22nd May, 1891 — Padmore Park Pavilion, Quaderash Exhibition Match

“Aha, Zavala!” Yassine declared, smirking the moment he found a face he knew in amongst the standing-room spectators. He had been in the better seats, but had only been met with frowns and tutting from some man’s wife when he’d tossed up the idea of a wager, so he had come to fleece the common people, some of whom he hoped might be more entertaining.

And the quaderash was a little entertaining, for all its oddities, but one could very much tell these women didn’t know what they were doing - even the Magpies as he’d found them, a motley bunch that needed beating into shape, could have done better blindfolded. And the game’s violence was lost here, of course, and frankly the violence had always been a part of the sport’s beauty (incidental spectator death or not).

Well, at least a fellow quidditch player ought to understand that. “I’d ask who you would put your money on, but I fear I already took the only galleon you had to your name,” he professed (in far better English than he’d had last summer), with a smug little smile. He was only poking fun, of course. He liked Zavala. And he was equally happy to take more of the poor fellow’s money, if he liked.

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Esteban Zavala

  

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Esteban never knew what to make of Quaderash but he saw no problem with it. Not all ladies were enthused about playing Quidditch so this seemed a nice alternative for them. He kind of saw it as Quidditch for Uppity Ladies though there were enough differences that he could see it being its own thing. It was a fun bit to spectate, at least. There was always something very sensual about someone on a broom.

Esteban grinned easily enough as the man mentioned the galleon he had won from Esteban. "Your English has improved greatly," he praised, unable to help taking notice. "You underestimate my ability to earn a coin or two. I think both teams are equal in skill so hard to say where I would place a wager, though." As he said this, he had his gaze on a woman in the distance that seemed to be more intent on waving and giggling presumably at her husband somewhere in the stands.

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Set by MJ

“I try,” he said, with a careless shrug that was mostly to suggest he didn’t try that hard, and simply had a natural talent. For languages, in this case, but also for practically everything, if Yassine did say so himself. (And English was worse to learn than French had been, as a child, or Spanish a little later; English sounded a little ugly in the mouth, and many of their words and names were like Gobbledegook to him.)

Like Puddlemere, that was always an unfortunate muddle for the tongue. “Puddlemere pays you that much, hm?” Yassine probed anyway, raising an eyebrow. He was primarily interested to hear whether there was any chance of getting him to play out the end of his career at Montrose instead - even if there was no chance, it didn’t mean he couldn’t push it a little - but he was still otherwise intrigued if Zavala had meant he had some other way of making money on the downlow. (Not that he seemed particularly unscrupulous on the surface, but you never knew.)

“And by equal in skill, you mean - lacking in any, correct?” He joked, as if it was the language he did not understand; though looking at the ladies playing, he was not quite joking.

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"I get paid well enough and of course there's endorsement type things," Esteban said with a shrug. "And of course, there's wagering." A little bit of harmless gambling never hurt anyone and he and this fellow had already partaken together. Even though Esteban had lost that one greatly.

He chuckled as he also glanced at the ladies. "Most of the women who actually play Quidditch seem to find the sport insulting."

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Set by MJ

“It is an insult to the sport,” Yassine said flippantly, less concerned about the women’s opinions and more quidditch as an art form. Good quidditch didn’t need special effects; magical effects only distracted from the pure skill and artistic manoeuvres that could be witnessed from a talented player. He shrugged, though; this was at least funny to watch, in its way.

And Zavala sounded content enough in his current position – paid well enough, he had said though, not well – but Yassine couldn’t resist a little more digging. “Have you always played for Puddlemere?” he inquired.

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Esteban honestly just thought that people needed to get over themselves. Would they react similarly to Quadpot? This was just another new thing inspired from Quidditch. He didn't see the harm in it.

"Yes, since the age of sixteen," Esteban answered with a smile. He would probably go on for coach for the team if the position was open when he eventually retired.

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Set by MJ

Ah, so he was a loyal bugger; roots dug deep into the same team since boyhood, probably the only team he’d ever known. And probably a lost cause, then. “So you are stuck there in the mud forever,” Yassine commented with a laugh, because between the name and the marshy location of their pitch, it certainly sounded that way to him. “I don’t suppose you have ever – considered a change of scene?”

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"I suppose so," he said with a chuckle when the other man said he was stuck in the mud. "I don't think I really have. I might if the offer I was given was good." It wasn't like he hadn't had offers in the past but they had never been quite enough to entice Esteban away from the team he had given his life to.

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Set by MJ

A good offer, hm? If Zavala really meant that, Yassine was honestly surprised – but pleased, too, because even might was more of a chance that he’d expected.

“What do you make of the Magpies, as a team?” he asked casually, as though that topic were worlds away from the conversation they were having. Naturally, they weren’t as entrenched a team as Puddlemere – practically bottom of the league when Yassine had taken them on – and they’d lost their last sponsor, Abbott, only recently, so there was not a great deal of expectation here, nor money being shelled in – but if Yassine could convince the new sponsor to cobble together enough for an offer, a famous name (other than his own, obviously), a star player, could be just the thing to turn the team around.

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The Magpies? They were bottom of the league so honestly he barely spared them much thought. "They've been doing rather poorly. And lost their sponsor at sea so it is uncertain how they will fare in the future," he said honestly after a bit of thought. "The right leadership could potentially turn any team around though." With a National Team coach on their side, they were bound to do a lot better this season.

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Set by MJ

Zavala knew the Magpies’ situation, then. If he had more opinions of their realistic chances, he kept them close to his chest. There was no outright derision towards them – but no overt enthusiasm.

If Yassine didn’t think Zavala the most worthwhile player in the British leagues, he would not be coming after him quite so obviously. But he felt like a direct approach was best. An open-ended offer. Something to get the gears turning, even if he said no today.

“Well, their coaching is well in hand,” Yassine said – with certainty, but without excessive ego. He might boast about everything he ever said or did, but when it came to quidditch – when it came to his coaching abilities – he had the history to prove it. The World Cup win was evidence enough. “But a talented captain would double their chances to get in shape,” he continued, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. “And it would make for a great story.” Zavala would be the talk of the sport – make himself a legend (a legend, hopefully, rather than a traitor) – and everyone liked to witness a team rising from the ashes. “Think you’d be up for that kind of challenge?”

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"You're a little biased, I do believe," Esteban couldn't help but snark with a wink. The mans biased opinion was not without merit, though. "That is perhaps true," he said in agreement when the other man said that a captain would better the Magpies chances.

Ah, the man was provoking the Gryffindor in him. "I could be. I'll give it some thought." It was not a yes but it was also not a no.

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Set by MJ

Of course he was biased; he only snorted back at that, still smirking. He was confident enough of his coaching abilities to let Zavala think what he would; and the conversation was coming along easily enough, so he didn’t think the keeper despised him, at least.

(Would he have bothered to pursue a player who openly seemed to dislike him? Probably, actually. It sounded fun. And the job need not be personal, besides; he was in it for the skill.)

But if he enjoyed Zavala’s company as well, it hardly hurt. In fact, it was all the more reason to get him on his team. “Good. You should,” Yassine affirmed, at the news Zavala would think about it. He raised his eyebrows, half-jokingly. “If there’s anything you can bet on, it’s that I’ll be asking again.” Yassine could be persistent when he wanted to be.

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Esteban chuckled as the man said he should. He supposed he would do so but he wasn't considering the matter all too seriously. Thom Pettigrew had been good to him all these years. It would be quite crass to spit in his face by traipsing over to the Montrose Magpies just because he quite liked their new coach.

"I shall look forward to it. Until next we meet then," he said in Spanish with a cheeky grin before wandering off for other entertainment.

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Set by MJ