This week’s tale takes us to the quaint town of Bumpton. Here lived a girl named Esmerelda. Esmerelda wasn't your ordinary girl; she had an obsession, a passion that consumed her every waking moment - Bumpton Rovers, the local football team. Now, you might wonder what's so special about this football team? Well, let me tell you, they hadn't won a match in ten years!

Yes, Bumpton Rovers once were as high as the Third Division South but after the most spectacular fall in football history found themselves sloshing around at the bottom of the Bobs Bargain Bin Northwest Durham league. Their players a mixture of lads who couldn’t make the school team, a fifty-year-old butcher, Paul Fillet, who looked as though he really enjoyed his pies and a half blind arthritic docker called Pete Goals. The Eagles no longer looked like a soaring bird of prey more like a manky sparrow left out in the cold.

Esmerelda, with her unruly mop of hair and an ever-present Rovers jersey, was the epitome of dedication though. She'd cheer them on from the sidelines, attend every match without fail, and even had a shrine dedicated to the team in her living room. Her friends often joked that she cared more about Rovers than her own well-being.

"Come on, Bumpton Rovers! This is our year!" Esmerelda would shout at the pitch, her voice a mix of desperation and unwavering hope. Despite the constant disappointment and ridicule from her friends, Esmerelda refused to give up on her beloved team. She believed in them with a fervour that bordered on insanity.

One fateful day, as Esmerelda was walking down the street wearing her Rovers scarf like a badge of honour, she stumbled upon a peculiar sight. There, sitting on a bench, was a boy with a glum expression, wearing a faded Bumpton Rovers cap. Esmerelda's eyes widened in disbelief. Could it be? Another die-hard Rovers fan in Bumpton. Without hesitation, Esmerelda approached the boy and struck up a conversation. As it turned out, the boy's name was Harold, and he’d been following Bumpton Rovers for even longer than Esmerelda.

"Ten years without a win," Harold mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. "But mark my words, Esmerelda, one day they'll turn it around. We just have to keep the faith."

Esmerelda felt a surge of excitement coursing through her veins. Finally, someone who understood her unwavering loyalty to Bumpton Rovers!

From that day on, Esmerelda and Harold became inseparable. They would meet up before every match, analysing the team's strategy with the intensity of seasoned coaches. They'd chant and cheer from the stands, their voices rising above the crowd in a symphony of hope and determination. But alas, no matter how hard they cheered, victory remained elusive for Bumpton Rovers. Their losing streak seemed to stretch on indefinitely, much to the dismay of Esmerelda and Harold.

Determined to break the curse, Esmerelda decided to take matters into his own hands. She embarked on a quest to uncover the secrets of Bumpton Rovers' misfortune, scouring old newspaper clippings and interviewing former players in his relentless pursuit of the truth.

"What if it's the curse of the mascot?" Esmerelda pondered one day, her brow furrowed in deep concentration.

Harold raised an eyebrow, Roger Moore style, "The curse of the mascot? You can't be serious, Esmerelda."

But Esmerelda was undeterred. She enlisted Harold's help in tracking down the original Bumpton Rovers mascot, a grizzled old bloke named Bertie who had mysteriously disappeared ten years ago. Their search took them to the outskirts of town, where they found Bertie living in a rundown shack surrounded by a menagerie of animals.

"Bertie, we need your help," Esmerelda declared, her eyes burning with determination. "We believe that the curse of Bumpton Rovers lies with the mascot, and only you can lift it."

Bertie regarded them with a sceptical eye, but something in Esmerelda's earnest expression convinced him to listen.

“We think that the reason we haven’t won is that the Bumpton Eagle hasn’t led the team out each week. Will you come back and help us?”

The next week Bertie, wearing his wings once more led the team out for the first time in ten years. The stunned crowd of five kids, and a man with his whippet, stood with mouths open as Bernie raised his wings and did the famous Bumpton Wave. Esmerelda and Harold watched with bated breath as Bumpton Rovers took to the field. The tension was palpable, the air crackling with electricity. Rovers began to play with a newfound vigour, their passes crisper, their shots more accurate. Victory was finally within their grasp.

And then, it happened. In the dying moments of the game, with the score tied at 1-1, aging striker, Pete Goals scored a miraculous goal, sending the crowd into a frenzy of jubilation.

Esmerelda and Harold embraced, tears of joy streaming down their faces. They had done it. They had broken the curse of Bumpton Rovers.

From that day on, Rovers went on to become the most successful team in the league, winning match after match with ease. And so, as they stood proudly in the stands, cheering on their beloved team, Esmerelda and Harold knew that no matter what trials and tribulations lay ahead, they would always have each other, and they would always have Bumpton Rovers.

(From a writing prompt about love)