Oh what a game it would have been Comrades! The valiant side of Tartan Devils FC symbolically sewing shut the gaping maw of the Tarnished Gold of Norwin (now hiding behind the jovial moniker, Yinz United). Instead the outcome can only be supposed, a cancellation, to the relief of the foe.
Picture the seasoned machine that is Tartan Devils FC, the gears working to the final result of victory: The Forwards, the ever onward rushing Vanguard of the Proletariat, rendering the opposing defense helpless; The Revolutionary Red Tartan Brigade Midfielders in transition frustrating all; the Iron Will of the Gang of Four materialized into impassable reality for vain attempts by the competition; and The Bench Mob- exactly that, ready and willing to overwhelm with understood purpose. And all the calm while, instruction and adjustment being sent in from the voices of The Party.
But not to be. Younger members of The Statesurmise the Glorious Pitch of Our Founders to have been sabotaged by a fairly new and nefarious organization of Scientology, their plans for controlling the skies with a 'weather machine', finally come to fruition. Elder Statesmen say it is a matter of happenstance and the campaign of the assimilation of states is an inevitable conclusion, merely delayed.
On, on, on to the Cup and it's symbolic glory! The bridges are burned behind us, there's waiting guns ahead! Into the Valley of Competition TDFC! Glory to the Party, the Pub, and the People!