustered when you encourage him to hold your gaze for a few seconds.

“seven out of ten,” you say with a rosey lilt in your tone. at this, your companion at the table leans in clearly annoyed with your score. “but given the fact that you’re here with me now at eight twenty on your day off, and the smoothness of that confession, you’re clearly a nine overall because i highly doubt you’re not going to let me go again, right?”

he nods. he finally replies to his message from earlier last week from his brother after taking a self-ca with you on the promenade before you head back to the train station around two in the afternoon.

yeah ‘samu. you could say i am.

[[1 new photo]]

[medea10]

My Review of Eromanga Sensei

Huh? Darker Than Black?! Wait, isn't that a FUNimation title? FUNIMATION DUMPED THIS IN 2016. Aniplex has rights now. Of course they would. Okay. Darker Than Black it is.

[welcometothepenumbra]

PETER NUREYEV AND THE ANGEL OF BRAHMA (PART TWO)

CONCIERGE: Welcome back, Traveler, to Part Two of Peter Nureyev and the Angel of Brahma. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the tale. Or else.

***

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING. DISTANT AMBIENT ECHOES.

NUREYEV: Good morning, Juno. Did you sleep well?

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t open my eyes for a minute. So long as I kept them closed I could imagine I was somewhere else. In a hotel room at one of those hot springs on Venus, maybe, or just in my apartment, waking up at noon on a Tuesday with a killer headache and Nureyev… there too.

I opened my eyes. No spa, no apartment. Just the holding cell Miasma had prepared for us. Couple of bedrolls in a Martian burial chamber.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

JUNO: How long was I out this time?

NUREYEV: Careful, don’t sit up so quickly. You’ve taken quite the hit to… wherever that thing hits you.

JUNO: (PAINED) I’m alright. Just gimme a sec—

NUREYEV: Shhhhh. Lie down again.

JUNO: I said I’m fine, damn it! Just—

SOUND: RUSTLING.

—turn down the walls, wouldya? They’re… they’re so damn loud; every time I look at ‘em my eyes try to make a break for it.

NUREYEV: Yes, those carvings are… unsettling, aren’t they? The writings of an extinct species: symbols and even ideas from minds millions of years gone.

JUNO: I don’t care what they say, those damn things give my heebies jeebies.

Hell were they writing in a burial chamber, anyway? The guy’s dead; it’s not like he’s gonna get up and read all their bad poetry anytime soon.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

NUREYEV: Now that you mention it, Juno… I’m not certain this is a burial chamber.

JUNO: There’s a coffin right there.

NUREYEV: The dangers of looking from one culture to another. It looks to us to be a coffin, but these carvings suggest otherwise. This set of drawings shows the box in use: one Martian is placed in the box; they seal the lid; and when they open it again: two Martians exit.

JUNO: Glad to know stage magicians were alive and well in ancient Mars.

NUREYEV: These carvings… they’re the best-preserved I’ve ever seen. I didn’t know there were any drawings of the ancient Martians, yet here they are. Miasma must have found this tomb and kept it a secret. These symbols, here…

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

A single Martian body; it spreads, its hands reaching to either side; a gap begins to form, and then—

JUNO: Ugh. Stop it.

NUREYEV: Fascinating. They reproduced asexually, by splitting. This isn’t a burial chamber – it’s a birthing chamber.

JUNO: Eww.

NUREYEV: You’ve taken a rather aggressive disinterest in these Martians, Juno. Aren’t you supposed to be a detective? Hunting down mysteries, exploring the unexplored…

JUNO: It’s enough trouble trying to figure out why people do what they do. I don’t have time to worry about a bunch of supersized germs a million years dead.

NUREYEV: They scare you, don’t they?

JUNO: Swinggggg and a miss. Haven’t been scared of ghosts since I turned thirty-seven.

NUREYEV: If they killed each other off, you wonder—

JUNO: Stop it.

NUREYEV: What’s keeping humanity from doing the same?

JUNO: I said stop it!

SOUND: RUSTLING. FOOTSTEPS.

NUREYEV: Juno… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.

Come back. Sit down. Don’t walk away.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And then it hit me all over again. That red room. Mag, with the huge owl-eyes. Nureyev. The knife.

NUREYEV: (ECHOING) Don’t… walk away from me! …I’ll do it! I swear I will!

JUNO (NARRATOR): A murderer. A monster.

NUREYEV: Juno? What’s wrong?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: I-I just… (CLEARS THROAT) Nothing, I’m fine.

NUREYEV: You hardly look—

JUNO: You wanna get your hands off me?! This isn’t a goddamn honeymoon suite.

NUREYEV: …Alright.

JUNO: So how are we gonna get out of here, anyway? Master of break-ins isn’t worth much if he can’t break out.

NUREYEV: We’ll escape when the opportunity presents itself. No guard patrol is perfect; this one will make a mistake eventually.

JUNO: Only question is whether that mistake happens before or after we’re dead.

NUREYEV: We’ll survive. We’ve never failed yet.

JUNO: The hell do you call this, then?

NUREYEV: A momentary inconvenience.

JUNO: God damn it, would you just… knock it off!

NUREYEV: Knock what off, Juno?

JUNO: I don’t know! Just cut it out!

NUREYEV: (SIGHS)

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

JUNO: Back off.

NUREYEV: No, I think I’ll sit right here.

Juno, I thought I heard Miasma ask you something. Something I’ve asked you before.

About how you could have looked me up any time you wanted to.

JUNO: I know.

NUREYEV: So. Why didn’t you?

JUNO (NARRATOR): We’d been in that tomb for days. We’d hardly slept, hardly eaten. Miasma had done everything in her power to break us.

And then I looked at him, and… those eyes. Even in this cave underground, they were so bright.

How the hell did he do it? Stay so bright through all of this?

JUNO: I was scared, okay? Scared I might find… aughhhh.

NUREYEV: Afraid you might find something you couldn’t forgive?

JUNO: If it turned out you were a monster��� like if you’d done something really unforgivable. What would I do?

NUREYEV: It sounds terrible. To be a detective with the key to a mystery in your hands… and too full of fear to turn it.

Well. What if we solved that mystery now? Together.

JUNO: Look you up? Sorry, I don’t think I’m gonna get a good comms signal ten miles underground.

NUREYEV: We don’t need the comms. You have an uplink right here.

JUNO: You want me to look through your memories?

NUREYEV: You can’t run from my past forever, Juno.

JUNO: You sure about that? I’ve been doin’ some cardio lately and I think I’m gettin’ pretty quick—

NUREYEV: You’ll discover it all eventually. There’s no getting around that. So… look through my memories now. Then decide whether Peter Nureyev’s baggage is worth your time. Or if you and I part ways, once all this is done.

JUNO: Nureyev…

NUREYEV: The choice is yours – but, I’d rather you made it now.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to know. But… I had to know. Comes with the territory, in my line of work: get too curious for your own good, poke your nose in where you shouldn’t, and if you hurt yourself along the way, well, maybe you’ll live to lick those wounds later.

JUNO: (SIGHS) Alright. Let’s do it.

NUREYEV: Excellent. Only… Juno?

JUNO: Yeah?

NUREYEV: When they brought you in, your face… there was so much blood, and…

JUNO: Yeah, yeah, I got it under control. Let’s just get it over with, alright?

NUREYEV: Alright.

Now, um… how does this work, exactly? Do we say a magic word, or something like that?

JUNO: You shut up and let me concentrate, mostly.

NUREYEV: Ah. Will do.

JUNO: And… (SIGHS) Just try to clear your mind. Or whatever. I guess.

NUREYEV: (CHUCKLES)

JUNO (NARRATOR): It was almost easy by now. I closed my eyes. I let my mind reach out to touch his. I felt for the handle.

In the distance, back where my body was, I felt a set of slender fingers close over mine.

I opened the door.

SOUND: STRANGE HUM STARTS, STOPS.

MAG: (WHISPERING) This should be the central security room. Now, Pete: the plan?

NUREYEV: (WHISPERING) Make it to the Guardian Angel System’s core, steal the reactor that powers it, and make our getaway. But I still don’t see how we’re supposed to get from here to the Core with all of those security cameras—

MAG: Hush, hush. You think I don’t have another trick up my sleeve? For shame, Peter. Lesson one of thieving: a security camera is an obstacle, yes, but it has one glaring weakness: it sees.

NUREYEV: This is a very inconvenient time for you to go senile, Mag.

MAG: I think you’ll understand in a moment. Now, prepare yourself. You’re going into this security office and taking care of the constables on your own.

NUREYEV: I’m what?!

MAG: Bon voyage, Pete!

SOUND: DOOR OPENS. SOFT THUD. DOOR CLOSES.

VOICE 3: D– did you hear that?

VOICE 4: Sounds like it came from around the corner. Probably just another supermaggot. I’ll take care of it.

NUREYEV: (WHISPERING) Damn it, damn it! Mag, what in the hell do you expect me to—

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

When trouble arises… I disappear.

SOUND: CHOKING, GASPING. THUD.

VOICE 3: So? Did you take care of the… who the hell—

SOUND: WET THUD, GRUNTING, THUD.

NUREYEV: (SIGHS) Alright, Mag. The room’s clear.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, CLOSES.

MAG: And in record time! Incredible, Pete! Your fingers always were quicker than mine.

NUREYEV: Care to explain why I wasn’t privy to this part of the plan?

MAG: You’re learning on the job, my boy, and half of expert burglary is reacting on the fly. So just call me “the fly.”

NUREYEV: No.

MAG: Now take that constable’s clothes. I’ll take the one by the door.

NUREYEV: How can you be so sure that they’ll… fit.

This constable is exactly my size.

MAG: And this one is my size! Fancy that! Ha-ha! Lesson one of thieving, Pete: you can do anything with unlimited access to a digital work schedule and complete roster of all employees.

NUREYEV: Including getting them to deliver you exactly the uniforms you want, so that we can pass through the security cameras.

MAG: Precisely. Now, move out of the way and pay attention. I’m going to show you how to work a security console.

During my tour with Rossignol, I was able to get the security camera image of every room in this compound…

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

…except for one. There were several cameras pointed at that door, but none showing what lies on the other side of it. So what’s the only conclusion to be drawn?

NUREYEV: It’s a bathroom?

MAG: Of course not—

Well. Hadn’t thought of that.

NUREYEV: Mag!

MAG: Well, we’ll find out shortly, won’t we? Think of this as a learning experience. You’ll have a very short career as a thief if you don’t keep learning.

NUREYEV: Mag, what do you plan to do after all this?

MAG: Enjoying life without the constant fear of being murdered by the sky is fairly high on my list.

NUREYEV: You know what I mean. What’s next for Peter and Mag?

MAG: Well, Pete, I suppose what you do is entirely up to what you want to do. All jokes aside, I think I… might want to retire.

NUREYEV: (SCOFFS) Retire? You? I don’t believe it. Someone would have to chain you to a resort planet first.

MAG: Well, perhaps, but… I’ve been at this a long time, Pete.

NUREYEV: Well, I certainly won’t be retiring. I’ve hardly gotten started, and I want to be big, Mag, the biggest. I want everyone to know who I am. I want the wealthy to fear me and those in need to call for me. I want—

MAG: Whoa, whoa! Save some future for later, would you? We still have a job to do in the now, boy.

NUREYEV: Right. Sorry.

MAG: Don’t be, don’t be. I’m just as excited for that day as you are, Pete – I expect reading your name in all the papers will be the crowning achievement of my very accomplished career.

There. We’re in the system. I have access to the video feed from the other side of that blind door. Now we can prepare for what lies on the other side…

SOUND: BEEP.

Four armed constables. Wonderful.

NUREYEV: Let me guess: “Lesson one of thieving: never go in outnumbered?”

MAG: Well, this must be an outpost before the final room. Four guards is… extensive.

NUREYEV: But… not undoable. Can you shut down their communications with this security device?

MAG: Absolutely.

NUREYEV: As long as we ensure that no more can enter once we’ve started, we should be able to incapacitate them in this order…

JUNO (NARRATOR): (OVER THE ABOVE) Nureyev walked Mag through the whole process. Now, speaking as a guy who’s made a career of getting into trouble completely outnumbered, it was a good plan. Better than I could’ve come up with. And from the look in Mag’s eyes, better than he could’ve come up with, too. They talked it through a few times and made their way to the door.

NUREYEV: (WHISPERING) Ready?

MAG: (WHISPERING) Ready.

NUREYEV: (WHISPERING) Alright. In 3… 2… 1…

SOUND: DOOR OPENS. SLOW FOOTSTEPS. DOOR CLOSES.

VOICE 5: (YAWNING) Is it time for the shift change already?

VOICE 6: It isn’t. What’s going on? You two don’t have clear— (YELPS)

SOUND: THUD.

VOICE 5: Call for help—! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: PUNCHES, WET THUDS, GASPS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

VOICE 7: This is Wilkins, reporting in! We’ve got a situation down in… hello?

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

You… you cut the signal, didn’t you?

NUREYEV: Pray that’s the only thing we cut today, sir.

VOICE 7 [WILKINS]: D– don’t move! You can kill me if you want, but… but I’m not lettin’ you through here!

MAG: Well, I think you’re a bit confused about how killing works.

NUREYEV: Mag! The plan!

MAG: But I suppose this is not the time. (SIGHS) Alright, alright, my hands are up. I suppose you’ll want us to call off our third comrade, then?

WILKINS: Your what?

MAG: Our compatriot? Colleague? Coworker? I’m having difficulty understanding your difficulty, sir.

WILKINS: Where are they?

MAG: Where else? Right behind you.

WILKINS: (GASPS) I-I can’t believe I fell for… where– where’d the other one go?

MAG: Oh, the friend I came in here with? He’s an interesting one. Very impressive. When trouble arises, he just… disappears.

WILKINS: Where are you? Show yourself!

MAG: One minute, he’s there; the next, he’s taken off. One minute, your head is there; the next, he’s taken it off.

WILKINS: Stop, stop!

MAG: I’ll give you a piece of advice, if you like: he always strikes from above.

WILKINS: Up… up in the ceiling? Where? I don’t see— (YELPS)

SOUND: THUMP, GRUNT.

MAG: Well done, well done! Posing as a corpse. Master of disappearances, my Peter Nureyev!

NUREYEV: Well, I learned from the second-best.

MAG: Very funny. Now, shall we deal with the reactor?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. DOOR OPENS, CLOSES.

NUREYEV: So this is it. The core of the Guardian Angel System.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The room was a big metal cylinder, stretching up so high that the ceiling was lost in shadow. Sticky red light clung to every surface. In the center of the room stood a huge transparent column, and within the column, glowing softly, floated—

MUSIC: STARTS.

MAG: The reactor. Look at it. Untold lives, like your father’s, taken by the lightning bolts of this self-proclaimed god. We destroy a deity today, Pete.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Now, to unlock the reactor…

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

NUREYEV: That music… we must be just below the square.

I think I remember that place, Mag. When we were up there, I-I swear, I remembered… something.

MAG: A memory? Really?

NUREYEV: I… think so. But not like any other memory I’ve had. Just… a feeling.

MAG: Peter, it will really be best if you forget all of this about the square, hm? You’ll sleep better.

NUREYEV: Forget? How am I supposed to forget the city I was born in?

MAG: (GROWLS)

SOUND: BEEPS.

COMPUTER VOICE: Reactor shield disengaged.

MAG: This is it. The ship I’ve arranged for us should be waiting outside once the shields go down. Are you ready to make our big getaway?

NUREYEV: …Wait. What do you mean, “sleep better?”

MAG: I’m grabbing the reactor. Get ready to run.

SOUND: CANISTER UNSEALS. LID CLOSES.

COMPUTER VOICE: Warning: Levitation reactor disengaged. New Kinshasa will fall in—

MAG: Go!

COMPUTER VOICE: —approximately ten minutes.

NUREYEV: What did that just say?

COMPUTER VOICE: Warning—

MAG: Our death sentence, if we don’t leave now!

COMPUTER VOICE: —evacuate. Evacuate. Evacuate.

NUREYEV: New Kinshasa is going to fall? Crash into Brahma, with all of these people on it?!

MAG: That was always the plan, Pete!

NUREYEV: You said we were going to stop the weapon!

MAG: I said we were going to take down New Kinshasa!

NUREYEV: I didn’t think you meant literally!

COMPUTER VOICE: Levitation power at ninety-five percent.

NUREYEV: We can’t do this! If my father risked his life to keep people free, Mag, I don’t think he’d want you destroying his home!

MAG: What’s gotten into you today, Pete? I feel as though… I don’t even know who you are!

NUREYEV: I’m home for the first time! I could have family here! You can’t just take it away from me after one day, there has to be another way—

MAG: Peter, stop this nonsense! You couldn’t possibly remember New Kinshasa!

NUREYEV: Why not? I lived here with my father, you said so, and if he—

MAG: Oh, for God’s sakes, there’s no time for this. You can’t remember New Kinshasa because you’ve never been here before!

NUREYEV: I… what? But… you said��� m-my father…

MAG: I said your father was a great man, and I meant it. To make you, he would have to be.

NUREYEV: Have to be…

You never really met him, did you? You just… made it all up. You lied to me for years.

MAG: I may have said things that I invented, Pete, but I have never lied to you. Everything, everything I’ve said… it’s all been in service of the truth. New Kinshasa has to be stopped. That is absolute. For life to be worth living for those down below, this city has to be destroyed.

NUREYEV: But… why would you lie? People already think it’s terrible, they know it has to be stopped, they—

MAG: I lied because of how you’re acting this moment, Pete! Because in the face of uncertainty, a revolution crumbles. History is complicated. Facts take years, decades to prove absolutely, and in the meantime, people are killed.

Did I ever know your father? No. Am I certain there was a man like him, somewhere on Brahma? Completely. And I know that there will be more like him if we don’t stop this city now.

NUREYEV: And… you’re certain there’s no other way to do this, then?

MAG: Absolutely.

NUREYEV: How am I supposed to believe that, Mag? If you’ll lie, if you’ll say anything to prove your truth, how do I know this isn’t a lie, too?

MAG: Peter—

NUREYEV: We can’t do this. Even if it isn’t my home, it’s someone’s, and I won’t destroy it. Put that reactor back, and we’ll find another way.

MAG: And how long will that take? How many more deaths?

COMPUTER VOICE: Levitation power at ninety percent.

MAG: That’s enough. We can talk about this later. We’ve wasted enough time already.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

NUREYEV: Mag, come back! You are not taking that reactor away from here!

MAG: I’m sorry you’re upset, but you’ll understand, Pete. You’ll understand.

NUREYEV: I said you aren’t leaving!

SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING.

MAG: Really, Pete? You’d draw a knife on me?

NUREYEV: Bring it back.

MAG: The man who pulled you off the streets. Who raised you.

NUREYEV: The reactor, Mag! Now!

MAG: …I won’t.

I stand for something, Pete. I thought you were the same.

Here’s something else I stand for, Peter: I won’t draw a knife on my family. Do what you like. But I will not strike back.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

NUREYEV: Don’t… walk away from me! …I’ll do it! I swear I will!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

(GASPING) Haaaah!

SOUND: WET THUD, GRUNT, CLATTERING.

MAG: (GASPING)

SOUND: RUSTLING.

Oh, Peter… oh, my boy.

SOUND: CLUNK. RUSTLING.

(GASPS)

NUREYEV: (AFTER A PAUSE) Mag… oh, Mag, Mag…

The reactor.

SOUND: CLANKING. RUNNING FOOTSTEPS. CANISTER OPENS, LID CLOSES.

COMPUTER VOICE: Reactor restored. Levitation power regenerating.

NUREYEV: There. It’s fixed. All… fixed… no. Alright. You have to do something, Peter. You have to do something. But… what? What the hell do I do?

VOICE 3: (DISTANT) They went this way! They must be in the core!

VOICE 6: (DISTANT) But… why would they put the reactor back?

VOICE 3: (DISTANT) It doesn’t matter! Arm up and get ready to take them down!

NUREYEV: It could be so easy. Just wait for the guards to take you out… and let that be the end of Peter Nureyev.

The… end of Peter Nureyev…

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

VOICE 3: Hands up!

VOICE 6: We got another body on the floor!

VOICE 3: I said put your hands up!

NUREYEV: They’re up, they’re up. There’s no need to shout.

VOICE 3: I’ll scan him and look him up. You check his pockets.

VOICE 6: Got it. Drop the knife, kid.

NUREYEV: If that’s what you want…

SOUND: CLATTERS.

Though I’m afraid the knife is the least of your worries. You can’t take away the most powerful weapon in my arsenal, after all: my anonymity.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

VOICE 3: Don’t get too used to that, buddy. Census database says his name is… Peter Nureyev. I’m callin’ it in.

NUREYEV: You may have found a name, constable, but I’m afraid it won’t be worth much to you. A name is but a signifier of the past, and the past is behind us. But as for the future…

Officer, in my pocket you should find a pen. I recommend you take dictation with it. I’ve a message to deliver.

VOICE 6: You can make whatever statements you want at the Constabulary.

NUREYEV: Today I’ve demonstrated that I can destroy New Kinshasa. Today, I’ve decided to let it continue floating. For now.

Pay attention, constables, because this is the important part: every time you fire a laser from this city, know that I come that much closer to destroying it. Know that I can do so whenever I please. Know that I will always be among you, that I could be anywhere, anyone, for I have no name, no past, no identity, and I never will again.

It’s plain and simple, constables. You cannot catch what you cannot name. With no identity, I’ve nothing to tie me down. And so, when trouble arises, I can just… disappear.

VOICE 3: Shut him up, already!

SOUND: PUNCH.

VOICE 6: Oof!

SOUND: HISS.

VOICE 3: (COUGHING) Where the hell… where’d all the smoke come from? Damn it, he’s getting away! Stop him, stop him!

JUNO (NARRATOR): He made it out, of course. And with those quick fingers of his, he made a new interplanetary passport – and the first in a long, long line of fake names.

And as Brahma faded into the distance, the man who used to be Peter Nureyev had just one thing to tell it:

NUREYEV: (DISTANT) Juno! Someone, come help, quick!

JUNO (NARRATOR): No, he– what? Ah, that doesn’t…

SOUND: BUZZING.

(GROANS)

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

NUREYEV: (DISTANT, GETTING CLEARER) He’s bleeding! If you don’t come in here this instant he’ll die, do you hear me, and then where will you be?

What’s the matter with him? You can help him, can’t you?

SOUND: CLANG. FOOTSTEPS.

He’s… fine then? Well… I suppose I should thank you.

SOUND: CHOKING.

…for giving me just the opportunity I needed.

SOUND: THUD.

Juno… can you hear me?

JUNO: (MOANS)

NUREYEV: This is our chance to escape! You have to get up! Now!

SOUND: RUSTLING.

(PANTING) Come… on…!

SOUND: THUD. DISTANT FOOTSTEPS.

More of Miasma’s assistants… there’s no time. Listen to me, Juno. I won’t leave you here, do you hear me? But… this is my opportunity, and if I don’t take it…

JUNO: (GROANS)

NUREYEV: Shhh. I don’t know what it is you saw in there, but… I’ll be back. I promise you I won’t disappear. Do you hear me?

Goodbye, detective… for now.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): So this looks pretty bad.

MUSIC: STARTS.

Alone in a Martian tomb, surrounded by killers, and now, my one ride outta here just rode off without me. It all looks a lot like the end for Juno Steel… unless you buy what Nureyev said. Unless you trust Peter Nureyev.

So, Steel. You’ve seen his past, now. But the question remains: who is Peter Nureyev?

Peter Nureyev is… the son of a revolutionary who probably never existed. And Peter Nureyev is the son of a thief, too, a man who showed his love through lies up until the moment Nureyev killed him. And, Peter Nureyev… is a name – a name whispered in the shadows of a floating weapon, a monster under every bed in a floating city of tyrants.

Peter Nureyev is a thief without a home. And he was a thief without a name… until me.

Because Nureyev was wrong, all those years ago. He said a name wasn’t worth anything. He said that he’d never have one again… and then he gave me his. A gift I didn’t understand. So who is Peter Nureyev? Peter Nureyev is a man who makes me feel… makes me feel… a lot, okay?

And I know he’ll be back, because I know one more thing about Peter Nureyev: I make him feel a lot, too.

And why not? Everyone’s got a flaw. Here’s hoping his doesn’t get him killed.

MUSIC: PLAYS, THEN ENDS.

***

SOUND: RAIN, MUSIC.

CONCIERGE: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider supporting The Penumbra on Patreon. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Joshua Ilon, Kate Jones, and Noah Simes:

SOUND: DOOR CREAKING OPEN.

JOSHUA: Peter Nureyev… to quote Miasma, he gets what he wants. He’s a very… he knows what makes him happy and he pursues what makes him happy. He’s, he’s an adventurer. He’s Indiana Jones. He goes after cool stuff. And Juno, I think from a very young age learned to be very hesitant and to not trust good things…

SOUND: DOOR CREAKING SHUT.

CONCIERGE: We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Hannah Tsim, Elizabeth Miller, and Angel Acevedo for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories farther and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

This tale, Peter Nureyev and the Angel of Brahma, was told by the following people: Noah Simes as Peter Nureyev, Ryan Marchant as Mag, Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Kate Jones as Miasma, Sophie Kaner as Rossignol, and Jason Mellin, Scott Galica, and Kevin Vibert as the ensemble.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Grahame Turner is our script editor. Original music by Ryan Vibert. Promotional art by Mikaela Buckley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I’m so sorry you’ve been called away, dear Traveler. We eagerly await your return.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot “Spooktastic” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Sebastian fantasizes about Kurt showing up at the rink in the costume of his dreams.

And he does, but that depends on the type of dream ...

Notes: For those of you who will inevitably ask, yes, we had someone dressed in a giant lavender inflatable unicorn at our rink this Halloween xD

Part 49 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3.

“A bloody hockey mask?” Blaine snickers, sliding to a stop with enough force to spray Sebastian’s skates with snow. “As far as Halloween costumes go, isn’t that a little too on the nose for you?”

“What are you talking about?” Sebastian raises the red streaked and busted mask so Blaine can hear him clearly. “I’m not wearing a costume.”

“A-ha. Okay, Captain Edgy,” Blaine says rolling his eyes.

Sebastian doesn’t defend his costume choice. Easy is as easy does, and he’d rather be on the ice than wasting his time dressing up. He knows he copped out. So what that his costume is a little low maintenance? He doesn’t want to admit that he’s not into the gory side of Halloween. It’s a carefully guarded secret (so guarded, not even Kurt knows) that he hangs out at the rink and coaches on Halloween because blood and gut costumes freak him out – a residual fear from an episode years ago when Sebastian, alone at home while his folks were off on another of many ‘important’ business trips, decided to spend Halloween in his parent’s wine cellar watching every horror movie the satellite TV could pick up.

After the fifth movie, he’d wanted to call it quits, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk through the cold, dark cellar upstairs to the main house, so he hunkered down under the blankets he had brought with him and stayed there, eyes wide open, watching cartoons on repeat till his uncle came home in the morning.

Three straight nights of zero sleep followed, and he swore he’d never watch another horror flick again.

The rink goes all out on Halloween to give kids a safe place to Trick or Treat and enjoy themselves. The kids who attend more or less stick to store bought, cutesy costumes that are easy to skate in, so Sebastian’s hockey mask is pretty much the grossest thing out on the ice.

“What about you?” Sebastian gestures to Blaine’s gelled hair, his leather jacket, and his tighter than necessary (especially for skating) jeans. “You dressed like Elvis?”

“What?” Blaine looks down at his clothes, then back at Sebastian and grins. “I’m not wearing a costume.”

Sebastian scowls, but then bounces his head in agreement. “You’re right. I don’t think you are wearing a costume.”

“Hey! Have any of you guys seen Kurt? He’s supposed to check in by now,” Chandler asks, skating over with roster in hand, and wearing a giant, inflatable, lavender unicorn costume. Blaine, Sebastian, and the other coaches with them can’t help chuckling every time he waddles over. The consensus is it’s literally the most ridiculous thing anyone has ever seen.

But the kids love it so, in that respect, Chandler wins coach of the month.

Sebastian is grateful Chandler has the skating skills to keep him upright in that thing. It would suck to have to pick him up off the ice every five feet.

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Blaine answers, which annoys Sebastian thoroughly. In Kurt matters, Sebastian should always get the first say.

“He didn’t come to the rink with us,” Sebastian adds when Chandler looks at him with confusion. “He was still working on his costume when we left. He said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Ooo la la!” Chandler coos, grinning behind the clear panel in the unicorn’s chest that allows him to see. “I can’t wait to see what he comes up with this year! He has the best skating outfits on the ice. His Halloween costume must be epic!”

“Yeah,” Sebastian mutters dreamily, biting his lower lip and imagining the kind of costume his boyfriend might have come up with. Like Blaine, he favors tight shirts, even tighter pants, and dramatic makeup, which Sebastian never thought for the life of him would be a thing that would get his engine going. Makeup on boys seemed unnatural to him - a desperate cry for attention. But after seeing the looks Kurt comes up with, boy has Sebastian changed his mind! And not just about Kurt. About every boy who wears makeup. It never dawned on Sebastian how freeing makeup could be, how expressive, how unique.

And in Kurt’s case, how erotic.

Quite a one-eighty for a boy who never thought he’d date in high school, not to mention Ice Queen Kurt Hummel.

Sebastian can picture Kurt dressing up as a fox in a sleek velvet bodysuit with a fluffy tail. Or an elf, Lord of the Rings style - regal and strong in a tailored tunic and silver-blond wig. Or maybe something with Spanish flair, like a flamenco dancer or a Matador. (Kurt’s been really into Ricky Martin lately …. obnoxiously so …) Another coach on the ice is dressed as a peacock – teal blue spandex unitard covered in crystals and sequins, with a full tail of feathers attached to the rear that shimmies when she skates. Sebastian can see Kurt rocking that look, no question. That shade of blue would make his eyes pop.

And that fan of feathers would make his ass look fantastic!

Sebastian shifts from skate to skate, becoming antsy as images of his boyfriend in sexy Halloween costumes flood his brain, some of them as unoriginal as a box of bricks - sexy doctor, sexy lit professor, sexy crossing guard. But that wouldn’t matter, because on Kurt, a burlap potato sack would look hot as hell. Sebastian doesn’t think Kurt would opt for store bought though. Whatever he’s come up with has to be glamorous, elaborate, and bedazzled within an inch of his life. But if he shows up dressed as a sexy police officer, wearing aviator shades and carrying handcuffs, they may have to take off their skates and call it a night, because Sebastian wouldn’t be able to stop tripping over his tongue.

“Uh … Sebastian? Are you in there? Are you still with us?” Blaine says, waving his fingers in front of Sebastian’s eyes. Sebastian went catatonic the second Chandler mentioned Kurt’s costume, staring off into space and licking his lips as if he’s daydreaming about his favorite ice cream flavor. Blaine can’t help envying Sebastian’s relationship with Kurt. He does every single day.

Watching tough guy Sebastian Smythe drool over his boyfriend is too jealousy-inducing for words.

Sebastian shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor as a whiff of Blaine’s aftershave invades his nostrils with its overpowering scent of ‘tree’. “Ugh,” he groans, turning his head and scanning the rink, jumping from costume to costume, searching for his boyfriend. “Can you lay off the cologne a bit? I know it might be too late for you, but I want to keep my brain cells.”

“Fuck you, too, dude.”

Blaine spots him first. Of course he does. Sebastian knows Blaine sees him by the way his stupid eyes grow wider and wider until they take up three-quarters of his face, squeezing his mouth down to the vicinity of his chin.

“Oh … my … God …” Blaine chuckles, eyes darting from behind Sebastian’s back to his face. “Hi, Kurt.”

“Hello, boys.”

Sebastian hears his boyfriend’s voice and he smiles. His man is here. His moment has arrived. Sebastian glares at Blaine, who’s already backing away, a look on his face that Sebastian doesn’t know how to interpret.

“I think I’ll just … go this way.” Blaine laughs into his hand as he joins a small group of starter tots on center ice.

“See that you do,” Sebastian says, glad that, for once, Blaine can take a hint and skedaddle. He feels Kurt’s hands slide up his arms to his shoulders, caressing gently from behind. He can’t see Kurt’s hands, but that’s okay. He doesn’t want to see anything that will give Kurt’s costume away before he can turn around and get the full effect.

Sebastian tilts his head to talk over his shoulder. “Hello, handsome.”

Kurt drops a subtle kiss onto Sebastian’s ear. “Hello, yourself. So, what do you think of my costume?”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” Sebastian teases.

“Oh,” Kurt says, probably assuming Sebastian had caught a glimpse in the reflection of the windows as he approached. “Well, turn around and take a look.”

Sebastian doesn’t need to be told twice. He spins around with the enthusiasm of a kid hoping for a bike on his birthday but expecting a car. He’s prepared to see Kurt in skin tight spandex of some variety, with a wicked cat’s eye liner, and cheekbones contoured to cut glass. Kurt probably shimmers like a disco ball, a God in Swarovski crystals and mesh paneling.

It takes a few moments of staring, blinking, and gaping to comprehend the look that Kurt has put together.

When Sebastian does, he recoils.

“Oh my God, Kurt!” he squawks, stumbling backward over his heels and falling on his ass. “What the … what are you!?”

“I’m a zombie!” Kurt raises his arms and turns on his toe picks to give Sebastian a look at the final product.

“A zom---wha-what?” Sebastian’s eyes work overtime racing up and down Kurt’s body – the filthy rags hanging off his limbs, gaping holes torn through the fabric; his skin greying and ashen, the makeup done (brilliantly, Sebastian has to admit) to make his eyes and cheeks look sunken and rotting; his hair darkened and plastered to his skull. Considering how voluminous his hair normally is, it must have taken gobs of product to get it flat like this. Then there’s the blood - thick, black, greasy blood crusting at the corners of his mouth, leaking from his eyes, oozing out his ears and nose. He’d glued pieces of organs bulging from cracks in the exposed sections of his torso, a fractured bone splitting the skin of his forearm.

This look, so far removed from his usual makeup creations, definitely showcases the incredible talent of Kurt Hummel. It could have been done by a professional effects artist, it’s that detailed.

And it’s repulsive!

“Why would you wear that?” Sebastian cries, scooting backward to keep his boyfriend at arm’s length.

“Duh! It’s Halloween!” Kurt giggles. “It’s not like it’s Christmas or the fourth of July! We’re supposed to dress scary! You’re wearing a bloody hockey mask!”

A hundred remarks flash through Sebastian’s brain, but he can’t get a single one past his tongue, not with his boyfriend standing above him looking exactly like a putrid corpse! It’s not Kurt’s fault. Sebastian never told him how much ghouls and spooks and zombies terrify him. Still, he never pictured Kurt going full out gore for Halloween, not in a million years. Sebastian plans to tell him as soon as he can get Kurt alone, but that’s provided he takes that makeup off first. But Sebastian can’t ask Kurt to do that. It must have taken ages to do! He has to find a middle ground. He glances with his eyes from side to side until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Uh, I’ve got to … there’s somewhere … I’m going to the locker room,” Sebastian says, scrambling to his feet. “But, uh … I’m going to text you, so keep your phone on. Okay?”

Yeah. That’s it. He’ll text him an explanation. Through a locked door from fifty feet away! Not like that’s lame or anything.

“Come on, Sebastian.” Kurt puckers black, broken lips and obliviously gives chase. “Stop playing hard to get and give me a kiss!”

“Nope. No. No way, no how!” Sebastian says, crawling on his hands and knees when he finds he can’t stand, clawing at the ice to evade his boyfriend. “Kurt! Get away from me, Kurt, or I’m gonna cancel my ten o’clock!”

[thesportssoundoff]

“Ugh, well I guess so” UFC TUF 28 Finale Preview

Joey

November 25th, 2018

Take a big long deep breath folks because we're about to delve ass deep into four major shows PLUS big time boxing all on the same week. UFC fans and Bellator fans will get to feast on events while Deontay Wilder vs Tyson Fury lurks as the big boy HW boxing clash we've been waiting some time for. The UFC's latest finale for its latest edition of TUF is up first on Friday and it's...well I don't know how to put it necessarily. I feel like it says a lot about THEIR confidence in the talent amassed that this TUF has 11 fights announced with one finale to go. The fights are UFC talents and not a lot of TUF talent so I think they may be aware that FWs and HWs were a stinky pairing. Beyond the two finales though, the proven name fights aren't that bad. RDA vs Kamaru Usman is your main event and I'm all smiles about that one as it's a competent solid headliner between two fighters who are top 10 at the very worst in their division. Joe Benavidez vs Alex Perez is a tremendous veteran vs prospect fight at 125 lbs (since that division still exists for a month or so) plus Bryan Caraway vs Pedro Munhoz is a "fun"-ish veteran vs veteran clash at 135 lbs. At the very least, we can have another long discussion about Pedro Munhoz's fight IQ. Some DWTCS prospects like Roosevelt Roberts, Antonina Shevchenko and Edmen Shabazyan take fights and the rest? Well the rest is the rest I guess.

Fights: 12 (?)

Debuts: Kevin Aguilar, Roosevelt Roberts, Edmen Shahbazyan, Antonina Shevchenko, Boston Salmon, Chris Guiterrez

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: 3 (Gilbert Melendez OUT, Rick Glenn IN vs Arnold Allen/Arnold Allen OUT, Kevin Aguilar IN vs Rick Glenn/Ashlee Evans Smith OUT, Ji Yeon Kim IN vs Antonina Shevchenko)

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC): 4 (Joe Benavidez, Kamaru Usman, Rafael Dos Anjos, Bryan Caraway)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC: (Tim Means)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC: (Kamaru Usman, Ji Yeon Kim, Alex Perez, Darren Stewart)

Main Card Record Since Jan 1st 2016 (in the UFC):  19-10-1

Kamaru Usman- 6-0 Rafael Dos Anjos- 3-3 Bryan Caraway- 1-1 Pedro Munhoz- 5-1 Ji Yeon Kim- 2-2 Antonina Shevchenko- 0-0 Edmen Shahbazyan- 0-0 Darren Stewart- 2-3-1

Since this card has two finale fights on it, I went by the top four fights on Wiki, MMAJunkie AND the new UFC site.

Divisional Breakdown:

Bantamweight- 3 Middleweight- 2 Welterweight- 2 Lightweight- 1 Women's flyweight- 1 Flyweight- 1 Heavyweight- 1 Women's featherweight- 1

Too High Up- The TUF Finales

I know I know. The TUF finales have to be on the main card (otherwise why have the fucking finales, right?) but DO they? Are feelings going to get hurt if they're not on here? Is anybody going to write to their congressmen if the main card, likely to push the three hour range, has 30 minutes plus shedded off with the prelims having the finales? You're asking me to watch bad MMA (sorry but it is!) at like midnight. That hurts my feelings. It hurts everybody's feelings.

Too Low- Joseph Benavidez vs Alex Perez

If things stands as they are (and I'm betting they will change) then Alex Perez vs Joe Benavidez will be smack dab in the MIDDLE of the FS1 prelims. Not a prelim headliner mind you but in the middle of the prelims. That's too low. I understand the importance behind pushing fighters in divisions that are NOT falling apart (the Stewart/Shabaz fight and the TUF Finale fights) but this fight being in the middle of nowhere is just disrespectful to the highest degree. Alex Perez will probably do just fine at 135 lbs and Joe Benavidez, even if he's on a long slope decline, is still damn good. Let's not try to ruin this.

Stat Monitor for 2018:

Debuting Fighters (Current number: 32-40-1): Kevin Aguilar, Roosevelt Roberts, Edmen Shahbazyan, Antonina Shevchenko, Boston Salmon, Chris Guiterrez

Short Notice Fighters (Current number: 31-30):  Kevin Aguilar, Ji Yeon Kim

Second Fight (Current number: 39- 33-1):  Raoni Barcelos, Ricky Rainey, Khalid Taha

Cage Corrosion (Current number: 22-37):  0

Undefeated Fighters (Current number: 31-23-1):  Antonina Shevchenko, Roosevelt Roberts, Edmen Shahbazyan

Keeping An Eye On But Not Really; Fighters with at least four fights in the UFC with 0 wins over competition still in the organization:

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- It's a little wacky and dare I say gutsy that the UFC's big push on this TUF Finale card would be the three prospects (Roosevelt Roberts, Antonina Shevchenko and Edmen Shahbazyan) who were found off of DWTCS. The Contenders Series has basically become the TUF replacement of sorts; the spot where the real top unsigned talent heads off to find entry into the UFC. TUF is on his 28th US season with over 33 worldwide (three in Latin America, three in Brazil and one in China off the top of my head) so it's not a surprise it's lost some steam at this point. It just is a stark reminder of the power of a new idea in MMA; the TUF dudes who kill themselves for weeks to make weight and fight in an intense tournament style of a lesser interest than the Contender Series guys who exist to get the big thumbs up from Dana White. That's tough to consider but probably where things stand in MMA and will stand going forward.

2- So what happens with the next season of TUF? It was leaked that the new UFC production building will hold the Contender Series, live boxing and kickboxing (as well as other sports like Wushu and amateur wrestling)---but will also be the home for TUF. That is also the case apparently for the China PI as well. At this point the question becomes where TUF will air and not whether or not it'll continue. TUF 29 is coming in some form or fashion and all I hope is that they find a way to shake this format up a smidge. I'm basically dead to the idea that it won't happen and am accepting it. Just try to do SOMETHING with it besides "Here's the content, take it!"

3- I really really really really hope they just abandon the whole "Coaches fight each other!" set up and roll with using the spot as a way for old names to get a payday without fighting. There are plenty of legends out there they're on good terms with who can do some coaching. Use that power for good, man.

4- How badly does Kamaru Usman need a finish? Usman was the back up for Till vs Woodley and figures to be the sort of dude who lives in an eternal state of being just "One fight away" from a title shot. I like Usman a lot----but in some ways he's a victim of his own success more than anything else. He has one finish since the TUF finale that brought him into the UFC and while dominant wins over Demian Maia, Sergio Moraes, Emil Meek and  Warlley Alves are absolutely impressive; he's in a division where either big finishers or big talkers are ahead of him. Colby Covington vs Tyron Woodley probably stalls him up his chances of an immediate title shot while Usman has to be cognizant of the fact that Ben Askren lurks in the background assuming Woodley loses to Covington AND Santiago Ponzinibbio is streaking up the rankings. There's also a gooey middle of the pack featuring every action fighter under the sun putting on big finishes and scary performances. That's not counting some Nick Diaz/GSP/Conor McGregor fuckery. RDA is a tough out for any fighter but Usman needs to make a big time statement or risk being the next Tony Ferguson type who was always "One fight away" from the title, requiring a borderline act of God to sneak in and snag an interim title.

5- Did RDA basically burn his last renaissance run? After bad weight cuts and a genuine improvement in talent at 155 lbs, Dos Anjos found hay at 170 lbs with wins over Robbie Lawler, Neil Magny and Tarec Saffiedine. He had a good fight vs Colby Covington but got outworked and outhustled for the most part. Covington jabbed him with frequent regularity, kept RDA reaching on his strikes, gave him no space to breathe and just outhustled him in the clinch and on the feet. Usman is very similar to Colby except his striking is a lot better and his cardio is better too. This is a tough matchup to RDA and you gotta wonder if he's about to go from potential money fight recipient vs Conor McGregor to high level gatekeeper at 170 lbs.

6- The fight between Edmen Shahbazyan and Darren Stewart is an intriguing one. Darren Stewart was one of the better prospects out of Cage Warriors; a fun as shit action fighter who could brawl with the best of them, hit crazy hard and seemed to have the rare ever elusive "upside at 205 lbs" label. He struggled with four straight fights without a win in the UFC but basically saved his job with a FOTN loss to Julian Marquez. Since then he's gone 2-0 including knocking off Charles Byrd in a pretty big fight for him in September. Stewart might be rounding into form and even if his form is just "the guy at 185 lbs who has fun fights and scores the occasional nasty finish" then that's all fine and good to me. The UFC needs that as 185 lbs takes a turnaround. Edmen is a Ronda represented Edmund trained fighter who the UFC signed off a super quick knock out on Dana White's Tuesday Night Contenders Series. It was in many ways the sort of performance that catches the eyes of the UFC but his signing was obviously assisted by Dana's ties to Ronda. The fact he seems to be on the main card is only going to up the pressure.

7- Is Rick Glenn the worst 'good" featherweight on the roster? He's got a positive record in the UFC and has wins over Dennis Bermudez and Gavin Tucker.  He's facing short notice fighter Kevin Aguilar who is a really interesting signing. Few dudes bring the violence the way Aguilar has on repeated performances. The problem is Aguilar is up a weight class and has struggled at times with dudes like Glenn.

8- Gonna call Ji Yeon Kim upsetting Antonina Shevchenko. Might look stupid but you gotta call your shots in life!

9- Roosevelt Roberts vs Darrel Horcher feels like a set up for Roberts but I felt the same way about Madge vs Edwards so no chickens shall be counted before they hatch.

10- The bantamweight division is obviously loaded with talent on all levels but this figures to be a very intriguing step forward as two superb talents walk into the division. It took Raoni Barcelos a lot of time to get here but the 31 year old Brazilian made his UFC debut in July with a blow out win over Kurt Holobaugh. He's dropping down to 135 lbs where he'll draw debutante Chris Guiterrez on the prelims. The other big talent is Boston Salmon who will FINALLY make his UFC debut after being signed in July and then just sort of disappearing. Salmon is one of the rare talents to earn a deal despite not getting a finish and it has a lot to do with him just being an uber elite talent that the UFC had been scouting while he developed in LFA/RFA. He was supposed to face Khalid Taha who pulled out although wiki, the UFC site and MMAJunkie.com still has the fight up soooo....who knows?

11- Will any fighters besides the finalists appear on this card? Remember we're at 10 fights now with the finals getting added on Wednesday. Will this be the rare 14 fight card with both semi final fights?

12- Does this show end before 1:30 AM on the East Coast?

[junker-town]

‘Little Giants’ deserved a sequel. So we made one

Warner Brothers production / Illustration by Tyson Whiting

What would a sequel to the 1994 “Little Giants” movie have looked like? SB Nation’s Sam Eggleston thinks he knows.

Let’s rewind our VHS tapes to October 1995, when Little Giants first hit the big screen. It wasn’t particularly well-reviewed, nor was it a blockbuster hit. What it was, and what it became, was a cult classic.

In today’s entertainment climate, that would have nearly guaranteed a sequel would be born from the $19.3M it made at the box office ($32.5M in today’s dollars).

But what would the sequel be?

At the end of the first film, the Little Giants win their head-to-head single game and become the lone pee-wee team in Urbania, Ohio, with players from both teams comprising the roster and former rival coaches Kevin and Danny O’Shea splitting duties at the helm of the program. The town’s water tower is changed to reflect the contributions of both O’Shea brothers.

We fade to black and the credits begin to roll.

In the sequel, dubbed Little Giants Go For 2, we open up with the Giants having just defeated another opponent from a nearby town. The team, in a show of sportsmanship, is shaking hands with the other team at the 50-yard line, the scoreboard lit up in the background to show a 20-point win.

“Why do you have to be such a Neanderthal all the time?”

Kevin and Danny are cheering with the kids in the locker room afterward, well-placed endorsement items like Gatorade and Doritos here and there.

”We’re going to the state playoffs and our first game is a week from today,” Kevin says. “There are three games ahead of us before the state championship game, and we’ve got our work cut out for us. We’re going to have to lay some wood and crack some heads if we’re going to get through Port Clinton in the first round.”

”And we’re going to have to have fun, too,” Danny pipes in. Kevin rolls his eyes. Right then, the commissioner of the pee-wee league comes into the locker room, holding the regional trophy the team just won. The kids cheer and rush the poor man, who is taken to the ground when Marcus trips and tumbles into him. The trophy flies into the air and gasps abound until Hot Hands Hanon leaps up and snags it.

”Spike thinks that was a great catch,” says the former villain as he takes the trophy. He claps Hanon on the back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

”Ugh,” Becky O’Shea says from behind Spike. “Why do you have to be such a Neanderthal all the time?”

Spike scrunches up his face, clearly trying to avoid an outburst.

”Spike … is … not … A NEANDERTHAL!” he screams out. “Besides, Spike would rather be that than a stupid girl!”

”This stupid girl has kicked your butt before and can do it again!”

Junior Floyd steps between them.

”Stop it!” he says. “We just won a game because the two of you are the best football players in Ohio. We’re better when we’re a team and not trying to fight each other.”

Becky glares at Spike for a moment and then puts her hand out for a shake.

”Fine,” she says. “I’m sorry for calling you a Neanderthal.”

Spike stares at her hand for a moment and then turns and walks away without a word.

Warner Brothers production / Illustration by Tyson Whiting

We return to Urbania where we see Danny working at the service station. He is talking to the town’s mayor as he pumps gas. The discussion is about the upcoming game against Port Clinton, a game the mayor has heard the Little Giants will probably win hands down.

As the mayor pulls away, another car comes into the station lot, the bell ringing as it pulls up to the pumps. It’s Danny’s love interest, Patty. She is all smiles as she gets out of the car, a lunchbox in her hand.

”You forgot this,” she said as Danny approaches.

”Did I?” he teases. “Maybe I just left it so I’d get to see you a little extra today.”

The two are about to share a kiss when a full-size Hummer H1 comes roaring into the station, surprising them. The Hummer is a gaudy green and gold with a hood ornament in the shape of a wedge of cheese.

Danny steps up to the tinted driver’s window, which rolls down slowly. Inside is a man wearing Tommy Hilfiger with a pair of Oakley sunglasses.

”You O’Shea?” the man asks, chewing a wad of gum. Next to him in the passenger’s seat is basically a miniature clone of him.

”I am,” Danny responds, looking more than a bit confused. “And you are?”

”Freddy Hayes,” he says, cracking a jerk-type smile. “Coach Freddy Hayes.”

Danny looks at the boy in the passenger’s seat. He, too, is wearing Oakleys and chewing gum.

”That’s great,” Danny says, polite as always. “Any relation to Woody?”

”Yeah,” the guy says. “Well, probably. Like distant cousins on my dad’s side. Maybe.”

Danny glances back at Patty, who just shrugs. The question clearly irritates Hayes, who reaches out and pokes Danny in the chest with his index finger.

”I know you’re the coach of those stupid Little Giants,” he says, scoffing. “Well, I coach the Packers over at Port Clinton. And you know what? I’m going to make sure you and your brother get the beating you deserve.

”Boo-yah!”

Without giving Danny a chance to respond, Hayes slams on the gas and tears out into the street, forcing a car to swerve to avoid hitting him. Tires squeal as the big Hummer tears away.

”What the hell was that?” Danny wonders aloud.

There is commotion inside O’Shea Chevrolet.

”Freddy Hayes?!?” Kevin O’Shea yells from inside the dealership. The scene jumps inside as Danny nods his head.

”Yeah. Do you know him?”

”Know him?” Kevin repeats, pacing around his office. “You could say that. The year I won the Heisman, I pretty much punched the ticket with four touchdowns in the Alamo Bowl. On the last play of the game, we were down by four, and Coach called a wheel route off the play-action. As I turn up field, our quarterback Beau Rondeau hit me with a beaut of a pass. I secure the ball, start sprinting down the sideline and here comes the defense’s best player, Freddy Hayes.

”Well, Freight Train Freddy makes the mistake of going for my knees. As soon as I saw his shoulder drop, I jumped and hurdled right over him.” Kevin mimes the move energetically.

Danny’s eyes grow wide.

”I remember that,” he says. “He flew right off the field and slammed into those poor cheerleaders. And you scored, untouched.”

”And they replayed it on SportsCenter over and over,” Kevin says, a smile on his face. “Dan Patrick must have played that clip 10 times in a row.”

The O’Shea brothers look at each other and in perfect sync quote Patrick.

”The WHIFFFFFFF!”

Danny sits down in the chair across from Kevin’s desk. “So what the heck does he want with you now?”

Kevin stands up, rotating the wedding ring on his finger as he looks out the window into the car lot.

”I think it’s obvious,” he says. “Don’t you?”

Danny remains silent.

”He wants revenge, Danny. He wants to embarrass us like we embarrassed him.”

”Wait — ‘we’ didn’t embarrass anyone. You did!”

Kevin chuckles as he walks up to his little brother. He pats him on the shoulder.

”There’s no ‘you’ in team, Danny. He wants all the Little Giants to suffer.”

The Little Giants are all sitting in an old garage, pizza and soda and other goodies scattered around. Junior Floyd is sitting on a beat-up couch with Becky “Icebox” O’Shea. They are holding hands. Nearby, there are a few of the old Cowboys players chatting with Rudy Zolteck and the rest of the Little Giants are scattered around.

Spike is lifting weights while little Jake Berman watches in amazement. “His arms are the size of my head!” Berman announces before wiping his nose.

”That’s because Spike never misses his weight training,” Spike says. “That’s because Spike knows the value of a good diet and a strong workout.”

Zolteck turns to look at Spike. He’s holding a bag of Reese’s Pieces.

”Do you like seafood?” He asks Spike.

”Yeah, it’s a great source of protein,” Spike says.

”Here’s some see food for you!” Zolteck says, opening his mouth to reveal the chewed up and colorful oranges and yellows mixed with peanut butter brown in his mouth.

”Ugh!” Spike says, dropping the weights to the ground with a thud. “Why do they even let you in here?”

Zolteck shrugs his shoulders and throws more candy into his mouth. At the same time, the door to the garage opens and Kevin and Danny enter.

”All right, take a seat and shut your mouths,” Kevin says as he walks up to a television and VCR. He pops a tape in and the static on the screen turns to a football game.

”Whoa,” says Junior. “Those guys are big.”

”Really, really big,” says Tad Simpson.

”Bigger than Spike,” Johnny Vennaro says.

Spike growls as he stares at the television under a furrowed brow.

The scene on the film shows play after play of a team wearing green and gold crushing their opponents. Offensive lines look like wet paper bags and defenders tear through them, sacking the quarterback and picking up tackles for losses. Interceptions abound. On offense, they cruise through their opponents like they are running past tackling dummies.

”Who are they?” Vennaro asks, his eyes wide with fear.

”That, kids, is the team from Port Clinton,” Kevin says. “The Packers.”

Three Little Giants players are walking down the driveway, away from the garage.

”Where are you going?” Danny calls out after them.

”To update my life insurance!” Zolteck answers over his shoulder.

”Yeah, I need to call my grammy,” Tad says.

”I’m just getting the heck out of here!” Berman cries out, speeding up his walk.

Danny steps out of the garage and jogs after them. He catches them before they are out of the driveway.

”C’mon, guys,” he says. “They’re just pee-wee football players. Just like you.”

”Like us?’ Zolteck says in disbelief. “They’re all bigger than anyone on our team! I think some of them had beards! And tattoos!”

“They’re all bigger than anyone on our team! I think some of them had beards! And tattoos!”

Danny corrals the boys and turns them back towards the garage. The boys look reluctant, but they fall into step and allow themselves to be escorted back inside where the other players are waiting.

Kevin is at a chalkboard with Nubie standing next to him, his playbook in hand.

”We ready?” Kevin asks, looking slightly annoyed.

Danny nods as the three absconding players find places to sit next to their teammates.

Kevin begins drawing on the chalkboard, glancing down at Nubie’s playbook.

”The best way to defeat size,” he says as the Xs and Os develop on the slate, “is with speed.”

Warner Brothers production / Illustration by Tyson Whiting

It’s game day, and we get a view of a beautiful football field surrounded on both sides by bleachers. Fans are packed into them, each side waving signs and wearing the colors of their team.

As the Little Giants come onto the field and tear through a paper sign, one side of the stadium erupts in cheers.

”Nice turnout,” says Danny to Kevin as they come out behind their team.

”People can’t resist a good football game, Danny,” Kevin says. “Let’s give them a game to remember.”

On the other side of the field, a golf cart pulling a trailer drives up in front of the entrance of the home team. On the trailer is a brick wall with “Packers” spray painted on it in green and gold. All the Little Giants are standing there, eyes locked on the strange display across the field.

Suddenly, the wall shakes. And then again. And again. And again. And then it topples and crumbles to the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust into the air. Fans on the Little Giants’ side of the field gasp as figures begin to emerge from the dust.

A trio of Packers players, including the younger Hayes, steps into view. They are holding sledgehammers. Without a word, Hayes lifts his hammer and points it straight at the Little Giants. He holds it there for a few moments before letting it drop onto the green grass turf.

”Packers! Packers! Packers! Packers!” the crowd on that side of the field begins to chant. The players come marching over the rubble of the fallen bricks, three abreast, and flow onto the field.

Fans in the Little Giants’ stands look at one another nervously and remain silent.

Danny and Kevin glance back at the stunned crowd, then to their players, and then call them to the sidelines.

”Blood and guts. If they hit us hard enough, they’ll get to see both.”

”We can’t let their size intimidate us,” Danny says. “You’ve beaten teams with bigger players than you before. And with some of these plays that Nubie has designed, you’re going to have the element of surprise.”

”Yeah, I’d be surprised if we don’t die during the kickoff,” groans Tommy Moore.

Danny frowns and then gestures onto the field.

”Get out there and show them what you’re made of,” he says.

”Blood and guts,” Zolteck says. “If they hit us hard enough, they’ll get to see both.”

The Little Giants trudge onto the field, and things instantly start to go bad. The Packers take the opening kickoff all the way back for a touchdown, and then kick an onside and recover it.

Kevin looks across the field to where Freddy Hayes is standing with his arms crossed, his attention locked on the O’Shea brothers and not at all on the game. Kevin looks away just in time to see a deep pass from the younger Hayes, who is the Packers quarterback, to a receiver who easily leaps over Hot Hands to make the catch and jaunt into the end zone after shedding a tackle. The scoreboard reads 14-0 with just 30 seconds off the clock.

The Little Giants recover the ensuing onside kick and Junior jogs onto the field with Icebox and Spike already waiting in the huddle.

”Power-I 32 Fullback Lead,” he says. “On two.”

The team lines up with Icebox at fullback and Spike at tailback. As Junior calls “Down!” all the Giants linemen go into three-point stances.

”Set!” Junior barks, beginning his cadence. “Hit!”

The entire Packers defensive line fires forward, slamming into the Little Giants. Players fly backwards, slamming into the ground. The center, one of the former Cowboys, is thrown into Junior, who stumbles backwards into Icebox and the duo then crash into Spike, knocking them all to the ground.

Yellow flags fly all over the field and the referee turns towards the pressbox and signals an offsides on the Packers.

”That’s all you’re going to call?” Kevin yells out. “How about unnecessary roughness? That was nothing but a bunch of cheap shots!”

The referee ignores the O’Shea brothers as the Little Giants once again approach the line of scrimmage.

Zolteck puts his hand down in his three-point and looks across the line at the massive defensive tackle he is tasked with blocking.

”Can we just agree that football is a game about sportsmanship and caring for your fellow player?” he asks.

”Can we just agree that football is a game about sportsmanship and caring for your fellow player?”

”I’m going to knock you into next week, and then I’m going to sack your quarterback,” the Packers defender growls. “And then I’m going to steal all your candy.”

As the ball is snapped, Zolteck is run over. Junior turns to hand the ball to Spike, but Becky’s lead block is blown up and she is knocked aside. Spike and Junior are tackled at the same time by the Packer.

”Spike wants to know where you learned to block!” Spike screams at Becky as they all get off the ground.

”The same place you learned to use pronouns!” Icebox barks back.

The chaos continues and we get towards the end of the second quarter and the Giants are forced to punt and then go on defense. There, on the first play, Spike misses a tackle and inadvertently trips Becky in the process. The two get facemask-to-facemask and growl at each other as the horn sounds to end the first half.

As the Little Giants tramp into the locker room, the scoreboard behind them reads 24-3.

As Danny comes in, the scene is one of battered and bruised players. Zolteck is laying under a table, a bag of ice on his face. Spike is taping up bloody knuckles. Junior is helping Marcus fix a pair of broken shoulderpads.

”Things are looking tough out there,” Danny says. “Our backs are against the wall. But we’ve got two quarters left, and that’s a lot of football.”

”That’s a lot of football,” Berman repeats, but in a groan of despair.

Kevin is making his way towards the locker room when Coach Hayes steps out in front of him.

”There’s Mr. Heisman,” Hayes says, pointing. “Oh, man, this is so exciting! Can I get your autograph.”

”Hello, Freddy,” Kevin says, tensing up. “What do you want?”

Hayes takes off his Oakley sunglasses and walks right up to Kevin.

”What do I want?” Hayes says, chewing his gum harder and harder with each passing second. “Well, for starters, I want you to admit that you’re not worthy of the Heisman Trophy.”

”For starters …,” Kevin repeats, slowly.

”That’s right,” Hayes snarls. “Because when you’re done with that, I want you to dress in a clown costume and go out to midfield and do a funny dance.”

Kevin looks confused. He opens his mouth to say something, then changes his mind and closes it again. He can’t help himself but to open his mouth again, a question clearly at the tip of his tongue. He sighs and closes his mouth again.

”You know, because you’re a clown,” Hayes says, a sneer forming across his lips.

”Oddly enough, I did get what you were trying to say,” Kevin says. “Listen, I’ve got a team to coach, so I’m going to go do that.”

Hayes throws his head back and laughs.

”A team?” he says. “You don’t have a team. I heard all about it. Your stupid little brother beat you and you lost your team. If it weren’t for that loser, you wouldn’t even be coaching right now.”

Kevin nods his head, clearly agitated. He looks down the hall and through a crack in the door he can see his brother passionately trying to rally the troops.

”You know what? You’re right,” Kevin says. He steps up right into Hayes. “I wouldn’t be a coach if it weren’t for my loser little brother. I wouldn’t even have a job right now if it weren’t for him.

”And I’ll tell you something else. Not only did my little brother beat me, he’s going to beat you, too. Get ready for one big WHIFFFFFF, Hayes.

”And you know what? You should probably stop with the excessive gum chewing. You’re not Mike Ditka.”

“You don’t have a team. I heard all about it. Your stupid little brother beat you and you lost your team. If it weren’t for that loser, you wouldn’t even be coaching right now.”

Kevin pushes past Hayes, who is practically stammering. Without looking back, Kevin steps into the locker room and looks at Becky and Spike, who’ve been snapping at each other all day. Danny quiets down, sensing his brother has something to say to the team.

”Becky, you’re my niece and I love you,” Kevin says. “And Spike, you’re probably the best football player I’ve ever seen at your age. You two are amazing at this sport. You’re the leaders of this team. But right now, you’re tearing it apart because you just can’t get past one little moment in one football game.

”Football is a game. It’s not something that should control your life. It’s supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be played with friends. My brother taught me that. Unless the two of you can get past that one play and that one game, you’re never going to be able to lead this team to victory.”

Icebox looks angry at first. She glances over and sees Spike, his knuckles bloody from trying so hard. She looks down at her leg and the scrape across her shin. She takes a deep breath and then stands up, offering her hand to Spike.

”You wanna win a football game?” she asks.

Spike looks at her for several long and silent moments. He smiles and grabs her hand.

”Let’s do this.”

A smug Coach Hayes stands across the field from the O’Shea brothers as his team lines up for the kickoff to open the second half. With a 24-3 lead, he’s confident his team is on their way to a rout.

Kevin is glaring back at first, and then hears Danny clapping and cheering in support of the Little Giants as they trot onto the field for the return. Kevin looks at his brother, out at the kids, and then starts clapping too.

”Let’s play some football, Giants!” he yells out.

Hot Hands lines up to receive the kick with Spike and Icebox ahead of him. The Packers boot the ball deep, nearly into the end zone, and Hot Hands makes the catch at the 2-yard line and sprints forward. A group of Packers break through the initial line of blocks and are sprinting toward the kick returner when suddenly Becky and Spike converge in front of him, shoulder to shoulder, and lead block right into the Packers. Bodies tumble away as the duo opens up a lane and Hot Hands leans into his sprint, pulling away from any would-be tacklers and into the open field for a long score to cut into the lead, 24-10.

The entire stadium erupts in cheers and jeers. The Little Giants rally around their teammate, celebrating the 98-yard touchdown.

”We need to get that ball back,” says Junior to Marcus. “Can you onside it?”

”I can barely kick it straight,” Marcus says.

The Little Giants look worried, but then Nubie steps into the group. “Actually,” he says, “kicking straight is exactly what we need.”

Warner Brothers production / Illustration by Tyson Whiting

We cut to the two teams lining up for the kickoff, with Coach Hayes livid on the sidelines. He’s yelling at his Packers players, accusing them of being soft.

”You better start playing like men, or you’re going to run tomorrow at practice from sunup until sundown!”

The Packers players look upset and begin to glare at the Little Giants across from them.

”Get your hands up and be ready to dive on that football!” Hayes screams out again. His own son is at the front of the pack of players, his hands ready and his eye fixed securely on the ball as Marcus begins his approach for the kick.

The ball fires off the tee like a bullet, straight at the young Hayes. His first instinct, to come forward expecting an onside dribbling across the open field, is the wrong one as the line drive hits him in the shoulder and bounces back towards the rushing Little Giants. Players from both teams dive for it and end up in a dogpile. The refs start pulling players off here and there until we get to the bottom — and Spike has it.

As the Little Giants go to the huddle, Coach Hayes is screaming at his son on the field. The Packers are looking at him as he throws a clipboard.

”Is that how I taught you to play football?” he screams. “Is that how you’re going to represent me on this field?”

Kevin and Danny are frowning on the opposite sideline.

”C’mon, man, it’s just a game!” Danny yells across at the other coach.

”Shut up, loser!” Hayes screams back. There are murmurs from the crowd.

”You better start playing like men, or you’re going to run tomorrow at practice from sunup until sundown!”

The Little Giants break the huddle and come up to the line of scrimmage in a shotgun formation with Spike and Becky as split backs. Junior stomps his foot on the ground and Johnny goes into motion and heads toward the trio in the backfield.

”Hit!”

The snap hits Junior in the hands and he spins around as Spike and Becky converge on him just as Johnny reaches them. The four players then burst apart, heading in different directions, all holding their arms as though they have the ball.

A Packers player hits Junior and brings him to the ground and another grabs Johnny around the hips and tackles him. Neither have the ball.

As Icebox scoots around the end, ball wrapped in her arms, a Packers linebacker meets her, gets hit and misses the tackle. She cuts in front of a defensive back, spins off another tackle and then is brought down 20 yards later.

Hayes reaches down and takes Becky’s hand, pulling her to her feet.

”Nice run,” the Packer says.

”Thanks. Plan on a few more coming,” she says and then jogs back to the huddle.

On the next play, the Little Giants move the ball within five yards of the goal before coming out in a Power-I formation.

”SHIFT!” Junior calls out and suddenly everyone seems to be in motion. Linemen break away and start jogging toward the sideline to their left, joined by Spike and Johnny. Hot Hands splits out to the right. The only players left in their original positions are the center, the quarterback, and the fullback. The Packers look utterly confused.

”Swinging gate! Swinging gate!” Coach Hayes begins screaming from the end of the coaches’ box. “Shift with them!”

Packers players begin scrambling and nearly all of them bolt towards the largest concentration of players near the sideline.

In the confusion, the Little Giants get set and Junior calls out.

”Hit!”

On the snap, Hot Hands races into the end zone, drawing his corner with him. The center drives forward, pushing a defensive lineman backward while Becky sprints ahead of Junior and plows into the linebacker. Junior jukes another linebacker and walks in for the score.

”Are you kidding me?” the Packers coach is screaming. “Are. You. Kidding. Me?!?!”

With the extra point sailing through the uprights, the Little Giants now trail the Packers, 24-17.

”But I want you to know that however this game ends, I’m proud of you Little Giants. And I hope you’ve been having fun.”

The game rages on through the remainder of the third quarter and into the fourth when the Packers are facing fourth-and-3 with just over two minutes remaining.

On the snap, Hayes turns and hands the ball to a running back, who sprints towards the right side tackle. Suddenly Icebox breaks through the line, filling the hole and coming in for the tackle. The Packers runner plants his foot in the ground and reverses field, but as he does, he’s met by Spike blitzing from the opposite side and is crushed with a huge hit.

As the referee signals a first down for the Little Giants, Becky helps Spike off the ground.

”Nice hit,” she says.

”Thanks for pushing him back towards Spike,” he responds.

From the sidelines, Kevin calls a timeout and gathers up the players.

”We’ve got to get down the field and score, and we have less than two minutes to do it,” he says. “That’s a lot to ask against a team like this.

”But I want you to know that however this game ends, I’m proud of you Little Giants. And I hope you’ve been having fun. I know Danny and I have.”

The team is then greeted by Nubie as he steps into the huddle. He looks around at the players and then opens up his playbook.

”It’s time,” he says, “for the Siege of Stirling Castle.”

The Little Giants are lined up on the field in a spread formation. Junior is in the shotgun with Johnny by his side. To his left out wide stands Hot Hands, while Icebox and Spike are out to his right.

”Down!” Junior calls out, and the offensive line drops their hands to the ground in unison. “Set!”

Junior stomps his foot and Johnny goes into motion to his right, towards the sidelines.

”Hit!”

Junior takes the snap and steps back, then looks to his left as Hot Hands slants towards the middle of the field. Suddenly Hayes bursts through the line on a blitz and Junior scrambles to escape. He is looking downfield for an open receiver when he sees Becky break toward the sidelines on an out route, and he fires the ball just as he’s hit by Hayes.

The throw looks to be off target and heads out of bounds, but Becky leaps for it anyway. She snags the ball in the air and before she lands, she flings it back onto the field to Spike, who had delayed his route so he would be at full speed behind her when she caught the ball.

The Packers players, stunned, are completely unprepared as he sprints past them, breaking away from the defense and into the end zone for the score.

Cheers erupt throughout both sides of the stands and the Little Giants are all celebrating. Both Junior and Becky run up to Spike.

”That was amazing!” Junior screams. “I can’t believe that worked!”

”Just like Nubie drew it up!” Becky says.

The trio turn and look at the scoreboard, which reads 24-23.

”Should we kick it and tie it, or go for two?” Danny asks, looking at his brother. Kevin is looking across the field at Coach Hayes, who is screaming at his players. Packers heads are hanging, and the verbal berating isn’t helping matters.

Kevin takes a deep breath and then looks at his brother.

”I think we go for the win,” he says. “It’s risky, but it’s football.”

The Little Giants line up in the Power-I as the Packers stack the line. Junior looks over the top of the center at Hayes, who is creeping up, his eyes locked on the quarterback.

”Icebox, right?” Hayes asks.

Junior just looks at him and smiles.

”Down. Set.”

The atmosphere is tense. Fans on both sides are standing. There is a silence hanging over everything.

”Hit!”

The center snaps the ball back, through Junior’s legs and directly to Spike, who charges forward. Junior and Becky run a fake dive to the right, drawing Hayes and another linebacker with them. By the time they realize it’s Spike with the ball, it’s too late as he leaps up and into the fray, stretching the ball out over the line for the score.

”AND IT’S GOOOOOOD! Giants win! Giants win!” The announcer’s voice echoes in the stadium but is immediately overtaken by the roar from the crowd. The Little Giants are celebrating when the younger Hayes walks up to them.

”That was one heck of a football game,” he says, shaking the hands of Junior, Icebox, and Spike. “I can’t wait for the rematch next season.”

”We’ll be there,” Becky says. “You can count on it.”

”AND IT’S GOOOOOOD! Giants win! Giants win!”

At midfield, Kevin and Freddy Hayes meet. Kevin holds out his hand.

”Nice game, Freddy,” he says.

Hayes looks at the outstretched hand and then back at Kevin.

”It’s time to forget the past,” Kevin says, looking down the field at Hayes’ son, “and start to think about the future.

”You’ve got a special boy there, and he’s a solid football player. Give him the love of the game, just like you and I had when we played. There are far more great moments than bad ones.”

Hayes watches his son shake hands with the Little Giants. He takes a deep breath, reaches up and pulls off his Oakleys, and then looks Kevin right in the eyes.

”You got lucky when you hurdled me,” he says.

Kevin smiles.

”I did.”

Hayes looks down the field again as the Packers begin to gather together in the end zone. The Little Giants are gathering with Danny on the opposite end of the field.

”Great game, Coach,” Hayes says, taking Kevin’s hand and shaking it. “See you next year.”

As Kevin approaches his team, some of the players rush over and grab him, dragging him next to Danny as the rest of the team surrounds them both. Smiles all around.

”This one was for you two,” Becky says, hugging her dad and then her uncle. “Thank you for being our coaches.”

As she steps back, Junior lifts his helmet in the air, followed by the rest of the players.

”Little Giants on three!” he yells.

Kevin and Danny look at one another and then shake hands as the players scream out the count down.

”One! Two! Three!

”LITTLE GIANTS!”

We fade to black, and the credits begin to roll.

[chamomilehoneytea]

“Out of Reach”

“Yano-chin! Hey, wake up!”

Slumped over her desk, Ayane only offered a muffled groan from the makeshift pillow of her arms. To wake up she’d need to be asleep first, and that was impossible with Chizu around.

“It’s only the first day of the term! You’re off to a worse start than me,” Chizu said, clapping a hand on her friend’s shoulder and shaking, to no avail.

Summer vacation had been far from rejuvenating. Her days were spent poring over complex equations, nonsensical English words, and obscure dates that all ran together like a cruel sequence of code. The few hours of sleep she’d granted herself had been wasted staring at the ceiling of her room.

And it was all his fault.

“Ugh, wake up for real this time – Pin’s coming!”

Ayane’s head shot up from her desk so fast that Chizu nearly fell over.

Did she have any stray hairs? Dried drool on her cheek? Smudged mascara? Her hands were at a loss what to fix first, and before she could decide, Pin was at the front of the classroom.

“So, how was your summer break, brats? No, don’t bother answering – I know it wasn’t half as good as MINE!” he yelled, opening the attendance book with a sloppy flourish.

“Yeah, right! I watched you get turned down at the convenience store! I’ve never seen a girl run that fast!”

“Whoa, no way! I saw him get rejected at the park! And the movie theater! How is that possible?”

“SHUT UP!! I’M TRYING TO TAKE ATTENDANCE!”

Warmth spread through Ayane’s cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the summer heat pressing against the windows. She lowered her eyes to the top of her desk, praying that no one had noticed her embarrassing reaction.

He’s still trying to pick up girls? When will that idiot learn…?

“KURONUMA!”

“H-Here!!” Sawako answered frantically, as if trying to match Pin’s energy.

“SANADA!”

“Here,” Ryu said, his tone sleepy and uninterested.

As Pin screamed through the rest of the list, Ayane found herself staring at him. She may have been tired, but for the first time in her life she had been desperate to return to school. After so many days of not seeing him, her eyes travelled eagerly over the gentle lines of his face, the dark tips of his hair, his long eyelashes…

“YANO?”

He was staring back at her, heavy brows raised and mouth open, like he was waiting for her to speak. The best response her frenzied thoughts could render was a straightforward, spontaneous:

“Huh?”

The whole class burst into laughter, submerging her in an unapologetic chorus of brays, giggles, and snickers. Even Chizu was covering her mouth in an effort to stifle her snorts.

How long had he been calling her name?

The intense heat in her cheeks spread to her ears.

Did everyone notice her staring? Did he…?

“Here!” she quickly cried, praying that Pin would spare her any further humiliation.

But he just smirked, turning his eyes back to the class roster.

“Yano’s break must have been so good, she’s still there!!”

Ayane shot him the greatest glare she could muster, though she found it strangely difficult to stay angry with him as he continued down the list of names. She was the one who’d let her guard down, after all…

I’m the idiot!

The nights were starting to cool, and the rain drying on the asphalt rose up in a weak mist over the streets. The cricket-song had long faded, but the sound of water dripping into drains filled the silence left by summer’s passing.

Sawako and Kurumi were walking home in the opposite direction, their long hair bobbing gently as they went. Studying together at the library after cram school was becoming routine, and for Ayane, it was a welcome distraction.

At home she was too scattered to accomplish much of anything.

The sight of Kurumi and Sawako striving towards a common goal never failed to motivate her. How often had she wished to be someone like them? Cute, intelligent, and above all, honest. In love with the same boy, they had both fought to make their feelings known, even at the risk of a painful rejection.

I could never do something that stupid…

Ayane smiled a little, turning her back on their receding figures. The walk to her house was long, too long, but she shortened the distance with quick, efficient steps.

A too-long walk meant too much time to think.

In the middle of studying for the most important exam of her life, her traitorous mind continued to circle around Pin. What he might tell her if he knew she was struggling. The feeling of his hands enveloping her own, his hand on her shoulders, his hand on her head. The memory of his touch never failed to reassure her…

Every morning he was in the careful curl of her lashes, the pat of blush to her cheeks, and the gloss on her lips. The face staring back at her in the mirror was the face he would see that day, after all. Pin would have doubled over laughing if he knew that she cared what he thought of her appearance. Last year she might have joined him, mocking the girl who wanted such a cocky, careless, coarse man to think she was beautiful.

Ayane’s cheeks flamed at such an embarrassing idea. How old was she? Thirteen? Five? With those fairytale expectations she felt young beyond her years. Besides, what would it matter if Pin thought she were pretty? He’d never…

She stopped in her tracks.

Never…what?

She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head from side to side to banish those reckless, terrifying thoughts.

What am I going to do? I need to get a grip, before someone sees me…

“Oh! It’s you, Yano!”

His voice washed over her like a pitcher of ice water, and her body went rigid at the sound. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes confirmed the horror of her ears. 

Pin stood not five feet behind her, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He eyed her with a certain suspicion, as if he were struggling to read her frightened expression.

“What are you doing out this late? Cram school was done hours ago,” he said, taking a step towards her.

Ayane quickly turned her head away from him. “I was studying at the library…”

“Ha! I figured as much. The way you were dragging your feet was a dead giveaway,” he said, and she could hear the cocky smile in his voice.

“No way! Were you stalking me or something?!”

“My apartment is this way too, idiot!!”

“That doesn’t mean–”

The words died in her throat as she turned around to find they were no more than a foot apart. He looked down at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“You’re studying so hard there’s no more room in your brain for comebacks!”

She took a step back, adjusting the bag on her arm. “I’m…that’s not…”

Her cheeks were burning, just like that afternoon at the train station. Being close to him had been much harder since then, despite the fact that she increasingly craved his company. How could someone like him make her feel so awkward?

“Let’s keep moving – I don’t have any extra meat to protect me from the cold,” Pin said with a smirk, rubbing his hands together as he walked past her.

“I-I don’t have any extra meat on me either, if that’s what you’re implying!” she stammered, running to catch up to him as his pace quickened.

The rain-darkened streets were empty and quiet save for the echoes of their coupled footsteps, soft and rhythmic, like a pulse. Her own heartbeat was aggressive and angry, so she kept her gaze fixed on the minute cracks in the pavement.

One look at him would kill her.

“Not too long before it snows,” Pin said, tilting his head back. “This year is really flying. Pretty soon you’ll be taking exams…”

“Don’t remind me,” she said, her shoulders slumping forward.

“You’re too young to be that tired!” he said, pointing a finger at her drooping posture.

“I’m doing my best, okay? Even when I sleep I dream about studying,” Ayane said, vigorously rubbing her eyes.

Too young. I’ll always be ‘too young’…

Pin suddenly turned away from her, hands clapped over his mouth. Panic ran cold down from her head. Had she said that last part out loud?!

“I-I can explain!!”

Then she heard them: the quietest of snorts.

“Are you…?”

The dam broke, and laughter erupted from deep in his chest.

“You must really be tired…your…eyes…BWAHAHAHAHA!!!”

What the…?

Her hands shook as she retrieved a compact mirror from her bag. Flipping the lid, she braced herself for the worst.

The eyeliner and mascara she had carefully reapplied before leaving the library were generously smeared around her eyelids, and her lashes were thick and clumped together, sticking out at strange angles. She’d been so wrapped up in their conversation that she’d rubbed her eyes without thinking!

“You’d give Kuronuma a run for her money!” he cried, wiping a tear from his eye.

This wasn’t how she’d wanted him to notice her efforts, but seeing the way this laughter brightened his face almost made up for the initial embarrassment. She could see the happy little creases at the edges of his eyes, the dimple winking near the corner of his mouth…

Her cheeks flushed as she turned her face away from him again. It was all too easy to get caught up staring at him.

“Hey, your face is kind of red. Are you feeling okay?”

She froze in her tracks. How could she play this off?

“I-It’s nothing…I’m just a little cold – that’s all!”

They continued walking without another word, and for the first time that evening Ayane could breathe a sigh of relief. Pin kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, as if lost in thought, but he seemed to have accepted her explanation. There had to be a way to control her blushing, or this would be a very long year…

Since their meeting at the train station, she’d become aware of the strange sensations he produced in the pit of her stomach. Light-headed and queasy, with heart racing, she’d been sure she was deathly ill at first. But with that intense nervousness there was intertwined a euphoric excitement that was addicting. She suddenly craved his presence; every afternoon as she walked the halls of Kitahoro High, she fanned a flicker of hope that they’d meet. That she’d catch a glimpse of him, or hear his wild voice reverberating through the walls.

I really am pathetic…

She was startled out of her thoughts by a slightly scratchy material brushing past her cheek.

Pin stood close to her side, wrapping a long, marled gray scarf around her in tight loops; before she could faint from the shock, he had stacked it all the way up to her eyes. Sputtering and more red than ever, she ripped the garment away from her face.

“W-What are you doing?!”

“You said you were cold, so I’m letting you borrow my scarf,” he said, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jacket.

“I can see that…but…” she said, grabbing each end of the scarf, “…don’t you need it?”

“You can’t afford to get sick right now.”

Her chest tightened, and for a moment she was sure there were tears in her eyes. He was worried about her health…!

Turning away from him, she carefully re-wound the scarf around her neck, adjusting the oversized garment as best she could. It had a distinct smell that was difficult to describe. Warm. Soft. Salty. Deep. Her eyes fluttered closed as she breathed it in.

His smell.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just give me a trash bag,” she said, smiling a little into the warm knit.

“Crap! And the convenience store’s up ahead too! Give that back to me,” he demanded, holding out his hand.

“Thank you,” she said, looking him in the face for the first time.

His expression seemed to soften, and his mouth curved into a gentle smile. Rubbing the back of his neck, he resumed their former pace.

“Yeah, well it looks silly on you,” he said with a mischievous grin.

“Then it goes great with my makeup,” she said, playfully blinking her smudged eyes at him.

He laughed, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky. “You’ve got that right!”

As they neared her house, Ayane gradually slowed her steps. Their walks never felt quite long enough, but tonight the idea of parting with him was almost unbearable. Why? She would see him again tomorrow, and the day after. But in the halls of Kitahoro there were a thousand reminders that despite their affinity, they really were living in two different worlds. There, they conversed across a wide desk, she in her uniform and Pin with a pen in his hand.

‘What do you think of me?’

The question still haunted her months after that meeting. She hadn’t meant anything by it, not then, but with each passing day, the desire to know his answer loomed over her thoughts. He had probably forgotten that exchange, as well as every one they’d ever had. She seemed to remember every word he said, but there was no way he did the same for her.

Why would he?

Sneaking a glance at his face in the cold, unnatural light of the street lamp, she felt a deep ache in her chest. Being this close to him would make it all the more difficult to be apart in the morning.

It wasn’t fair.

“Here we are,” he suddenly announced, stopping in front of the entrance to her house.

Do you want to come in? Just for a minute? I could make us some tea, or grab you a beer? We don’t have to drink anything. Oh, just to talk. I have a few questions about the application process…I know I could ask you at our next conference, but I thought I should do it while they’re fresh in my mind.

We don’t even have to speak. Being near you is enough for me.

“Be careful on your way home. Sawako told me she felt a presence today as we were leaving the library, so who knows where it is now. Those spirits move fast,” she said, quickly stepping onto the walkway.

“I HAVE TO GO!!” Pin yelled, sprinting down the street.

That’s that, then. See, it wasn’t so hard to split up, was it? You were sad for nothing…

As she turned the key in the lock she was suddenly aware of the weight around her neck.

Crap! I forgot to give him his scarf!

Slipping the key into her pocket and dropping her bag in front of the door, Ayane raced back towards the street.

He was running so fast earlier, I probably won’t be able to catch up –

But there he was, no more than a few yards ahead. She was surprised to see he was walking slowly, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

He’s braver than I thought…

“Pin! Wait!” she called, unwinding the scarf as she ran to meet him.

“AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!” he screamed, stumbling backwards as she approached. “Stay away from me, Spirit!!! I’m just a humble homeroom teacher, I’ve never done anything wrong and –”

She stopped in her tracks. Spirit?

“It’s…just…me…” she said, bending over a little to catch her breath.

“It’s just you, Yano…” he repeated, staring down at her with a look of wary relief in his eyes. “You know, it’s not nice to play pranks on your superiors!”

She held out his scarf. “Unlike you, I don’t enjoy tormenting people! Keep better track of your things.”

“You’re welcome,” Pin grumbled, reaching for the long garment. “Kids have no sense of gratitude these days!”

“You’re one to talk! I ran all the way over here to give it back to you when it would have been so much easier to just throw it in the trash once I got inside!” she yelled, her tongue lashing at Pin’s ego.

“Why, you – !”

They stood there for a few moments, bristling but silent in the cold night air. Ayane stared at her feet in an effort to obscure her blazing cheeks from his gaze. That wasn’t how she’d meant to react, but only he seemed capable of drawing those biting retorts out of her…

I should apologize.

“I’m…sorry. Thank you for letting me borrow your scarf,” she said quietly, still staring at the ground.

He didn’t answer her right away, and for a second she wondered if he was actually angry with her.

“Thanks for returning it.”

His soft voice took her by surprise. She met his eyes in spite of her self-consciousness, but her heart still leapt at the sight of him.

“It was nothing,” she said, feeling for the bag that was no longer on her shoulder. “I thought you’d be halfway to your apartment by now.”

He clicked his tongue at her, wrapping the massive scarf around his neck. On him the knit looked completely normal; she’d been swimming in it! She couldn’t help but stare as he effortlessly adjusted it. His long fingers were surprisingly elegant for their size, and they captured her attention with their precise movements.

They really are beautiful…

“Is something wrong? You kinda zoned out,” Pin said, waving his hand in front of her face.

A new surge of heat rushed to her cheeks at his sudden proximity, and she shook her head frantically to cover for it. Did he have any idea how he made her feel?

“Well, you should probably head home now. I don’t want to be blamed for distracting you!” he said with a laugh.

You have no idea!!

“R-Right!” she squeaked, trying to look sincere. “Thank you again…for the scarf.”

“Night, Yano,” he said with a gentle smile, turning away from her and starting down the lamp-lit street.

“Good night!” she called after him.

Pin answered her with a brief wave of his arm. As his impressive shape sank into the shadows at the end of the street, Ayane was suddenly overcome with the desire to follow him into that dark unknown.

What would it feel like to walk with him all the way back to an apartment they shared? 

Her house would be just another building they had to pass on the journey home, and not the end of their time together. Unlocking the door, she would see their shoes, side by side against the wall; though she’d make sure that hers were neatly placed, she’d leave his the way he haphazardly tossed them on the floor. She would scold him as a formality, but secretly she’d treasure the little signs that he lived there.

Dinner wouldn’t be anything special, just the cup noodles they had hiding in the back of the pantry. But he would loudly praise her for it while messily slurping it down, as if the way she carefully poured the boiling water into the Styrofoam had any bearing on the taste. He’d grin at her across the table, laughing at something his students did that day or teasing her about the way her face still turns red when she holds his hand.

At night, he would begrudgingly let her ruin the hairstyle he was so proud of. She’d run her fingers through his hair, ruffling the thick strands and assuring him that he was even more handsome with it down. He’d press a soft kiss to her lips.

‘That’s why you’re the only one who gets to see it,’ he’d say.

Lying together on the futon, she would insist that it’s time they buy a big, Western-style bed. He’d remind her that the apartment was too small for that, and besides, futons were much cooler. She’d snuggle closer to him in the dark, promising that she’d earn a raise soon and that once she did, they’d find a spacious house with room for a thousand beds, so he’d better get used to the idea. He’d scrunch up his face in mock-anger, declaring that if he gets the raise first, they’ll buy the spacious house, but they’ll sleep on this very futon for the rest of their lives!

She’d pretend to fall asleep to his arguing, and when he’d eventually realize that she’d drifted off, he’d let out a tiny, exasperated sigh.

‘You’re such a pain…’

He’d gently stroke her cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

‘Night, Ayane.’

When she’d finally hear the sound of his quiet snoring, she’d move even closer, burying her face in his chest. She’d always fall asleep this way, submerged in his deep, familiar scent, with his comforting pulse beating against her cheek.

‘Good night, Pin…’

Ayane covered her eyes, shoulders quivering in the chill of the night. Her silly, embarrassing fantasies were just that: fantasies.

All her life she’d taken pride in her sense of realism. People might have called her cynical or pessimistic, but she’d avoided a great deal of pain thanks to her outlook on life. Without any expectations she’d felt free to live without worry.

It wasn’t failing if she didn’t try in the first place.

Then Pin forced her to doubt everything she thought she knew about herself. She’d dismissed his suggestions at first, but, sure enough, beneath that cool, detached façade was a deep ambition she’d tried for years to ignore. ‘Ayane Yano’ was not the mature, aloof woman with both feet planted firmly on the ground.

She was a teenage dreamer reaching for a distant sky with stars in her eyes.

Now, without knowing it, he was inspiring all sorts of strange new feelings in the depths of her heart. At first she’d excused them as a kind of pathetic admiration for the lessons he’d taught her over the years. But admiration didn’t make you long for someone’s touch the way she longed for his.

“Admiration” didn’t capture the racing of her heart when she caught a glimpse of him.

Walking back towards her house, she resolved to fight against those persistent feelings by studying harder than ever. Pin’s face would be forced out of her mind by newly memorized algorithms and formulas. The sound of his voice drowned out by English CDs on repeat. Diagrams, essays, and case studies would supplant every last trace of him.

She just had to make it to graduation, and then all of the confusing sensations would disappear. They wouldn’t see each other regularly after that, and if she were accepted to J University in Tokyo, she probably wouldn’t see him ever again. She would eventually forget about him, and he would definitely forget about her.

The thought should have lightened her mood, but as she passed through the front door, she felt sick to her stomach.

 What am I going to do?

Thank you so much for reading! (Now go rest your poor eyes!)

There have been massive developments in the last few months for ayapin, but I wanted to explore what Ayane might have been going through in the period between Chapter 107 and Chapter 111. The first part takes place when they return from summer vacation, and the second takes place in late September / early October.

[morningpages-louise]

August 18, 2019

Yall. I just had the most depressing dream. I woke up crying to my parents. Crying so bad. Telling them I didn’t wanna go back to Canada if we were going back to Calgary. Telling them it would be so lonely. Thinking to myself I’m not ready to live in some suburban town with no culture and close-minded people. Thats what I associate Calgary with kasi. A little part of me is telling me to give the city another chance. Am I not being close minded by thinking like this? Who knows. But I woke up feeling tears in my eyes, and its had me really unsettled. Until now I still feel a bit weird. It felt so real. This Is why I shouldn’t get full hours of sleep. I get too deep in my sleep that I end up remembering my dreams. But hey on the bright side, it’s a Sunday. Its the 18th. Wtf where did august go. That was way too fast, but at the same time it feels like it went way too slow. Its 10:18 am. I woke up at 9:30. The first time I ever woke up so early. I just realized my alarm hasn’t gone off yet. Strange. But yeah. The dream kind of made me wake up and realize that I should make the most of my last few months here. My last year here in manila. Ive said it before, and I can say it again. I love Manila for the abundance of people you’ll find in here. And while I may not have the widest roster of friends, or even go out a lot for that matter, I love knowing that you have that community. I love knowing that you can do the same as well, be yourself, and that there will be people who will welcome you no matter what. There’s a community for you no matter where you go. I don’t know thats what I had in mind. So today, I was thinking of just doing my work in my condo, but I think ill go to single origins. It’s been a while man. Some things I have to do is come up with questions for Tela Manila and Kris’s friend. And then I take part 2 of week 1 of fashion revolution’s online lesson, which I’m honestly quite excited to read. I don’t know, its giving me ideas of how to go about my article, as well as shedding light on important stuff that I may not have been aware about. Sparking certain thoughts and ideologies. But yeah the sentimentalist in me just feels sad about leaving people and places behind. It’s so far away, yet I already feel like this. I guess on the bright side, it will allow me to never take anything for granted. To never not make the most of what you have, and boy do I have a lot. I don’t know man, but the dream just made me really sad. ANyways, in other news, today is the first day of my YWA at home retreat. I haven’t worked out in a while. Despite it being the first week I haven’t had to go to OJT in a while, it was still pretty hectic. I feel like I’ve devoted all my time to thesis at this point. Im currently in an affair with it, because I literally dedicate all my time in the day to it, and its crazy how much time it takes. Like it takes me a whole frikken day to think about it. Because It needs you to sit down, and really think about certain things, and so I can’t even imagine having done this during my ojt. How extremely difficult it would be to find the time. Because I cant respond to emails during work, since I always have to be at my top game. I don’t know, it just couldn’t have been done. I’ve been telling a lot of people lately that I don’t regret being deferred. In fact, I feel like its the right step. yes, I’m wasting money. I agree in that sense. But I don’t agree that I’m wasting time. In fact, these next 4 months are kind of like a breather. i feel like I’m being thrust out in the real world because technically I wont be inside the classroom no more. I’ll be learning from a different classroom. But at the same time, I still have that safety net to land on. To tell people that yeah, Im still in college. Because I am. Its so stupid.. I get so mad when people tell me, sayang. Like get the fuck outta here lol. The same people who are saying this are the same people who are scared shitless because they don’t know what they’re going to do. Nah, man. Im not about that. Hahay I’m thinking about weird things once again. Negative, toxic thoughts. There are just some thoughts you don’t even want to talk about or think about because you don’t want to relive it once more, even if its just in your head. I’m thinking about particular memories of mean girls in canada. But yeah. Ugh. okay, lets get this head started. I could keep writing down my thoughts, but frankly id be writing the whole day if I just kept at it. So bye. Off to a productive day. Time to get this dream away.

[melindarowens]

A Shortened Week Chock-Full-O-Data!

Good day… And a Tom Terrific Tuesday to you! I hope your Memorial Day Holiday weekend was grand… I have to tell you straight up, I did not cook, smoke or grill anything this past weekend. Probably the first time in my adult life that I didn’t light up a fire at some point to cook. I didn’t really get the opportunity to do so, I guess that’s my excuse!… Saturday, Andrew grilled for all the guests at Braden’s Birthday Party… Saturday, I was lost and all alone, and Sunday I attended the Cardinals game with my boys… I was doing much better with my CPAP machine, until last night… I had an awful night! And I’m doing something a little bit different this morning, instead of the wide variety of music that’s on my iPod I’m listening to the Allman Brothers concert that closed the Fillmore East in June of 1971… The recording is a little raw, and wouldn’t be acceptable in today’s digital word, but to me, I’m there… standing in the crowd, listening to Dickey Betts play his big red guitar, and Duane Allman slide guitar with Gregg Allman’s bluesy voice… We lost Gregg Allman this past weekend.. And so that’s why I’m reliving my days in the blues/ rock band playing my bass guitar to: In Memory of Elizabeth Reed… Oh, and don’t forget Jai Johnson on the drums!

The currencies lost their mojo on Friday in what seemed to be some interesting trading given most senior traders had already headed to the Hamptons. But Gold took a shot at the dollar, and didn’t miss, gaining more than $ 11 on the day, with 411,000 contracts traded! WOW! That’s just crazy, and I’m crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for trying and I’m crazy for loving you! It’s days like this for Gold that I tend to forget all the days that Gold gets sold for no particular reason… I guess it’s like the weather, for if it weren’t for the rainy days, you wouldn’t treasure the beautiful blue umbrella skies filled with sunshine.

The Currencies continued to slide in yesterday’s thinly traded market, with both the U.S. and U.K. on holiday, the euro slide further but the slides were small, and range bound it appeared to me, as I checked them out last night. This morning, the slide continues for the currencies, but again, the moves are small, and it appears that everyone is not in their places with bright shiny faces yet this morning.

Well, looky there! 1st QTR GDP was revised upward to 1.2% from the first print of 0.7%… Recall that I told you that it was thought that an upward revision to 0.9% was expected, so the revision beat expectations, and that lit a fire under the dollar to end the week and head into the weekend. The euro took the brunt of the dollar buying, just as it had benefited in reverse in the overnight trading on Friday, and was up VS the dollar. While this revision is nice in GPD, and does alleviate some of the fears that investors had about the economy, one has to take a step back and look under the hood… Come on, let’s look together, it’s fun looking under the hood!

Well, well, well, what have we here, a worn drive belt? (do cars today even have one of those?) No, what I’m talking about is a slowing of consumer spending… Yes, Consumption as it’s called, which always reminds me of the presentation Frank Trotter gave in Bermuda a few years ago, when he said, “everyone wants consumption, but as I walked through the cemetery here in Bermuda, the cause of death on most of the graves was “consumption”, so to me that doesn’t look like a very good thing to want.” And now back to what I was talking about… Consumption was revised up from 0.3% to 0.6%, but come on.. that still doesn’t pay the bills folks! This GDP revision was more about revisions to: Government spending (down, can you really believe that one?) and intellectual property investments (up, can you really believe that this is part of GDP?)

I shake my head at the games that are played with this data.. isn’t GDP supposed to be as easy as pie? GDP = C (consumer spending) + I (investment) + G (government spending + (X (exports) – M (imports)

But adding intellectual property sounds like someone is just trying to find things to add to make the number better… And reducing Gov’t spending? Really? Who are they trying to kid here, and I don’t think we’re their favorite goats! I wouldn’t buy that thought that Gov’t reduced spending, with your money! So, in my mind, I see the GDP for the 1st QTR as still very tepid, and right now having been goosed, because there’s no way the Fed could continue to hike rates with growth at just 0.7%… I’m just saying…

Oh, and remember the addition of Research & Development (R&D) to GDP a couple of years ago in hopes that it could goose GDP to get it to 3%? Once again, we’ve gone the extra yard to gather enough sticks to make a fire, and the fire still is just smoldering…

Well, this week is Holiday shortened, but that doesn’t mean we won’t get a ton of data around the world, but especially here in the U.S., starting with today’s Personal Income and Spending, the Case/Shiller Home Price Index, and Consumer Confidence. Thursday’s fare will include the ADP Employment Report, and the ISM Manufacturing Index, but most important to all data this week will be the May Motor Vehicle Sales report on Thursday.. I’ve talked about this in a previous Pfennigs (May 16 & 19) So, just know that this will be an important print… And on Friday, it will be a Jobs Jamboree Friday, but I don’t care about that anymore, so I mention it because everyone else seems to think it matters…

The Eurozone will see the final print of their May CPI (we’ve seen the flash reports, which showed consumer inflation backing off a bit, which is probably more of a reflection of the timing of Easter than anything bad) The Reserve Bank of New Zealand (RBNZ) will issue their Financial Stability & Review tonight, followed by a press conference by RBNZ Gov. Wheeler. I’ll be holding my breath tonight in anticipation of Wheeler dissing kiwi like he always does… I would think he would spend most of his time worrying about the housing bubble in Auckland instead of thinking of ways to talk down kiwi strength…

And, come on Chuck tie all this data talk up, it’s getting boring! OK! Finally, In Canada this week, they’ll print their latest Current Account Deficit, which will most likely show a widening, but don’t get your pants all twisted up here, Canada’s Current Account Deficit is only 2% of GDP… Now worries here, move along now…

So, the price of Oil really took off on Friday after the OPEC announcement… At first it was not pretty to watch the Oil traders take a pound of flesh from the price of Oil, but after they got that off their chests, they decided to buy once again, and the price of Oil rebounded back to a $ 49 handle, and last night when I checked the prices, Oil was $ 49.90, but… it has slipped about a quarter this morning, but still much better than the initial reaction after the OPEC meeting…

The Petrol Currencies got caught up in the Oil selling late last week, and they haven’t recovered with the price of Oil rebounding. And with the euro a bit weaker, the Norwegian krone, which last week was benefitting from euro and Oil price strength, is seeing the double boost it received last week, getting reversed now… UGH!

I was reading a Tweet I received the other day about how this person believes that China A shares will finally get included in the MSCI Emerging Markets (EM Index later in June… this would be HUGE for China to be included in this index, which is the bellwether for Emerging Markets Indexes. China has been banging on the MSCI’s door for years now to get their A Shares included, and I think that being included in the IMF’s roster of reserve currencies for Special Drawing Rights (SDR’s) last year, will go a long way toward seeing China reach their goal… This will be another step in their distribution of their currency folks.. Just another brick in the wall…. We don’t need no education… We don’t need no thoughts controlled, no dark sarcasm in the classroom, Teachers leave those kids alone… All in all it’s just another brick in the wall…

And here’s something that I borrowed from Ed Steer’s letter this morning (www.edsteergoldandsilver.com ) The Baltic Exchange’s main sea freight index, tracking rates for ships carrying dry bulk commodities, reported on Thursday that its index had fallen to its lowest since early March as demand slowed across all vessel segments. Interesting eh? I sure pulls the stakes holding down the Global Tent Revival’s tent!

This could be a very wild and wacky week for the currencies and metals, with all the data in the U.S., the fact that President Trump sent out a flurry of Tweets this weekend, and the fact that N. Korea fired off another missile this weekend, that was dangerously close to Japan, has the markets on edge, so we’ll have to roll with the punches this week and see where it takes us… Gold, in the early morning trading is down nearly $ 5 today, maybe that’s an indication of what we can expect this week? I certainly hope not!

To recap… A Holiday shortened week will be chock-full-o-data this week ending with the Jobs Jamboree on Friday, and having some very important prints in between, like the Vehicle Sales data for May on Thursday… The currencies lost their mojo on Friday, and haven’t been able to get it back since, but the moves are small and range bound. But Chuck thinks that will all change once everyone returns to their trading desks this week. Lots of things going on around the world this week, so strap yourself in, keep your arms and legs inside at all times, and let’s go for this ride!

For What It’s Worth… OK. Straight up here, I’m not promoting Apple.. I’m merely following up on something that Frank wrote about a couple of weeks ago in a Sunday Pfennig, regarding robots, and artificial intelligence… This can be found on Bloomberg here: https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2017-05-26/apple-said-to-plan-dedicated-chip-to-power-ai-on-devices

Or, here’s your snippet: “Apple Inc. got an early start in artificial intelligence software with the 2011 introduction of Siri, a tool that lets users operate their smartphones with voice commands.

Now the electronics giant is bringing artificial intelligence to chips.

Apple is working on a processor devoted specifically to AI-related tasks, according to a person familiar with the matter. The chip, known internally as the Apple Neural Engine, would improve the way the company’s devices handle tasks that would otherwise require human intelligence — such as facial recognition and speech recognition, said the person, who requested anonymity discussing a product that hasn’t been made public. Apple declined to comment.”

Chuck again… We live in interesting times, eh?

Currencies today 5/30/17… American Style: A$ .7452, kiwi .7072, C$ .7423, euro 1.1170, sterling 1.2865, Swiss $ .9760, … European Style: rand 13.1487, krone 8.4377, SEK 8.7442, forint 276.21, zloty 3.7373, koruna 23.6882, RUB 56.49, yen 110.96, sing 1.3856, HKD 7.7926, INR 64.58, China 6.8575, peso 18.55, BRL 3.2628, Dollar Index 97.37, Oil $ 49.53, 10yr 2.23%, Silver $ 17.31, Platinum $ 944.47, Palladium $ 795.23, Gold 1,266.00, and SGE Gold $ 1,266.53

That’s it for today… Thank you for Reading the Pfennig, and thank you for putting up with my long descriptions or recounts of my playing days regarding music… Here’s some more… It was less than 100 days that Duane Allman had to live after the June, 27 1971 concert that closed down the Fillmore East. He died in a motorcycle accident and then about 1 year later, bass player Berry Oakley also died in a motorcycle accident , less than 3 blocks from Duane’s fatal accident. The Allman Brothers would go on and continue making music for many years… But there was always something missing, in my humble opinion… I had just finished my sophomore year in High School in June of 1971… And don’t recall if I even knew the Allman Brothers existed then, but would get to know them the next couple of years, and by 1974, I was playing their music! I had a grand time at the Baseball Game yesterday with my “boys”.. .Andrew, Alex and Jerry… We had a blast! Even though we had to watch the Cardinals anemic offense! The 4 of us were together for Game 7 of the 2011 World Series Championship. I’ll never forget the feeling of being there with my “boys”… I’m on the 19 minute version of Whipping Post by the Allman Brothers to take us to the finish line today… And with that, I hope you have a Tom Terrific Tuesday… Be Good To Yourself!

Chuck Butler Managing Director EverBank Global Markets Creator / Editor of: A Pfennig For Your Thoughts 1-800-926-4922

http://www.everbank.com

The post A Shortened Week Chock-Full-O-Data! appeared first on Daily Pfennig.

Daily Pfennig

source http://capitalisthq.com/a-shortened-week-chock-full-o-data/ from CapitalistHQ http://capitalisthq.blogspot.com/2017/05/a-shortened-week-chock-full-o-data.html

[everettwilkinson]

A Shortened Week Chock-Full-O-Data!

Good day… And a Tom Terrific Tuesday to you! I hope your Memorial Day Holiday weekend was grand… I have to tell you straight up, I did not cook, smoke or grill anything this past weekend. Probably the first time in my adult life that I didn’t light up a fire at some point to cook. I didn’t really get the opportunity to do so, I guess that’s my excuse!… Saturday, Andrew grilled for all the guests at Braden’s Birthday Party… Saturday, I was lost and all alone, and Sunday I attended the Cardinals game with my boys… I was doing much better with my CPAP machine, until last night… I had an awful night! And I’m doing something a little bit different this morning, instead of the wide variety of music that’s on my iPod I’m listening to the Allman Brothers concert that closed the Fillmore East in June of 1971… The recording is a little raw, and wouldn’t be acceptable in today’s digital word, but to me, I’m there… standing in the crowd, listening to Dickey Betts play his big red guitar, and Duane Allman slide guitar with Gregg Allman’s bluesy voice… We lost Gregg Allman this past weekend.. And so that’s why I’m reliving my days in the blues/ rock band playing my bass guitar to: In Memory of Elizabeth Reed… Oh, and don’t forget Jai Johnson on the drums!

The currencies lost their mojo on Friday in what seemed to be some interesting trading given most senior traders had already headed to the Hamptons. But Gold took a shot at the dollar, and didn’t miss, gaining more than $ 11 on the day, with 411,000 contracts traded! WOW! That’s just crazy, and I’m crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for trying and I’m crazy for loving you! It’s days like this for Gold that I tend to forget all the days that Gold gets sold for no particular reason… I guess it’s like the weather, for if it weren’t for the rainy days, you wouldn’t treasure the beautiful blue umbrella skies filled with sunshine.

The Currencies continued to slide in yesterday’s thinly traded market, with both the U.S. and U.K. on holiday, the euro slide further but the slides were small, and range bound it appeared to me, as I checked them out last night. This morning, the slide continues for the currencies, but again, the moves are small, and it appears that everyone is not in their places with bright shiny faces yet this morning.

Well, looky there! 1st QTR GDP was revised upward to 1.2% from the first print of 0.7%… Recall that I told you that it was thought that an upward revision to 0.9% was expected, so the revision beat expectations, and that lit a fire under the dollar to end the week and head into the weekend. The euro took the brunt of the dollar buying, just as it had benefited in reverse in the overnight trading on Friday, and was up VS the dollar. While this revision is nice in GPD, and does alleviate some of the fears that investors had about the economy, one has to take a step back and look under the hood… Come on, let’s look together, it’s fun looking under the hood!

Well, well, well, what have we here, a worn drive belt? (do cars today even have one of those?) No, what I’m talking about is a slowing of consumer spending… Yes, Consumption as it’s called, which always reminds me of the presentation Frank Trotter gave in Bermuda a few years ago, when he said, “everyone wants consumption, but as I walked through the cemetery here in Bermuda, the cause of death on most of the graves was “consumption”, so to me that doesn’t look like a very good thing to want.” And now back to what I was talking about… Consumption was revised up from 0.3% to 0.6%, but come on.. that still doesn’t pay the bills folks! This GDP revision was more about revisions to: Government spending (down, can you really believe that one?) and intellectual property investments (up, can you really believe that this is part of GDP?)

I shake my head at the games that are played with this data.. isn’t GDP supposed to be as easy as pie? GDP = C (consumer spending) + I (investment) + G (government spending + (X (exports) – M (imports)

But adding intellectual property sounds like someone is just trying to find things to add to make the number better… And reducing Gov’t spending? Really? Who are they trying to kid here, and I don’t think we’re their favorite goats! I wouldn’t buy that thought that Gov’t reduced spending, with your money! So, in my mind, I see the GDP for the 1st QTR as still very tepid, and right now having been goosed, because there’s no way the Fed could continue to hike rates with growth at just 0.7%… I’m just saying…

Oh, and remember the addition of Research & Development (R&D) to GDP a couple of years ago in hopes that it could goose GDP to get it to 3%? Once again, we’ve gone the extra yard to gather enough sticks to make a fire, and the fire still is just smoldering…

Well, this week is Holiday shortened, but that doesn’t mean we won’t get a ton of data around the world, but especially here in the U.S., starting with today’s Personal Income and Spending, the Case/Shiller Home Price Index, and Consumer Confidence. Thursday’s fare will include the ADP Employment Report, and the ISM Manufacturing Index, but most important to all data this week will be the May Motor Vehicle Sales report on Thursday.. I’ve talked about this in a previous Pfennigs (May 16 & 19) So, just know that this will be an important print… And on Friday, it will be a Jobs Jamboree Friday, but I don’t care about that anymore, so I mention it because everyone else seems to think it matters…

The Eurozone will see the final print of their May CPI (we’ve seen the flash reports, which showed consumer inflation backing off a bit, which is probably more of a reflection of the timing of Easter than anything bad) The Reserve Bank of New Zealand (RBNZ) will issue their Financial Stability & Review tonight, followed by a press conference by RBNZ Gov. Wheeler. I’ll be holding my breath tonight in anticipation of Wheeler dissing kiwi like he always does… I would think he would spend most of his time worrying about the housing bubble in Auckland instead of thinking of ways to talk down kiwi strength…

And, come on Chuck tie all this data talk up, it’s getting boring! OK! Finally, In Canada this week, they’ll print their latest Current Account Deficit, which will most likely show a widening, but don’t get your pants all twisted up here, Canada’s Current Account Deficit is only 2% of GDP… Now worries here, move along now…

So, the price of Oil really took off on Friday after the OPEC announcement… At first it was not pretty to watch the Oil traders take a pound of flesh from the price of Oil, but after they got that off their chests, they decided to buy once again, and the price of Oil rebounded back to a $ 49 handle, and last night when I checked the prices, Oil was $ 49.90, but… it has slipped about a quarter this morning, but still much better than the initial reaction after the OPEC meeting…

The Petrol Currencies got caught up in the Oil selling late last week, and they haven’t recovered with the price of Oil rebounding. And with the euro a bit weaker, the Norwegian krone, which last week was benefitting from euro and Oil price strength, is seeing the double boost it received last week, getting reversed now… UGH!

I was reading a Tweet I received the other day about how this person believes that China A shares will finally get included in the MSCI Emerging Markets (EM Index later in June… this would be HUGE for China to be included in this index, which is the bellwether for Emerging Markets Indexes. China has been banging on the MSCI’s door for years now to get their A Shares included, and I think that being included in the IMF’s roster of reserve currencies for Special Drawing Rights (SDR’s) last year, will go a long way toward seeing China reach their goal… This will be another step in their distribution of their currency folks.. Just another brick in the wall…. We don’t need no education… We don’t need no thoughts controlled, no dark sarcasm in the classroom, Teachers leave those kids alone… All in all it’s just another brick in the wall…

And here’s something that I borrowed from Ed Steer’s letter this morning (www.edsteergoldandsilver.com ) The Baltic Exchange’s main sea freight index, tracking rates for ships carrying dry bulk commodities, reported on Thursday that its index had fallen to its lowest since early March as demand slowed across all vessel segments. Interesting eh? I sure pulls the stakes holding down the Global Tent Revival’s tent!

This could be a very wild and wacky week for the currencies and metals, with all the data in the U.S., the fact that President Trump sent out a flurry of Tweets this weekend, and the fact that N. Korea fired off another missile this weekend, that was dangerously close to Japan, has the markets on edge, so we’ll have to roll with the punches this week and see where it takes us… Gold, in the early morning trading is down nearly $ 5 today, maybe that’s an indication of what we can expect this week? I certainly hope not!

To recap… A Holiday shortened week will be chock-full-o-data this week ending with the Jobs Jamboree on Friday, and having some very important prints in between, like the Vehicle Sales data for May on Thursday… The currencies lost their mojo on Friday, and haven’t been able to get it back since, but the moves are small and range bound. But Chuck thinks that will all change once everyone returns to their trading desks this week. Lots of things going on around the world this week, so strap yourself in, keep your arms and legs inside at all times, and let’s go for this ride!

For What It’s Worth… OK. Straight up here, I’m not promoting Apple.. I’m merely following up on something that Frank wrote about a couple of weeks ago in a Sunday Pfennig, regarding robots, and artificial intelligence… This can be found on Bloomberg here: https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2017-05-26/apple-said-to-plan-dedicated-chip-to-power-ai-on-devices

Or, here’s your snippet: “Apple Inc. got an early start in artificial intelligence software with the 2011 introduction of Siri, a tool that lets users operate their smartphones with voice commands.

Now the electronics giant is bringing artificial intelligence to chips.

Apple is working on a processor devoted specifically to AI-related tasks, according to a person familiar with the matter. The chip, known internally as the Apple Neural Engine, would improve the way the company’s devices handle tasks that would otherwise require human intelligence — such as facial recognition and speech recognition, said the person, who requested anonymity discussing a product that hasn’t been made public. Apple declined to comment.”

Chuck again… We live in interesting times, eh?

Currencies today 5/30/17… American Style: A$ .7452, kiwi .7072, C$ .7423, euro 1.1170, sterling 1.2865, Swiss $ .9760, … European Style: rand 13.1487, krone 8.4377, SEK 8.7442, forint 276.21, zloty 3.7373, koruna 23.6882, RUB 56.49, yen 110.96, sing 1.3856, HKD 7.7926, INR 64.58, China 6.8575, peso 18.55, BRL 3.2628, Dollar Index 97.37, Oil $ 49.53, 10yr 2.23%, Silver $ 17.31, Platinum $ 944.47, Palladium $ 795.23, Gold 1,266.00, and SGE Gold $ 1,266.53

That’s it for today… Thank you for Reading the Pfennig, and thank you for putting up with my long descriptions or recounts of my playing days regarding music… Here’s some more… It was less than 100 days that Duane Allman had to live after the June, 27 1971 concert that closed down the Fillmore East. He died in a motorcycle accident and then about 1 year later, bass player Berry Oakley also died in a motorcycle accident , less than 3 blocks from Duane’s fatal accident. The Allman Brothers would go on and continue making music for many years… But there was always something missing, in my humble opinion… I had just finished my sophomore year in High School in June of 1971… And don’t recall if I even knew the Allman Brothers existed then, but would get to know them the next couple of years, and by 1974, I was playing their music! I had a grand time at the Baseball Game yesterday with my “boys”.. .Andrew, Alex and Jerry… We had a blast! Even though we had to watch the Cardinals anemic offense! The 4 of us were together for Game 7 of the 2011 World Series Championship. I’ll never forget the feeling of being there with my “boys”… I’m on the 19 minute version of Whipping Post by the Allman Brothers to take us to the finish line today… And with that, I hope you have a Tom Terrific Tuesday… Be Good To Yourself!

Chuck Butler Managing Director EverBank Global Markets Creator / Editor of: A Pfennig For Your Thoughts 1-800-926-4922

http://www.everbank.com

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