Bundeslihaha: Where Fussball Meets Fun

[2015/16] Under the Spotlight

Summary: The Media Days have started! Join the Bundesliga boys and girls as they prepare for the part of the season they wished they could skip! (Posted 16.7.15, edited 17.11.16)

10.6.18: Also known as: Bundeslihaha Redux before it even existed.

***

Whoever's documenting us, SV Darmstadt 98 thought as she reread the address on her phone, must be lazy as fuck...

Somehow, she wasn't surprised at her vocabulary – hanging out (well, arguing) with Karlsruhe, Kaiserslautern and Braunschweig would do that to anyone...

Hmm, speaking of those three, it was unfortunate for such big clubs with rich history to not get promoted, wasn't it? But naaaah, Darmstadt grinned mischievously. She was definitely looking forward to filling the next page of her football fairytale!

  ***  

FC Ingolstadt 04 looked up at his coach slowly. "Papa?" he called, tugging the sleeve of Ralph Hasenhüttl's shirt.

"Yes, Ingolstadt?" Papa asked. His face looked sooo bored, but Ingolstadt knew anyone would be, like really! It seemed like they'd been on this train for years! "Papa, are we there yet?" he whined, secretly hoping that asking would make the trip faster.

"Not yet, Ingolstadt," Papa replied, messing his hair. "No, Papa, don't do that!" he protested, swatting his large hand off his head, "I'm not a kid anymore!" He was already eleven years old, okay? He didn't need a Papa. He wanted to live alone like RB Leipzig, to do whatever and whenever he wanted! Why did the bosses still force him to live with a "father figure"? He's a personification, not a normal kid! Why should he go to a boring school? Why should he be watched while eating? Everyone knew he hated vegetables! Why?!

"Ingolstadt," Papa said, touching his cheek instead, "I'm sorry, okay? You know I like your hair when it's neatly trimmed like this." He chuckled a little. Ingolstadt pouted. "Of course you like it, Papa, you trimmed it yourself!" the boy playfully punched his caretaker, "Why can't I have long hair like Bochum?"

"Bochum?" Papa asked, raising an eyebrow, "His hair is awful. Especially with that hairclip."

The little Bavarian groaned. "But- but I want my hair to touch my shoulders! It's so cool, Papa!" He patted Papa's shoulder for good measure, but all he got was an unconvinced glare. "Fine," he grumbled, "at least I can grow bangs? Like Karlsruhe?"

Papa's eyes were unfocused. Maybe he was picturing his (old, haha!) bully, with his shaggy brown hair.

"He looks like he doesn't have a comb," Papa finally said. Ingolstadt decided to change tactics. In a second, he was staring at his coach with dark eyes as big as saucers, causing Hasenhüttl to wince and changed the topic himself. "Anyway, are you excited for the Media Days?"

Ingolstadt's face brightened that instant. "Of course, Papa! I can't wait to meet the others!" He was jumping on his seat now, earning him annoyed looks from other passengers. "Especially Bayern. She's so... so badass!"

When Ingolstadt realized what he'd just said, his hands comically flew to cover his mouth. "Sorry, Papa," he squeaked.

Now, Ralph Hasenhüttl couldn't bring himself to be harsh to the spoiled, irritating boy that was the physical embodiment of FC Ingolstadt, but he couldn't the child grow up with no manners, either.

"Ingolstadt," Hasenhüttl said, a patronizing hand on the 11-year-old's shoulder, "what did I tell you about bad words?"

The personification sighed, head hung in shame. "I must not say them, Papa,"