[Nogrod]

The Arda Kicker Magazine's (AKM) special reporter Hunter U. Nogson is back with an interview once again. This time to open up the web of deals behind the curtains as to how players move to different teams and how the money changes hands.

Let this be an pre-taste for all those thriving to win the phantasy-tournament - it will be fun indeed! Aka. all this has really happened in a set of nerve-wrecking negotiations, daring and decision-making.

--------------


The AKM / Hunter U. Nogson


The kitchens of Rivendell were treating us quite nicely serving some local river mussels cooked in Bree-ale with Mirkwood herbs and fresh radishes from Arnor as appetizers – alongside a light sparkling wine from Dol Amroth and fried salty cheese from Gondor. The palate was interestingly close and homey even if the ingredients came from so far away from each other. If I were a restaurant critic I would give it a 9/10.

Nogrod seemed less impressed with the first course, like it was his daily staple – well, like it was nowadays.

“It’s good, yeah… okay”, he managed to compliment the artistry of the kitchens after I begged him for an opinion.

This guy has played in all the Arda Cups as a forward in the odd and secretive Tol-In-Gaurhoth being one of the real backbones of the team. Now he was sitting in front of me signed in to play for Eriador as a midfielder for 6 million. And I was thinking about what it was he was thinking – and what kind of process is the signing up competition between teams and players, what is the intrigue, how are the secret negotiations, who has the leverage, who pulls the strings… The key to my questions was emptying his glass of fine Dol Amrothian wine and burped in front of me. He wiped his mouth clean and apologized in a way I was not sure whether it was mocking my attention to his behaviour or something half-sincere.

“Well”, I started, after pouring us liberal portions of pretty expensive Dorwinionian Red to our glasses after the first course. “What made you to go for the open player-markets, were you dissatisfied with your team?”

He gave me a displeased look but then just shrugged. Toying with the glass in his hands he replied: “Maybe I had played in a same team for too long without any major success – and in a team that I saw was going rather down than up – and I think the AFA decision to not let us all play as werewolves - and how it ended up for us the last season – was the deciding factor here. And surely, I only hired an agent to begin with, just to make some enquieries…”

“So there was something that changed matters along the way?”, I put in inquisitively.

“Well yes,” he snapped back immediately taking a long sip on it. “Immediately after they heard in the T-I-G that I had been making enquiries it seemed there were whispers from some wanna-be werewolves – I’m not pointing out at anyone especially here, let’s be careful about this – and interestingly enough the T-I-G team was only offering me a deal of 5 million, half of my last year’s revenue – in the midfield!”

Here Nogrod slammed his glass to the table clearly agitated. I nodded to him calmly and refilled his glass with the Dorwinionian Red. “And that did it for you?” I asked as lightly as I could.

“Yeah. That did it.” Nogrod said and took a deep sip from the refilled glass. “After that there was no going back. I was a free agent then, for real.”

At this point the elven waitresses were bringing in the main course: smoked halibut with fennel and wild rice, and several kinds of jams and fresh greens on separate plates accompanied by a load of fresh white bread. The almost empty carafe of Dorwinionian Red was changed into a full bottle of cold Ithilien White.

“I’m much interested… What were your initial goals or ideas about where to play and with what kind of a deal?”

The halibut was just heavenly, and the roasted nuts and sesame seeds on top of it just made one fly… not to speak of the bitterness and the sting of the jams complimenting the mellow taste of the fish itself. Say what you wish, but they do know how to make exquisite dishes in Rivendell. And it seemed to soften Nogrod as well to speak his mind.

“Funnily enough,” he began, “my first ideas were to try and sign in to… Well, Sauron’s team – as I thought I could play as a werewolf with him and I think we had a good connection a few seasons back when he played with us. Secondly I thought that with my name I could take a starring role in the dwarven team who are a formidable group but really lack goal-scoring power. Thirdly there were rumours that the Barrow Downs team would be seeing a total turn-over and maybe even the Barrow-Wight himself would be gathering a team around him – so I was naturally interested in that as well. So how fun is that? None of those teams ended up in my last shortlists for signing up…”

“So what made it then?” I asked trying to hold my enthusiasm for what was to come.

“Well, after hearing the initial reports from different teams and especially that of the T-I-G – I felt like doing some soul-searching: Sauron was trying to cut costs like last year while having clear plans I didn’t seem to fit into the way I liked, the dwarves were reserved becaue they are racists – sorry to say that - , and the thing around the Barrow Downs was even messier it was in the beginning... And the fact is that I have played many seasons as a pro and it is not money I need – and neither was it continuity because of the back-stabbing from my own team.”

Scrapping the juices from the plate with a piece of bread Nogrod wiped his mouth with the cloth provided. After pouring himself a new glass of Ithilien White he turned his gaze back to me again.

“So I gave my agent new instructions and asked him to have an open mind about the teams… “ It was the first time during the interview that Nogrod actually smiled heartily. “God bless the guy. He’s good indeed”, he went on and nodded to the waiter who cleaned our table.

“So what was it you were after then and how did it come about you ended up with the team Eriador? I mean it looks like a bit stretch from what you have been talking about thus far”, I asked feeling we were finally getting somewhere unwounding the web of transfers in the Arda Cup.

“Well I did give my agent three points he should pay heed to when going widely round and about looking for places for me to play… firstly I wanted to play in a team where I could seriously contend for the Cup. Secondly I wanted to play in a team that was exciting – to learn and play an exciting game. And thirdly to play in team that gave me enough responsibility; a chance to shine if you wish to put it that way – I have my career to mind anyway…”

The waiters were bringing in the desserts: fresh berries soaked in liquor on top of some exquisite ice cream and sherry from Lake Town. And a nice kettle of double-espresso. It was heavenly.

“And guess what?”, Nogrod suddenly asked me before touching the dessert. “With all the nice feelings I had gathered after the initial disappointment with my former team I heard from the T-I-G that they were about to sign Thuringwethil and Draugluin with some nice deals! Wouldn’t that have been the team I would have loved to play as a werewolf! And they mockingly yet offered me a deal of 5 million as a midfielder!”

This time Nogrod did not bang his glass on the table but just set it there. But this clearly was an issue he took personally.

“There was a distrust there too wide to be overcome with myself and my former team… even if they had given me the best offer in terms of pay any other team had made. So anyone there willing to change teams, be prepared that your exchange-value might be half the amount you have been payed thus far… at least before you start to negotiate for real.”

“But you ended up with quite interesting negotiations, isn’t that true?”, I put in. “I understand that when the draft-season gets closing it’s not only the players but also the teams who need to play their cards more openly to get a squad they think they need to succeed in the Arda Cup?”

“You bet… that was interesting indeed. I was approached by multiple teams but let me stay with the interesting ones. First of all, Fëanor’s assistant from AC Beleriand contacted my agent to ask if I’d like to play for them for 3 million as a center-back. Dwarves United offered me the same salary for playing defensive midfielder – not trusting me enough to play in a more foreward position I gathered – and Eriador offered me 5 millions for filling the same place. And to top it Sauron was willing to pay me 7 million as a werewolf-defender in the middle of a wizard defence – and a 4 million deal to play midfield as a wight… But yes, that was just the starters and only a few teams negotiated with.”

“How did it go then?” I blurted quite forgetting my role as a critical journalist captivated by the story. “Who did you deny and how did you made it to 6 million for the Eriador?”

It was time for Nogrod to smile widely – a second helping of sherry did seem to help that though.

“I got some interesting offers along the way but on top of those I have already mentioned, I turned down fex. those of Shire-Bree, Anfaughlith, Anduin and Arnor… So it kind of left me with the consideration between Sauron’s Barad-Dûr, AC Beleriand and Eriador. Basically Arnor, Anduin and Barad-Dûr were giving me the best offers (5-8 millions), but I was slowly turning towards the chance to play for the Cup and thusly for either AC Beleriand (4-5 mill.) or Eriador (5-6 mill.) – I do have my doubts on how Sauron is playing this meta-game… even if playing a a werewolf would have answered some of my deepest cravings.”

With that Nogrod sighed and orderd a rhum and cola. I did the same and looked at him trying to be able to form the last fruitful question while picking the grapes that had been brought to our table overlooking the river-valley of Rivendell.

“So how did you come to your decision in the end? And was it worth all the effort?” I finally made, half disappointed over the question with no real edge.

“Well, it was finally between AC Beleriand and Eriador… Playing with Fëanor… well that would be a dream of anyone fulfilled, but I would have been a stranger there and they already had a four-player offence ready and practised which would mean I would be in a secondary role by definition, so an outsider also by the team-tactics; someone to fill a gap cheaply. In Eriador I have a better role in the midfield where there is only one striker, Isildur. Also playing with the team of Elrond means it is going to be a team to go far in the tournament – and sure Eriador is my neighbourhood as well so I feel a lot more at home there than I would have felt with the heroes of the first age elves.”

With that Nogrod emptied his glass and nodded to get up from his seat.
“Was it a good idea to change teams?”, I managed to ask him before he turned around.

“Well, it was an experience, a kind of a rollercoaster –ride that ended up well… or so I think of it as now. I’m looking forwards to play against the T-I-G team this year – and beating them. But it might have ended differently.” Suddenly Nogrod halted. “I mean, things are easy when you just go with the flow, but when you’re yourself responsible for what you are and where you are, well, that’s another matter entirely.”

With that he left the table. I didn’t have the story revealing all the intrigues of the player-transfers or of the financial moves behind the surface… but I had a partial story of one player, of one person inside this industry of professional football.

And I had eaten well in Rivendell. Valar be blessed.