Andrew Rubio. You beautiful bastard. I looked at his piece of paper for the fourth time. He was a headache. On the one hand, he had decent keeping skills. For this batch of players. He was third in keeping skills. His Eccentricity attribute was a whopping sixteen. It showed how much crazy shit he would do, good or bad. A reliablity in my keeper I was not a big fan of. But his communication and handling attributes were a ten and an eleven. With a low tendency to punch the ball, he should be able to prevent rebounds. His communication skills were a great addition to Pearl coaching the idiots in front of her. He could even pass better than the two central defenders and had an eleven in bravery, not bad to have as a keeper. But his physical attributes and other keeper attributes like reflexes and one on ones were below average...

All in all not great. The absolute headache came from a fourteen in penalty taking. Penalties were a big part of the game. It almost guaranteed ten goals a season. Andrew Rubio could be our secret weapon or our weakest link. But the absolute swag of having your keeper take the penalties was so darn attractive. Everything together he was three point five on average. The result skewered by the high impact of Eccentricity.

Andrew had been a regular football player until he found his slight talent for keeping. His love to stay clean made him far from ideal to play as a keeper.

My other option for the task was Violet Dickens. She was the best of the pack in traditional keeping attributes. An eleven in Aerial ability, a twelve in agility, nine in handling, ten in reflexes. She had it all. Not much weakness in her keeping except that she could be more communicative. She was even a point two higher in her average and had no crazy stories in her description. A girl who liked to be a keeper, and very much enjoyed to win. A sore loser, but that was it. Solid. Huge in both length and weight. Like a fifteen-year-old female giant.

Then I looked back to Rubio and his crazy combination of attributes. Back to Violet and her sheer solidness. Back to Rubio.

“You can decide who you will make the first keeper later you know? No need to agonize over it now. Did you know you can even switch them around in the middle of the game? Crazy concept right?” Riley had been looking at my indecision for the better part of fifteen minutes and had found her swag again. Thus voicing her impatience.

“And waste a substitute for bad organizational preparation? Are you mad? No. I already decided on taking them both. I’m just wondering who will best fit into the love triangle in front of them.” I confessed while holding one paper up, and then the next. Holding them against the light in the hope to gain extra insights.

“Love triangle?” She asked, a curious tone in her voice. Teenage girls and their love triangle obsessions. Better not let her in on the inside joke.

“You wouldn’t understand,” I whispered secretively, then put the two papers on the yes please pile. I still needed a backup sweeper but wasn’t feeling it right now. “So. Midfielders. Thoughts?” I asked, louder this time.

“Well, we already have over half the team worrying about defense. So we should at least have one person worry about how we will score goals? Right? If we don’t make goals, it’s kind of useless to play.” She summarized her thoughts.

I looked at the ground where the papers were still spread out. Some had mud smears on them as we moved them around too often. I scratched my chin and replied “Yes. We need to make goals... Somehow.”

I walked to a paper, bent the knees and picked it up. Walked back and gave it to her before turning around and sitting back on the bench. My hands on my head.

Confused she looked at the player on the piece of muddied paper. But when she read it her eyebrows only turned further up as her head snapped towards my direction, “Bruno Carrillo? Wasn’t he too light?” She asked.

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Against all odds, Bruno Carrillo was a great candidate for a role on my midfield. He had the minimal attribute values my central meat shields needed. And where he was not suited as a meat shield he was a perfect fit as a controlling midfielder. “Just read it for me. But skip the basics please.”

I closed my eyes. I needed to concentrate and imagine how the team would play if we used him. To be sure we should use him.

I heard her mumble something before reading outloud, “Description, Bruno has struggled with keeping his weight above non-anorexic levels his entire life. This has made him a very hard cookie to crack, and gives him the will to win, and defeat his body that tries to hold him back.” She scanned his attributes. “He has the minimal requirements of the central defenders. In addition, he has a nine in stamina, but a one in natural fitness. Interesting. He is the first player I see without a high attribute. But... His average is a three point nine like Pearl Greenwood. How can he be so high but not have any great attributes?”

He wasn’t a freak who excelled at one thing and left all else in the mud. “What are his highest attributes?”

“Uhh, Tackling, Passing, Decisions, Positioning, Stamina. All have nine points?” She replied, but it sounded like a question.

“Jackpot!” I shouted and got off my seat. “Quick help me find an exact or almost exact copy of Bruno. We need two not-freaks for our midfield.” I explained as I sat on my knees and compared Bruno’s paper with the one on the ground. Ally Stokes, no, not a match. Axel Church, hmm could be, but no, not enough stamina and positioning.

“You must think I’m crazy. Gina. Please scan the paper in Old bastards hand and compile a profile. Then find the closest match to this profile in the current selection of players.” Hearing her command her computer brain I saw the pink abomination scan my paper. I got up and frowned at Riley. I couldn’t say it wasn’t efficient. Just no fun.

“Killjoy,” I mumbled and sat down on the bench again.

After two seconds Gina finished whatever she was doing. Floating towards a paper she said, “This player has a ninety percent resemblance to Bruno. Please validate.”

Riley looked at me and I looked back. “You’re the captain now.” I smiled and waved my hand towards the paper.

She sighed and got the paper off the ground “Casper Edwards. Age, seventeen. Length, one seventy. Weight, seventy-two. Description, His whole life people have found it hard to see Caspers achievements. He is aggressively average. It has made Casper into a young man fighting to get attention, with an absolute will to win. Sometimes he goes overboard in his struggles, but it is rare for these misplaced incidents to get noticed.”

She picked up Bruno’s paper and held it next to Casper’s. She pressed her eyes into slits and moved her head from side to side. It was kind of comical.

“They are similar. Casper also has all nine’s in the attributes I said. But his general disposition seems to be more towards attacking or build up? Not sure but his crossing and long shots are better and his marking and heading are worse. To name a few. But the overall picture is remarkably similar. Like both having a seven in anticipation. Also has a three-point nine on average..." She paused, but before I could say anything she added, "Is free kick taking useful?”

Interresting. “Yes. Why?” I had a feeling that I knew why. She had never asked for the people who had no talent for it. If Casper had that would be a bonus.

“He has a twelve in free kick taking.” She said.

“Praise the Lord Jesus. At least we have one way of scoring goals.” I sighed. The relief was genuine. I had worried that our goal scoring would be though. It still would be. But now with Casper, I had the chance to drill set pieces in.

“Let’s stop for today kid. I’m getting tired. It has been a long day and tomorrow we have to figure out who we will take as the troublemakers in the team.” I got off my bench and walked outside. Wanting to look at the brown mud that hid my love and wish it a good night. It was raining so hard I was wondering if we should build an ark and play on there.

“Troublemakers?” She asked.

“Strikers. The diva’s of the pitch.” I grimaced at the possibility of not finding the right ones. The bastards always tried to fuck around until they could score goals. You had to stand next to them and scream ‘team discipline, team discipline, team discipline you bastard’ at them for months for them to get in line. Egocentric fuckers. I was looking forward to making them suffer again. The grimace turned into a smile and the smile disappeared as I logged off and left my favorite world for the real. It was time for some rest and a cigarette.