"The greatness of the FUMBBL Cup is at least partly due to its sheer size. Whilst this brings a huge amount of Blood Bowl action for the spectators, large gate receipts for the stadium-owners, promoters, and ticket touts, and many chances for stars to rise, shine and have songs sung of their great exploits, there is a darker side.
True throughout the game, but concentrated in the lofty heights of the greatest tournament in the whole FUMBBLsphere, is the sad fact of the short, brutal and tragic life of the average, or indeed, the below average player. There are 100 unmarked corpses for every Vindaloo, 8 new benches from the body of every would-be Mr T, and 476 empty places at the breakfast tables of the Moot for every Calkin Sproutman. Unknown, unloved, unsung, and (worst of all) unnoticed, these are the journeymen, the dead rookies, the raised and retired rotters, the maimed newbies, and the niggled stars of yesteryear. Adding to the countless ranks of former years' victims, we now have our first in this year's cup.
A Confused Rock Lee, thrust after 9 short games as a pro into the biggest prize of the tournament scene, and unceremoniously fouled in turn 1 of her first game there. In her memory, and that of those who came before; to all those about to play, we salute you...