Vinyl Scratch vs Football

by The 24th Pegasus

First published

Vinyl Scratch likes football. Octavia really likes football. Vinyl Scratch is terribly confused.

Vinyl Scratch likes football. Octavia really likes football. Vinyl Scratch is terribly confused.

This is all Zaponator's fault.

GGGOOOAAALLL!!!

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Vinyl Scratch had to admit, she’d seen some pretty great things come out of Earth ever since the portals opened. Humans had all sorts of magic a pony like her couldn’t understand; sure, they didn’t have, like, actual magic, but they had electricity and such a stubborn determination to make it do everything that they’d somehow tricked rocks into thinking. Or something like that. She really wasn’t sure how it worked, and she didn’t dare ask Princess Twilight how it worked, knowing full well the hours-long lecture that would follow, but it was still pretty neat stuff regardless. The introduction of the Internet to Equestria in particular had been one of the best things to ever happen to anypony’s life ever. She had all the information of the human world at her horntip, and it was a pretty good way to help share her music, too. She couldn’t deny that a market of seven billion people suddenly appearing overnight had done wonders for her career.

But there were still a lot of things she didn’t understand, like human sports. When humanity had given Equestria the television, she and Octavia had spent an entire week flipping through the channels just to see everything there was to see—only to conclude pretty quickly that, as the humans had foretold, there was always nothing to watch. Still, that didn’t mean that it was all hopeless. Octavia had told her of a sport the humans played called football that she absolutely had to see, and one night when Octy was out, Vinyl had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

She hadn’t been disappointed. Football was amazing.

So when Octavia had told her that the humans were playing their month-long World Cup tournament starting today, she’d been excited. She couldn’t wait to watch some more football and maybe learn something more about it from watching with Octy. After all, the cellist had gotten really into it, and she’d started decorating her room with memorabilia from her favorite teams. Though Vinyl didn’t recognize the teams Octavia rooted for—football had a lot of teams, and she was only just starting to learn what they were—she got the feeling that the team from the country of England was supposed to be a really good one. Apparently, they all talked funny like Octy, too. No wonder her favorite cellist had decided to root for them.

The first game didn’t start until later in the evening—that was how time zones worked between Ponyville and Russia, apparently. So, after getting a nice dinner together and a twelve pack of beer that would hopefully last them through the night, the two mares had settled down on the couch in anticipation of the game. Octy had even put on a jersey for the England team, and she practically shook on the couch in anticipation. Vinyl snickered as Octavia’s excitement stretched the fabric of her jersey; though humans didn’t make a lot of their clothing sized for ponies yet, Octavia had spared no expense to get Rarity to resize it for her. Now, Vinyl worried that the cellist would accidentally tear something if she kept at it any longer.

“Oh, when is the bloody game going to start already?!” Octavia moaned, her excitement turning to annoyance when the TV cut back to the announcers giving their pre-match commentary. “I’ve been waiting all day for this! The least they could do is hurry the damn thing along!”

Vinyl chuckled and rolled her eyes, an easy smile settling onto her muzzle as she cracked open her first beer. When Octy got excited about something, she really got excited. As for herself, she was just happy to absorb it second-hoof and watch a good game of football. She wondered if she’d misunderstood how the humans organized their competitions. She didn’t know that the World Cup, apparently the biggest thing in football, was supposed to happen already. She thought that didn’t happen until much later… but here they were. No sense in complaining about it, though; she was in for a good time, either way.

“Who’s playing again?” she asked Octavia, frowning at the television. The players walking onto the field didn’t look like how she remembered them looking in the football she’d watched. They were just wearing loose jerseys and short pants. Weren’t they supposed to be wearing more?

“England and Tunisia,” Octavia swiftly answered. “England is the favorite. I mean, this is only the first round of games. England usually goes far, from what I’ve heard. I’m excited to see them throttle the competition this year!”

“Huh. Never heard of Tunisia.” Vinyl lowered her brow. “Are they from Tennessee?”

“What? I don’t—no!” Octavia frantically shook her head. “They’re another country in Africa. They’re not as good as England.”

The screen changed to a shot of the players taking their positions on the field, and the announcers disappeared from the screen entirely, though their voices remained. Octavia practically slid out of her seat in excitement as an official dropped a spotted ball onto the field between two players, and after a brief struggle for the ball, it went sailing in one direction. “Yes!” she shouted, her eyes practically unblinking as the team in white shirts began driving the ball to one side of the field. “Yes! That’s it! Strike ‘em hard! Come out swinging and don’t let up!”

Vinyl blinked several times as the ball bounced around the field. It changed sides quite often, bounding from opposite sides several times before anybody even got a chance to take a shot on goal. She scratched her muzzle and frowned at the television. Was anything… was anything going to happen?

Apparently, a lot of things were happening, based on Octavia’s reactions. Over the first fifteen minutes, the mare had gone from excited and anxious to very excited and anxious. She would cry out as the match went on, either with excitement or dismay, and the longer it went, the louder and louder she grew. As for Vinyl… she just felt more and more confused.

“Come on!” Octavia shouted as the match entered its seventy-fourth minute in what, to Vinyl but apparently not to Octavia, had been a very uneventful game. “Come on! Give the ball to Trent! He can make the bloody magic happen!” Growling, she jumped onto her hooves and began to prance in place, her usually refined language slipping back into the more crass and crude language of her hometown. “Oi! Kick the bloody ball, ya fuckin’ cunt! Don’t be fuckin’ daft! He’s open!”

Almost as if the players on the field could hear her, one of the humans in white kicked the ball across the goal to another one rushing in from the corner. He leapt into the air, leading with his head, and the ball abruptly changed directions before sailing past the goalie’s outstretched hands and into the upper corner of the net. Immediately, the crowd on the television broke into cheering and dancing, reflected by the players on the field, who ran around hugging and jumping on each other—and also reflected by Octavia herself.

“GOOOOOOOAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!” the mare screamed, jumping up and down while Vinyl tried to tug on her ears to get the ringing out of them. Before she even knew what was happening, Octavia had dragged her off of the couch and was jumping up and down with her, too. “They did it! They finally fuckin’ listened! ‘Bout fuckin’ time, I swear! We got it now, love, we got it!”

“Uhhhh… go England?” Vinyl said, horribly confused. “Woo?”

Octavia finally released her to go prance about in celebration, and Vinyl decided to take the chance to go to the bathroom in peace. This was not what she was expecting from the World Cup. Why in Celestia’s name did they change all the rules? It was a great game just how it was!

Closing the door behind her, Vinyl sat down on the seat and pulled out her smartphone—another amazing invention from the human world. She didn’t know what was going on, but that football in the living room was not the football that she’d fallen in love with. Tapping on the phone with her magic, she quickly pulled up a video from what she’d heard was the greatest game of football in history—and starring none other than her favorite team as the ultimate champions, too.

“Super Bowl Forty-Two,” she murmured to herself, smiling as the big letters appeared on the screen. “I don’t know what Octy’s watching in there, but this is some real football.”