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And here's part five of the Record Saga of Sterling Bengtzing! Lots of twists and personal stories arising, the new FBA draftee is found, and a detour that is bound to change Sterling's life and character.
All part of the
furrybasketball universe!
All the dialogue in this piece is to be ICly in Swedish.
Thanks to Taiama (from Deviantart) for the help, owner of Vendela.
=================================
H) Katrineholm (4:30 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Duncan Hansson
Kamil Björnsson
Team 2:
Stephanie Ericsson
Devon Mustonen
Karl Wiklund
20-22, Sterling’s team
“Irrkalla, burrkalla, fuckalla, shittalla, Jävlalla, Fantalla- I mean, that's what Finnish sounds to all of us, Devon, for fucking real…” Sterling jested to one of his rivals of the Katrineholm game, one that was won by his team on technical grounds, as a shot by one of the members of the opposing team overflowed the permitted score, effectively handing over the game to Sterling’s team. “Both of you groups got the guts other groups don’t, but you got to pair it with the awareness to look from where you shooting, if you do that, you’ll be unstoppable in the big league. You fucking scared me in thinking I lost!” the mustelid laughed, hopping off with his team for the next stop.
Sterling yawned, rubbing his eyes, obviously tired. “It's some while to Örebro, cousin, you might want to get some sleep for an hour or so. We got to refuel soon too.” Roland nodded, the canine adjudicator next to him yawning as well.
“The fuck is this Lagerström kid?” Sterling asked, not paying much attention to the subject. “He is fucking spamming my feed. ‘Pussy, shithead, I'm twice better than you, I would have won the ring by now’ the fuck does he think he is?” the mustelid’s tone getting angry.
“Eh, some kid who didn't make it. I'd say ignore it.” Roland replied.
While he was going to follow his cousin’s advice, Sterling saw a picture that made him think. ‘Waiting for you in Stallarholmen. Just say the fucking hour’ the message read, displayed a photo of a court, a tall badger, white and blond from head to toe, posing, holding a basketball on one hand, a paper signed with today’s date and hour, even with the name of the project, proving the picture had a high chance of being real. Before dozing off, the polecat sent a message to the direction. If his instinct was right, he could bring his city count back to 15.
Meanwhile in the next stop, Örebro, the group was knowing each other. One avian was purposefully avoiding the crowd, staying silent and fidgeting with her glasses, while the word that one of the players in that game was the other invitee in the stunt due to being an FBA draftee spread quickly. The relatively short bunny, by the name of Vendela Malmqvist, was giddy on the attention she got. "Malmo? And you from Örebro? What plane did you get to to get here this quick?" A pine marten, who presented herself as Sirbina Thorsson, asked to the bunny, now known across to be one of the two invitees due to her FBA declaration.
"I got here in my car." the lapine giggled, in a playful manner. “For a world record, everything!”
“It’s true! I’m from the UK!” a canine by the name of Shawn Olérs smiled.
"You one crazy bitch, Vendela..." the pine marten laughed. "I'd do the same if I was lucky enough to be invited here and going to the FBA. I had to audition for this! The stress of maybe not getting in, girl..."
Vendela looked at the pine marten funny, laughing alone. "Can't imagine how excited you must've been when you found out you were through!"
"Indeed! Like, it's the start of somethin-" she falls silent, looking behind the bunny. "He's here!" She pointed at the van, the big polecat saluting the players, looking at the sun rising.
"Åh gud!" Vendela exclaimed sort of awed, following the group, clapping excitedly. After the big polecat, obviously displaying some wear and tear, yet his steely determination shining through, presented himself to the group, they all took position ready to play, but many noticed something was off. On Sterling's side, the avian girl, a Golden Eagle, was still wearing her heavily tinted sunglasses, all handling the ball awkwardly as they tried to figure her up.
"Is she really leaving those on?" Shawn asked Vendela, her current teammate, as he passed the ball to her.
"Could be a trick?" the lapine said to herself, getting a little worried but still trying to stay focused at her best capacity. A failed shot by one of her teammates gave the chance for the spectacled avian to catch the ball, and dribble it away, the obvious not lost in the other players, let alone Sterling. Once she passed to the professional athlete, he stood still, motioning to the rest. “Okay, wait stop, stop the game!”
All the players were brought to a halt before someone even had the chance to score, shocked. Vendela looked at her teammates, shrugging confusedly and then look back at the Golden Eagle.
Sterling leered at his assigned teammate, who was looking down, somewhat ashamed. “Afërdita, as part of a proper post-game assessment, I need to see your eyes.” Sterling said on a serious tone. “Sunglasses off.”
“I want to keep them..." she said, taking everyone aback at being defiant against the host.
"What the hell?" Vendela whispered to Sirbina, expecting hell to break loose between both.
“Is she even serious right now?” a grizzly by the name of Kalle Zettergren, asked out loud.
Sterling's tone became even more upset to the young eagle. "Afërdita, if you don't, you'll be dropped, as well as one of the opposing team, to level grounds" The mustelid said, pointing at the direction of the rest of the players. Afërdita was feeling the pressure. "What will it be?"
Vendela swallowed hard, a terrified expression on her visage. She was the special invitee to the record and the FBA draftee, therefore ineligible to figure in the awards, so her mind raced that she could have been the one cut off from this world record, compared to the other furs. "Take the damn glasses off, for cripes sake!" she thought.
Kalle was calling the eagle out loud, who stood like a deer in the headlights, the tensions so palpable; no one knew what could have happened next.
"Okay..." she relented, taking the sunglasses off. What followed put a shocked face on the other players; the eagle standing there, looking at the ground dejected, for she displayed to her teammates and rivals that she only had one eye.
"Oh my...." Vendela whispers, the group as a whole feeling sorry or guilty at the avian the second she took her glasses off.
Sterling was visibly somewhat taken aback, but shook it off, to the puzzlement of the rest. "So, we're gonna reset. Örebro, here we go!" He said, tossing the ball to a tall german boar, one of his teammates.
The rest were as confused, but it was once forgotten once the game got rolling. They quickly learned that Afërdita’s disability didn’t hamper her skill that much, mostly that she relied in lot of facial movements and head spins to go through, but otherwise, she did not hesitate in taking shots for getting physical. Vendela could see the glint in the mustelid’s eyes as she stole the ball from him in more than one occasion. Despite a stellar showing from the opposite team, spearheaded by the half-Danish bunny, the game ended in favor of Sterling's team. While Vendela and Shawn were somewhat miffed, they recognized it was a good game, glad with not struggling. But first and foremost, they all grouped around Afërdita, expecting an explanation from her.
The eagle sighed. "Kosovo, 1999. A bomb detonated close to me and my family, and debris caught me there. I know I lied on my application, and the picture was me with my glasses, but the sport is my passion. Hence why I want to become a sports journalist. But this… I had to be a part of this. This is the most fun I had in years...” the avian looked at the floor, dejected. “Sorry for... this. Would think you had denied me if you knew..."
The group got close for the avian, expressing support and well wishes. "I think you're pretty awesome, even more after hearing your story!" Vendela said, always friendly.
"Well, realistically, it would be almost impossible we will literally all be stars on court, but we can always use someone on the booth to report us how awesome we are." Sterling winked at her. "Good game, girl. Get this record in your CV." The tall polecat goes to Vendela, obviously displaying some tiredness in his demeanor from a constant flow of games and little sleep. "Now, you and Sakarias in Norrköping will represent Sverige in the FBA in a couple of days. It's up to you to step up the game and really prove it for the country. I did it in my year, now it's your turn. And judging by today, you will be able to own this draft." he told the bunny, who was beaming with pride. "Just one thing..." he said, worrying Vendela. "If you're gonna rep Sweden, learn how to speak Swedish, not that Lego language of yours!" He taunted about her heritage, the rest laughing along.
“Lego language!? Come on!” she replied, defending herself. “But yes. I will take no prisoners. Go Sweden!” she exclaimed, now feeling pumped up for the upcoming big trip she was going to take, seeing the van drive of to the next destination, Västerås.
I) Örebro (6:30 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Frederick von Denner
Afërdita Krasniqi
Sirbina Thorsson
Team 2:
Vendela Malmqvist
Deborah af Klintberg
Kalle Zettergren
Shawn Olérs
21-19, Sterling’s team
The white badger woke up as his phone rang its alarm up, instinctively checking his messages out. Nothing really out of the ordinar-
“HOLY-” The shock of what he saw on the screen sent Viking to the floor, immediately regaining his composure, looking very well that it was Sterling Bengtzing who popped up in his messages, the badger’s plan clearly working towards what he wanted.
“Fan fan fan faaaaaaaaan...” Viking swore up a storm, hastily picking himself up, and trying to get dressed. The mustelid then grabbed his phone, thinking very carefully at the query the professional athlete posted.
”Stallarholmen, eh? Do you swear this is not a prank? If it is, you WILL be listening from some lawyers. Give me the address and a photo of the court WITH the date. Stat.”
The teenager quickly clad himself in a jersey, shorts and the only pair of sports shoes he owned. Fetching for his basketball, Viking snapped a photo of it next to a watch, displaying the current time. He was trying to think of any witty answer as he sprinted to the door, quickly greeting his parents on his way out to the court he came to know so well over his eighteen years of life. The mustelid thought he had the polecat round his finger, so he quickly tapped his phone with a simple quote.
“Be there in 5. Bring it on.”
J) Västerås (8:45 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Elliot Sjöström
Bryan Gulo Sjöström
Alexandra Lindfors
Team 2:
Aljoša Jurina
Jade Söderman
Abu Desmond Conteh
Gerardo Zambrano
21-14 Sterling’s team
“Holy shit, those two brothers were something else!” Sterling exclaimed, as he took his sweaty top off, replacing it with a fresh one. “I didn’t expect this game to be this fiery! Gonna be fucking hard to pick eleven...” the mustelid panted heavily, almost emptying a water bottle in a gulp, leaning back on the spacious interior of the van, reserved to his 6’ 11” frame. “How you doing there in front?”
“So far so good. Don’t fucking hog all the energy drinks, though!” Roland jested, while the adjudicator looked at the time, yawning.
“We should be able to complete the rest in time. I hope you managed to contact the Södertälje officials. It is an ambitious game the one you want to pull there.” the Italian canine commented.
“Trust me, it is as good as done. The best thing is that the players involved don’t even know yet!” Sterling grinned, looking through his phone: the badger who kept taunting him until the deep hours of the night replying with every single one of the polecat’s demands. “Alessio, do you think we can add one more game impromptu? Just me and this guy who popped up in Stallarholmen.”
“Is it on one city we have not visited? Technically, a one-on-one is okay, even if it may take just a minute to complete it. We know you wanted at least a minimum of two-versus-two, though...” Alessio commented.
“I think, I’ll make an exception. Roland, take a little detour after Eskilstuna. We’re bringing the count back to fifteen, baby...” Sterling replied, typing on his phone to the mysterious badger.
The other polecat made a quick park next to the court in northern Eskilstuna. “But what if it is a hoax or a prank? We can’t afford to lose more time, cousin...”
“Roland, sometimes in life, you gotta take the plunge. This kid might have just saved our fucking tails...” Sterling said, opening the door to see the new expecting players, immediately looking over at a marbled polecat about his stature in the crowd.
“Holy fucking shit...” the mustelid laughed, looking at the fellow polecat.
“Love Bejerholm, here to fuck up all the basics...” the youngster grinned, imitating Sterling. Besides having shorter, darker hair, and having a perfect row of teeth compared to Sterling’s, the aspiring player was a mirror image of the professional.
“The lack of sleep is getting to me...” the athlete replied, facepalming. “I hope you are fucking ready! There’s only one Sterling Bengtzing!”
K) Eskilstuna (10:10 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Albin Runebjörk
Spiro Fotiadis
Team 2:
Goran Žižić
Andreas Brodd
Love Bejerholm
21-18, Sterling’s team
Viking was growing the more anxious as time ticked. Ever since he got the text and saw the results of the Eskilstuna game, knowing his hometown was the next stop, he stood cemented on the court with a worn basketball in his fidgeting hands, looking at the road next to where he was. The badger had the script of the exact words he wanted to tell the polecat, he wanted to win, he wanted to leave his mark, he wanted to obliterate Sterling on the court to leave him receiving the most praise.
“Holy shit...” the teenager straightened up, the telltale van coming closer from the distance, his tail picking up, mixed emotions rushing over his body. Sterling quickly made his way out, looking at the badger: Viking was almost as tall as him and he could easily be confused by a polar bear, given that the markings which were usually black on his kind were bleach blonde in his case.
“You Viking from twitter?” Sterling asked, the badger nodding. The polecat was relieved all the taunting and the prodding did end up in a real player and not a prank to delay his time.“Tell the real name?”
“...Viking Lagerström?” he said after a while of awkward silence, making Sterling blink.
“You're… You're serious. Name’s way too badass to be your real one...”
“Ja, Viking Lagerström, born and raised.” he grinned. “Rejected my plea and now you here, so you finally got the balls to face me?”
Sterling scoffed at the taunting. “Haw, you wish. Time to finally shut that mouth of yours, alright?” the mustelid retorted, stretching up and getting himself ready for the one-on-one mustelid duel, which brought him some deja vu from earlier confrontations.
Viking looked at the polecat’s sweat stained jersey. “Same wear as the Eskilstuna game? I guess you’re still to scared to play shirts versus skins...” Viking commented, half shrugging. “Don’t blame ya...”
Sterling stopped in his tracks. Was this kid serious? “We're playing THAT fucking game, kid?” he growled, immediately getting his jersey off, displaying his toned, yet heavily scarred body, a known fact at that point. “You better be ready to prove your fucking self!” Sterling pointed at Viking, grabbing the teenager’s worn basketball.
“Huh, not as roadkilly as the pictures make it look." Viking kept rolling his mouth, smirking at the glaring athlete. “So many outlets call you a jerk, I actually prefer to call ya jerky.” the teenager smirked. Sterling was getting upset at the taunting, but overall, he was perplexed. This kid who tried his hardest to get in the record after getting cut was getting cocky and crass to him? What was up with that? With a sneer, the polecat quickly took position, the badger following suit. Despite the earlier excitement, Viking kept his poker face, giving the polecat attitude and sarcasm whenever he could. As Sterling drove to the paint, the blonde badger quickly tackled him mid air to steal the ball, getting the rebound and sinking the ball in the opposite bucket.
“So you're going in…” Sterling smirked. “...okay, Lagerström, it's on!” he snarled, going full-on aggressive to the fellow mustelid. The parallels to the games versus Barrett were obvious, and the teenage badger did not disappoint. It was full on physical: Viking tackling and blocking hard on the athlete, Sterling’s retaliations just as fierce. For all the bravado and the taunting the youngster did, the long-haired mustelid had to admit: this was the most primal game he had in all the games that day so far to date. There was nothing held back as Viking dunked stylishly, or Sterling blocked so hard, he sent the badger to the ground. The scoreboard was tied most of the time, the little audience they had was riveted to the intense action.
Several minutes passed, with both mustelids in the zone; the game early on in favor of the challenger, but in the tail end, a good shot is all Sterling needed. With a fake swipe, Viking stole the ball from Sterling, risking a shot from afar, which was no good. The professional did not skip a beat in getting the rebound, steamrolling through the teenager as he attempted the difficult shot from behind the line. It bounced precariously, but sunk in, effectively sealing the deal for Sterling to win over the badger.
“Okay…” Sterling panted, sweat cascading down his face, impressed at the badger’s skill. He turned at Viking, to find something was off. He started to tear up, choosing to shield himself from Sterling. The polecat looked at the badger with a puzzled expression, not what he was expecting after the earlier duel they both had. “What’s going on?” Sterling asked.
“Nothing, it’s whatever...” Viking tried to shrug off.
“No tell me, what’s going on...” he insisted, looking over at the camerafurs from Kanal 5, instructing them to stop the cameras for the time being, which they hesitantly did, the mustelid leering at them for the request to be done.
“It just fucking hit me...” the badger breathed hard through his nose. “After failing and being rejected, that I managed to get in in the end. After so much shit, just...” he tried to finish his answer, through sobs and coughs. Sterling was even more confused, seeing the emotionally raw teenager. “I didn’t want to say it to you, and I’m still afraid to say it… I was diagnosed with cancer just some days ago... I don't know yet how bad it is, but all tests came out positive. And to get in this record deal means so much...”
Sterling could only look at the vulnerable teenager. His tone was scared and despondent, and the polecat could not compute the scene at first, his cousin and the adjudicator looking from a distance, shocked. “My grandpa died of cancer, my brother died of cancer when he was 23, and now I got it. It plagues my family. I try to stay strong, for them, for their memory, for everyone around me, but now that this got to me I’m so weak and I... I don't want to die!” Viking yelled the last part, the statement sending chills to Roland and Alessio’s spines, making them tear up at the sight of his frightened sobbing. “I wanted to participate in this so bad, you got no idea. I want to be in the leagues, I want to… do all that you have done, but now I’m...not sure what will be of me...”
Sterling was speechless, a rare feat for him, at Viking. His level of dedication and raw talent and energy were something he has not seen before, and for him to come out with that fact, was the least expected thing he thought. “Viking… I’ve been in the FBA for two years now, and close to it all since the day I was born. I’ve seen great players come and go, I’ve seen many fucking fake ones too. I look at all the active and only feel the drive of competition, I never idolized any current player like everyone does. The only current player I’ve ever truly felt honored to be in the presence of... is you.”
Viking looked up, still crying, but looked up at Sterling, who started to choke and tear up as well. “You… remind me so much of myself. You didn't take anyone’s shit, you went out and got your goals and you gave a damn fucking good game, likely the best of all these people. You are more than welcome in this record and I'm so thankful and honored that I found you.” Sterling patted the badger’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eye, not bothering to hide his own crying.
“You will beat cancer. And I will see you in the big leagues. And we will kick so much fucking ass in the Olympics in Tokyo, you don't even know…” the comment making Viking laugh and loosen up. “What you give on the court is one-of-a-kind, and I refuse to watch it waste. Keep on it, because you will get big… You're an Alpha….”
“I will.” Viking smiled, his reply short, yet meaningful.
“Man, why do the good people always get the shitty things? Why couldn't McCarthy contract it? Or Davenport? Or the Turners? Or Maxwell? DQ?” Sterling exclaimed, making Viking laugh out loud, contrasting the dejection from earlier on.
“Cuz hers are all silicone and his fat cells don't evolve in cancerous?” he quipped behind his tears, Sterling laughing out loud.
“By the time you enter the draft, you will be a weapon of mass destruction.” he poked Viking’s arm. The polecat and the badger kept on talking about anything they had their mind on. Sterling did not care about the allotted 45 minutes for each leg in the stops; he was truly happy that this young, intrepid player found his way in his endeavor. Roland had to go to him and remind him about the rest of the games, the mustelid parting ways with Viking, giving him his personal number, promising to call up to check on the badger.
“That was… something, cousin… least we got 15 back on track.” he commented to the polecat, who was silent all the way.
“Roland… this is worth it now. The drive, the hours, the tiredness, the frustration… This is now worth it, all of it…” he told to the furs in the front seat, using his long hair to shield them from the view of tears streaming down his face.
L) Stallarholmen (11:30 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Team 2:
Viking Lagerström
21-16, Sterling
All part of the
furrybasketball universe!All the dialogue in this piece is to be ICly in Swedish.
Thanks to Taiama (from Deviantart) for the help, owner of Vendela.
=================================
H) Katrineholm (4:30 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Duncan Hansson
Kamil Björnsson
Team 2:
Stephanie Ericsson
Devon Mustonen
Karl Wiklund
20-22, Sterling’s team
“Irrkalla, burrkalla, fuckalla, shittalla, Jävlalla, Fantalla- I mean, that's what Finnish sounds to all of us, Devon, for fucking real…” Sterling jested to one of his rivals of the Katrineholm game, one that was won by his team on technical grounds, as a shot by one of the members of the opposing team overflowed the permitted score, effectively handing over the game to Sterling’s team. “Both of you groups got the guts other groups don’t, but you got to pair it with the awareness to look from where you shooting, if you do that, you’ll be unstoppable in the big league. You fucking scared me in thinking I lost!” the mustelid laughed, hopping off with his team for the next stop.
Sterling yawned, rubbing his eyes, obviously tired. “It's some while to Örebro, cousin, you might want to get some sleep for an hour or so. We got to refuel soon too.” Roland nodded, the canine adjudicator next to him yawning as well.
“The fuck is this Lagerström kid?” Sterling asked, not paying much attention to the subject. “He is fucking spamming my feed. ‘Pussy, shithead, I'm twice better than you, I would have won the ring by now’ the fuck does he think he is?” the mustelid’s tone getting angry.
“Eh, some kid who didn't make it. I'd say ignore it.” Roland replied.
While he was going to follow his cousin’s advice, Sterling saw a picture that made him think. ‘Waiting for you in Stallarholmen. Just say the fucking hour’ the message read, displayed a photo of a court, a tall badger, white and blond from head to toe, posing, holding a basketball on one hand, a paper signed with today’s date and hour, even with the name of the project, proving the picture had a high chance of being real. Before dozing off, the polecat sent a message to the direction. If his instinct was right, he could bring his city count back to 15.
Meanwhile in the next stop, Örebro, the group was knowing each other. One avian was purposefully avoiding the crowd, staying silent and fidgeting with her glasses, while the word that one of the players in that game was the other invitee in the stunt due to being an FBA draftee spread quickly. The relatively short bunny, by the name of Vendela Malmqvist, was giddy on the attention she got. "Malmo? And you from Örebro? What plane did you get to to get here this quick?" A pine marten, who presented herself as Sirbina Thorsson, asked to the bunny, now known across to be one of the two invitees due to her FBA declaration.
"I got here in my car." the lapine giggled, in a playful manner. “For a world record, everything!”
“It’s true! I’m from the UK!” a canine by the name of Shawn Olérs smiled.
"You one crazy bitch, Vendela..." the pine marten laughed. "I'd do the same if I was lucky enough to be invited here and going to the FBA. I had to audition for this! The stress of maybe not getting in, girl..."
Vendela looked at the pine marten funny, laughing alone. "Can't imagine how excited you must've been when you found out you were through!"
"Indeed! Like, it's the start of somethin-" she falls silent, looking behind the bunny. "He's here!" She pointed at the van, the big polecat saluting the players, looking at the sun rising.
"Åh gud!" Vendela exclaimed sort of awed, following the group, clapping excitedly. After the big polecat, obviously displaying some wear and tear, yet his steely determination shining through, presented himself to the group, they all took position ready to play, but many noticed something was off. On Sterling's side, the avian girl, a Golden Eagle, was still wearing her heavily tinted sunglasses, all handling the ball awkwardly as they tried to figure her up.
"Is she really leaving those on?" Shawn asked Vendela, her current teammate, as he passed the ball to her.
"Could be a trick?" the lapine said to herself, getting a little worried but still trying to stay focused at her best capacity. A failed shot by one of her teammates gave the chance for the spectacled avian to catch the ball, and dribble it away, the obvious not lost in the other players, let alone Sterling. Once she passed to the professional athlete, he stood still, motioning to the rest. “Okay, wait stop, stop the game!”
All the players were brought to a halt before someone even had the chance to score, shocked. Vendela looked at her teammates, shrugging confusedly and then look back at the Golden Eagle.
Sterling leered at his assigned teammate, who was looking down, somewhat ashamed. “Afërdita, as part of a proper post-game assessment, I need to see your eyes.” Sterling said on a serious tone. “Sunglasses off.”
“I want to keep them..." she said, taking everyone aback at being defiant against the host.
"What the hell?" Vendela whispered to Sirbina, expecting hell to break loose between both.
“Is she even serious right now?” a grizzly by the name of Kalle Zettergren, asked out loud.
Sterling's tone became even more upset to the young eagle. "Afërdita, if you don't, you'll be dropped, as well as one of the opposing team, to level grounds" The mustelid said, pointing at the direction of the rest of the players. Afërdita was feeling the pressure. "What will it be?"
Vendela swallowed hard, a terrified expression on her visage. She was the special invitee to the record and the FBA draftee, therefore ineligible to figure in the awards, so her mind raced that she could have been the one cut off from this world record, compared to the other furs. "Take the damn glasses off, for cripes sake!" she thought.
Kalle was calling the eagle out loud, who stood like a deer in the headlights, the tensions so palpable; no one knew what could have happened next.
"Okay..." she relented, taking the sunglasses off. What followed put a shocked face on the other players; the eagle standing there, looking at the ground dejected, for she displayed to her teammates and rivals that she only had one eye.
"Oh my...." Vendela whispers, the group as a whole feeling sorry or guilty at the avian the second she took her glasses off.
Sterling was visibly somewhat taken aback, but shook it off, to the puzzlement of the rest. "So, we're gonna reset. Örebro, here we go!" He said, tossing the ball to a tall german boar, one of his teammates.
The rest were as confused, but it was once forgotten once the game got rolling. They quickly learned that Afërdita’s disability didn’t hamper her skill that much, mostly that she relied in lot of facial movements and head spins to go through, but otherwise, she did not hesitate in taking shots for getting physical. Vendela could see the glint in the mustelid’s eyes as she stole the ball from him in more than one occasion. Despite a stellar showing from the opposite team, spearheaded by the half-Danish bunny, the game ended in favor of Sterling's team. While Vendela and Shawn were somewhat miffed, they recognized it was a good game, glad with not struggling. But first and foremost, they all grouped around Afërdita, expecting an explanation from her.
The eagle sighed. "Kosovo, 1999. A bomb detonated close to me and my family, and debris caught me there. I know I lied on my application, and the picture was me with my glasses, but the sport is my passion. Hence why I want to become a sports journalist. But this… I had to be a part of this. This is the most fun I had in years...” the avian looked at the floor, dejected. “Sorry for... this. Would think you had denied me if you knew..."
The group got close for the avian, expressing support and well wishes. "I think you're pretty awesome, even more after hearing your story!" Vendela said, always friendly.
"Well, realistically, it would be almost impossible we will literally all be stars on court, but we can always use someone on the booth to report us how awesome we are." Sterling winked at her. "Good game, girl. Get this record in your CV." The tall polecat goes to Vendela, obviously displaying some tiredness in his demeanor from a constant flow of games and little sleep. "Now, you and Sakarias in Norrköping will represent Sverige in the FBA in a couple of days. It's up to you to step up the game and really prove it for the country. I did it in my year, now it's your turn. And judging by today, you will be able to own this draft." he told the bunny, who was beaming with pride. "Just one thing..." he said, worrying Vendela. "If you're gonna rep Sweden, learn how to speak Swedish, not that Lego language of yours!" He taunted about her heritage, the rest laughing along.
“Lego language!? Come on!” she replied, defending herself. “But yes. I will take no prisoners. Go Sweden!” she exclaimed, now feeling pumped up for the upcoming big trip she was going to take, seeing the van drive of to the next destination, Västerås.
I) Örebro (6:30 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Frederick von Denner
Afërdita Krasniqi
Sirbina Thorsson
Team 2:
Vendela Malmqvist
Deborah af Klintberg
Kalle Zettergren
Shawn Olérs
21-19, Sterling’s team
The white badger woke up as his phone rang its alarm up, instinctively checking his messages out. Nothing really out of the ordinar-
“HOLY-” The shock of what he saw on the screen sent Viking to the floor, immediately regaining his composure, looking very well that it was Sterling Bengtzing who popped up in his messages, the badger’s plan clearly working towards what he wanted.
“Fan fan fan faaaaaaaaan...” Viking swore up a storm, hastily picking himself up, and trying to get dressed. The mustelid then grabbed his phone, thinking very carefully at the query the professional athlete posted.
”Stallarholmen, eh? Do you swear this is not a prank? If it is, you WILL be listening from some lawyers. Give me the address and a photo of the court WITH the date. Stat.”
The teenager quickly clad himself in a jersey, shorts and the only pair of sports shoes he owned. Fetching for his basketball, Viking snapped a photo of it next to a watch, displaying the current time. He was trying to think of any witty answer as he sprinted to the door, quickly greeting his parents on his way out to the court he came to know so well over his eighteen years of life. The mustelid thought he had the polecat round his finger, so he quickly tapped his phone with a simple quote.
“Be there in 5. Bring it on.”
J) Västerås (8:45 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Elliot Sjöström
Bryan Gulo Sjöström
Alexandra Lindfors
Team 2:
Aljoša Jurina
Jade Söderman
Abu Desmond Conteh
Gerardo Zambrano
21-14 Sterling’s team
“Holy shit, those two brothers were something else!” Sterling exclaimed, as he took his sweaty top off, replacing it with a fresh one. “I didn’t expect this game to be this fiery! Gonna be fucking hard to pick eleven...” the mustelid panted heavily, almost emptying a water bottle in a gulp, leaning back on the spacious interior of the van, reserved to his 6’ 11” frame. “How you doing there in front?”
“So far so good. Don’t fucking hog all the energy drinks, though!” Roland jested, while the adjudicator looked at the time, yawning.
“We should be able to complete the rest in time. I hope you managed to contact the Södertälje officials. It is an ambitious game the one you want to pull there.” the Italian canine commented.
“Trust me, it is as good as done. The best thing is that the players involved don’t even know yet!” Sterling grinned, looking through his phone: the badger who kept taunting him until the deep hours of the night replying with every single one of the polecat’s demands. “Alessio, do you think we can add one more game impromptu? Just me and this guy who popped up in Stallarholmen.”
“Is it on one city we have not visited? Technically, a one-on-one is okay, even if it may take just a minute to complete it. We know you wanted at least a minimum of two-versus-two, though...” Alessio commented.
“I think, I’ll make an exception. Roland, take a little detour after Eskilstuna. We’re bringing the count back to fifteen, baby...” Sterling replied, typing on his phone to the mysterious badger.
The other polecat made a quick park next to the court in northern Eskilstuna. “But what if it is a hoax or a prank? We can’t afford to lose more time, cousin...”
“Roland, sometimes in life, you gotta take the plunge. This kid might have just saved our fucking tails...” Sterling said, opening the door to see the new expecting players, immediately looking over at a marbled polecat about his stature in the crowd.
“Holy fucking shit...” the mustelid laughed, looking at the fellow polecat.
“Love Bejerholm, here to fuck up all the basics...” the youngster grinned, imitating Sterling. Besides having shorter, darker hair, and having a perfect row of teeth compared to Sterling’s, the aspiring player was a mirror image of the professional.
“The lack of sleep is getting to me...” the athlete replied, facepalming. “I hope you are fucking ready! There’s only one Sterling Bengtzing!”
K) Eskilstuna (10:10 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Albin Runebjörk
Spiro Fotiadis
Team 2:
Goran Žižić
Andreas Brodd
Love Bejerholm
21-18, Sterling’s team
Viking was growing the more anxious as time ticked. Ever since he got the text and saw the results of the Eskilstuna game, knowing his hometown was the next stop, he stood cemented on the court with a worn basketball in his fidgeting hands, looking at the road next to where he was. The badger had the script of the exact words he wanted to tell the polecat, he wanted to win, he wanted to leave his mark, he wanted to obliterate Sterling on the court to leave him receiving the most praise.
“Holy shit...” the teenager straightened up, the telltale van coming closer from the distance, his tail picking up, mixed emotions rushing over his body. Sterling quickly made his way out, looking at the badger: Viking was almost as tall as him and he could easily be confused by a polar bear, given that the markings which were usually black on his kind were bleach blonde in his case.
“You Viking from twitter?” Sterling asked, the badger nodding. The polecat was relieved all the taunting and the prodding did end up in a real player and not a prank to delay his time.“Tell the real name?”
“...Viking Lagerström?” he said after a while of awkward silence, making Sterling blink.
“You're… You're serious. Name’s way too badass to be your real one...”
“Ja, Viking Lagerström, born and raised.” he grinned. “Rejected my plea and now you here, so you finally got the balls to face me?”
Sterling scoffed at the taunting. “Haw, you wish. Time to finally shut that mouth of yours, alright?” the mustelid retorted, stretching up and getting himself ready for the one-on-one mustelid duel, which brought him some deja vu from earlier confrontations.
Viking looked at the polecat’s sweat stained jersey. “Same wear as the Eskilstuna game? I guess you’re still to scared to play shirts versus skins...” Viking commented, half shrugging. “Don’t blame ya...”
Sterling stopped in his tracks. Was this kid serious? “We're playing THAT fucking game, kid?” he growled, immediately getting his jersey off, displaying his toned, yet heavily scarred body, a known fact at that point. “You better be ready to prove your fucking self!” Sterling pointed at Viking, grabbing the teenager’s worn basketball.
“Huh, not as roadkilly as the pictures make it look." Viking kept rolling his mouth, smirking at the glaring athlete. “So many outlets call you a jerk, I actually prefer to call ya jerky.” the teenager smirked. Sterling was getting upset at the taunting, but overall, he was perplexed. This kid who tried his hardest to get in the record after getting cut was getting cocky and crass to him? What was up with that? With a sneer, the polecat quickly took position, the badger following suit. Despite the earlier excitement, Viking kept his poker face, giving the polecat attitude and sarcasm whenever he could. As Sterling drove to the paint, the blonde badger quickly tackled him mid air to steal the ball, getting the rebound and sinking the ball in the opposite bucket.
“So you're going in…” Sterling smirked. “...okay, Lagerström, it's on!” he snarled, going full-on aggressive to the fellow mustelid. The parallels to the games versus Barrett were obvious, and the teenage badger did not disappoint. It was full on physical: Viking tackling and blocking hard on the athlete, Sterling’s retaliations just as fierce. For all the bravado and the taunting the youngster did, the long-haired mustelid had to admit: this was the most primal game he had in all the games that day so far to date. There was nothing held back as Viking dunked stylishly, or Sterling blocked so hard, he sent the badger to the ground. The scoreboard was tied most of the time, the little audience they had was riveted to the intense action.
Several minutes passed, with both mustelids in the zone; the game early on in favor of the challenger, but in the tail end, a good shot is all Sterling needed. With a fake swipe, Viking stole the ball from Sterling, risking a shot from afar, which was no good. The professional did not skip a beat in getting the rebound, steamrolling through the teenager as he attempted the difficult shot from behind the line. It bounced precariously, but sunk in, effectively sealing the deal for Sterling to win over the badger.
“Okay…” Sterling panted, sweat cascading down his face, impressed at the badger’s skill. He turned at Viking, to find something was off. He started to tear up, choosing to shield himself from Sterling. The polecat looked at the badger with a puzzled expression, not what he was expecting after the earlier duel they both had. “What’s going on?” Sterling asked.
“Nothing, it’s whatever...” Viking tried to shrug off.
“No tell me, what’s going on...” he insisted, looking over at the camerafurs from Kanal 5, instructing them to stop the cameras for the time being, which they hesitantly did, the mustelid leering at them for the request to be done.
“It just fucking hit me...” the badger breathed hard through his nose. “After failing and being rejected, that I managed to get in in the end. After so much shit, just...” he tried to finish his answer, through sobs and coughs. Sterling was even more confused, seeing the emotionally raw teenager. “I didn’t want to say it to you, and I’m still afraid to say it… I was diagnosed with cancer just some days ago... I don't know yet how bad it is, but all tests came out positive. And to get in this record deal means so much...”
Sterling could only look at the vulnerable teenager. His tone was scared and despondent, and the polecat could not compute the scene at first, his cousin and the adjudicator looking from a distance, shocked. “My grandpa died of cancer, my brother died of cancer when he was 23, and now I got it. It plagues my family. I try to stay strong, for them, for their memory, for everyone around me, but now that this got to me I’m so weak and I... I don't want to die!” Viking yelled the last part, the statement sending chills to Roland and Alessio’s spines, making them tear up at the sight of his frightened sobbing. “I wanted to participate in this so bad, you got no idea. I want to be in the leagues, I want to… do all that you have done, but now I’m...not sure what will be of me...”
Sterling was speechless, a rare feat for him, at Viking. His level of dedication and raw talent and energy were something he has not seen before, and for him to come out with that fact, was the least expected thing he thought. “Viking… I’ve been in the FBA for two years now, and close to it all since the day I was born. I’ve seen great players come and go, I’ve seen many fucking fake ones too. I look at all the active and only feel the drive of competition, I never idolized any current player like everyone does. The only current player I’ve ever truly felt honored to be in the presence of... is you.”
Viking looked up, still crying, but looked up at Sterling, who started to choke and tear up as well. “You… remind me so much of myself. You didn't take anyone’s shit, you went out and got your goals and you gave a damn fucking good game, likely the best of all these people. You are more than welcome in this record and I'm so thankful and honored that I found you.” Sterling patted the badger’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eye, not bothering to hide his own crying.
“You will beat cancer. And I will see you in the big leagues. And we will kick so much fucking ass in the Olympics in Tokyo, you don't even know…” the comment making Viking laugh and loosen up. “What you give on the court is one-of-a-kind, and I refuse to watch it waste. Keep on it, because you will get big… You're an Alpha….”
“I will.” Viking smiled, his reply short, yet meaningful.
“Man, why do the good people always get the shitty things? Why couldn't McCarthy contract it? Or Davenport? Or the Turners? Or Maxwell? DQ?” Sterling exclaimed, making Viking laugh out loud, contrasting the dejection from earlier on.
“Cuz hers are all silicone and his fat cells don't evolve in cancerous?” he quipped behind his tears, Sterling laughing out loud.
“By the time you enter the draft, you will be a weapon of mass destruction.” he poked Viking’s arm. The polecat and the badger kept on talking about anything they had their mind on. Sterling did not care about the allotted 45 minutes for each leg in the stops; he was truly happy that this young, intrepid player found his way in his endeavor. Roland had to go to him and remind him about the rest of the games, the mustelid parting ways with Viking, giving him his personal number, promising to call up to check on the badger.
“That was… something, cousin… least we got 15 back on track.” he commented to the polecat, who was silent all the way.
“Roland… this is worth it now. The drive, the hours, the tiredness, the frustration… This is now worth it, all of it…” he told to the furs in the front seat, using his long hair to shield them from the view of tears streaming down his face.
L) Stallarholmen (11:30 A.M)
Team 1:
Sterling Bengtzing
Team 2:
Viking Lagerström
21-16, Sterling
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1024 x 683px
File Size 493.2 kB
Listed in Folders
Really loved this installment! Viking's take turned out great and with three games until the end, Sterling's adventure is coming to an end. Love's introduction got a big laugh out of me, and Afërdita's story was comparing in itself. Can't wait to see who'll make to that top 12! :)
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