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Whatever Will Be Parts 1-5 - By Id (~BBW [Multiple], ~SWG, Sports)

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The Id

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~BBW, ~SWG - The beginning of a tale about the Linton United football team and one of its fatter fans.

Whatever Will Be 1: Season Opener
By Id


Lucy Heath didn’t like football—at least not until she came to Linton.

She had moved to the city of Linton after graduating from university to take a job as a bookkeeper for Blue Rabbit Brewery. Needless to say, her friends—especially the men—were incredibly envious of Lucy’s job. One person even said that Lucy had “the best job in the all of England”. All Lucy cared about was the fact that it was a pretty fun place to work. Her coworkers were friendly and generally relaxed, she had good benefits, and it was pretty much what she would have imagined working in a brewery would have been like, which was pretty fun.

One of Blue Rabbit’s biggest marketing efforts was its sponsorship of the local football team, Linton United. They didn’t play in the Premier League, but they were still a pretty good team, having been promoted through the leagues rather rapidly within the last few years. As a sign of thanks to Blue Rabbit for their sponsorship, not only were their beers prominently advertised at field level (and sold in copious amounts at the concession stands) but the brewery was given a number of complementary tickets for each home game. Lucy, not having much interest in football, didn’t take any of the tickets the first two years she worked at Blue Rabbit. It wasn’t until one of her coworkers, who was in charge of ticket distribution, realized that Lucy had never gotten any that she was pressed to go to a game.

“But I don’t like football,” Lucy said simply as she declined the tickets, “They’d be wasted on me.”

It took three weeks of incessant nagging before Lucy gave in and took a ticket just to get some peace and quiet. Lucy could have not gone to the game and explained later to her fellow coworkers who would have noticed her nonattendance that she had “forgotten about it”, “overslept”, or “gotten too busy to make it”, but Lucy knew that was only going to led to them foisting another ticket on her later. Therefore, Lucy bit the bullet and went to Stoney End, Linton United’s ground, for her first United game.

Perhaps the fact that it didn’t rain that day, which would have drenched Lucy to the bone, was important. Maybe the fact that Lucy’s coworkers purchased her enough beers to send her home sufficiently tipsy by the end of the game also had an impact on her overall experience. Most importantly, had Linton United not defeated Wessex FC by a score of 3-1 that day, Lucy Heath might never have gotten into football. Whether it was fate, luck, or destiny, Lucy Heath slowly but surely began to become a football fan from that day forward.

Over the remainder of the season, Lucy gradually put her name in more and more often for the company seats. When she got rained on for the first time, Lucy stayed—largely because it was a 1-1 tie against Covent Harbor and she wasn’t about to miss a potential game winning goal just because it was raining. When United played Strudbury to secure a spot for promotion, Lucy was now so into football that she skipped out of work early so she could watch the game from her local pub. The following season, Lucy Heath had a season ticket for Linton United and a her very own blue and white jersey to show her support for United at all times.

Three years after attending her first football game, Lucy was a confirmed United fan. She had barely missed a home game in that time, except for once when she had a case of very bad food poisoning. If it had been only a mild case of food poisoning, she might have made it, but it was a very bad case. Accordingly, she had to listen to the game on the radio while she hurled into her toilet periodically. But that was the only exception to Lucy’s fanaticism for United.

“And that’s pretty much it,” Lucy said, finishing up the story of how she came to be a United fan.

As usual, she was telling it to the guy she was chatting up at the bar of the Buck & Boar Pub, her neighborhood haunt. She found that guys usually found women who liked football rather interesting, so she never hesitated to tell her story when she happened to meet someone who she was at least mildly interested in. Mildly interested was a proper description of Lucy’s thought regarding the man in question, so she wasn’t trying too hard to strut her stuff right now. Though she tried to give guys a fair shot so she wasn’t making any judgments, but she was coming pretty close to one.

Lucy was a pretty girl, so she had occasion to regale men with the origin of her football fanaticism quite often. She was fair skinned to a fault with the sort of ivory complexion that one associates with Queens of England. Her chocolate brown hair fell in gentle, natural waves a few inches beyond her shoulders. As the saying goes, gentlemen prefer blondes, but marry brunettes. Lucy’s beautiful, rich hair was precisely the sort of thing that could make a man eschew a stereotypically gorgeous blonde for a brunette.

It should be noted that Lucy left one thing out of her story that was kind of important. Ever since Lucy had become a fan of Linton United, not only had her interest in football expanded quite a bit, but so had her waist.

This was due to a number of different factors. The first was the concessions sold at the games. Stoney End was not highly creative in the fare it offered to its patrons. It pretty much just sold pies and burgers for food and none of it was particularly healthy. In fact, had the nutritional values of the dishes been widely disseminated, there might have actually been protests by some fans for healthier food. Accordingly, Lucy’s diet of meat and potato pies at football games very quickly started showing up on her frame—though Lucy had never been a slim girl. Ever since high school, Lucy had been described as “healthy”, though certainly not fat. Adding the tasty pies to her diet had made Lucy chubby, to say the least.

The fans of Linton United were also more than pleased by the fact that Stoney End sold Blue Rabbit’s brews at games. Lucy had always enjoyed a good beer and it seemed that having one while watching football was even better, regardless of whether it was at home, in a pub, or in a football stadium. Naturally, she was a Blue Rabbit girl—or, in the words of the popular ad campaign directed at women, “a Blue Rabbit bunny”. All those empty calories had to go somewhere. It turned out that somewhere was straight to Lucy’s belly.

This was all to say nothing of the snacks that Lucy ate when she watched a game from the comfort of her own couch. Crisps seemed to go perfectly with a United game on the telly (naturally accompanied by a beer), but that didn’t stop Lucy from bringing in pizza, opening a bag of cookies, or sometimes even indulging in some ice cream. Lucy seemed to choose ice cream more when she was watching a game in which Linton was doing rather badly.

Accordingly, Lucy had become quite the little chubby in recent years. She stood at 5’” and her diminutive stature only accentuated the 30 pounds that she’d gained in the last three years. The majority of this weight gain had gone directly to Lucy’s belly. It was a soft pot belly that almost always sat in a most delectable muffin top above whatever pants Lucy was wearing. This was largely a result of the fact that though Lucy was aware that she had “put on a few”, as she said, it had been quite some time since she’d gotten new jeans and pants. Her current selection of bottoms fit decently, but they tended to only further emphasize the fact that she’d put on so much around her middle.

The rest of Lucy had been far from immune, however. Her hips had widened out in circumference. Lucy had a plump rump that gave her plenty of cushioning when she’d sit and watch United on the telly. Her thighs had expanded from being merely annoyingly large (as the thighs of every woman not starving herself are) to soft and hefty. Like so much of Lucy, they jiggled ever so slightly, not enough for Lucy to take note.

Lucy’s breasts had also expanded over the past few years. Since she’d come into her womanly curves, Lucy had always had a decent pair of breasts. Thanks to her weight gain, she now had hooters that deserved—and often received—a double take, even if her growing gut was still the largest portion of her physique. In acknowledging that she’d “put on a few” (which, by the by, went hand in hand with going up two dress sizes in the last three years), Lucy had taken note of her more impressive assets with mixed feelings. Though she knew it was a side effect of those pesky pounds, Lucy couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that she sported a larger rack. After all, she was getting a noticeably larger number of glances from men directed at her chest with her healthy handfuls. It was entirely possible that Lucy’s muted glee over her generous gazongas subconsciously kept her from ever joining a gym to work off her football pounds—but the thought never actually crossed her mind.

Lucy had always had a bit of a round face, but the fact that all of her figure was now fuller only helped to exaggerate her face’s natural inclination. Lucy had a cute little rounded nose with the slightest hint of an upward angle, emphasizing her nostrils just a shade. To either side of this nose were green eyes that had been known to shine, though not often after a long day of work or a particularly bad United defeat. Lucy’s cheeks were chubby to say the least, though not so much to give her an undue resemblance to a chipmunk. Beneath a small, cute chin was the hint of extra flesh. It was far from a double chin, but it suggested the potential for just such a thing. Lucy’s lips seemed to walk a balance between being plump without being overly so.

This night at the Buck & Boar, Lucy was looking especially plump in a pair of jeans that gave her a very pronounced muffin top. Lucy’s shirt was stretched tightly across her bulging belly. It was hard to tell whether it was designed to do that or it did so because there was no other course of option to try and contain the jiggling gut, but the result was that the dimensions of Lucy’s belly were completely defined for anyone who wanted to take notice. In fact, upon seeing Lucy it was kind of hard to take notice of anything else about her at a first glance. This was despite the fact that Lucy’s shirt had a generous cut, giving an ample amount of cleavage for anyone to look at. This only served to provide an even greater testament to the quasi-magical quality of Lucy’s magnificent muffin top.

“So, I trust that you’re going to be going this season?” the man that was currently chatting up Lucy asked her.

“Of course!” Lucy said, “How could I do anything else? If it was a choice between beer or United tickets, I’d go for the United tickets.”

“Really?”

“Okay, you’ve got me,” Lucy said, “I’d go for beer because I could watch the games on the telly here or somewhere else while I had one. But still, I love the boys just as much as I love my beer.”

Lucy Heath was a true football fan indeed.

***

Evan Bonn was not a football fan. In fact, he didn’t even say the word football. “You’re never going to cure me. It’s soccer, plain and simple. Football is a vastly more interesting sport that involves…wait for it…actual scoring! What an idea!” Evan said to David Giggs at a pub across town, specifically a contemporary joint called Delta Lounge, that very night.

Evan was, quite obviously, an American and his comment only caused David to shake his head in utter dismay. He’d been trying to cure Evan of his irrational notions for several months now. Evan worked at the American consulate in Linton and the pair had been introduced by a mutual acquaintance at a cancer fundraiser last year. That sparked general conversation that was so amiable that the two continued the acquaintance. After all, it was very useful for Evan to have a solid local contact in his line of work and David, who did business with a number of American firms, knew that having someone in the consulate could be useful some time. However, though the genesis of their friendship might have been in business, that was only a very negligible part of it now.

“But can’t you at least get behind the idea of Linton United?” David begged, “Look, it’s like the Green Bay Packers. The fans own the team. Doesn’t that at least make you want to go to a game?”

“I certainly approve of the concept. Power to the people and all,” Evan said, “But that fails to redeem an entire sport.”

“What about relegation? Sending teams down a level if they don’t perform well and all. American sports have nothing like that. That’s got to be a plus in our favor.”

“That is a decent incentive to perform well. Though something tells me that the Oakland Raiders and the Detroit Lions might not like the idea.”

They’d gone over all of these arguments at least a dozen times before, but that didn’t matter to David. He was bound and determined to get Evan to actually like football before he left the UK. Thus far Evan hadn’t budged an inch.

“Look, will you at least agree to go to a game since a new season is starting soon? I’ll stop bugging you if you go and you don’t like it. At least you can say you’ve tried it. I’ll get prime tickets,” David said. Evan appeared unmoved as he sipped his mojito, one of the drinks that Delta Lounge did particularly well. “Okay,” David said, “I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’ll buy your beer at the game.”

Evan perked up. “Oh really?”

“Yes,” David sighed.

“Then it’s a deal,” Evan said, extending his hand, “Though I have to say, I’ve seen the footage from some of your riots. Giving you guys alcohol at these events doesn’t seem like the best idea.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing like drunk chicks at a football game,” David pointed out.

“Hold on partner. Don’t claim that for football,” Evan said, “I speak from personal experience when I say that it’s true for all sports. Baseball, football, basketball, hockey, soccer, rugby, and even field hockey.”

“Field hockey?”

“Oh yeah,” Evan said coolly, “I’ve never seen women drink like they do at a field hockey game.”

“Probably because they’re stuck watching field hockey,” David said, unable to contain his smirk.

Evan’s laugh boomed out in response. “Touché, sir!”

***

As Linton United took to the pitch for their home opener at Stoney End in their blue and white jerseys, the moderately large crowd cheered and applauded for them. It was the beginning of a season which made for a generally optimistic atmosphere where anything was possible. This year United had moved up a division and some were questioning whether United had what it took to hang with their new competition. In Linton, however, everyone had no doubt that the boys were going to do just fine.

Lucy Heath was one such person. The fact that it was football season once again made it easier to get through the week. She was more productive at work and all around happier when she had football to follow, even when United lost. She was adorned in her United jersey as she always was for a home game. The jersey had been bought a couple years back and as a result the jersey was a little smaller than it should have been. Lucy’s belly bulged out in every direction, straining against the jersey’s lower portions. Lucy was wearing a pair of her most comfortable jeans, which, despite the fact there was a little extra room in them, still gave her a pretty noticeably muffin top.

“Wooo!” Lucy yelled to express her support for the team.

She had her season tickets right next to a friend from work, Margaret Charlton. Margaret wasn’t as much of a football fan as Lucy, but she never missed a game. That was only if you defined a game as the act of going to a United match, rather than what happened on the pitch. Margaret frequently missed quite a bit of what happened on the pitch because she was too busy checking out the United players with her binoculars, which is precisely what she was engaged in doing at that very moment.

“Number 42 is new,” Margaret said as she peered through her binoculars, “He’s a pretty good acquisition from what I can see her. Yes, very fine indeed…” She put her binoculars down to flip through her program. “There we are. Gerry O’Brien. Irish boy. Wonder how bad his teeth are…”

“You are incorrigible!” Lucy exclaimed. She tolerated Margaret’s preoccupation with, “the meat market”, as she called it solely because she would have found it too depressing to go to United games alone. At least this way she had a companion, even if it was one who wasn’t paying as close attention to the game as Lucy would have liked.

“All right, fine, he’s a good replacement for Dunstan,” Margaret conceded, “What we really need are some Spaniards on the team. They’re so hot…”

Lucy could only roll her eyes.

***

“Can you please tell me when something happens?” Evan asked David.

“Something is always happening,” David said, “Just watch.”

“They are kicking the ball back and forth and getting nowhere near a goal,” Evan observed, “That is not something. There’s no progress.”

“There is actually a strategy involved,” David said.

“Is it trying to lull the opposition to sleep? And by extension the fans?”

“For flippant remarks like that, I should stop buying you beer,” David said.

“And renege on your word! How could you even think of such a thing? Especially when they have a pretty good product on hand here,” Evan said before taking another good draw of the beer in question.

“Yeah, it’s local stuff. Blue Rabbit Brewery. They put out some good brews. They support the team and the team supports them in kind. It’s the beauty of local football. The fact that the team is fan owned helps too,” David said, trying to subtly extol the virtues of football and Linton United in the process.

“These guys should seriously consider exporting to America,” Evan said, “This is one of the smoothest beers you guys put out. It could go over exceedingly well.”

“Is that the official position of the American government?” David asked.

“Oh the official position is that you guys are not drinking nearly enough Coors, seeing as that’s the last one that’s even remotely American owned anymore,” Evan said, “But go ahead and throw some Miller and Budweiser into the mix. We’ll be cool with that. And hey! Look at that! Somebody actually shot the ball towards the goal. Would it going in have been too much to hope for?”

“No. But that was the other team,” David said.

“And who are they?”

“Northanger Abbey. And by the way, a suit? Really? You wore a suit to a football match?”

“As an official representative of the United States of America I always strive to make a good impression, no matter what the situation. Hence the blue and white tie.”

“So you are interested in football,” David said.

“I looked it up on the website. I figured it would impress the ladies,” Evan said slyly.

“Well they’ll be even more impressed if you actually like United and could talk about what happened in the game,” David observed.

“Damn. I think I just got outmaneuvered,” Evan said.

***

United won their opener against Northanger Abbey by a score of 2-1, which made everyone happy. Lucy left Stoney End in good spirits with Margaret, who had found “this season’s heartthrob” in the Swiss-born Max Hiller, to celebrate with a couple of drinks. Evan had taken full advantage of the fact that David was paying for beer, so he was pretty well tanked by the end of the game. David pretty much shoved him into a taxi that took him back to his residence, leaving David to his own devices for the remainder of the day.

It should be noted that David was highly involved with Linton United. Not only was he one of the fans who owned a share in the team, but he also volunteered some of his free time to help support the team’s operations and events. As an amateur photographer, David always brought his camera to Linton games to take some pictures for the official fan website. Some of them were quite good and had even been used in official promotional material by the team.

In the afterglow of a win, David naturally decided he should go mingle with his fellow fans. After having to put up with Evan’s football ignorance for an entire game, it would be a relief to be able to be among people who didn’t feel that the “offside rule was totally prejudicial. Just because somebody can outrun the defense doesn’t mean he should be penalized for that”. That was just one sampling of the rubbish that Evan had spouted all game long.

He popped into what appeared to be a happening beer garden that David knew was always full of United fans after a home game, win or lose. David knew the bartenders well, who had told him that though they loved United, the fans drank a significant amount more when the team lost than when they won. As they always said, “It’s a win-win situation. Either they win or we win.”

After grabbing a beer for himself, David wandered around the beer garden. As he encountered people he knew casually from United games he’d shake hands and exchange pleasantries with them. The talk was generally the same whoever it was with.

“How about United today?”

“Great, weren’t they?”

“Might have the makings of a championship this year!”

“They keep playing like this I think they just might!”

It was after one such conversation that a part in the crowd gave David a view of a young woman wearing a United jersey. She was listening to another woman talk about something or other—David couldn’t tell what at this distance. What he could make out was the fact that this girl had plenty of extra padding around her midsection. In fact, she had a generous muffin top, but that didn’t seem like an adequate term. It resembled a mushroom cloud more than it did a muffin top.

The truth was that she looked great, especially seeing how she filled out her United jersey. David had always tended more towards voluptuous women than he did svelte ones, but that usually manifested itself in an admiration for hourglass shapes. For some reason this girl still caught his eye. Perhaps it was her cute face with that brown hair. David couldn’t pin his finger on it, but he did know one thing.

He wasn’t about to pass up a chance at meeting a girl who looked cute in a United jersey.

***

“…and so I said—”

“Excuse me ladies. Picture for the fan site?”

Margaret halted her story and Lucy turned to look at the man who’d just come up with a camera.

“Sure,” Lucy said with a smile. It wasn’t the sort of thing she usually did, but United had won, so why not? She put one arm around Margaret and the two raised their beers in celebratory poses.

The camera flashed as it snapped a picture and the man looked at the camera’s screen to see how it came out. “Looks great!”

“Mind if we see?” Margaret asked. He turned the camera around so they could look at the picture. “Hey, we’re not half bad!”

“Oh you’re nowhere close to half bad. More like 75% awesome if you ask me,” the man said with a wink.

“Only 75%? I’m disappointed,” Lucy said with a smile.

“I think this is going to go on the front page of the website,” the guy said.

“Oh no! You couldn’t possibly!” Lucy said in a sudden fit of embarrassment at the thought.

“I mean it! What’re your names so I can make sure they go up on the site?”

“And my name too! No, never!” Lucy insisted.

“Well I’ll give you our names,” Margaret interjected, “but only if you swear to keep that picture to yourself.”

“It’ll be a shame not to have you guys on the site, but okay.”

“I’m Margaret and this is Lucy.”

“And I’m David. Pleased to meet you both.”

“Same here,” Lucy said, shaking David’s hand, “So, you’re very involved with United then?”

“Here and there. I contribute to the fan site and help out how I can. You two go to the games a lot?” David asked.

“Season tickets for the past couple years,” Lucy said, “Never missed a game since then. I trust that you come to the games a lot?”

“Oh yeah. Every one for the last few years. I love United,” David said.

“I know! I almost get depressed when there aren’t any games,” Lucy said.

“You too? And here I thought I was the only one!” David exclaimed.

“We’re a quietly suffering bunch,” Lucy said.

“Sorry to intrude, but since you are involved with the team, any chance you might be able to introduce me to Hiller?” Margaret interjected.

“I’m not that close with the team, but I wish I was,” David said apologetically.

“Damn. You two stay right here. I’m off for another beer,” Margaret said before she left.

“You’ll have to forgive her. She’s more interested in which player is a hunk than which one scores goals,” Lucy explained.

“Whatever gets people to games is fine by me,” David said, “No apologies needed. So, what is it that you do?”

“Oh, I’m a bookkeeper. Nothing special really…”

***

“…and after that we just kind of talked for a few minutes. It was really enjoyable. Nice to meet a girl who really appreciates football,” David told Evan a couple nights later at Tolliver’s Pub.

“Congratulations,” Evan said, though with a little less enthusiasm than he felt. It wasn’t because he wasn’t happy for David—quite to the contrary, he was elated. It had taken him a good day to work through the monster hangover he’d awoken with after the United game and he was still taking it a little easy. “So when are you going to call this chick?”

“We prefer to say ‘bird’ in England,” David corrected.

Evan waived his hand dismissively. “Whatever. When are you going to call her?”

“Well…that’s an interesting part of the story…”

“Please do not tell me that you didn’t get her number,” Evan said, bracing himself for the worst.

“She and her friend suddenly realized the time and had to run out quickly.”

“Oh David.”

“She said she hoped we’d meet again at another game.”

“Oh David,” Evan groaned, putting his head down on his crossed arms on the table, “Not the old ‘I have to go and conveniently forgot to give you my number’.”

“She was very pleasant. I just forgot,” David explained, “Believe me I’m kicking myself now.”

“Oh David. David, David, David. You should be. How many people show up to United games? A few thousand?” Evan said.

“Thereabouts.”

“That’s not quite needle in a haystack territory, but those are long odds,” Evan said, “Just thinking about it makes me need a beer. I’m thinking one of those Rabbit beers. Want one?”

“Sure,” David said.

“I’ll buy because I know you’re kicking yourself so much that you’re still paying for that mistake,” Evan said, “If only it was as easy as ordering a beer, my friend. Then we’d be set.”

Story continued in post 4 of this thread
 

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