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ANNUAL GORMBALL CHAMPIONSHIPS SPECIAL
The Rush of the Game
The Annual Gormball Championships have arrived.
Oh, how my excitement has been revived!
Who can win it all this year?
If it's Thyassa again, I may drop a tear.
We have Ember the faerie of fire --
Thankfully she has yet to retire.
Mock her the other faeries do,
But you would find casting spells scary too!
Then comes Kevin, the Korbat in a vest.
Yes, that shirt truly separates him from the rest.
His opponents stare at the monogrammed "K",
Suddenly on their chest the ball is slammed, hey!
But not even this can scare off good ol' Gargarox;
The only one to beat him was put in the penalty box.
You see him holding utensils in his hand;
You just know that he has something extra planned.
However, Brian is aware of this and more --
Scorchio caught cheating, he must settle the score.
Accuse him of cheating once, shame on you;
Accuse him of cheating twice, get ready for the goo!
Ursula the Usul doesn't fall for threats;
No, she's the best of the best.
Obsessed, possessed, finessed, she's ready to attest
That when facing her in Gormball, you won't rest.
Who learned this last year was Farvin the Third,
So embarrassing it was, from joining this tournament he was almost deterred.
He brings back to Neopia the strength of an alien --
Looks at Zargrold and thinks "Assail him!"
Now it's up to him, Mr. Cool,
A Grundo who thinks it easier than making gruel.
The secret to his game is the glasses --
He feels quite comfortable, thinking he looks classic.
But now running at them all comes Thyassa.
Just plays so good, it seems nothing can harass 'im.
Alas, my fears have been confirmed --
His status as #1 has just been reaffirmed.
He lives in our skies,
Way up there in space.
The Virtupets Space Station,
That is his place.
Grundo Chef to some,
Gormball player to others.
He thinks up new stuff
For all the food lovers.
He spends all his time
in his Grundos Cafe,
Except this time of year,
When it's his time to play!
Gormball's the game
Of not might but of skill.
Why not give it a try?
It is quite a thrill.
Come but once a year.
So get ready, get set.
It's our time to cheer.
He's finished in second,
He's finished in third.
If he doesn't win,
It'd be quite absurd.
He says "I've been training,"
and with a big grin,
"I'm playing this year
And I'm playing to win!"
The crowd is like a roaring wave,
It's massive drenching that they crave.
Who should win? The thoughts are mixed,
All eyes upon the field are fixed.
The players stand, all on display,
And quickly game is underway.
Each choice that's made is vital here,
A wrong one brings the thing they fear.
Hold too long what is bestowed,
And run the risk it might explode!
Weep if wrong, if right rejoice,
But always make the fastest choice.
Thyassa catches, passes on,
To Ember, in a second, gone.
The faerie stands, a soaking mess,
(The crowd does laugh, I will confess!)
Onward toward Brian's own hands,
There it bursts right where he stands.
Kevin is gone in rapid flash,
Then Farvin III with mighty splash.
Gargarox is next to go,
Toward Zargrold doth Gormball flow.
To Ursula he passes quick,
Then back to him does Gormball flick!
They pass it quickly, to and fro,
Tension in the crowd does grow.
Ursula, three seconds holds,
The final moment then unfolds.
Toward Zargrold she doth unload,
With mighty splash it does explode!
A Reasonable Question
Oh, dearest Brian, wherefore do you cheat?
It's an air that trails you to each Gormball meet
Your eyes sparkle bright, a spring to your feet
And you veil your intents with moves so discreet.
The days you could hide it are now quite long-gone,
As a young Scorchio with vigour and brawn,
They cheered, not booed, as you graced the lawn.
Such welcome you now see is largely withdrawn.
For your Gormballs are sticky or quite over-full,
Exploding when thrown after a moment's lull.
That's only the start of the tricks you pull,
For wherever you are, a game's never dull.
Your paws are masterful, your skill is quite sheer,
And yet, you'll be kicked out once more, I do fear.
With dishonour your game and tricks oh-so near --
You'll not be the champion in the 'leventh year.
Today's an extra special day,
A wonderful game we will play!
We throw a ball of water blue,
And its form we do pursue!
Gormball is the name of the game,
In Neopia it has grown in fame.
And indeed, so famous has it become,
That Gormball day has finally come!
The players circle 'round the grass,
The ball's released, here comes the pass!
Here it flies to cries and cheers,
And maybe to quite a few sneers...
Kevin the Korbat makes his hold,
The ball explodes, leaving him cold.
Up and around the ball makes flight,
Much to the crowd's great delight.
Gargarox falters, Farvin's gone,
The water really greens the lawn!
Zargrold fails to grasp the ball,
The 'coolest' Grundo loses it all!
Ember's fire is quenched quite fast
By the ball's unpredictable blast.
Ursula the Usul falls behind,
Thyassa and Brian are the last to find.
The game heats up to the highest scale,
For whom will the trophy unveil?
Will it be Brian, the Scorchio red?
Or will Thyassa keep his lead?
The ball's released, cheers fore!
Until your throats become most sore!
Left and right, right and left,
Passed at once by hands most deft.
Suddenly there is a blast,
But who has been left to the last?
One steps forth, the crowd is wild.
Brian won, and he has not beguiled!
Ursula's third, Thyassa stands second,
While Brian holds the coveted garland.
Come on, friends, join the fun,
Of the Gormball Championship!
Prepared for Gormball Games
This year I'm going to come prepared
For the annual Gormball Games.
I'll wear my flashy Gormball Sports Shirt
Splashed with Thyassa's name.
I'll cheer my favourite player on,
Screaming from the stands,
With Gormball Knee Guards fixed in place
And Gormball Gloves upon my hands.
I'll watch them flip a Gormball Coin
To see who will go first,
Then hold my breath while seconds tick
Like a Gormball waiting to burst.
I've read Acara Gormball Tips
And the Gormball Heroes Annual,
Even How To Be a Gormball Champ
By Ursula the Usul.
I've practised with my Sticky Gormball
And my two Gormball Throw Toys,
But playing is not my preference --
I'd rather watch and make some noise.
Yes, this year I'll come prepared,
With Gormball Necklace, Board Game, Mask,
And not forget Gormball Sugar Cookies
When I'm ready for a snack!
As the Sphere's Hurled...
The air grows eerily silent
as combatants take their positions,
it is not war they make today,
but the manic game of Gormball.
A crowd gathers,
and hushed whispers are heard,
as favourites are chosen,
and bets are made.
One player produces the object
that separates the mighty from the weak.
The omnipotent decider:
Then, with a cry, the sphere is hurled
and streaks toward its first victim,
who catches it and holds it tight,
as he plans the next attack.
And then, a whoosh, the orb's away,
soaring to the next to go,
who clasps it in his meaty hands
and stares down all his foes.
The game continues, the battle rages,
with no one gaining an edge.
The fervour of the crowd increases,
as they sense the end draw near.
A player grasps the ball
and smirks at his next victim.
He can almost taste sweet victory
on his dry and cracking lips.
But then the ball begins to shudder,
and panic shows its face,
as confidence is switched with fear,
as precious time runs out.
He winds up to throw the sphere,
but alas! It is too late.
The orb explodes with a mighty POP!
spewing forth its contents.
The loser marked, he shuffles off,
his shame's a heavy cloak.
And all the players hoot and cheer,
and celebrate their luck.
But soon, the game resumes,
and players play once more,
for that is how this game is played,
the manic game of Gormball.
upon the emerald
stalks, six masters of
Gormball. Glares rippling
across fair autumn's sighs,
calculating, among which the
crimson pair shines. Gargarox
Isafuhlarg eyes the tumbling
fickle Gormball with renowned
expertise, coaxing it onward
to shrewd Brian with the
merest of pauses. His
thoughts linger with
the aroma of his
Cafe as the
cheer if he,
Zargrold the COOL
Zargrold the Cool dons his dark tinted shades
And readies himself for the game.
He's mentally prepared for the match to be played;
To simply have fun is his aim.
You see, he cares not who should win or should lose,
He only is playing for fun.
For whether the Gormball explodes with its ooze
On him, he still feels he has won.
"I play for excitement," he says with a wink,
"You know, dude? That's really what matters.
The trophy is worthless. Well, that's what I think.
Who cares where the Gormball will splatter?"
And though he's not placed in a tournament yet,
He still reappears every year.
He has such fond memories and no regrets.
For him, the rewards are quite clear.
From behind his dark glasses, his eyes are aglow,
Not caring at all who should win.
He steps on the field, now preparing to throw.
He's ready. Let the games begin!
A round peculiar ball
Bursting at random intervals
Mastering the catching technique
Only seconds left to think.
Should I pass it over to Ember?
Or do I pass it back to the next one over?
So many things I should be trying,
So little timing.
What do I do?
Whom should I pass it to?
No time to waste,
I'll pass it to Ursula,
Maybe it'll burst in her face!
Okay, here goes...
Closing my eyes, not knowing who I chose,
Throwing the Gormball up real high,
Hoping it'll burst on this last try.
I begin to open my eyes now,
Without knowing how much time had passed,
I see a message that says I won, at last!
Oh my! Oh wow!
But wait, I'm not done!
What's this? A Random Event?
A shiny new avatar is what it sent!
Not only did I win this game,
I got an extra avatar to add to my name!
So happy, filled with glee,
I thanked the contestants, you see.
I told them I'll see them next time...
But as I turn, I hear Ursula yell,
"Next year, You're MINE!"
Total Poetry Pages : 1984
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