'Ah, but Vetinari's got his reputation based on it.'

'It's a game. One side wins, one side loses. Just a game.'

'A lot of people aren't thinking like that,' said Dibbler. 'Things always come out well for Vetinari,' he went on, staring at the sky. 'And that's the magic, see? Everyone thinks he always gets it right. What do you think will happen if he gets things wrong?'

'It's just a game, Throat, only a game... Be seein' you.' Trev wandered onwards. People were putting up tiers of wooden stands on one side of the arena, and because this was Ankh-Morpork, when two or more people gathered together thousands turned up just to wonder why.

And there was Mr Ponder Stibbons, sitting at a long table with some of the football captains. Oh, yes, the Rules Committee. There had been talk about that. Even with the rules written down, and half of them as old as the game itself, there were a few things that had to be made clear. He arrived in time to hear Ponder say, 'Look, you can't have a situation in the new game where people hang around right next to the other team's goal.'

'Worked all right before,' said one of the captains.

'Yes, but the ball flies. One really good kick would send it down half the length of the Hippo. If someone gets that right the goalkeeper wouldn't have a chance.'

'So, what you're saying,' said Mr Stollop, who had become a kind of spokesman for the captains, 'is that there's got to be two blokes from team A in front of a bloke from team B before he scores?'

'Yes, that's about right,' said Ponder stiffly, 'but one of them is the goalkeeper.'

'So, what happens if one of them fellers nips past him downfield before he kicks the ball?'

'Then he will be what is traditionally known as off his side,' said Ponder.

'Off his head, more like,' said one of the captains. And since this had the same shape as humour, it got a laugh. 'If that's true, you could end up with loads of blokes rushing past one another, all trying to get the other poor buggers into an unlawful position without any of the poor devils moving, right?'

'Nevertheless, we are standing by this rule. We have tried it out. It allows for free movement on the field. In the old game it wasn't unusual for players to bring their lunch and a copy of Girls, Giggles and Garters and just wait for the ball to come along.'

'Hello, Trev, how are you getting on?' It was Andy, and he was standing behind Trev.

There must be a thousand people here today, Trev thought in a curiously slow and blissful sort of way. And a lot of watchmen. I can see a couple of them from here. Andy isn't going to try anything right here, is he?

Well, yes, he might, because that's what made him Andy. The little bee that buzzed in his brain might bang against the wrong bit and he would carve your face off. Oh, yes, and there was Tosher Atkinson and his mum, strolling about as if out for a walk.

'Haven't seen you about much lately, Trev,' said Andy. 'Been busy, I suspect?'

'I thought you were lyin' low?' said Trev hopelessly.

'Well, you know what they say. Sooner or later all sins are forgiven.'

In your case, quite a bit later, Trev thought.

'Besides,' said Andy, 'I'm turning over a new leaf, ain't I?'

'Oh, yeah?'

'Got out of the Shove,' said Andy. 'Gotta put aside my scallywag ways. Time to fit in.'

'Glad to hear it,' said Trev, waiting for the knife.

'So I'm a key player for Ankh-Morpork United.' It wasn't a knife, but it had a rather similar effect. 'Apparently his lordship gave them the idea,' Andy said, still speaking in the same greasy, friendly tone. 'Of course, no one wants to be the team playing you wizards. So there is, like, a new one just for the occasion.'

'I thought you never played?' said Trev weakly.

'Ah, but that was in the bad old days before football was open to more individual effort and enterprise. See this shirt?' he said.

Trev looked down. He hadn't thought much about what the man was wearing, just that he was there.

'White with blue trim,' said Andy cheerfully. 'Very snazzy.' He turned around. The numeral 1 was on the back in blue with the name Andy Shank above it. 'My idea. Very sensible. Means we'll know who we are from the back.'

'And I told your wizards that your gentlemen ought to do the same,' said Mrs Atkinson, surely one of the most feared Faces who had ever wielded a sharpened umbrella with malice aforethought. Grown men would back away from Mrs Atkinson, otherwise grown men bled.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net