by Paul Cude
Reaching the central plaza in front of the main entrance to the stadium, the three friends ignored the food stalls, all of which were doing a roaring trade, choosing instead to follow the illuminated signs in the direction of the seat numbers on the tickets that they held. After a long walk, they reached their fantastic seats, halfway along the arena, pretty much level with where the ball enters from the roof, about two thirds of the way up. If it were a human football match, these seats would be considered the best in the house.
As they sat down, the stadium became bathed in light and a happy dragon voice echoed all around.
"Laminium ball loving dragons, thank you for your attendance today. Before the major event, we have an aerial flying display from the St Austell nursery ring dragonlings display team. So please put your wings and hands together for them as they show you their amazing aerobatic skills."
With that, the lighting dimmed, except in one corner of the arena where it sparkled pink. Moments later, twenty one young dragons shot up into the bright light. Darting in and out of each other, barely a hair's breadth apart, the young dragonlings formed intricate patterns that with every variation turned a different colour.
All three friends sat mesmerised at the choreography, precision and sheer beauty of the young dragon's display. Normally there was something like this at every laminium ball match, but most dragons paid little attention to it. The three friends were as guilty of this as anybody, not normally arriving in their seats until the very last moment, but all three were currently having the exact same thought.
'Have we really been missing things like this at every match?'
Continuing for another ten minutes or so, the dragonlings wowed the crowd with daring descents, brilliant barrel rolls, intricate routines and dangerous flybys. Spectators of every age couldn't take their eyes off the young display team, with late arrivals cursing themselves. Finally the lights flared into life, illuminating the whole group in the middle of the arena, right in front of the three friends, prompting the three quarters full stadium to erupt into a massive round of applause. Bursts of flame in tribute from nearly every dragon in their natural form lit up the arena like a blow torch convention.
Minutes later the lighting died away, leaving just the lava for illumination. Whispered conversations echoed around the cavern as the final seats filled with latecomers, the electric atmosphere at the prospect of the game almost tangible. It was nearly time.
Once again the smooth voice of the announcer resonated throughout the cavern.
"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for... The Indigo Warriors versus the Colwyn Bay Buccaneers... enjoy!"
Silence fell over the expectant crowd, punctuated only by the gurgling and sloshing of molten lava as the crowd awaited their heroes. Seconds later, there they were. Abruptly the lights came back on at exactly the same time as a series of small holes opened up in the ceiling, through which dropped each team member, the Warriors at one end, the Buccaneers at the other. Shouting, screaming, breathing flame... the audience went mad. And then the teams were off on their display laps of the arena, the Buccaneers forming a tight unit mere inches apart, dashing full speed around the edge of the cavern, almost within touching distance of the spectators. Much more spaced out, the Warriors preferred instead to show off their individual prowess. Steel and Flamer ducked, dived, twisted and barrel rolled in and out of each other, with the crowd egging them on to ever more dangerous feats. Cheese, Barf and Silverbonce took it easy, waving, blowing out violent streams of flame while at the same time poking fun at each other. Both teams were a total contrast, as the Buccaneers zoomed around at ridiculous speeds all serious and pent up, while the Warriors pleased the crowd with stunts, all the time making fools of themselves.
After a couple of laps, for the Warriors that is (the Buccaneers had done about twelve) both teams flew up towards the top of the arena, in the middle, where the laminium ball would appear. With both teams hovering high above the middle of the lava pitch, a long sliver of molten lava appeared at exactly the same time on the rock face at both ends of the cavern, beside both goal mouths. A quiet, "Owww," whispered around the crowd. The sliver of lava suddenly shaped the number ten at both ends at exactly the same time, with the crowd joining in.
"Ten." Continuing on its fascinating journey, the lava flowed into the shape of the number nine.
"Nine," screamed the audience. Peter, Tank and Richie had never seen a countdown like it. Normally little lights or crystals lit up as the crowd counted down, but this was all very modern and dramatic. Reaching a crescendo at, "Two," all eyes turned towards both teams, with some of the crowd focusing on the stream of guided lava, just about managing to get out, "One," before in the blink of an eye, out shot the golden coloured ball, just a blur really, quite something given the enhanced senses that every being there possessed.
Wings, tails, bodies and scales all merged into one amidst the mayhem. Both mouth guards swooped round, departing the action, heading back towards their respective mouths to guard the stalagmite and stalactite 'teeth' against breakage from the laminium ball that would mean a goal for their opponents. Hands, wings and tails tried in vain to grasp the ever elusive ball, all to no avail. In the end, Steel came thundering out of the melee with the round prize cunningly trapped under his chin, ducking and dodging the opposition as he did so. As the rest of the outfield Warriors tried desperately to follow him, Barf took an uppercut to the jaw, big time, off the ball, something the referee clearly didn't see, or if he did, refused to acknowledge so early on in the match.
All three friends were literally on the edge of their seats, leaning against the ornamental railing which no dragon thought was really there to protect them from falling over the side. I mean, a dragon falling over the side... they would just fly right back up and into their seat again... obviously!
In the meantime the Buccaneers had forced Steel and his flying honour guard into a dive towards the surface, allowing them only enough room to pull up right at the last second. Droplets of lava bubbled against Cheese's face as he paced Steel, less than half a yard above the orange lake of danger, weaving in and out of potentially fatal fountains as if they were mere tourist attractions. In one deft motion, Steel transferred the ball from under his chin, to beneath his right wing, feeling the subtle vibration of its power ebbing through him. He always wondered whether the sports men and women on the surface, in anything that involved a ball, felt a buzz or a rush whenever they had possession. If they did, he knew exactly how they felt... more so really. In his case, with the laminium ball, he really did get a buzz and oh so much more, with his magical abilities magnified by the close proximity of the power enhancing metal encased within the ball. Able to fly just that little bit faster, his awareness was increased, with any stray splashes of lava bouncing off his scales becoming barely noticeable. During this game there was a big difference between being on the ball and off it.
Occasionally players would admit to journalists, fans, or female admirers that in a match all they wanted to do when they received the ball was to play a pass as quickly as possible and get rid of the ball. Not Steel though, because he knew exactly what it was all about. It had taken its time to dawn on him. Even as a young dragonling he'd had all the necessary raw ability, courage, dexterity, wing eye coordination, etc. But all of that was nothing without the brains and understanding to match. Truth be told, as a dragonling, brains were pretty much in short supply, particularly when playing laminium ball. Even right up until he was chosen to play professionally it was more down to brawn and courage than thought. But after being selected for the Warriors, it was almost as if a switch had been flicked inside his head, with a giant light surging into life inside his brain. Looking back it was all so obvious, so easy to see with hindsight, but then most things usually are. It was also pretty easy to see how this insight had come about, mainly due to one of the other players in the team, someone he'd always admired and respected for being one of the game's greats, but it was onl
y through playing alongside him that he realised quite how great he really was. Who was that player you ask? Easy... Silverbonce! In Steel's mind he had it all: the courage of ten dragons twice his size, the agility of a dragon a quarter of his age, brains to match his brawn, coolness under pressure and the trait Steel admired the most... sneakiness, something he'd never really appreciated before meeting the wily old dragon. Bending the rules, stretching them sometimes, right to their very boundaries, the cunning old mouth guard played right on the edge, his mind open to possibilities that no other dragon would even consider. And so it was now, as he whizzed in and out of the scorching hot lava approaching a line of three Buccaneers, that a dozen sneaky thoughts zipped around his head; his only problem was which one to choose.
As the distance closed in the blink of an eye, Steel, flanked by Cheese and Flamer, rolled the ball underneath his body and down onto his tail, all in one seamless move. As one, the entire crowd gasped, all thinking the same thing:
'He's way too far out to have a shot... isn't he?'
Banking hard at the very last second, Steel used all his might and let rip with the ball, then allowed his momentum to carry him way over the head of the opposing dragons. All three Buccaneers did exactly as they should have and concentrated all their efforts on the ball, dismissing Steel as no threat whatsoever, as he'd flown out of view way above them. Strangely, when Steel had launched the ball, instead of sending it towards the opposition's mouth, he'd angled it down towards the lava, just below the three opposing Buccaneers. Nobody, including the players (on both sides) and the crowd, had any idea what on earth was going on. Well, maybe just one other dragon did. Silverbonce hovered in front of his mouth, nodding in satisfaction at what he'd just witnessed Steel attempt.
'That,' he thought, 'is very cunning and devious. I like it!'
When the ball left Steel, two things happened. Twisting the ball violently, creating as much spin as he dared with his tail, he tried to add something else. Using every ounce of his concentration, he tried to imbue the ball with a... thought. This was almost unheard of, and if you'd asked any dragon in the crowd, they would have told you it was beyond impossible. But it wasn't impossible at all, just forgotten. Silverbonce had explained how when he'd first started playing laminium ball, centuries ago, such imbuing was commonplace even for youngsters in the nursery ring, going on to explain how the magical qualities of the laminium provided the potential, if a player retained possession of the ball for long enough, to plant a thought in the ball's mind, so to speak. It would only last for a certain time, and that time decreased immeasurably as the ball left the player, but it was certainly possible. Talented players back then could bend and swerve the ball at will, on occasion making it stop dead in mid air after having thrown it at speed, with all their might. When Silverbonce had recounted all these feats to him, it had sounded a little far-fetched. At first he'd thought it one of the old mouth guard's renowned practical jokes. Many a laminium ball playing dragon, both team member and opponent, had been on the end of one of the old dragon's famed pranks or warped sense of humour. That, as well as his playing ability and longevity, was why he was one of the crowd's favourite players in all the leagues throughout the world.
Anyway, Steel had done as Silverbonce had suggested and practised alone with a brand new match ball. After two days, he was convinced it was all a big joke, and was just waiting for the old mouth guard to jump out at him and shout, "Gotcha." Needless to say, that never happened. Very slowly, Steel could sense the ball attempting to carry out a singular thought. At first it was very hit and miss, but at the same time unbelievably exciting. The more he practised, the better at it he got. But he was under no illusion as to how difficult a skill it was to master, let alone use in a match. It was one thing to achieve it while practicing alone, quite another to use the skill against top quality opponents with tens of thousands of spectators watching. Nevertheless, he'd given it his best shot, and Steel's best shot normally far exceeded that of a dozen ordinary dragons combined.
The thought he'd imbued within the ball was one of a burst of speed, about halfway through its intended flight. Aiming the ball at just such an angle that if it hit the lava's surface, it should in theory, just like a skimming stone on water, bounce right back up off it. The 'if' was whether it got as far as the lava in the first place. Buccaneers players were all swooping towards it, ready to intercept as Steel looked down from high above them. Knowing that if his plan failed, he'd have to double back and defend his mouth as fast as he could, as in essence he would have left the team shorthanded at the back, the momentary sliver of doubt that entered his mind was shattered like a sledgehammer pulverising a pebble, by his razor sharp confidence that returned with a vengeance. Continuing on course, he didn't let the ball leave his sight.
Cheese and Flamer hovered to a halt, unsure of what to do. There'd been no chance of them catching up with the ball once it had left Steel's powerful tail, and they'd been unable to perform the tight turn that had taken their captain high up over their opponents' heads. Both frustrated that Steel had given away possession so cheaply, particularly as any second now the Buccaneers were about to get their claws on it, as they looked on through the haze and the heat of the lava, something unimaginable happened. All three Buccaneers converged on the ball at once, competing against each other to see which of them would be the first to get a touch since the start of the game. It seemed to nearly everyone that it would be a close run thing as they all looked as if they'd reach the ball at exactly the same time. A split second before they were due to intercept the ball on its downward course, it quadrupled its speed, sending it whizzing past the Buccaneers, rushing on towards the surface. Having smashed into each other, all three opponents couldn't believe what they were seeing.
Steel, high above everybody, shook his head, grinning from ear to ear, hoping that he'd got the next part of his plan just right. Hitting the fiery surface, instead of the expected 'plop,' the sound the ball made was more of a 'twang' as the backspin on it prevented it from being absorbed by the lava, sending it soaring off up into the arena and, more importantly, straight into the grinning Steel's flight path. Too stunned by what he'd just seen to put up any resistance, the last Buccaneer defender flailed about haplessly as Steel gathered in the onrushing laminium ball with his tail. Tossing it high up over the defender, Steel swooped round behind him, gathered it in once again and found himself through on the mouth. Tens of thousands of spectators, even the Buccaneers fans, were on the edge of their seats, eager to see if the Warriors' captain could finish what he'd started, what seemed like an eternity ago, straight from the drop off. Putting on the biggest burst of speed possible, Steel headed straight for the middle of the mouth. About a second later, he hit the brakes as hard as he could, bringing himself to an abrupt halt. The forward momentum from his burst of speed brought his tail with the ball nestled in it, up over his head, so unexpected was the sudden stop. Letting the momentum carry his body forward, he rolled tail over head, catapulting the golden ball on its way only when his tail was at the perfect point in his tumble. Not having a prayer of stopping the ball, all the Buccaneers' mouth guard could do was watch as it smashed perfectly into one of the teeth.
The best part of one hundred and fifty thousand dragons rose from their seats in unison, all cheering and roaring at once, Peter, Tank and Richie among them. Niftily, Richie pulled a small paper packet from the back pocket of her jeans, and in one smooth, fluid motion, ripped open the top and poured a handful of the sparkling dust into the palm of her hand. Pulling in a deep breath, she blew the dust out into the stadium. Instantly, it began to coalesce into recognisable shapes. After only a few seconds, six foot high letters formed and began to make words. This wasn't only happening in front of her... it was happening all round the arena. It could only be one name... STEEL! Drifting round the stadium, light from the lava below twinkled off the dust that formed the magical letters.
With the sound and the celebrations having died down, th
e match could really only go one way after Steel's amazing goal... downhill. Oh don't get me wrong, it was as fine a league match as there'd been all season, but after the stunning start to the game, it could only ever creep back towards mediocrity. Soon after Steel's goal the Buccaneers equalised, before going on to take the lead. After that, things became rather scrappy, with numerous warnings to both sides from the referee. Unfortunately for the three friends, the Buccaneers won 2-1, somewhat taking the edge off the main talking point of the evening... that goal!
As the echo of the giant gong reverberated around the arena to signal the end of the match, Peter, Tank and Richie started to make their way towards the exit. Huge queues meant it took an absolute age to reach the main plaza, where the food stalls were still doing an alarming trade despite the late hour. Throughout their queuing, all the three friends could hear, were dragons raving about Steel's goal. As the friends joined a line to get a charcoal kebab (Peter, surprise, surprise was starving) only one thing was on their minds.
"If I hadn't seen it for myself, then I would probably never have believed it," put in Tank.
"That's part of the problem the papers will have in the morning," added Peter. "However well they describe what happened, not everyone will believe it. I mean we were that close and I still find it hard to take in exactly what happened."
Nodding in unison, they shuffled steadily forward in the queue.
"I still don't understand how he did it," stated Tank, more than a little bemused.
"Me neither," agreed Peter.
Richie paused, her delicate little face screwed up in concentration.
"I," she said, "have a theory about that."
