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Scribbl 10
Issue 10, Spring 2604
with 'Father' Fanky
So, you have done the bio, you have chosen some very cool player’s portraits for your favourite positional, you have written some fluff, maybe done an interview with Scribbl… what else? Well… you can PIMP YOUR TEAM’S ICONS!
Before you start to mess around with your icons with photoshop, gimp or paint.net, give a look to this very short guide featuring some very basic but quite useful pointers.
First thing is that you want your icon to be a .png file that contains all 4 views of the chosen player (red front, red side, blue front, blue side).
The FUMBBL client needs 1 file for every type of player listed in the roster. So if you want to create more than one variant for the same type of player you have to include them in the same .png file. For example, the icons of 0-4 human blitzers are all included in 1 file and not 4 separate ones.
Next, you want your icons to be the right size. Let’s look at some examples:
St3 Players generally have a 28 pixel x 28 pixel icon. When you create a file remember that you have to consider the 4 different views so you’ll need a 112px (28x4) x 28px file.
If you want more variants for your player you need, of course, a bigger file, for example 112px x 56px (28x2).
St4 are 32px x32px
The Big Guys and other monstrosities are 38px x38px or 40px x40px (this is the biggest size that the client can handle).
Let’s not forget about the smaller players,
You can change the sizes of your custom icons but they must be always an even number. No 132 x 33 icons! Nope, nein, never ever.
Now, you have the file of the right size and you are ready to go further. What can you do to customise your icons?
Well, you can change the colours and/or change it from head to toe.
The standard icons generally use 3 shade of red and blue. Feel free to replace them with 3 shades of your favourite colour. Keep in mind that the icons will be shown on a green pitch so don’t go full camo!
You can have fun just changing some small details, drawing stuff yourself…
Or cut/paste from the many FUMBBL icons you can find around. Picasso once said: “Good artists copy, great artists steal” And he was pretty famous so must be right for sure!
Hey! I can hear you sayin’ “Fanky, but where can I find some cool icons to recycle?”
Please stop being so whiney and check this link!
https://fumbbl.com/p/icons?r=432
What else? Just a final tip for today’s Pimp Your Team’s Icons! When you have finished drawing and recolouring, do a couple of quick checks:
Check #1 Spot the almost invisible pixel! I suggest you create a green or grey layer in your .png file and put it right under the layer of your icons. This will help you see if some forgotten pixel is floating around unseen. Delete them with no mercy! NoOO mercy!
Check #2 Check again if you positioned the icons in the correct 28x28, 32x32 boxes, otherwise the client is going to cut them and create some fine abstract art with them.
All right folks, see you next time for Pimp Your Team’s Icons!
Year 4, Spring, Rd 3
Your favourite Ogres had some time off after their last game as Mork's Marines have sunk. Fans are hoping that this will lead to a change of fortune as the team didn't get their season off to a great start. Now read on...
Match day.
The sounds - A multitude of different languages bubbling together like some kind of halfling stew. Despite the variety of speech, the support of the two teams crossed all kinds of cultural and racial boundaries. Typical Chaos mutterings can be heard, spoken in regional dialects of dark speech and black tongue as well as some reikspiel from wasteland cultists, coupled with the grumbarth rumblings always present. But the chants transcend language, common rhythms and phrasings uniting these disparate elements into a cacophany of emotion
The sights - Despite this being the first home game for the Rattlers, they were outnumbered by Haunted Forest fans, legions of beasts and mutants and marauders and wildmen have packed the stands, dwarfing the Rattler's fans (as much as an ogre can ever be dwarfed). Fur, armour, skin, mutations all uniting into one writhing mass of colourful fans
The smells, my god the smells - these are beyond the description of this writer
The teams parade out onto the field with the cheering peaking at the emergence of Angus Porterhouse, famed star minotaur. Despite demanding a hefty price for his services, rumours had been flying prior to the game that he had been spotted in a nearby town a day prior. The ogres lose the toss and are put in to kick first. The cheers of the Forest fans to this slight triumph make it seem as though that team has won the game already but they are visibly filling their team with confidence.
A solid line of Mackrell, Baker, Eddis and Umpherston is deployed as first line of scrimmage, each guarding the others. The Chaos deploy low, favouring the south side of the pitch. A deep kick sails into the Forest half and we're off. Angus knocks Umpherston down leaving a gap for a beast to blitz through and badly hurt one of the loner snotlings exclusively hired for this match. The ogres retaliate by breaking the arm of Duane Strongstone, leaving the game at 10 v 10, and take an aggressive defensive position. The Forest continue pushing to the south but still haven't left their own half by the time another beast is knocked out. Angus roars and charges headlong into Umpherston, knocking the ogre down with a sickening thud. The stretcher snotlings rush on and just about remove the giant ogre. 9 v 9 and we're not even halfway through the half. Some superb ogre positioning leads to the ball carrier being pushed into the crowd but due to the crowd's composition they give a favourable throw to the Forest. However the Chaos players are leaving the pitch at such a rate it is unsure if they will be able to capitalise.
A weak play from the Rattlers sees the Forest with an easy score on their hands but the stand in player, Duane Palehawk, chooses to try and grind down the turns instead of running the ball in. His team easily remove another snotling from the field and stun the remaining green guy, going part of the way to levelling the players as it is now 7 v 8. This is truly an attrition game. A blitz into Leroy Stronghaw sees Middlemast free to mark the ball carrying beast as on the otherside of the pitch a further beast is badly hurt, this time at the hands of Oswell.
Angus roars to his feet and powers into Eddis but is unable to do more than push the ogre back. The crowd grow quiet as they know it's time for the important act of the half, as ball carrying Palehawk attempts to escape his ogre marker. Oooooohhhh, he trips and falls, showing the disadvantage of hiring stand in players who don't reach the same standard of play as a fully trained roster member. The ogres are in a strong position now but look unlikely to be able to score as the clock ticks over to indicate 1/4 of the first half remains. Angus is knocked down, the ball is marked and Middlemast, the fastest ogre on the team, goes for the pick up. But he fumbles it too and the ball once again goes into the hands of the Forest fans in the crowd who eagerly throw it back to a position giving their team the advantage.
Once again it's Angus who is in the thick of the action, but this time he's not looking as confident as he sees the swarm of ogres closing in on him. But still, he earns his wage, knocking down Eddis and marking the ball while the rest of his team dodge away from the ogre's grasping fists and try to get in scoring positions as the half's remaining minutes tick away. The ogres give as good as they get, reinstating their players around the ball, pushing Angus away whilst the snotling Scrubbalick finally remembers he is part of the team and heads into the Chaos half, hoping the ball will end in his tiny hands.
Match day.
The sounds - A multitude of different languages bubbling together like some kind of halfling stew. Despite the variety of speech, the support of the two teams crossed all kinds of cultural and racial boundaries. Typical Chaos mutterings can be heard, spoken in regional dialects of dark speech and black tongue as well as some reikspiel from wasteland cultists, coupled with the grumbarth rumblings always present. But the chants transcend language, common rhythms and phrasings uniting these disparate elements into a cacophany of emotion
The sights - Despite this being the first home game for the Rattlers, they were outnumbered by Haunted Forest fans, legions of beasts and mutants and marauders and wildmen have packed the stands, dwarfing the Rattler's fans (as much as an ogre can ever be dwarfed). Fur, armour, skin, mutations all uniting into one writhing mass of colourful fans
The smells, my god the smells - these are beyond the description of this writer
The teams parade out onto the field with the cheering peaking at the emergence of Angus Porterhouse, famed star minotaur. Despite demanding a hefty price for his services, rumours had been flying prior to the game that he had been spotted in a nearby town a day prior. The ogres lose the toss and are put in to kick first. The cheers of the Forest fans to this slight triumph make it seem as though that team has won the game already but they are visibly filling their team with confidence.
A solid line of Mackrell, Baker, Eddis and Umpherston is deployed as first line of scrimmage, each guarding the others. The Chaos deploy low, favouring the south side of the pitch. A deep kick sails into the Forest half and we're off. Angus knocks Umpherston down leaving a gap for a beast to blitz through and badly hurt one of the loner snotlings exclusively hired for this match. The ogres retaliate by breaking the arm of Duane Strongstone, leaving the game at 10 v 10, and take an aggressive defensive position. The Forest continue pushing to the south but still haven't left their own half by the time another beast is knocked out. Angus roars and charges headlong into Umpherston, knocking the ogre down with a sickening thud. The stretcher snotlings rush on and just about remove the giant ogre. 9 v 9 and we're not even halfway through the half. Some superb ogre positioning leads to the ball carrier being pushed into the crowd but due to the crowd's composition they give a favourable throw to the Forest. However the Chaos players are leaving the pitch at such a rate it is unsure if they will be able to capitalise.
Moment of the Match
A weak play from the Rattlers sees the Forest with an easy score on their hands but the stand in player, Duane Palehawk, chooses to try and grind down the turns instead of running the ball in. His team easily remove another snotling from the field and stun the remaining green guy, going part of the way to levelling the players as it is now 7 v 8. This is truly an attrition game. A blitz into Leroy Stronghaw sees Middlemast free to mark the ball carrying beast as on the otherside of the pitch a further beast is badly hurt, this time at the hands of Oswell.
Angus roars to his feet and powers into Eddis but is unable to do more than push the ogre back. The crowd grow quiet as they know it's time for the important act of the half, as ball carrying Palehawk attempts to escape his ogre marker. Oooooohhhh, he trips and falls, showing the disadvantage of hiring stand in players who don't reach the same standard of play as a fully trained roster member. The ogres are in a strong position now but look unlikely to be able to score as the clock ticks over to indicate 1/4 of the first half remains. Angus is knocked down, the ball is marked and Middlemast, the fastest ogre on the team, goes for the pick up. But he fumbles it too and the ball once again goes into the hands of the Forest fans in the crowd who eagerly throw it back to a position giving their team the advantage.
Once again it's Angus who is in the thick of the action, but this time he's not looking as confident as he sees the swarm of ogres closing in on him. But still, he earns his wage, knocking down Eddis and marking the ball while the rest of his team dodge away from the ogre's grasping fists and try to get in scoring positions as the half's remaining minutes tick away. The ogres give as good as they get, reinstating their players around the ball, pushing Angus away whilst the snotling Scrubbalick finally remembers he is part of the team and heads into the Chaos half, hoping the ball will end in his tiny hands.
And it's come to this, the final play of the half for the Forest Sons. Angus pushes Eddis away from the ball, Duane Palehawk hopes for redemption by dodging into the endzone with his hoofs in the air, ready for the catch. Then it's up to Leroy Stronghaw to pull off a miracle, to retrieve the ball and throw it into Palehawk's waiting arms. He dodges, he goes for it, again, he picks up, the crowd hold their breath, silence as the ball whistles through the air, straight as a dart it flies, directly into the crowd.
A deep bass chuckle comes from the home team's stands but they know how close it was. That could so easily have been a score. But as it is, the boot is on the other foot as there is a chance that a flying snotling could salvage the half for the Rattlers. But no, the excitement of the half is too much for Middlemast as he wastes the chance by collapsing to the floor with exhaustions while tackling Stronghaw.
Half time. Orange slices all round and some fun entertainment by the Chaos All Star marching band playing the hits of Al Jolson. Although I don't think they were pom poms in the cheerleader's hands.
Boom. Boom. Boom. There must have been some team talk going on in the ogre's dressing room as you could hear their gutteral shouts and foot stomps resonate throughtout the stadium. They marched out onto the pitch and despite being an ogre down, the sight of 7 ogres on the LOS must have sent a chill up the spine of the sonrises, the chaos coach. Two snotlings are left in the backfield to receive the ball. And we're off. Mackrell is confused. Lawrence removes a beastman. Eddis is confused. Rinse repeat. The snotlings run back to cover the ball, assisted by Middlemast, whilst the rest of the ogres push slowly into Forest's half. The Sons of Chaos retaliate by splitting their force, 4 heading north to try and intercept the ball, 4 holding the central line and taking down Baker but the big guy is only knocked over. The ogres push forward, refusing to yield an inch to the Chaos, marking them wherever they can. Another Son is taken out, this time a KOd warrior, and things are looking hairy for the Chaos as they're down to 7 but the ball is still loose. Angus shows why he's a star but not taking his eye off it, are we heading for a Minotaur touchdown later in the game? The rest of his squad advance through a hole in the ogre defence into the Rattlers half.
And just when things seem lost for the ogres, they have one of those turns which they are known for. The ball is secured and caged, Angus is taken down, most of the Chaos players are marked and we're not halfway through the half. This looks promising. These things can't last forever though as Middlemast is knocked out but it's still not looking bad for the ogres as the ball progresses close to the halfway line, and Pottinger just needs to dodge away to form the other corner of the cage. Of course, I say this as though it's a simple thing, my faith in the ogres knowing no bounds. But despite the nimble and elegant feet on this ogre, he is still a hulking mass and trips, leaving the ball exposed for an easy attack from a chaos warrior, Rath Koulm.
But what's this? Rath tackles the wrong snotling leaving a confused (and very grateful) Grottleblagh still holding the ball. He runs as fast as his little legs can carry him in between the ogres and stands there, thumbing his nose. A solid cage on the halfway line but the clock is ticking down.
Sensing a change in the tempo, the chaos retreat somewhat. A sweeper, Albert Goldfi, scurries into the back field, showing how seriously sonrises takes this ogre drive that he's willing to remove a player from the maul. Grottleblagh is not fazed however, he continues his journey, a modern day Odysseus heading towards the sideline having endured his own trojan war.
Panic appears to be driving the chaos now; the impact of losing a player from the pitch with every couple of ogre tackles is rising a musky scent of despair into the air. Their fans, sensing this, are whipping themselves up into more of a frenzy, hoping their dedication will inspire their team to achieve some miraculous results. And it works to some extent as Rath Koulm is able to mark Grottleblagh, just unable to tackle him. A lot depends on the ogre blitz here and there's no ogre you'd rather depend on than the most experienced player on the team, Basil Eddis. He expertly knocks down Rath, stunning him so he'll play no further part in this match. Angus too is stunned. Baker considers making it a triple stun but decides instead to remain stoic for fear of confusion. In this situation sweeper Goldfi would be forced to attempt to muscle past Baker if he wished to tackle Grottle. And that seems unlikely given the ogre's girth.
Goldfi tries anyway, making the harder of the dodges look easy, then making the easier of the dodges look hard as he falls to the floor leaving Grottleblagh free to cross the line with the ball. ONE - NIL OGRES!!! And with seconds on the clock too. I daren't dream but the crowd do as the whooping, cheering and shirt helicoptering. A word of warning to our younger fans. When an ogre starts shirt helicoptering your first concern should not be to ask what a helicopter is, as I saw several younger fans near this certain ogre doing. Your first concern should be to get out of the way as quickly as possible as an ogre's shirt is typically stiff with sweat and stains as well as often containing some form of chainmail.
In the mayhem that followed, with several parts of several fans raining down onto the pitch, the final whistle was blown. What a performance by the whole team, truly the first time this season we've seen the boys come together as a team and become more than the sum of their part. Roll on the final fixture vs the orcs!
A deep bass chuckle comes from the home team's stands but they know how close it was. That could so easily have been a score. But as it is, the boot is on the other foot as there is a chance that a flying snotling could salvage the half for the Rattlers. But no, the excitement of the half is too much for Middlemast as he wastes the chance by collapsing to the floor with exhaustions while tackling Stronghaw.
Half time. Orange slices all round and some fun entertainment by the Chaos All Star marching band playing the hits of Al Jolson. Although I don't think they were pom poms in the cheerleader's hands.
Boom. Boom. Boom. There must have been some team talk going on in the ogre's dressing room as you could hear their gutteral shouts and foot stomps resonate throughtout the stadium. They marched out onto the pitch and despite being an ogre down, the sight of 7 ogres on the LOS must have sent a chill up the spine of the sonrises, the chaos coach. Two snotlings are left in the backfield to receive the ball. And we're off. Mackrell is confused. Lawrence removes a beastman. Eddis is confused. Rinse repeat. The snotlings run back to cover the ball, assisted by Middlemast, whilst the rest of the ogres push slowly into Forest's half. The Sons of Chaos retaliate by splitting their force, 4 heading north to try and intercept the ball, 4 holding the central line and taking down Baker but the big guy is only knocked over. The ogres push forward, refusing to yield an inch to the Chaos, marking them wherever they can. Another Son is taken out, this time a KOd warrior, and things are looking hairy for the Chaos as they're down to 7 but the ball is still loose. Angus shows why he's a star but not taking his eye off it, are we heading for a Minotaur touchdown later in the game? The rest of his squad advance through a hole in the ogre defence into the Rattlers half.
And just when things seem lost for the ogres, they have one of those turns which they are known for. The ball is secured and caged, Angus is taken down, most of the Chaos players are marked and we're not halfway through the half. This looks promising. These things can't last forever though as Middlemast is knocked out but it's still not looking bad for the ogres as the ball progresses close to the halfway line, and Pottinger just needs to dodge away to form the other corner of the cage. Of course, I say this as though it's a simple thing, my faith in the ogres knowing no bounds. But despite the nimble and elegant feet on this ogre, he is still a hulking mass and trips, leaving the ball exposed for an easy attack from a chaos warrior, Rath Koulm.
But what's this? Rath tackles the wrong snotling leaving a confused (and very grateful) Grottleblagh still holding the ball. He runs as fast as his little legs can carry him in between the ogres and stands there, thumbing his nose. A solid cage on the halfway line but the clock is ticking down.
Sensing a change in the tempo, the chaos retreat somewhat. A sweeper, Albert Goldfi, scurries into the back field, showing how seriously sonrises takes this ogre drive that he's willing to remove a player from the maul. Grottleblagh is not fazed however, he continues his journey, a modern day Odysseus heading towards the sideline having endured his own trojan war.
Panic appears to be driving the chaos now; the impact of losing a player from the pitch with every couple of ogre tackles is rising a musky scent of despair into the air. Their fans, sensing this, are whipping themselves up into more of a frenzy, hoping their dedication will inspire their team to achieve some miraculous results. And it works to some extent as Rath Koulm is able to mark Grottleblagh, just unable to tackle him. A lot depends on the ogre blitz here and there's no ogre you'd rather depend on than the most experienced player on the team, Basil Eddis. He expertly knocks down Rath, stunning him so he'll play no further part in this match. Angus too is stunned. Baker considers making it a triple stun but decides instead to remain stoic for fear of confusion. In this situation sweeper Goldfi would be forced to attempt to muscle past Baker if he wished to tackle Grottle. And that seems unlikely given the ogre's girth.
Goldfi tries anyway, making the harder of the dodges look easy, then making the easier of the dodges look hard as he falls to the floor leaving Grottleblagh free to cross the line with the ball. ONE - NIL OGRES!!! And with seconds on the clock too. I daren't dream but the crowd do as the whooping, cheering and shirt helicoptering. A word of warning to our younger fans. When an ogre starts shirt helicoptering your first concern should not be to ask what a helicopter is, as I saw several younger fans near this certain ogre doing. Your first concern should be to get out of the way as quickly as possible as an ogre's shirt is typically stiff with sweat and stains as well as often containing some form of chainmail.
In the mayhem that followed, with several parts of several fans raining down onto the pitch, the final whistle was blown. What a performance by the whole team, truly the first time this season we've seen the boys come together as a team and become more than the sum of their part. Roll on the final fixture vs the orcs!
Grottleblagh
7
Charles Umpherston Aitchison
2
Gyles Mackrell
6
Samuel White Baker
6
Basil Eddis
7
Eldred Pottinger
5
William Cotton Oswell
5
John Laird Mair Lawrence
6
E. W. Middlemast
5
Brian Darkshield
-10
Scrubbalick
5
On the pitch for 75% of the game, how many times can that be said about a snotling. Integral to the crowd surf too.
Ball Possession
Agony Aunt Column
With Nun the Wiser
With Nun the Wiser
Can’t score on or off the pitch?
Is the wife turned off by your latest mutation?
Are you being picked on for supporting the that team... who were they?
If you are a player, coach or fan with problems like these, or anything else, then write in to Nun the Wiser at this address for honest, wholesome advice.
Is the wife turned off by your latest mutation?
Are you being picked on for supporting the that team... who were they?
If you are a player, coach or fan with problems like these, or anything else, then write in to Nun the Wiser at this address for honest, wholesome advice.
Nun the Wiser says:
"A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold."
"A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold."
Dear Nun the Wiser,
I big pink monster! Raar Raar! RAAR!
Last week I play match I no remember. I told I take big hit with club and is out for 3 days.
Now I different. I not feel so strong and I maybe go colour-blind too as I now blue. Also, now I see other monster running about that looks like me...
Is I dead?
- Split-personality, in the Realms of Chaos
Dear Split Personality,
Pull yourself together! You most certainly are not dead, but it does sound like you should perhaps visit an apothecary or something, I mean, what do you want me to do about it?! Stop being a big cry-baby monster and get yourself back out on the pitch. As soon as you are playing again I’m sure you will feel much better and be back to your normal self again in no time!
- Nun The Wiser
I big pink monster! Raar Raar! RAAR!
Last week I play match I no remember. I told I take big hit with club and is out for 3 days.
Now I different. I not feel so strong and I maybe go colour-blind too as I now blue. Also, now I see other monster running about that looks like me...
Is I dead?
- Split-personality, in the Realms of Chaos
Dear Split Personality,
Pull yourself together! You most certainly are not dead, but it does sound like you should perhaps visit an apothecary or something, I mean, what do you want me to do about it?! Stop being a big cry-baby monster and get yourself back out on the pitch. As soon as you are playing again I’m sure you will feel much better and be back to your normal self again in no time!
- Nun The Wiser
Dear Nun The Wiser,
I write to you on behalf of all seven of the Tor Anroc Anglers fans to implore you to use your status with the CIBBL league committee to get the Tor Anroc Anglers reinstated to the league.
At the final whistle of the Anglers’ final match a definite chill was felt by all throughout the stadium as the temperature of the Great Ocean dropped a degree. Without the Anglers the Great Ocean is a colder place and the CIBBL league is all the poorer. Please can you take whatever action to persuade the Anglers’ management team to renege on their retirement and the CIBBL administration staff to reinstate the team into the league structure.
- Tor Anroc Anglers Official Supports Trust
Dear Tor Anroc Anglers Official Supports Trust,
Alas, for that ship has sailed. The water has already passed under the bridge. The tide has gone out and the Tor Anroc Anglers have sunk beneath the waves.
We may well have all pretended to dislike the Anglers but woe upon us for we pretended too well(!) and one of the greatest, most decorated teams in CIBBL history hast now departed the CIBBL shores.
Perhaps, given time, a new Sea Elves team will take up the mantle and the Great Ocean will warm once again.
But until that time we shall all shiver as pirates shalt rule the seas …
- Nun The Wiser
I write to you on behalf of all seven of the Tor Anroc Anglers fans to implore you to use your status with the CIBBL league committee to get the Tor Anroc Anglers reinstated to the league.
At the final whistle of the Anglers’ final match a definite chill was felt by all throughout the stadium as the temperature of the Great Ocean dropped a degree. Without the Anglers the Great Ocean is a colder place and the CIBBL league is all the poorer. Please can you take whatever action to persuade the Anglers’ management team to renege on their retirement and the CIBBL administration staff to reinstate the team into the league structure.
- Tor Anroc Anglers Official Supports Trust
Dear Tor Anroc Anglers Official Supports Trust,
Alas, for that ship has sailed. The water has already passed under the bridge. The tide has gone out and the Tor Anroc Anglers have sunk beneath the waves.
We may well have all pretended to dislike the Anglers but woe upon us for we pretended too well(!) and one of the greatest, most decorated teams in CIBBL history hast now departed the CIBBL shores.
Perhaps, given time, a new Sea Elves team will take up the mantle and the Great Ocean will warm once again.
But until that time we shall all shiver as pirates shalt rule the seas …
- Nun The Wiser
King Carol I gazing at one of his CIBBL awards as he prepares for a long slumber.
As the final game ends and King Carol I had already left the pitch and headed for the locker room a couple of plays earlier, the rest of the Elită just look at one another, confused, seemingly not knowing what to do.
The coach calls out to them and tells them all to head for the locker room. As they file into the locker room under the stadium, they see their King sitting on a bench with his head hanging down.
"Gather around, everyone," Carol demands in a low hushed tone. "I want to thank each of you for your service to this team. This was my desire to play this game on it's biggest stage, and each of you made that possible by being a part of it. Many gave their existence to the cause. Overall, I would have liked more success as a team, but I take the full blame for not getting us there. But at this time I need rest. I will enter a deep slumber at this time. Will I ever step onto a CIBBL pitch again? I'm not sure. But for now the slumber is calling for me. Please, Coach, extend my Appreciation and Gratitude to CIBBL and the rest of the First Families for the opportunity to play against the finest competition."
With that King Carol I leaves the locker room and heads toward his sarcophagus in the Team Office.
Carol I, aka The King finishes his CIBBL career as the All-Time CAS leader with 51 CAS on 375 Blocks in 41 Matches (1,24/match). Currently in Second place is fellow Sylvanian star Draco Dracovich at 38 CAS. At the time of his retirement, Carol's 375 career blocks puts him 2nd All-Time in that category. And he did that is 496 turns played, No one else in the TOP 5 has played less than 623 turns. So he blocked early and often (9,15 blocks/match). He also retires as the CIBBL player with the most SPP. At 170 he is just 6 SPP shy of Legendhood, but we all know he is the most Legendary player in the History of the league even without hitting that official number. His 12 MVP's also put him at the top of that list as well.
Carol I's career consisted of 40 straight games without missing a start, then the Niggle in game 40, a missed game, and then his final 41st against arch rival Way of the Dragon. During his career he earned 9 Prestige points:
Personal Awards: (9 Prestige Points)
Youthful Vibrance
Awarded to best players of one of the Youngbloods tournaments. Worth 1 Prestige Point to the team as long as that player is on the team.
For Casualties
Star Player
Awarded to any player reaching 51+ SPP. Player is recognized as one of the absolute stars of the league. Worth 1 Prestige Point to the team as long as that player is on the team.
Triple X
Awarded to player hitting 3+ casualties in one match. Worth 1 Prestige Point to the team as long as that player is on the team.
-vs Bigwood Tree Shmashaz, Year 2, Summer
-vs Oxyl Great Pyramid Heroes, Year 2, Autumn
-vs Norscan Curse, Year 2, Autumn
-vs True Roots of Khaine, Year 2, Autumn
-vs Way of the Dragon, Year 3, Spring
-vs Modryn's Midnight Meddlers, Year 3, Autumn
Bronze Excellence
Awarded to best players of Bronze division tournament. Worth 1 Prestige Point to the team as long as that player is on the team.
For Casualties and SPP in Year 2, Autumn
Super Star Player
Awarded to any player reaching 76+ SPP. Player is recognized as one of the absolute stars of the league. Worth 1 Prestige Point to the team as long as that player is on the team.
Blood For The Bloodline
Awarded to best players of the Sylvania Regionals. Worth 1 Prestige Point to the team as long as that player is on the team.
For Casualties and SPP in Year 3, Spring
Mega Star Player
Awarded to any player reaching 126+ SPP. Player is recognized as a mega star of the league. Worth 1 Prestige Point to the team as long as that player is on the team.
Style Points
Awarded to best players of the Styles Clash tournament. Worth 1 Prestige Point to the team as long as that player is on the team.
For SPP in Year 3 Summer.
Copper Excellence
Awarded to best players of Copper division tournament. Worth 1 Prestige Point to the team as long as that player is on the team.
For Casualties and SPP in Year 3 Autumn.
Hi, Stan. S. Stansman here.
Since the Black Flags sensational spring triumph, my phone's been ringing off the hook. New coaches are thinking - how do I do it? how do I crush a respected franchise like the Anglers with such ferocity and guile that they sink below the water, never to rise again?
The answer's simple. You know how the game starts - you're in your own half, you kick to the Anglers, and the Anglers gets the ball?
Well, what if you weren't in your own half?
What if you were in the Anglers' half?
Kick 1:
The Anglers set up with the ol' massive gap in the middle defence, but Capn Jack Calico can spot that tactic with his laser-like vision,, and instructs his scallywag team-mates to kick it, err, two paces in front of the Ogres.
The Anglers were cod out; indeed, you could even say they were cod cold
RESULT:
Already 1-0 up, Sartosa add a quick score to make it 2-0.
Kick 2:
The Anglers set up the same, but this time, the kicking team make a bit of a mess of the instructions, and kick it to the only square they shouldn't have. The Cap'n cuts an Angler in half, though, and Ibhib does some particularly egregious dodging to ensure the fun times continue.
The Anglers had taken the the bait again.
RESULT:
Disaster! Ibhib spills the ball and the pesky Anglers pull one back, 2-1! The Black Flags and reconvene, discussing tactics for the second half. Maybe more blitzing?
Kick 3:
Start of the 2nd half now, and this one can be called the 'traditional blitz', where the ball is kicked deep and the very fast elf runs after it, exposing him to countless punches and eventually a lucky score. Note even more egregious dodging of the second elf at the end there. The Anglers haddock got a clue how to stop this.
RESULT:
With a slender lead in the half, after much falling over and handing off to Pirates, the Black Flags convert another and make it 3-1!
Kick 4:
A rewind of kick 3, but this one is even better, with yet more Cap'n CASing! Or would be better, had a pirate not fallen over in attempting to establish a defensive position, and Ibhib then spilled the ball.
The Anglers got caught: hook, line and sinker!
RESULT:
Another one goes awry! The Anglers steal it back, throw it down field, and score again, brining it back 3-2.
Luckily, the Black Flags added a further two scores for a thumping 5-2 victory and a glorious Great Ocean banner to sail from the mast. Oh, and a Sea-Elf's leg, that Cap'n Jack picked up back on Blitz 2. What a performance from all concerned!
Black Flags management would also recommend bribing CIBBL officials to allow the game to be played on the good ship Golden Dirk, bribing the Snotling Rewind crew to turn their cameras off during the kickoffs to remove any replay evidence of skullduggery, and bribing one of their own pirates to replace the keel-hauled referee. We didn't even need to bribe the last lad, as he actually on the payroll, but it seemed fitting.
So that's all from me, Stan S. Stansman, and I'll see you next time for more excellent tactical play. Until then, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of branded rum!
Yours faithfully
Stan S. Stansman
Since the Black Flags sensational spring triumph, my phone's been ringing off the hook. New coaches are thinking - how do I do it? how do I crush a respected franchise like the Anglers with such ferocity and guile that they sink below the water, never to rise again?
The answer's simple. You know how the game starts - you're in your own half, you kick to the Anglers, and the Anglers gets the ball?
Well, what if you weren't in your own half?
What if you were in the Anglers' half?
Kick 1:
The Anglers set up with the ol' massive gap in the middle defence, but Capn Jack Calico can spot that tactic with his laser-like vision,, and instructs his scallywag team-mates to kick it, err, two paces in front of the Ogres.
The Anglers were cod out; indeed, you could even say they were cod cold
RESULT:
Already 1-0 up, Sartosa add a quick score to make it 2-0.
Kick 2:
The Anglers set up the same, but this time, the kicking team make a bit of a mess of the instructions, and kick it to the only square they shouldn't have. The Cap'n cuts an Angler in half, though, and Ibhib does some particularly egregious dodging to ensure the fun times continue.
The Anglers had taken the the bait again.
RESULT:
Disaster! Ibhib spills the ball and the pesky Anglers pull one back, 2-1! The Black Flags and reconvene, discussing tactics for the second half. Maybe more blitzing?
Kick 3:
Start of the 2nd half now, and this one can be called the 'traditional blitz', where the ball is kicked deep and the very fast elf runs after it, exposing him to countless punches and eventually a lucky score. Note even more egregious dodging of the second elf at the end there. The Anglers haddock got a clue how to stop this.
RESULT:
With a slender lead in the half, after much falling over and handing off to Pirates, the Black Flags convert another and make it 3-1!
Kick 4:
A rewind of kick 3, but this one is even better, with yet more Cap'n CASing! Or would be better, had a pirate not fallen over in attempting to establish a defensive position, and Ibhib then spilled the ball.
The Anglers got caught: hook, line and sinker!
RESULT:
Another one goes awry! The Anglers steal it back, throw it down field, and score again, brining it back 3-2.
Luckily, the Black Flags added a further two scores for a thumping 5-2 victory and a glorious Great Ocean banner to sail from the mast. Oh, and a Sea-Elf's leg, that Cap'n Jack picked up back on Blitz 2. What a performance from all concerned!
Black Flags management would also recommend bribing CIBBL officials to allow the game to be played on the good ship Golden Dirk, bribing the Snotling Rewind crew to turn their cameras off during the kickoffs to remove any replay evidence of skullduggery, and bribing one of their own pirates to replace the keel-hauled referee. We didn't even need to bribe the last lad, as he actually on the payroll, but it seemed fitting.
So that's all from me, Stan S. Stansman, and I'll see you next time for more excellent tactical play. Until then, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of branded rum!
Yours faithfully
Stan S. Stansman
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