The Football Team by Helen Steventon

The Players
The Mosquitos:
Zepto-Joule; Nano-Joule (captain); Micro Joule; Milli-Joule; Mega-Joule (Goalkeeper)
The Rockets:
Tera-Joule; Peta-Joule (captain); Exa-Joule; Zetta-Joule; Yotta-Joule (Goalkeeper)
Referee: Giga-Joule
Commentator: Kilo-Joule

It promised to be an explosive game as the five-a-side Footie teams started their warm-up, oblivious to the shouts and happy cheers of their fellow Joulists from the Universal Stand.

Each team, however unfairly matched, had their own winning merits. The Mosquitos, captained by Nano-Joule, were warming up with some great ballet routines. They looked to have nimble feet; great dancers with the ball. Their opponents, The Rockets, led by Peta-Joule, were a much stronger looking, physical side, if a little clumsy. They were more into spurts of running up and down one side of the field, to the delight of their vociferous fans.

The goalies, at their respective nets, were idly leaning against a side post, arms folded, doing the occasional knee-bend hop whilst waiting for the action to start.

Out walked Giga-Joule, the referee, whistling up a wind to get the ball rolling and the match underway. He had promised to keep the play full of chemical charging excitement and the odd red card to keep down any unwarranted misdemeanours. This could prove a difficult game to control, he mused, with both sides unevenly matched, physically, but each had its own merits. Even so, it was like a David & Goliath scenario, to be won by either tactics or brute strength. A game full of energy and incident.

The commentator of the day was Kilo-Joule, who used to play, but had now become too big to safely tackle any of the mini-joules. He also loved his food. Thus, it was no hardship for him to eat and commentate at the same time.

Kilo-Joule had very satisfactorily managed to consume a dozen light snacks before the game commenced.

“They’re off!” He announced over the tannoy, with only a mild hiccup.

At midfield, the flip of a metal coin meant the Mosquitos had possession first. Zepto-Joule deftly passed the ball to Nano-Joule, which prompted him to pass it on to Micro-Joule who was just back from his holiday at the Hadron Collider and had been bouncing on his feet, ready for any collisions to come from the opposition. There weren’t any. The Rockets had been slow on the uptake, and were still lumbering to catch up.

“Over here! Over here!” Screamed Milli-Joule, at top decibels, wanting the ball to come her way. However, the opposition heard her and got their act together, with Terra-Joule upping his energy levels to easily tackle the ball off her. Then, with a quick back-flip, he passed the ball over to Peta-Joule. He, in turn, soared into the air to head it to Exa-Joule who then powered down the field towards the goal where an alerted Mega-Joule danced in attendance. Exa-Joule later claimed that he did not see the little squirt of energy until after he had tripped and flattened the goalie inside his own goal mouth.

The referee, Giga-Joule, blew his whistle and whilst the spectators and players got their hearing back, held up a red card in the offender’s line of vision.

“Any more of that and I’ll personally zap you one, Exa-Joule!” he announced, noting with glee how the culprit was losing his defensive energy by the second. He’d need to be substituted soon, to be recharged. Served him right.

The ball was thrown back into play and, seconds later, the ground rumbled with a huge power surge as both Peta-Joule and Terra-Joule, between them, exploded the ball into their opponent’s net. This time, it wasn’t a Joule who flattened the goalie, it was the goal posts as the structure collapsed, like a pack of cards in a man-made earthquake.

“Ooops!” cried the attackers in unison.

“Oooooh!” moaned Mega-Joule in goal.

“It’s a goal!” Shouted Kilo-Joule, in absolute amazement, down the tannoy, and almost choking on his third burger.

“No, it’s not!” Shouted a disgruntled fan, in the stand behind the collapsed goal. “You’ve knocked the effin’ goalpost down and flattened the goalie. Mega-Joule’s been PetTa’d into a space-less state.”

But as the ball, technically, did go into the net, the referee allowed the goal, much to the disgust of several supporters whose language went into threat-mode. Never-the-less, Giga-Joule thought it expedient to blow the whistle for half-time so they could all recharge their energy cells and produce more wattage. It also gave Mega-Joule chance to recover and for the goal post and net to be rebuilt.

When the game recommenced, the Rockets won the toss and trundled off with the ball, but hadn’t reckoned on the brave spirits of the lithe mosquitos, who danced their path and energy round their opposition. The sparks really flew, until Zetta-Joule got quite dizzy and the ball was whisked away, by Micro-Joule, from under very his nose.

“Whatttt?!!!” The crowd yelled, static in excitement.

Yotta-Joule saw the ball coming, so he put down his cup of tea, and squared up as best he could in the goal, focussing all his power and energy on the hurtling globe which by now had seen better days. It burst with a bang as Micro-Joule flicked it into goal hitting the Goalie head on, who then technically nodded it in as an own goal, before passing out.

“What a game!” Kilo-Joule was heard to remark over the tannoy, “Full of Energy & Tempest!” as the match was declared a draw.

The End

© Helen Steventon 3/06/17