As suddenly as they had appeared, the teams stopped and flew up to the middle of the purpose built cavern, hovering there for all to see. Announcing to the crowd that the Crimson Crusaders would be playing in the red aura and the Indigo Warriors in the blue, the commentator wished both teams luck, before signing off.
A countdown of ten red crystals above each 'mouth' at both ends of the stadium, started to glow, and then individually wink out. As it did so, the crowd began to chant.
"9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3..."
The noise was almost unbearable.
"2... 1..."
Abruptly the crystals in the ceiling burst back on, illuminating the whole cavern. Out of a hole in the roof shot a glowing silver ball, about the size of a football. Quick as a flash, the dragons were on to it, batting it with their tails, moving faster than the eye could see, the human eye that is. With their enhanced senses, the dragon audience registered every millisecond of action. As the outfielders fought doggedly for possession of the laminium ball, tackling, blocking and dodging as if their lives depended on it, the 'mouth guards' from both teams beat hasty retreats back towards the areas they were tasked to defend.
The game itself was a scrappy affair; to say it was by no means a classic, was something of an understatement. But the fans loved every second of it, and were constantly on the edge of their seats, given exactly what was at stake. At one point, Barf made an awesome interception from one of the opposition’s outfielders, speeding off towards the 'mouth' the Warriors were attacking, rounding their 'mouth guard', and having a shot at an open 'mouth'. As he did so, Tank and Peter, along with nearly every other Indigo Warrior fan there, stood and willed him to score. Unbelievably, he missed, by some margin. Tank raised his hands to his head in dismay, but as he did so, realised just a little too late that he'd let go of the rest of his omelette. He spent the next few minutes apologising profusely to the nice family sitting in front of him, much to Peter's amusement.
Silverbonce made some absolutely stunning saves throughout the match, with nearly everybody agreeing, whether at the match, or in the newspapers the next day, that the Warriors would have been heavily defeated without him.
In the end, the game, scrappy as it was, was decided by one moment of brilliance. Silverbonce slapped the ball out to Steel who was high up, right at the top of the cavern. Bringing the ball beautifully under control, Steel tucked the ball under one arm and dropped down into a steep dive towards the lava, catching everyone, even his own teammates, by surprise, as he was still in his defensive half of the cavern, and way too far out to perform a 'flying dive'. With nobody in range to tackle him, Steel had a free run at the lava, and by the time he hit the surface, he was travelling at an alarming speed. Nobody could believe what they were seeing, all sure that it was some kind of bluff. As the seconds drained away, with Steel still missing, the Crimson Crusaders 'mouth guard' looked at first perplexed, and then worried. Fearing something dreadful had happened beneath the lava, the 'mouth guard' lost his concentration momentarily. In a fiery haze of smoking hot magma, up popped Steel behind the 'mouth guard', letting fly with the ball in one swift move. Striking one of the middle teeth true, the Warriors went in front.
Supporters from every corner of the stadium went absolutely mad, even most of the Crusader followers. Quick thinking on Peter's part led him to let off his STEEL IS THE BEST mantra, swiftly followed by everyone else that had splashed out on one. The glowing blue words lit up most of the cavern. Nobody had ever seen a goal like it. All of the Crimson Crusaders were dumbstruck. After that, they tried to get back into the match, but unsurprisingly, their confidence was shot, ending up lucky to lose by such a close margin.
As the final horn trumpeted, Warriors fans celebrated like never before, barely able to believe their team had made it through to the Global Cup for the first time in their history, with a shot at becoming the best on the planet.
Partying well into the night, most fans chose to celebrate at the stadium's food court and mall. The friends were both glad it was Saturday tomorrow, with both intent on having a lie-in before turning out for their respective hockey and rugby teams in the afternoon.
Much later, well into the early hours of the following day, Peter and Tank sat giddy with joy on the monorail, heading back to Salisbridge. Surrounded by a mixture of fans coming back from the match and everyday dragons going about their business, they were not only ecstatic at the result, but almost hoarse from all the screaming they'd done.
"I'll try and get tickets for the first round of the Global Cup," rasped Tank over the noise of the continuing festivities in the carriage.
"That would be great, but it could be absolutely anywhere on the planet, as not all the qualifiers have been played yet," responded Peter, as the words 'SILVERBONCE FOR KING' came whizzing down the carriage, narrowly missing his floppy hat, casting an eerie blue reflection in the darkened windows of the monorail car. Clearly not all the mantras had been used at the match.
Pulling into Salisbridge station at exactly 4.12am, Peter came to the conclusion that even with his supposed lie-in, he still wouldn't get very much sleep. Parting, sleepy eyed, the two went their separate ways, each knowing they would see the other later on in the day at the sports club. Ten minutes later, Peter was tucked up in bed, dreaming of Steel's audacious move and wishing that he could perform something amazing like that on the hockey pitch, later on that day.
5
Smokin'
Blaring into life at precisely twelve-thirty, the alarm shattered Peter's deep slumber, with the light from around the ill-fitting curtains in his bedroom preventing him from going back to sleep, despite burying his head firmly beneath his pillows for some time. Even though he felt exhausted, he grudgingly admitted defeat and threw back the duvet, planting his feet firmly on the floor. Slipping straight into his hockey kit, he stopped only to grab a bite to eat, his sticks and change of clothes already in the car. Fifteen minutes after waking up, he pulled into the overflowing car park of the sports club.
Walking to the changing rooms, he bumped into a few of his new found human teammates, who gave him a ribbing for looking rougher than a sandblasted tramp.
'If only they knew what I'd really been up to,' he thought. 'Their minds would be totally blown away.'
Ten minutes in the changing room came and went, as he put on his shin guards and fiddled with his stick, all the time listening to the captain talk about the tactical side of today's match.
Stripping off to reveal their matching orange tops and white shorts, they all marched purposefully outside to the Astroturf pitch to begin their warm up exercises, focused fully on what was to come, much of the clowning about forgotten. Usually the pitch was fully booked up on a Saturday, from around nine-thirty in the morning through to nearly six at night, with the use of the towering floodlights that encircled it. Today was no different, and as they all walked out, Peter noticed the men's first team were already playing in a match that looked as though it would end shortly. Heading to a small area of Astroturf reserved for warming up, behind one of the goals, separated by a metal fence, his opponents already there, knocking hockey balls to and fro, Peter started to go through his usual pre-game series of stretches. Five minutes later, with the action-packed match still going on in the background, he swapped the stretches for his stick, and started hitting a ball back and forth with one of his teammates, the rest of the squad doing likewise. With it nearly being time to start, Peter gathered in with the rest of his team, halfway through a conversation as to the identity of a new first team player nobody seemed to recognise. Peter listened as he continued to stretch.