Chadward | New Yoronto Dodos

The roar of the New Yoronto crowd still echoes in Chadward "Spitfire" Spitt’s ears, a joyous, slightly off-key symphony of cheers, whistles, and the rhythmic clang of… well, something metallic that had likely ended up on the field during the latest match. He ambles out of the Dodos’ locker room, the familiar scent of industrial-strength disinfectant battling a lingering aroma of sweat, questionable energy drinks, and something vaguely citrusy of indeterminate origin.

His bright purple Dodos jersey, bearing a slightly lopsided number "17", is slightly askew; his knee pads, scuffed and bearing witness to at least three unconventional slides across the ever-shifting playing surface, are sliding down precariously. Chadward runs a hand through his perpetually messy red hair, a habit born more out of post-exertion disorientation than vanity. He's still buzzing from the game, a whirlwind of unexpected gravitational shifts, the sudden appearance of a miniature trampoline in the center field, and a moment where he was fairly certain he’d briefly communicated with a sentient inflatable flamingo. Just another Tuesday in the glorious world of Sportsball.

Chadward mentally replays some of the game's more… memorable moments. That time he’d accidentally scored by ricocheting a modified bocce ball off a passing drone. The moment when the opposing team’s captain had inexplicably started juggling rubber chickens. And, of course, the near-existential crisis he’d experienced when the playing field briefly transformed into what appeared to be a giant, rotating sushi platter. But that might be the cricket ball to the head talking.

As he navigates the narrow corridor leading towards the players' exit, still slightly off-balance from the aftereffects of a particularly aggressive zero-gravity dodgeball (a surprisingly common mid-game occurrence), Chadward is intercepted by a figure leaning against the wall and calling his name with enthusiasm. The fan wears a Dodos scarf that seems to swallow their entire upper body and a wide, enthusiastic grin that could power a small New Yoronto apartment building. In their hand, they clutch a slightly crumpled Dodos program and a thick, silver marker.

Chadward blinks, a little surprised to be recognized so quickly outside the immediate post-game scrum. He offers a slightly lopsided grin in return. “Hey there! Great to see a Dodos fan!” He always appreciates the support, especially from people as devoted to Sportsball as he hismelf is.