#once again sticking this footie post in the tag

[liesmyth]

@takiki16 tags on my post are too good not to be shared! The context is wild shit that legit happened in IRL football ⚽ that I need the Ted Lasso fandom to be aware of, because it'd make for excellent fic material:

the MANAGERS #the PERSONAL DRAMA#I KNOW that ted lasso is not designed to be an actual realistic show #I KNOW that this whole thing did in fact begin as a way to soft trap Americans into watching the Prem #to the point that JOSE FUCKING MOURINHO ACTUALLY HAD A PART IN THE ORIGINAL NBC AD #I do NOT want to change the vibe of the show at all #(but like…a dramedy about the EPL that REALLY wanted to roast some fuckers would perhaps…NOT look like ted lasso #if they wanted to start with the managers it would just be two middle aged idiots with BOILING beef #who had to be physically restrained from throwing hands every other game and have personally destroyed each others’ marriages

Okay WHO would Roy have managerial beef with. I vote Arteta. Actually as @elizabear suggests, it's funnier if it's one sided

He would also instinctively dislike Rob Edwards of Luton because Jamie once said he's the hottest manager in the EPL. Roy's annoyed and he doesn't know why. (Rob Edwards is very hot)

For an example of managers throwing hands... the Tuchel/Conte handshake

In fact here's a whole compilation of managers throwing hands.

Thank you for bringing up Mourinho! This is his ad, btw. "What do you WANT Ted?" lives in my mind rent-free

After much soul-searching I've decided Roy likes Mou a lot among all the managers he's played for. YES, he is a total cunt BUT

he's really fucking funny about it. Like, really.

he's never met a referee he didn't have beef with but most of all Anthony Taylor (as a Roma fan I have to agree with him on that)

the entire 2005 Chelsea team would've died for him. I've said this before, but there can't be a Frank Lampard in TL if Roy plays the box-to-box midfielder role, so this quote about Mourinho walking into Lampard naked in the shower to give him a pep talk? That's Roy. To me.

I can't even pick a quote among all the shit he's said about all the managers he's played against, but I especially enjoy when he used to be a bitch about Pep and Pep was like "I don't know her." It was like a one-sided crush dating back from their Barca days

#if they wanted it to be about the players the literal sky is the limit. WHATEVER the writers room can come up with#it cannot come CLOSE to the batshit drama that real Sockckckckcer Playahs have amongst each other#also intricate rituals. NOT ENOUGH INTRICATE RITUALS#when Jamie scored that free kick after getting permission to be a prick Dani should have kissed him with tongue

Here's some homoeroticism:

#but TO COME BACK TO OP’S POINT ABOUT ACTUAL GAMEPLAY#I want to see Coach Roy get red carded and have to sit in the stands for the next game cursing and swearing

He'd get, like, 3 red cards a season MINIMUM. Mourinho who. Here's Klopp losing it a bit. Here's Pep being passive aggressive as fuck. Pochettino from 2 days ago. Also from last weekend: De Zerbi's "I don't like 80% of referees in England" he's so right for this.

Manager Roy would get himself red carded the week before Richmond play Chelsea away. Totally accidental. So he doesn't have to have a lil cry about it.

#I want to see what it would take to get Zoreaux sent off#and then they have to stick Bumbercatch in goal and it turns out he has some Hyper Specific Phobia about the situation#he manages to save the team but his coping mechanisms for dealing with Forcible Keeper Phobia make up the comedy B-plot of the episode#

I want CLUB RIVALRY. dunno where Richmond actually physically is but imagine if they had derbies#Ted has to be made to understand that no coach - for THIS game we will not stop till we see BLOOD#Richmond wins but bc they are playing away the home fans actively are tossing crap at them as they celebrate on the pitch#also the sprinklers come on and it’s a bus full of soaked greyhounds on the ride home

They're in West London! Maybe they just fucking hate Fulham. Or Brentford.

Actually, I've thought long and hard about Richmond's derby rivalries. Semi-canon sources say they have a bit of a West London rivalry with Brentford BUT to me it doesn't make much sense because Richmond are supposed to have been mid-table in the Prem for years, top-flight but mediocre. Brentford only made it to the Prem in 2021.

Actually, I've decided that Richmond kind of take the place of QPR for most of their history, except they didn't get relegated when QPR did. This is because 1) it'd be too many London-based clubs otherwise but, more importantly, 2) when Man City won their first title in 2012 with Agueeeeeero!!! that was against Richmond. It's funny, To Me.

Also you know Roy still fucking hates Newcastle from his Sunderland academy days. If his pundit career had lasted longer he'd be having top tier shithousery with Alan Shearer every week about it.

Anyway here's a whole youtube playlist about WILD derbies.

#ALSO BC SUAREZ IS COMING TO MIAMI - BITING INCIDENTS CAN THEY DO THAT

As an Italian I am legally obliged to SAY that if Suarez hadn't bitten Chiellini at the World Cup we would have gone past the group stage because Uruguay scored off a corner they won while Italy were all busy telling the ref that there was a fucking cannibal on the pitch. I don't forgive and I don't forget.

Anyway for context: cannibal Luis Suarez. He's a repeat offender. Someone at Richmond would think it was very funny

#once again sticking this footie post in the tag #ted lasso #FIC AUTHORS I HOPE THIS INSPIRES YOU #tumblr user taakiki16 you're SO valid for those tags I love them #sports #i'm sorry re roy & mourinho it's just true. roy in his prime playing days wouldn't have cared about the cuntery #as a manager he wouldn't be shit to his physio but as a player? sorry it wasn't a deal breaker. he likes mou more than ancelotti. to me #ted lasso meta #i mean. sort of lmao #long post #afc richmond #roy kent #various irl footie people #futbol

[amortentiaboys]

Okay please tell me if the Beautiful Game is Quidditch fic or soccer au pls 👀

it is indeed! the idea was born from this wonderful gorgeous showstopping amazing piece by @mar-mellata and our subsequent conversation/ fangirling over football!harry! i’m super interested in how harry would become a muggle football player, why he would choose it over quidditch, and how on earth draco would fit into all that madness as a star quidditch player/ the snootiest WAG you’ve ever seen 😂 also, i just want to write a very self-indulgent scene of harry and dean bonding over their mutual love of footie, seamus yelling very enthusiastically about the “scrums” (wrong game, seamus) and ron just sitting there looking nonplussed 😂 this excerpt is just an embellishment of my tags under mar’s post, but here it is:

*** It was only after Hogwarts, after the War, when Harry found the photo.

He was finally getting around to refurbishing Grimmauld Place. Mostly because he had nothing else to do. Cleaning gave you direction, according to Hermione, and Grimmauld was about fifty years overdue for a spring clean. Ron thought it would be a good way to get fit for Quidditch league trials in the Autumn as well as “getting rid of that troll piss stench, seriously, it’s minging.” He was not wrong.

Four dozen Scourgify charms and countless Tergeo’s later, the three of them flopped on the floor of Sirius’ room with a collective groan. 

“Merlin, I’d forgotten how loud Walburga is,” Ron whined, his face red and hair sticking out in every direction from the summer heat. Harry stifled a laugh; the colouring combined with the pose made him look like a melting Pumpkin Pasty.

“Yes, well, at least you didn’t have to battle off a Bundimum infestation in the attic,” Hermione griped, plucking a sootball from her tank top. “How was the dining room, Harry?”

“Cursed,” he replied, throwing an arm over his eyes, “I spent an hour wrestling with a swan figurine. A swan figurine, ‘Mione.”

“So that’s why Kreacher was wittering on about blood sports,” Ron muttered darkly.

Harry huffed out a laugh, his eyes slipping shut. He was shattered. His mind was just beginning to drift when he heard the rattle coming from Sirius’ wardrobe.

Harry groaned again. Kreacher had been muttering about a brood of Hinkypunks nesting in this part of the house. 

Only it wasn’t a Hinkypunk infestation. 

It was a shoebox, tucked away at the back of the wardrobe. It rattled again as Harry reached towards it. 

“Harry! At least cast a Revelio, for goodness sake.”

“Hermione, if I’m vanquished by a cursed Black family heirloom, it’s not going to be one of Sirius’ manky old shoeboxes.”

Harry heard her huff behind him. “Fine, on your head be it. Ron will be the one taking you to St. Mungo’s, though.”

“Merlin.” He nearly dropped the box when he realised what was inside. 

It was a collection of pictures from Sirius’ Hogwarts days, obviously taken with Lupin’s charmed polaroid. There were ones of his mum and dad, Lily beaming and shoving at James as he slung an arm around her and tried to kiss her cheek. Ones of Sirius and Lupin sprawled on the ground by the Black Lake, squinting against the sun with tired smiles and looking a little worse for wear. Harry smiled back at these sepia versions of them; must have been a full moon the night before.

He almost didn’t catch the final photo, seeing as it was stuck to back of the last one. Once Harry wrangled the rather persistent Sticking Charm off, his throat suddenly closed up, choking back the wave of emotion that seized him.

“Mum.”

Her green eyes were bright as she blew a kiss to the camera, a football tucked under her arm. As Harry watched, James ran into frame and tried to slap it from her grasp. Lily just laughed and bounced it on her knees, her head, her ankles, her keepie-uppies thwarting his dad every time. Harry watched the photo replay over and over again, his knuckles whitening around the film.

“Harry?”

He jerked his head up, giving Hermione a watery smile. “Sorry, sorry, I just -”

“We know.” Hermione patted his arm, her eyes sympathetic.

Ron peeked over his shoulder at the photo. “Blimey. Looks like you didn’t just get your Quidditch skills from your dad.”

Harry blinked down at the photo, at his mum’s smile. At the football, the well-worn pattern of black-and-white that he knew long before the glint of a Snitch. 

He watched as she tracked the ball, her feet sure, always anticipating it’s change of direction. She looked happy.

Maybe that was what he needed. A change of direction.

“Yeah. Looks like it.”

#my fic #fic: ficlet