The seven ages of Dwarf coaches

Posted by Wulfyn on 24th November 2019

This poem by our resident Dwarf-hater Bob Kitchen, is an ode to the seven styles of Dwarf player that he encounters. Please note his biased position, and that this is a parody article meant for fun. And Dwarf hating.


All the world’s a Dwarf,
And all the men and women merely Coaches;
They have their Losses and their wins,
And one coach in his time plays many teams,
His acts being seven ages.
At first Happy,
punching and trundling in his armour 9;

And then the whining Bashful, with his deathroller
And shining mighty blow, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to 
score. And then Dopey,

Cackling like a loon, with a woeful pass
Made to his creeping blitzer.
 Then a Doc,

Min Maxing like a beast, and powergaming for the win,
Jealous of the guard, always choosing Mighty Blow,
Seeking the perfect team
Even in the face of claw. And then the Sleepy,
In soporific torpor, phoning in the turns,
With eyes closing and crying into beard,
Full of probilities and bemoaning the unlucky skull;
And so he plays his part.
 The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slippered Sneezy,
With spectacles on nose and dice on side;
His youthful hope, well saved, a team too dull
For his shrunk attention;
 and his protestations of interest,
Turning to dust on his tongue
And whistles in his sound.
 Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,

Is Grumpy and abandonment of Dwarves,
Sans skill, sans fun, sans interest, sans everything.




As can be seen the Bard had a perfect understanding of playing dwarves. First you are Happy. You have block, you have AV9 AND thick skull, nobody can hurt you. You play and lose and win play again as your team develops and never dies.

Then Bashful, Get Guard, get Mighty Blow. Your dwarf is done. Go out there and KILL. Always take a deathroller KILL ALL MENZ wining is for LOSERS, it is all in the cas count.

Then Dopey, this is dull. Of course you can play them interestingly. You pass the ball, you give your blitzers Leap, see it is fun. You lose a lot, you are an idiot.

Then Doc. Keep the TV low. Everybody gets the optimal skills. Guard, Mighty blow, pile on in tournaments, cage, bash, 8 turn drive is king. You only lose because the opponent was lucky. There is a perfect game, you will find it.

Then Sleepy. Even you are bored by this point, but you must continue. The perfect game will be found. You and you alone will find a way to make these unkillable cockroaches fun! People will remember your name, but Jesus you are bored.

Then Sneezy, The perfect team is a myth, the years you have spent on this team are years wasted, you look at them and want to scream. But still you play on. The Lost cost fallacy keeps you there, one day you will find your way back to the love of this team of tedious bearded twats.

Finally you are Grumpy. You realise that there are no depths to this team. You see that “yes but they are slow” is just an excuse. You have remained in the shallow end of the game, you have never taken the training wheels off and learned how to ride that bike. It is time for a new team.

And so you leave the dwarf behind.