2026-08-25, 01:52 PM - Word count:
Cape Town twinkles and shines in the distance from the foothills around Table Mountain. The sunlight is glorious and the birds are singing their delightful music.
The sun is starting to set and is spreading a golden hue over the scenery, like the earth itself is shimmering with delight.
On a stony path, a red faced, helmeted cyclist is trundling uphill, our hero Nick Kasak, Kaapstad midfielder, is trying yet another way of training before the season starts. Mountain biking is not always known for its great cardio workouts, and the risk of injury may be of some concern to the club’s medical team, but Nick is hovering on air, hoovering up the scenery and loving every minute.
Screeching around bends and kicking up dust, he skids to a halt on the path
He checks the phone mounted to his handlebars, the blue dot indicating his location has a large circle around it, and zero bars of signal.
LOW BATTERY pops up the screen.
While the scenery may be delightful, Nick is now starting to worry. He’s not entirely sure now which direction is the way down. Cape Town starting to look very far away indeed. Now, in this situation he could just call the club. They have always been very understanding, and sends out a car in 6 hours or less now.
But if his battery died, no one would know he was missing until he didn’t turn up for training tomorrow. This was pretty bad, and could get worse. He looks one way and then the other, then heads off back the way he emerged from.
________
No no, this can’t be right, night is rapidly falling and all of the paths look identical. Nick’s phone is now completely without battery. He flicks the lights on his mountain bike and prepares for what will either be adventure or failure.
He pedals hard, pushing himself around corners, the small circle of light ahead now his only target – the only things he can see in front of him.
Trees and bushes are thicker now he is further down but the noise of Cape Town seems a distant memory.
He hopes he can find home before the wildlife can get him, he swerves at the last moment to avoid a tree branch, he laughs nervously to himself – this was kind of fun after all.
He hears a rustling in the undergrowth and turns his head to see – a figure!
He cranes to look, seeing a dark skinned man in robes?
when-
BAM
________
“So welcome in, folks to the SSL season 127! We’ve just enjoyed another expansion and we’re now up to a whopping 19 teams competing.”
Nick’s vision is black, but he is no longer in the night time, he is seated at a Stadium. Kaapstad’s very own Nelson Mandela Stadium, but it looks… different. The crowd are dressed up in neon, many of them lighting up in Kaapstad green, seemingly at will.
Overhead, lots of strange looking aircraft glide seamlessly through the sky one after the other.
“Your Kaapstad team isssss….”
The announcer has been whipping the home fans into a frenzy, floating screens in front of the stands project three dimensional images of players.
“He always gives you what you want, it’s AL GORITHM.” A heavily tattooed figure with gloves that are lit up appears on the screen and flexes his muscles.
“Your wingbacks are ALAIN QUAY and ARMAND HAMMER.” Two heavily moustachioed men appear to the delightful roar of the crowd. Nick furrows his brow at the names… what is going on?
“In central defence, they’re not placeholders at all, it’s FIRSTNAME LASTNAME and PERSON PERSON,” two completely featureless, but somehow still distinctly person shaped, humans appear enthusiastically waving and giving thumbs up. A boy next to Nick in the stands activates the lights on his replica shirt and LASTNAME goes bright yellow on his back.”
“Your midfield isssss….RAMSAY McIRNBRU and TWELVE ANTS.” Sure enough, twelve very large ants are somehow sharing one kit, and the other figure looks like a viking, complete with Axe and horned helmet.
Kasak is more confused and becomes aware that no one has acknowledged his presence yet. Is he really here? Is this…
“DUNCAN DISORDERLY and BILL CLINTON on the wing,” this time the figures are a very animated man with a shaved head, who cracks open a can of lager and downs it immediately and alongside them, not even in kit, is former US President Bill Clinton, complete with navy blue presidential suit and saxophone. Bill looks especially pleased to be here.
“And finally…….”
Kasak clocks someone walking onto the pitch towards him…
“Your strikers…”
The figure from the trees, looking directly at him and walking at pace…
“the best Cape Town has to offer…”
He’s almost halfway to Nick, who can only stare, seemingly rooted to the spot.
“The smoothest man in the business…”
The figure is still staring, but has a small smile – but why has no one else noticed this?
“And the most unpredictable player we’ve ever seen…”
The robes he is wearing look like something he’d seen before. Traditional, southern African? Nick didn’t know exactly where he had seen this but he couldn’t help but trust…
“Its DOLPH DOLPHIN and BAG O’CATS”
A completely hairless grey man and a little bag of domestic cats appear on the big screen as the Kaapstad team in the flesh start trotting out somewhere on Nick’s right.
But now the tall dark skinned figure is nearly with him, he reaches out a hand to Nick’s head and then-
________
Nick drops to the floor, catching himself before falling on his face. His finger feel the stones and the dirt of the forest floor he’d been in moments before, but the dawn light is now shining upon it. He looks up, the dim still hurting his eyes as if he’d been asleep for hours. He is by the side of a road next to his car and his bike is propped neatly up against it.
He feels a pain in his head and reaches up to it – and finds a bandage in its place.
He moves quickly to his car’s wing mirror and checks – he has a black eye and bandaged head but is otherwise looking none the worse. He looks around for someone – anyone – to explain, but the area is deserted.
Confused but relieved, he reaches for his car keys, delighted to find them still there, and loads his bike ready to go - to training.
*All player names plus many more available £4.50 + postage each
The sun is starting to set and is spreading a golden hue over the scenery, like the earth itself is shimmering with delight.
On a stony path, a red faced, helmeted cyclist is trundling uphill, our hero Nick Kasak, Kaapstad midfielder, is trying yet another way of training before the season starts. Mountain biking is not always known for its great cardio workouts, and the risk of injury may be of some concern to the club’s medical team, but Nick is hovering on air, hoovering up the scenery and loving every minute.
Screeching around bends and kicking up dust, he skids to a halt on the path
He checks the phone mounted to his handlebars, the blue dot indicating his location has a large circle around it, and zero bars of signal.
LOW BATTERY pops up the screen.
While the scenery may be delightful, Nick is now starting to worry. He’s not entirely sure now which direction is the way down. Cape Town starting to look very far away indeed. Now, in this situation he could just call the club. They have always been very understanding, and sends out a car in 6 hours or less now.
But if his battery died, no one would know he was missing until he didn’t turn up for training tomorrow. This was pretty bad, and could get worse. He looks one way and then the other, then heads off back the way he emerged from.
________
No no, this can’t be right, night is rapidly falling and all of the paths look identical. Nick’s phone is now completely without battery. He flicks the lights on his mountain bike and prepares for what will either be adventure or failure.
He pedals hard, pushing himself around corners, the small circle of light ahead now his only target – the only things he can see in front of him.
Trees and bushes are thicker now he is further down but the noise of Cape Town seems a distant memory.
He hopes he can find home before the wildlife can get him, he swerves at the last moment to avoid a tree branch, he laughs nervously to himself – this was kind of fun after all.
He hears a rustling in the undergrowth and turns his head to see – a figure!
He cranes to look, seeing a dark skinned man in robes?
when-
BAM
________
“So welcome in, folks to the SSL season 127! We’ve just enjoyed another expansion and we’re now up to a whopping 19 teams competing.”
Nick’s vision is black, but he is no longer in the night time, he is seated at a Stadium. Kaapstad’s very own Nelson Mandela Stadium, but it looks… different. The crowd are dressed up in neon, many of them lighting up in Kaapstad green, seemingly at will.
Overhead, lots of strange looking aircraft glide seamlessly through the sky one after the other.
“Your Kaapstad team isssss….”
The announcer has been whipping the home fans into a frenzy, floating screens in front of the stands project three dimensional images of players.
“He always gives you what you want, it’s AL GORITHM.” A heavily tattooed figure with gloves that are lit up appears on the screen and flexes his muscles.
“Your wingbacks are ALAIN QUAY and ARMAND HAMMER.” Two heavily moustachioed men appear to the delightful roar of the crowd. Nick furrows his brow at the names… what is going on?
“In central defence, they’re not placeholders at all, it’s FIRSTNAME LASTNAME and PERSON PERSON,” two completely featureless, but somehow still distinctly person shaped, humans appear enthusiastically waving and giving thumbs up. A boy next to Nick in the stands activates the lights on his replica shirt and LASTNAME goes bright yellow on his back.”
“Your midfield isssss….RAMSAY McIRNBRU and TWELVE ANTS.” Sure enough, twelve very large ants are somehow sharing one kit, and the other figure looks like a viking, complete with Axe and horned helmet.
Kasak is more confused and becomes aware that no one has acknowledged his presence yet. Is he really here? Is this…
“DUNCAN DISORDERLY and BILL CLINTON on the wing,” this time the figures are a very animated man with a shaved head, who cracks open a can of lager and downs it immediately and alongside them, not even in kit, is former US President Bill Clinton, complete with navy blue presidential suit and saxophone. Bill looks especially pleased to be here.
“And finally…….”
Kasak clocks someone walking onto the pitch towards him…
“Your strikers…”
The figure from the trees, looking directly at him and walking at pace…
“the best Cape Town has to offer…”
He’s almost halfway to Nick, who can only stare, seemingly rooted to the spot.
“The smoothest man in the business…”
The figure is still staring, but has a small smile – but why has no one else noticed this?
“And the most unpredictable player we’ve ever seen…”
The robes he is wearing look like something he’d seen before. Traditional, southern African? Nick didn’t know exactly where he had seen this but he couldn’t help but trust…
“Its DOLPH DOLPHIN and BAG O’CATS”
A completely hairless grey man and a little bag of domestic cats appear on the big screen as the Kaapstad team in the flesh start trotting out somewhere on Nick’s right.
But now the tall dark skinned figure is nearly with him, he reaches out a hand to Nick’s head and then-
________
Nick drops to the floor, catching himself before falling on his face. His finger feel the stones and the dirt of the forest floor he’d been in moments before, but the dawn light is now shining upon it. He looks up, the dim still hurting his eyes as if he’d been asleep for hours. He is by the side of a road next to his car and his bike is propped neatly up against it.
He feels a pain in his head and reaches up to it – and finds a bandage in its place.
He moves quickly to his car’s wing mirror and checks – he has a black eye and bandaged head but is otherwise looking none the worse. He looks around for someone – anyone – to explain, but the area is deserted.
Confused but relieved, he reaches for his car keys, delighted to find them still there, and loads his bike ready to go - to training.
*All player names plus many more available £4.50 + postage each
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