Those Who Sport With Giants

by lord_steak

Halftime

“What in the blue-flying hell was that!? I should arrest you right now!!” snarled Spitfire as she slammed David Buckham against the wall of the locker room, teeth bared. Soarin’ stood beside her, glowering at the aged legend. The other six Wonderbolts on the Cloudsdale roster were behind them, facing the rest of the team, keeping them from interfering. Silver Lining dug in his hooves against McNimbus, who struggled to push his way past the others.

“Explain yourself,” demanded Soarin’.

“What are you on about!?” Buckham yelled, his demeanor, voice, and mannerisms evident of having no clue of what’s going on.

“You elbowed Princess Twilight in the face!” accused Spitfire. Silver Lining nearly toppled over McNimbus as he ceased trying to push through. McNimbus looked at Buckham with an expression of utter shock and disbelief.

Buckham scratched at his beard, answering as one who was still in thought, “Must’ve been part of the play; I don’t recall doing that.”

“I don’t buy that for a second!” snapped Spitfire. Cometeer, behind her, just shook her head with disappointment. “Her Highness hadn’t moved yet, and you certainly didn’t need that kind of aid in getting some separation for a header, the one their goalie caught!”

“That’s why they started booing? I’ll have to apologise to Her Highness over that accident when I was going for the header,” Buckham said with self-deliberation.

Spitfire shouted, “You aren’t convincing anypony!”

Buckham shoved Spitfire off of him, growing irritable. He retorted, “You, captain, are the only one making a tremendous deal over the roughness of the sport!”

“She’s the only pony you had any serious contact with out there! Throwing an elbow like that’s pretty damn one-sided!” Spitfire said with a measured level of vitriol.

Buckham held up his right forehoof in front of her face, saying in a scandalized voice, “One-sided? The roughness of stormball is one-sided, you say?”

The keratin hoof itself the one with which he tried to uppercut her was smashed and breaking apart in chunks. There was also a considerable break clear up to the cuticle, touches of red dabbing either side of the crack. He then pulled up his left rear hoof, where under the fetlocks, at the edge of the hoof, some bruising was visible. Ruffling up his coat at the ankle, the purpled skin revealed its hue to the gathered Wonderbolts.

Buckham stood normal again, giving Spitfire and Soarin’ a pointed sour and accusatory glare. “You were right: she was the only pony I had serious contact with when goal-scoring. And in the middle of the flurry for position and advantage, I was kicked twice, but I didn’t call for a foul when there wasn’t one. I knew that was part of the game, and I don’t fault her for playing it with all the heart she brought to the pitch. The days of hamming up injuries are over. The only one I heard complaining was you. You berated me then, not that I could’ve understood you over the crowd noise, and did now, for what!? Not having all the facts first!?”

Buckham looked between Spitfire and Soarin’, and the rest of the team. Many of the other retirees nodded. He said, “We’re wasting time with this! We have a second half to prepare for, and I, for one, am not happy with giving Rainbow Dash a scoring fast-break to close the first! We need to keep her shut down, and your minds back on the pitch where they belong! Are we all on the same page now!?”

Murmurs answered him. Spitfire, Soarin’, Fleetfoot, and Reinaldo did not look fully convinced, but still motioned for Buckham to speak his piece. He turned toward Buckenbauer and said, “Franz, I still think you have the best mind among us for making adjustments. What’re your thoughts?”

---

Rainbow Dash let gravity do the work, descending toward Ponyville near Town Hall. Her eyes were closed as she took deep, slow breaths. She would have some backtracking to do, but it wasn’t worth risking being seen through the lower cloud layer to move toward the park now.

Keep it cool, Dash. Bring your mind to what Daring Do called “zen.” Breathe.

She slowly opened her eyes. The ground below approached, finer details becoming clearer and clearer with each passing instant. She flared her wings out and flapped once, propelling herself forward with her feet less than a meter from terra firma, the downstroke of her wings very nearly brushing the grass and cobblestone, displacing whirling eddies of dust and grass cuttings from each wingbeat as she raced through town not unlike a particular orange, scooter-riding filly. Pulling abrupt tight turns regularly, occasionally ducking through alleys, all while avoiding being seen, Dash smiled during the challenge.

I don’t think Scoots knows how agile she really is. This is awesome maneuverability practice! I should join her in the future!

The park opened up before her. She unfurled her wings as an air brake, using her feet to maintain balance and stay upright. Muffins was just past the crest of this hillock. Dash calmly walked up the hill, feeling her heart pounding harder now than it did on the pitch minutes ago. The extra oats at breakfast were looking like a worse and worse idea all the time as the empty-feeling lump in her stomach returned. Her elbows felt almost as sturdy as a stick of butter. Even the tiny arteries in her eardrums became audible as she crested the knoll.

There sat Ms. Hooves in the shade of a massive beech, silently blowing bubbles that lingered as they departed in the breeze, none of them special in any way apart from their longevity. Her ears were drooping.

Okay, Dash, don’t force her. No matter what happens, keep it cool, and don’t force her.

Swallowing hard, Rainbow Dash approached at a slow pace. At only a few meters away, Muffins’s ears perked up for a moment, then flattened angrily. She spat, “Aren’t you in the middle of losing a game?”

Dash sighed, her own ears drooping. “I can’t fault you for still being angry at me.”

“Good. Now leave me alone,” said Ms. Hooves.

Rainbow started, “I was wrong to—”

“Spare me your platitudes, and your reason for coming! I don’t care!” snarled Ms. Hooves, still not looking at Dash.

“Muffins, I need you!” implored Dash as her shoulders fell, and her face following soon after.

“Then suffer.”

“Twi needs you too! We all need you!” pleaded Rainbow desperately as her eyes turned misty. “We can’t do this without you!”

“Let me ask you this, Rainbow Dash: why should I?” snapped Ms. Hooves, standing up and turning to face Dash, her countenance angry and unforgiving, though there was a touch sadness in her eyes. Words died in Rainbow’s throat. Muffins’ eyes narrowed as she said, “Why should I care that the team’s in remiss? Twilight already promised she’d continue helping me with my studies! The rest of you fluff-piles called me...that! You pompous, ostracizing goose-turds all said that word about me! I don’t care if you lose by twenty-five! So get back to embarrassing Ponyville, Dash!”

She goes so far as to call it “that word.” I hope she didn’t start to believe it.

Rainbow looked down, trying to keep the forming tears from appearing in her voice as well. “You’re right. We did you wrong. I did you wrong. There’s—”

No. Don’t say it; Captain Spitfire ordered you not to say a word of it outside the Wonderbolts or the Princesses.

Dash paused, then sadly said, “There’s nothing I can say or do that’ll take away what I did. I’m sorry I caused you pain. I’m sorry I let it leave my lips. It was wrong to say, and it’s just not true. You’re not stupid, Muff-eumpphh...!”

Rainbow toppled over as Ms. Hooves suddenly upped and decked her without warning, a clean-hitting right hook just below the eye. Muffins’ eyes were laden with hate as tears leaked out, her punching hoof still extended as her enraged breaths made her entire body shake and heave. She growled, “Shut the hell up!”

Dash started to stand up with a stagger, blinking quickly with one watering eye. She wobbled a moment, then looked Muffins in face as she felt her forelegs tightening.

No! Don’t you dare retaliate, no matter how swollen it’s gonna get! Keep it cool. But yeah, you hit a nerve, all right. I think she did come to believe it.

Dash tried again, “You’re not stupid, Muffins.”

A roundhouse kick rolled Dash over a few times down the slight decline as Ms. Hooves shrieked, “Shut up!!”

Two blows to the left side of her face left Dash with white spots dancing around her vision, and what her tongue told her was a loose tooth. She shook her in a daze.

Just let her get it out, Dash.

Getting back to her feet, Dash empathetically said, “You’re not stupid, Muffins.”

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!!!” roared Ms. Hooves, her tears flowing freely as she raised both her forehooves together and brought them down on Dash’s head, as though she were swinging a railroad spike-driving maul. The blow broke skin, staining the cyan coat red in front of where her spectral mane began. Muffins began sobbing as Rainbow stumbled back to all-fours. Ms. Hooves’ head was down, crying softly, as Dash shook the multiple images back into one picture.

Ooh...that’s a headache….

Rainbow blinked hard, and said, “You’re not stupid, Muffins.”

Muffins charged forward, beating hammer blows onto Dash’s back. Her strikes grew more weaker, and her words more and more choked and unintelligible. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up…shut up...shut…up...shut....”

Still trying to hit Dash, Muffins cried in earnest, wailing. Years of pain, a foalhood of agony, so much anger and sadness gathered and bottled together for so long, all over a single word, uttered so many times, finally had been let go. The sum of bullying’s ordeal oozed away in four streams of salty water. Muffins wept, unable to keep flailing, leaving both forelimbs wrapped around Dash. Rainbow hugged her friend, choking up herself, as she said, “You’re not stupid, Muffins. You never were, and you never will be. Anypony who can do math like that, math I can’t follow, and that even Twilight struggles to keep up with, is brilliant. Don’t ever believe it, because it’s not true. You’re not stupid, Muffins.”

Ms. Hooves tightened her hug of Dash, which was gladly returned. Dash let her own tears go with some sniffling as her friend began regaining control of her breathing. As both edged closer to normal respiration with only occasional choppiness, they let go, and wiped away the others’ remaining tears. Still sounding emotionally vulnerable, Muffins asked, “You saw my work with Twilight? Are you serious that she’s struggling to keep up with it?”

“She said so herself, Muffins,” said Dash. “Did she never tell you?”

“No, I thought we kept moving on because I wasn’t getting something, not because she was stuck,” replied Ms. Hooves.

Rainbow said, “Twilight told me you were calculating the weather, as if there were no weather ponies.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Muffins. “Didn’t they go over that in teaching how to be a weather pony?”

“Not at all,” answered Dash, making her words sound very serious. “I went to Cloudsdale Climate Prep, you know, the CCCP, the best weather pony school in the world, and they had almost zilch about how it works without us. They used that fact, or rather idea, to emphasize how important weather pony teams are. It’s awesome that you’re discovering something new!”

“Oh wow,” breathed Ms. Hooves, baffled. “I’m breaking new ground?”

“Yeah. Twi thinks you can use this work to get a PhD,” Dash beamed.

Muffins squawked, “No way!”

“Way, mare-friennnndd!” joshed Dash, jokingly using an accent with matching facial expression very different from her normal self, grinning at Muffins afterwards as if to emphasize the intended humor. They looked at each other a moment, then both burst out laughing. They tried to hold each other up during the guffaws, but fell down anyways, giggling like school-fillies for a good moment or so.

Through intermittent snickering, Ms. Hooves said, “Please don’t ever do that again!”

“Absolutely. Never again,” said Rainbow, her words also broken by giggles. As they regulated their breathing yet again, Dash reiterated, “But keeping it real, Twi really does think you can and should get a doctorate for this work.”

“I wonder what Doc will think of that,” reflected Ms. Hooves. She looked up, gasping, “Oh my Celestia! Did I do that to you!?”

Rainbow brushed it off, “Yeah, but don’t worry about it.”

Feel kinda loopy, too….

Ms. Hooves protested, “How can I not worry about it!? I was—”

“In pain,” said Dash emphatically, yet woozy. “You were in pain. And as your friend, I did what I had to, to ease it.”

“But...!”

“No buts. You’re my friend. And if I have to take another beating for you, or from you, I will. Not gladly, of course, but for my friends, anything,” said Dash earnestly. She stumbled, but righted herself.

“I don’t think you can play like that!” Muffins exclaimed with worry.

Dash said, “Well, I’ll have to get back soon so that Twi has time to patch me up before the second half. We have to hurry. Stay low to the ground until we’re about under the stadium. Our locker room is almost directly over the Sofas and Quills shop.”

“We? Our locker room?” asked Muffins in surprise.

“Yes, you too! You’ve always been part of the team!” answered Rainbow, with a hint of irritation.

Ms. Hooves asked, “Even though I’ve missed practice?”

Good grief, Derpy, when are you gonna stop punishing yourself!?

Dash pressed, “Of course! Why is this still up for debate? We need you, Muffins!”

“But the late rule...!”

“Screw the late rule!” Dash exclaimed. “Just you being there will mean the world to them! Even the twins were mopey about you not coming back!”

“But...!”

“I already said ‘no buts!’ Come on!”

“I don’t have a jersey!” Ms. Hooves urged, tugging on Dash’s wing.

That’s the big hang up? I would’ve guessed it was nerves....

“Rarity made yours when she made the others,” replied Dash in exasperation. “It’s still hanging up!”

“Oh,” said Muffins flatly, although she sounded calmer. They both spread their wings. As they took off, Ms. Hooves asked, “What number am I wearing?”

“Your number is what you are to us,” Dash replied with a smile.

---

Bicycle Kick suddenly stopped explaining his adjustments to defensive strategy when a pair of soft taps sounded on the exterior door. Twilight telekinetically opened the door to outside the stadium, to which the entire team gasped with delight. Muffins hovered into the locker room, confused at all the happy, hopeful faces, that last time she saw them were flattening their ears at her. Bicycle Kick smiled as old stallions do, with a nod at her return. A startled gasp from Stormbringer turned the team’s attention as he blurted, “My goodness, Dash!”

“Twilight, I could use a hoof with something right away,” said Dash, aching. The rest of the team, except Muffins, looked at her, many agape, and most of the rest with at least one forehoof at their respective mouths. Slamming the door shut, the princess ran over to her bruised friend.

Reggie spouted, “Somepony needs to teach you when to duck!”

“Actually, Reg,” replied Rainbow in a somewhat shaking voice, “this was when not to.”

Bicycle Kick looked her over and said, “Looks like somepony sucked it up and took one for the team.”

“Yes sir!” answered the bloodied pegasus in pain. Twilight examined Dash’s head with some kind of sweeping beam, though during the magic, the princess’s mane and tail began to float and drift more like Princess Celestia’s, with some sparkling. As the spell ended along with the bedazzled coarse hair, Dash spluttered, “Your hair, Twi! Your mane was—”

“That’s because I just used Alicorn magic,” Twilight said as she worked. “That spell is beyond any unicorn. Now hold still; you have a concussion.”

If it only happens when they used Alicorn-level magic, why do Their Majesties’ manes and tails look like that all the time? Oh geez, Dash...you really are turning into a Wonderbolt, calling Celestia and Luna that!

Twilight resumed the high-powered spell as a green beam went over Dash’s face. Dash moved her tongue inside her mouth, holding the loose tooth in place as the healing magic swept over her. Her headache gone and tooth feeling solid, Dash got back into wearing number Twenty.

The twins squeeked quietly. All heads turned to the gray pegasus, looking at the one jersey left on a hanger, bearing the name M. Hooves, and the number One. Lightly she took it down, turning it over several times for a more thorough examination. She ruffled it up to the neck hole, slipping her head slowly through the collar. Her left forelimb found its sleeve first, quickly followed by the right. Pulling down the jersey over her torso, her folded wings nudged themselves through their open slots, fanning out slightly to move the cloth snug against the base of her wings and keep it tight against her body. Her wings returned to her side as she took a deep breath, turning around. The glint in her eye stirred them all, even the coach. The fires in the bellies, the hunger for stormball, the yearning for victory, the need to be on the pitch, she called it all with just a look. The mailmare was gone. Here stood the athlete, her real self, on full display.

Muffins strutted to the middle of her gathered teammates. Looking around for a moment, she garnered all the fervor out there on the pitch, shouting, “This is a stormballer’s dream we’re living out today, here and now! Beginning the second half down against a heavily favored opponent, playing at home, with a very real chance to come back and win! And not just any opponent, but the cream of the crop! And it’s in reach! You’ve no idea how many players, present, past, and deceased, would have killed for this chance, to lay the best of the best low, to leave them in absolute shock as you have! They were a seven-point favorite, and you’re down by only one! Cloudsdale thought they could waltz right through Ponyville, and you choked them with those words! You did what many thought was impossible; that makes you mighty! We didn’t just come to play; we came to win! It's what the mighty do! And dammit, we’re gonna win!!”

The team cheered. Each of them wanted it more than anything else in the world at that moment. Stormball, and only stormball. Victory was so close they could taste it. But they knew they had work to do, and were chomping at the bit to get started.

“Forehooves in!” shouted Bicycle Kick. The team immediately responded. “Now we’re complete. Our family is all here. And together, you will carry the day! Less than an hour ‘til we sing! It’s time to get out there and show the world we were never kidding around! Win on three!!”

“ONE, TWO, THREE, WIN!!!”

Ponyville’s team charged through the locker room door out onto the pitch to the cheers of the crowd. Some last second warm-ups, during which Dash took her old partner, Ms. Hooves. She looked around at the crowd, asking, “What happened here? I’ve seen angry fans, but nothing like this.”

“If I weren’t ordered to silence, I’d tell you everything!” griped Rainbow. “Long-story short, a few someponies got everypony in the stands all upset, and are looking for trouble, using these riled ponies to do it.”

Muffins said with a clever grin, “Is this part of why you said the team needed me?”

“Yeah. It is.”

Ms. Hooves looked up. Dash followed her eyes and found Princess Celestia hovering over the center of the home-side stands, alleviating them of their darkened mist. Ms. Hooves gave Dash a hard, pressing, questioning look. “It’s so bad that even the Princess is working on it?”

“Yeah.”

Dash supported Muffins as she stretched her glutes. They traded places. Looking down, Muffins accusingly asked, “This Cloudsdale team never came here for the game, did they?”

“It sure doesn’t look like it.”

“Well, I say we kick their flank on the pitch, then crush their nefarious purpose!” Muffins said.

“Damn straight!” said Dash.

The teams took their positions on the pitch fairly quickly; neither team had made substitutions nor formation adjustments while in the locker room. Rainbow hovered at the center of the pitch, ready to begin the second half. Referees motioned between players and coaches to see if all was ready to go. Dash looked at the sidelines for a moment. Muffins stood looking as much like a coach as anything else. As she caught Dash’s gaze, she gave her friend a knowing, determined grin. Dash gave her the same in return.

The head ref threw down his hoof as he blew the whistle to begin the second half.

Author's Note:

Seventh chapter complete! It all comes down to this. A one-goal deficit, and 45 minutes of play to make it up with at least one more. But that doesn't do much about the trouble in the stands. You'll just have to keep reading to find what's going on there.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Comments

[DreadedCandiru2]

Well, now that the hard part is over, time for the relative cake-walk of getting that nutcase Buckham.

[Dusk_Writer]

I'm so nervouscited!!! The second half of the game

[lord_steak]

6377947

Oh...I wouldn't count on that being a cake walk, even relatively.
And, this may be a tad silly, but I think you'd enjoy it, given who's your favourite. The meme says this theme goes with everything, and this is quite possibly its best remix. Start the tune, they go back to "The twins eep'ed quietly," and read it slowly and with purpose. Tell me whaCHA think.