Oneshot 57


lazypotatoStudio

America plays football~

(The game didn't happen irl)

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The world meeting was flooded with shouts of hatred. The European nations all tore into each other and even Australia and Brazil were fighting. England, in particular, was livid as he tore into South Africa. Russia and Japan were giving each other the cruelest glares. Germany, Italy, and Romano were trying to hold back France, who was about to tear out Wales' hair. Even the ever calm New Zealand and Canada were glaring at each other. 

America sat there, sipping his large coke. He had expected this to happen.

Why you might ask? Because, dear readers, it was November 3. The day after the Rugby World Cup, where South Africa beat England.

Most nations were upset, but not America. He was too busy looking over gameplans for that night's football game. He was a football player for the Michigan Wolverines, the team that boasted the biggest stadium in the US and the second biggest in the world. They were playing against their biggest rival, Ohio State.

America's focus shifted when England chucked a chair and missed, almost hitting Greece. The sleeping man was unaware of the danger, so America quickly got up and caught the chair midair. Greece awoke after that and most of the nations paused their fights. America sighed and placed the chair down, going back to his own seat to read over more stats.

"Ve~ America, what are you reading?"

"Game stats of my rival team,"

"Rival team?" most asked. America nodded and continued to peacefully read.

"But, aren't you upset about losing?" South Africa questioned. America looked to the group and laughed. Not just a chuckle, but a full-blown hysterical laugh.

"Like I care about some wimps knocking each other around! You want to see real men play sports, y'all should come to my game tonight!"

"Wimpy?!" Britain screeched. America smirked and nodded.

"Yes, Iggy, wimpy. You might think that American Football players are weak because we wear padding. But, that doesn't do much in terms of protection. Sure, it might save us a few broken ribs and shattered collarbones. But, in the end, they simply enable us to tackle as hard and rough as we please. College football ain't a joke eighter. Most students who play college sports have hopes of going pro, so there's no mercy on the field. If you don't give it your all, you're gonna die on that field,"

Most of the nations were stunned at the small rant America gave. But, some also scoffed.

"You stupid git, I bet it isn't that bad. Real men play Rugby,"

"You want to test that theory? Come to the game!"

"Fine! I will! It will only prove my point that American Football is the sport for wimps!"

 "Anybody else wanna come?"

In the end, the group went as followed: Britain, France, Germany, Russia, China, Canada, the Italies, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, and Prussia. The group left the meeting early so Alfred could get to practice. The carpool was quiet, something Alfred enjoyed. It let him get in the zone before the big game. When he pulled into the stadium and parked, he escorted the nations inside.

It...was...HUGE

(Here are some pictures)

"Mein Gott! Zis is awesome! How many people come to zese thing?!" Prussia exclaimed.

"Since our game is against our biggest rival, tonight, every single seat will be filled," America sat them in the first row, "I always buy out some seats in case people wanna come but can't afford to, so you all should be good. I'm going to go change, feel free to watch my teammates practice!" the group nodded and looked at the team.

The players were ripped, their muscles bulging and sculpted. Many of them were running while dragging a tire, working on their endurance. A few were practicing their tackles with large equipment, moving the heavy contraptions with complete ease.

"Aiya, these men are more muscular than any of our Rugby players, aru," China observed. Russia nodded and crossed his arms.

"It makes me worried for our little Amerika. Surely, the other team is built the same way, da?"

"Oui, I 'ave to agree. I zink Alfred might be in trouble," France worriedly finished.

"Speak of the devil, look, eh!" Canada pointed to Alfred, who was now in a tank with sweatpants and sneakers. The nations were stunned when they saw how muscular Alfred was.

"Ve~ America is hot!" Italy shouted. Germany instantly pulled him down.

"Jou don't say zings like zat so loudly!"

"Mi Fratello is right, he's pretty handsome," Romano smirked as he watched America practice. Many of the nations, aside from New Zealand, were drooling. After the practice was over, the team went to prepare in the locker rooms.

People began to fill the stadium, a family sitting behind the nations.

"I haven't seen you, folks, before! You guys Michigan fans?" the mother asked with a smile. She was holding an infant and had a hat with a large 'M' on it.

"Werr, our friend invited us. So whatever team he is on,"

"Who's ya friend?" the father asked as he got a pair of twins set in their seats.

"Alfred Jones," New Zealand answered with a small smile.

"You know the Tank?! That's awesome!" the little boy shouted, his sister nodding.

"The Tank?" Britain asked.

"Yea, Jones' nickname is 'Tank' since he's near impossible to tackle. He's quicker than a bullet and stronger than a tank. Soon enough, people just called him Tank," the lady explained, "I'm Gina, by the way. This is my husband, Roy. My little twins, Jada and Trevor. And this little one is my newest, Kira,"

"Pleased to meet you all!" after some more introductions, the crew explained why they were there. It gave Roy a good ol' laugh.

"You Brits don't even know the half of it. Those pads don't do squat on that field. Look at the facts here, an average football player weighs no less than 180 pounds. Which is roughly 81 kilograms. They're running at you at 22 miles an hour, or around 34 kilometers. The momentum from a tackle is comparable to being hit by a semi-truck or train,"

The nations paled at the idea of their little Alfred playing such a violent game. That's when they noticed how much the stadium had filled while they were talking to the family. Alfred was right, it was filled with yellow flags. A bunch of horns went off, making the crowd cheer as their team took the field. The nations noticed that Alfred's number was 50 and his last name was on top of the jersey number. The crowd booed as a team garbed in red took the field. 

The nations watched as Alfred and some other guy from the other team stood in front of each other, both smirking.

"Heads or tails?"

"Tails," the one in red said. The ref flipped the coin and Britain noticed how Alfred's eyes flashed a glow, it was so fast the Brit was surprised he caught it. He then smirked and realized that Alfred just spelled the coin, forcing it to heads.

"Cheeky bastard," Britain mumbled.

"What was zat, Arthur?" France asked, making England waved his hand.

"Nothing, don't mind me," the players got into positions and the game began. The nations watched as Alfred threw the ball thirty yards to another player, who was about to run before he was tackled by a gun nearly twice his size. The nations cringed as play by play, more players were being tackled with no mercy. Roy handed the group of nations a bag.

"Pick a hat, any hat fellas," he smiled, "y'all stick out with no merchandise. I get twenty percent off at the shop and each one is different!" each nation said their 'thank you's' as they each took a different styled cap. The crowd got even rowdier when Alfred scored a touchdown, causing Prussia, Australia, and Canada to jump up and cheer.

"ZAT'S MEIN AWESOME BEST FRIEND!!!"

"THAT'S MY BABY BROTHER!!!"

"THAT'S MY TWIN!!!"

The nations shouted with joy as most of the crowd went crazy. The next play began, this time the Ohio team had the ball. Alfred went to the sidelines and to his friends.

"Y'all enjoy the game?" he then noticed all of them had on caps, "where did you guys get those?"

"Me!" Roy fangirled and waved his arms around. Alfred looked up and smiled at the family, he noticed how the little girl had one of the bright yellow caps.

"Ya know, you did me solid. Would you guys like me to sign anything?" Alfred smiled, making a few college girls squeal from behind the family.

"You can sign something for me, Alfie~" the nations looked back and saw two VERY attractive girl winking. Alfred signed the family's caps and huffed as the girls came up and began to lift their shirts. Alfred quickly stopped them by tugging their hands back down.

"I am not signing boobs, so don't even go there. Also, everyone on campus knows I prefer guys. If you want me to sign your jerseys, that's fine," Alfred signed the jerseys over the chest area, his blush knowing no bounds. When the girl ran off, the rest of the nations chuckled at his beet-red face, "not...a...word..." the crowd cheered as Alfred's team intercepted the ball and ran, getting another touchdown. Alfred waved to the nations and went back onto the field.

Alfred's team had settled on Alfred running for the touchdown, so he did. Well, almost. Just as Alfred was about to score, an elephant of a man knocked the wind out of him. The Ohio player slammed him to the ground with such a force, Alfred's helmet went flying.  A resounding gasp came from everybody in the stadium as Alfred stayed down. The refs blew the whistles, making everybody stand up. The nations were mortified when Alfred was put on a stretcher and wheeled off. Canada instantly ran to his little brother, the team letting him in.

A moment later, the crowd cheered when Alfred stepped onto the field again. What they didn't know wasn't Alfred, it was Matthew. His eyes were filled with fury as he approached the huddle. The nations recognized the difference and Russia shook his head.

"He has the hockey eyes, da?"

"Ja, meaning ze other team is about to get pounded,"

Anytime Matthew was on the field, he made it his duty to take out as many Ohio players as possible. While quarterbacks were not known to tackle, anytime he ran with the ball he would nonchalantly elbow players. You would need an eagle eye to spot it, but Canada's dodges made sure nobody could see.

At the end of the game, Michigan won 24-18. When the team went into the locker room, they were surprised to see Alfred still laying there. He was asleep and probably had been for the whole game. When Matthew took off the helmet, he smirked to the players.

"Our little secret, kay?" Matthew quickly took off the uniform and laid it where it was. The team all chuckled and shrugged, all of them getting changed as well. When the locker room was empty, Matt gently woke Alfred up.

"Mattie? Did we win?" Canada nodded and helped Alfred bath so he could get dressed. The nations were in the parking lot, waiting for the twins. When they finally walked out, Britain, New Zealand, Japan, and Prussia tackled him to the ground and began to apologize. Matthew pried the others off his brother and all of them went to eat.

Britain hated to admit it, as did many of the other nations. But, America was right about American Football.

Even with all those pads that many Europeans saw as buffers, American Football is a gritty sport.

And the players were sure as hell were not wimps.

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