Coach Hurlock swept his eyes over his team.
What a bunch of disgusting pigs he
thought.
Quite literally disgusting pigs; they
were the Space Hogs F squad and their sense of personal hygiene had
long since abandoned them after deciding it couldn’t put up with
the smell. Coach Hurlock was not of the hog persuasion, he came from
Jetpack City. It was a quite a radical new thing in the game of
Slamjet, inter-region coaches. No longer did the team coach need to
be from the same city, planet or species as the team.
Officially this had been done to
encourage a new spawn of tactical thinking and to encourage
strategies more in depth than
I’ll-try-and-knock-that-guys-teeth-out-and-maybe-score-a-goal.
Unofficially, however, this had been
done to build a better network of people involved in the sport and
make it easier for things like bribery and match fixing.
In practice what was happening was that
coaches were being kidnapped, tortured for information about the
opposition and ransomed back.

