United States Announces WSFC Roster

[Metafiction]

Dozens of reporters have crammed themselves into Ballroom C of a Holiday Inn in Portland, Maine, and are awaiting the announcement of the United States' roster for the World Simulation Football Classic. After a quarterfinal exit at the hands of the Baltic Federation in the first edition of the tournament a few seasons ago, pundits are predicting anything from an unbeaten run to the trophy to a meek, gormless group stage flameout this time around. Though until now all speculation has been made with no concrete concept of the squad that will actually be attending the tournament, the short, somewhat chubby gentleman in an ill-fitting suit that now scurries into the room carrying a marked-up piece of paper has information that will shed light on that mystery. The man comes to a halt behind the podium at the back of the room as a hush falls over the assembled press.

"Thank you all for coming," says Metafiction, the manager for the United States WSFC squad, adjusting the podium mic. "As you can all probably guess, deciding on the fourteen names to make our squad was anything but simple. It's a testament to the talent pool here in the United States that, even after several high-profile defections--" (here he pulls away from the mic slightly and, as those in the front row can just barely make out, grumbles something about Zambia under his breath) "--it was genuinely a struggle to decide who to leave home. But I think there's no point in delaying this any further, so without further ado..."

There's a slight shuffle of papers as Metafiction begins to read off the following list of names:

Jalen Brooks (@Tayjay)
Charlie Chambers (@Rich)
Nicholas Corrigan (@scottisheyebrow)
Quaquaval The Duck (@tredpalo)
Henry Fantobens (@Fantobens)
Aaron Ford (@Aford9910)
Jude Greer (@Metafiction)
Adam Knight (@Runningman434)
Bob Kronkowski (@papalinator)
Angry Lizard (@McGriddy10)
Hugh Mann (@Aenir)
Pete Martell (@ComebackZak)
Stan Still (@Daniel)
William Williams (@Xotcin)

Silence falls on the ballroom as the last name leaves Metafiction's lips. The press absorbs the information they've just been made privy to as the manager puts the paper away.

"For those whose name I didn't just call," Metafiction picks up again, "please understand that this was not a decision made flippantly. Many of you are extremely talented, but whether it's too early or too late in your careers, I ultimately decided that this squad gives us as a nation the best chance possible at success. Please don't be discouraged or offended--instead, continue to develop your game and gain valuable experience, and next tournament you'll have an excellent chance of making the plane.

"For those I have named," he continues, "I wish to impress upon you the nature of the task ahead. This squad is as good as any other squad attending the World Simulation Football Classic. However, due to our nature as one of the most prominent teams in the tournament, much is expected of us--and not only that, but our opponents will see us as the biggest and most prestigious target to to take down. Not to artificially raise the stakes or anything, but I've already been informed by US Soccer that should we fail to at least make the knockout round, they'll send someone to meet us at the airport when we return and break my kneecaps with a baseball bat." This gets a chuckle from the press, but less in a "haha funny joke" sort of way and more in a "haha yeah that's true actually" manner.

"Not only that, but..." Metafiction pulls away from the mic, as if deciding how he wants to phrase this next part. Eventually he leans back in. "I understand that many of you may have mixed emotions about representing the United States of America given certain recent...events." There's an uneasy murmur at the acknowledgement of the unnaturally orange specter hanging over proceedings. Metafiction takes a deep breath and continues. "I can honestly say that I had some misgivings myself about representing our nation, as doing so means, justifiably or not, bearing some responsibility for the toxic atmosphere that pervades our society today." Here he pauses meaningfully, before pressing on. "However, I believe it's our responsibility to represent this nation in a way that reflects who we wish to be, rather than what we are. Let's not let ourselves be defined by who sits in the White House or who controls Congress, but who we are as people--strong, determined, and never afraid to stand up for what's worth fighting for. After years of our society being divided and turned against one another, I ask the players--and not only the players, but the press, and our supporters as well--to come together over the next few weeks, and celebrate what really makes America great. Thank you."

The words ring in the air and the press chatters to itself as Metafiction hastily leaves the ballroom. He's out of there so quickly that nobody's had time to ask what Alexi Lalas thinks about his squad. Probably for the best.

[Xotcin]

USA! USA! USA!

Honored to be one of the fourteen selected.

[McGriddy10]

LET'S GO! ANGRY LIZARD FINNA RUN LAPS AROUND THE COMPETITION

[norththegreatestshowman]

The Holy Football Empire will be your opponent

[tredpalo]

GOD BLESS AMERICAAAAAAAAA. LAND THAT I LOVEEEEEEEEE