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Literally the Only Part Yikes

The team in the imperial red strode out onto the oblong field, under three staggering goal posts, carrying their brooms like mighty staffs, ready to begin the first game of the year. The multicolored stands surrounding them were filled with nameless faces, their scarves flying like a patchwork of quilt colors. The opposing team sauntered onto the field, brooms in hand, their forsst green robes fluttering around them. The cheers in the stands seemed to die down almost immediately; the hatred for the green shrouded team was obvious and universal.

The red clad teams captain seemed to be standing in front of the rest of the group, his stature strong. He had emerald green eyes, messy black hair, finely tanned skin, and a peculiar lightning shaped scar on his forehead. Despite the menacing glares he received from the other teams, he stood with pride in his stance, and a confident gleam in his eyes.

The captain of the team dressed in dark green stood with a sneer that almost appeared to be embedded in his facial muscles. He had pale skin, hair as blonde as bleach, and cold silver eyes. His posture was prim and stiff. He spoke, almost as if he were joking,
"Scared, Potter?"

The whistle blew and the game began.

UPDATE OK SOMEONE READ THIS??? WHAT?? WHY?