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Week of April 13-19, 1987Easter Holiday: On CampusGryffindor vs. Hufflepuff:March 15
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Member Since: 11/25/08
Feb 23 12 10:58 AM
Max Westbrook Hufflepuff 1986 Book Binder and Tinkerer Believe in Possibility
Highly Strung
Once in the locker room, Max sank onto a bench in a miserable sulk. This match was just unbelievable. He was mostly introspective, berating himself for being so stupid, so he wasn’t paying much attention to his teammates. Sioni’s voice nearby got his attention, and he looked up, startled, at his compliment. The captain was proud of him? Even though he made a wrong goal? Well. Max was so sure that everyone would be angry with him and shun him and just hate him, but… maybe they weren’t all that fussed.
Sure, the general atmosphere wasn’t great, but it wasn’t as hopeless as he had anticipated in his sulky mood. In fact, Sioni’s speech was quite heartening, and Max actually felt loads better after hearing his conviction. Not amazing—the mistake was still in the back of his mind—but it wasn’t an all-consuming angst like it could have been. He decided that he was going to get a sandwich. There were people stretching all over, so he had to weave his way in between the arms and legs that were flung out into his path. Once the sandwich was in his hand, he realized that he was starving, so after scarfing that one down, he had another. And another. Andddd another one after that.
With a full stomach, he wound his way back to his place on the bench, almost getting whacked in the face by a rogue elbow. The rest of the team had the right idea. His muscles were completely stiff. He did some twisty stretches and some shoulder rolls, but his problem was mostly all along his back, from sitting hunched over his broom for so long. It felt like he would be stuck like that forever if he didn’t get it all unkinked immediately. Still seated on the bench, he bent over backward and arched his spine up into a back bend.
Oh, yes. That was it. He could feel all of his back muscles extending and stretching and unwinding from the tight coils they had tightened into during the first part of he match. Ohhh. He kind of wanted to kick up into a handstand and stretch his legs out, too, but he figured that wasn’t a good plan in such close quarters. He’d probably kick someone in the face, and then they really would never forgive him. Regretfully, he pulled back up the normal way and watched the rest of his teammates finish up the stretching and refueling.
“Hopefully not much longer,” he said, in response to Shane’s question. “I’d rather just get back out there and finish up than sit around in here…” At least once the match was over, he’d know whether to celebrate or be disappointed. No, that was not the way to think. The captain was right. They were Hufflepuffs. They would be celebrating. But… he’d rather like to get on with it. Max didn’t like this waiting around.
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