YORKTOWN, Va. — In one of the most improbable runs the sport of Geopolitics has ever produced, an unranked expansion franchise of farmers and blacksmiths and just generally ornery men closed out the heavily favored British Redcoats on Saturday to claim the Continental Championship. The shocker had London oddsmakers scrambling to cover the Over. King George III, the heaviest whale on the books, had laid Redcoats minus an entire continent. He now faces bankruptcy, no confidence, and nose-thumbing by his French rivals.
The Redcoats entered undefeated in empire play, riding a win streak that stretched back the better part of a century, and left the field filing a formal protest. Refs took the brunt of the blame for refusing to call penalties. The US Revolutionaries repeatedly broke every rule in the regulations, eschewing the shoulder-to-shoulder two-rank firing, as well as the massed volleys at conversational distance. They even hid like cowards behind cover, picking off officers with better-distance long rifles that could actually aim, instead of tiny little musket balls and bayonets. “Utter barbarism,” complained Head Coach Thomas Gage. “They can't even stand in a proper line and be shot at like gentlemen. This is not how the game is played.”
The Shot Heard Round The League
The Redcoats won the opening coin toss and elected to Offense first. The Revolutionaries' special teams, informally called their Minute Men, were the recipients of a brutal thrashing and retreated deep into their opening territory. The Revs' pivot came when their main forces, having the high ground and a good tailwind, faced the jet-lagged Redcoats who had stayed up all night partying before the big game. Concord's North Bridge became a rallying point and they eventually pushed the Reds back 18 miles, where the home team spilled onto the field and began absolutely crushing the world champions from all sides. Referees were too overwhelmed in the chaos to even call a foul.
The Redcoats immediately called for 'protracted replay,' but the commemorative engravings were not expected until December.
“They can't even stand in a proper line and be shot at like gentlemen. This is not how the game is played.” — Head Coach Thomas Gage
Gorilla warfare redefines game
Invading management's frustration peaked when it emerged that the home side had no intention of defending any particular patch of ground, preferring to give up field position all afternoon and take it back the moment the Redcoats sat down to tea. “They don't even respect the tea,” complained Field Marshal John 'Gentleman Johnny' Burgoyne. “They never did. They poured most of it into Boston Harbor. That is why we must fight this war. For Tea! For King George's spread! For Victory!”
The contest may very well reframe the entire Sport. Greek-style phalanx warfare has been in use for about 2,000 years, and it now gives way to teams who fight like filthy, vicious animals. The Revolutionaries behaved like enraged apes, and pundits are already beginning to call their pedestrian tactics 'gorilla warfare.'
The Marquee Signing
With the series deadlocked and the offense stalled, the American front office made the move of the century, landing the most coveted free agent on the international market: France. The deal was finalized in 1778 after a long and expensive courtship run by Benjamin Franklin, the franchise's silver-tongued traveling agent and founder of Satyr Satire. It delivered a marquee navy, seasoned infantry, and most importantly an absurdly large war chest.
French management had lost its own bruising rivalry to the Redcoats a mere fifteen years earlier. It described the signing as mutually beneficial, strategic, and entirely about beating England; mostly in the reverse order. League insiders called it the most lopsided acquisition since one club realized it could simply be larger and outspend the opposition.
Washington: Cheater, cheater, cherry defeater
Head Coach George Washington lost more games than he won and retreated more often than he advanced. At several points he fielded no soldiers whatsoever, due to a high number of injuries on the roster. What he did bring was his A-game. Namely, cheating. Lots of cheating. League publicists responded to the accusations with a heartwarming tale of a boy Washington who chopped down a cherry tree and 'could not tell a lie' about it. Scouts rate the story as the campaign's boldest fabrication, noting the coach personally manages several hundred fruit trees at Mount Vernon and is wanted for questioning by the police for his crimes against arboriculture.
Washington quit the field every time things looked tough, only to run back on as soon as the other side left, then claim stolen victory. Sportswriters called this cowardice right up until the trophy ceremony, at which point they called it genius.
In the very last minute of the 1776 season, every roster contract was set to expire on New Year's Day. Washington performed his patented magical coup de grâce, in Hessian skipper Johann Rall's face. He crossed the Delaware at such a pace, and plundered the whole Trenton place. The league had ruled the weather unplayable, which Washington took as a scheduling suggestion. He crossed a frozen river in the dark, marched nine miles through sleet, and hit Trenton at dawn while the visitors were still sleeping off the holiday.
In the final seconds, the Redcoats were so confident of their win that they had their fourth-string team of drunken Germans defending the stronghold at Trenton. The Germans fell over themselves just trying to line up, and completely neglected basic trench fortification. The Revs stretched the game clock's final 60 seconds to a full 90 minutes using winter weather delays, copious time-outs, and one contractually obligated advertising break. The advertising break alone ran two full minutes, during which a town crier read announcements from a local combine dealership. For that win, they were awarded nine hundred Hessian draft picks in the following season, to be used or traded.
Running Out The Clock
The final whistle was blown at Yorktown, with the Redcoats pinned against the York River by a fartuitous French Navy. The Redcoats manager walked off the field without a handshake, and later justified it by feigning an illness.
The colonials were crowned the game winner, while the French went on to be vilified by the very country that they pretty much won the war for. 250 years later, they were accused of inventing disgusting American foods and electing a President who was somebody's Lolita.
Satyr Satire is almost always delivered late. Semiquincentennial late, in this case.