Eleven Men

A (very) short story focusing on the final game of the season for a team of 'social' american football players (with so few players that they all play both offense and defence), who have become so used to defeat that they actaully fear losing, but nonetheless find the courage to confront that very fear

I wrote this while watching a particularly dull 6 nations rugby game, perhaps hoping Ireland would emulate the fictional team of the story. The purpose of this is really an excercise and experiment into writing to exact proportions. It's a bit pretensious, but the structure (in words) is exactly 6-6-12, 75-75-150, 75-150-75, 150-75-75, 6-6-12. Having re-read it, I don't actually think the exact proportions make any difference to it, but I'd be interested to hear the thoughts of the few people that read it!