/his/ History

Return to the main page

2016 Spring Campaign

Founded in Fall 2015, /his/ had their first official match in the 2016 Spring Fetus against the shitposters of /v/. The /v/irgins struck first as a blue hedgehog flew across the field, but >HRE rallied the /his/torians just before the half to tie the game. Then, in a moment of pure spaghetti, the /int/ manager went too far with his meme tactics and sent /v/ into disarray, which gave >HRE a hat-trick and Bismarck a goal of his own. First match, first hat-trick, first win, 4-1 /his/.

/his/ would also deliver a 4-1 shellacking to /co/, but fall to /toy/ in a disappointing 1-3 loss. In spite of failing to master-race Group B, /his/ would still qualify for the Spring Babby as the second best team in the Fetus.

In the Babby Cup, /his/ first faced /lit/ in Group C, where a floundering defense gave up 5 goals before the half. The resolute >HRE refused to give up, however, and proceeded to go on a scoring rampage of 5 goals in 29 minutes. Two miscues from Bismarck and Mosley denied /his/ an equalizer, but the team had turned a 0-5 game into a 5-6 loss.

Scoring was not as plentiful in the match against /o/, where /his/ would be shutout in a 0-1 loss. Fighting to prevent relegation back to the Fetus, /his/ gave it their all against /cm/ for a 3-2 win, cementing a spot in the Autumn Babby Cup.

2016 Autumn Campaign

/his/ kicked off against Seventh Founding compatriot /p/, with >HRE off to a quick start with a goal in the eighth minute. /p/ would score shortly thereafter, and the teams engaged in an intense back-and-forth before >HRE could find the goal again in the thirty-first minute. Confident they would be going into the half with a 2-1 lead, /his/ was stunned when the referee let /p/ play on past extra time, allowing them to equalize and bring the score to 2-2. The goal killed /his/'s momentum for much of the second half, letting /p/ score two unanswered goals. With substitutions, /his/ attempted a late game rally led by a Napoleon goal, but Julius Caesar, once again unable to hide his autism seen in the high-scoring /his/-/lit/ match, threw a saved ball to /p/'s lead attacker, allowing an easy goal. /his/ would be unable to recover, and scored 2 consolation goals to come away with a 4-5 loss.

In the next match /his/ played against /int/, Spurdo Sparde made a breakaway, outmaneuvering the /his/ defense lines to score at the 7th minute. With /his/torian spirits lowered, the game became bogged down in the midfield, with neither of the teams able to move deeply into attacking opportunities until the break. In the second half, >Holy>Roman>Empire - subject to a berating on the Nature of Man by Crocodile - equalized the score. As the match's end drew near, signs of fatigue began to show among the /int/ players - Remove Kebab recieved a yellow card for shirtfronting someone who asked a question about religious history in the Balkans, and Proofs? scored a cherry-red ticket to the bench for an egregious personal foul on Bismarck, who questioned whether or not the Balkans were (quote verbatim), "Rightful Russian Clay". In the end the game ended in a draw.

"UNGHGHNGNUNGHGHGN" -- King Charles II of Spain, shortly before sentencing Crocodile to the Gulag

The /his/ command has realized that their situation was dire. They needed a win against /wg/ in order to advance or be sent to yet another Fetus. The Divine Emperor of /his/, Charles II of Spain, had taken record of the team's progress, and punishment akin to the Iraqi National Football Team was levelled against the players.

The battle against /wg/ began in solemn earnest two days later. The defense held well until the end of the 1st half on the 44th minute, when Cunt Destroyer jostled defenders offside to plant a mighty goal between the fumbling legs of Julius Caesar. Prospects of winning diminished further when Cunt Destroyer scored again at the 58th, and already sore wounds were made deeper when Jeff Goldblum scored at the 78 minute to seal the deal.

It was over. /his/ ended the Autumn Cup in last place in the group, and would be banished to the 2017 4chan Spring Babby Cup Qualifiers. Crocodile was tried for treason along with Julius Ceaser and sentenced to ten years in the /pol/-bait-thread gulag; only one of them would return.

RIP CROCODILE
"What the fuck was his problem, /his/?"
1889-1945

2017 Spring Campaign

Regaining lost territory
Their first match since being soundly defeated in the Autumn Babby Cup of 2016, /his/ had much to prove against the dastardly gays, /lgbt/. In the first half Bismark showcased his superior Prussian skills by scoring 2 goals at the 21st and 30th minutes. In the second half, the legbutts regained substantial ground, scoring 2 goals. All seemed uncertain until >Holy>Roman>Empire punched through the enemy lines and scored, securing /his/'s first win.

The second match against /wsg/ began in much the same way. In the first half >Holy>Roman>Empire scored a goal early, but after that no advances could be made on the /wsg/ defensive line. In the second half, /his/ held their ground from a series of blazing offensive maneuvers, and in the end the dynamic French duo of >Holy>Roman>Empire and Napoleon took a goal apiece to end the match 3-0, a clean sheet game for /his/.

Morale was running high, and after two successive wins, the team was prepared for the last match against the fa/tg/uys of /tg/. The battle, far from being similar to previous /his/ matches, was absent of any early blitzing scores. /tg/'s defensive line was impervious any kind of attack, and to complicate matters Los Tiburon found and exploited the weakness in /his/ defense, scoring at the 21st minute. The /his/torians pushed hard in the midfield to equalize, but they couldn't break the deadlock until >Holy>Roman>Empire saved /his/ from an unceremonious defeat at the hands of the neckbeards at the 89th minute. The battle ended in a stalemate.

Gaining new ground

Rare archival photo of the match versus /mlp/.

/his/ Command was shocked when they were drawn in to fight against the two time Elite cup winner /mlp/, so preparations were made to hold the onslaught. Hay was distributed among the men, as well as little carrots on sticks with which to tempt the horses. The battle started and the /his/torians appeared to be making good on their defensive preparations - this, in conjunction with a piercing goal by >Holy>Roman>Empire scored at the 12th minute, gave the /his/torians the faintest taste of a dream come true.

The line held throughout the majority of the match, with excellent defensive work from both sides leaving the match scoreless until >Holy>Roman>Empire struck again at the 71st minute. The horsefuckers, headed by >Rape, were able to score once, but it wasn't enough - the battle ended with a score of 2-1. /his/'s legionaries had claimed their most glorious scalp yet.

/his/'s next confrontation was against /sci/, arising from a dispute about whether psychology was a humanity or a science. The beginning of the match was high-octane, with Vlad the >>implier stamping /his/ onto the scoreboard at the 5th minute. He was joined by >Holy>Roman>Empire in the 45th minute, just a fraction into extra time for the half. On the /sci/ side, Sun of Lava/Ice snuck through the defence time and time again, scoring thrice and shattering both Wallachian and French hopes - however, Bismarck struck once at the 74th minute, bringing the scores even, and when both sides thought the match was to end in a stalemate, the chancellor swept out of nowhere in plus time (90th+5' minute) to score an absolute blooter, proving his tactical genius and sealing the match 4-3.

The third battle was against the cyclist lovers of /n/. There was little to report on the matter - the first half gave no results, with several players seen engaging in earnest debate on the role of trains in warfare. In the second half, the play resumed in earnest as both sides remembered they were here to play some motherfucking virtual divegrass, and the /his/torians fought valiantly to break the defense of /n/. Sadly, they were not able to, a matter bought frighteningly forward by I like Trains, who scored a double-header at the 67th and 74th minutes, with a cap by leading centre-forward Bepsi, who scored at the 82nd minute. In a last ditch attempt, /his/ command ordered a Banzai charge. At the forefront of this attack were Bomber Harris and Anarco-Memeism, who both scored once each - but despite several begging requests to DO IT AGAIN, BOMBER HARRIS, there was not enough fuel in the tank and /his/ was defeated 3-2.

In the Round of 16 the /his/torians were drawn to fight /tg/ again. The match, played on /tg/ home soil, smacked of all the fierceness and resolve that only a clash of D&D and old history-book smell could achieve. The score was reflective of that - and neither the /his/torians nor /tg/ were able to break the line of the other. At the 80th minute, /tg/'s utterly fictional and >neither holy nor Roman Emprah sunk one in for the opening goal of the match. Hopes for a penalty shootout were crushed swiftly by Nicol Bolas, who chimed in with a cheeky 90+'er in extra time. The match ended a 0-2 defeat.

The Spring campaign, despite its untimely end, was considered an overall success - its primary objective of securing the /his/torians their position in the 2017 Summer Cup was achieved. It was to be their first Elite tournament.

2017 Summer Campaign

Prussian Discipline OP; Please nerf Boris
After some concerning results at the end of the Spring Babby cup - their promotion to an elite team notwithstanding - /his/ had some contemplating to do. The Cup Group draw had proven highly unfavourable, with routine heavyweight /asp/ featuring prominently in the group table, in addition to serious contender /s4s/, who were positioned 7th and 16th in team Rankings respectively pre-cup. Comparatively, /his/ was ranked at 42nd. The fourth member of the cup pool, /wg/, was placed at 41st, but the battle-lines were drawn for an arduous contest for /his/ to avoid relegation.

The first skirmish of the campaign began in earnest on the 28th of July against /s4s/. JunoIvanovich, new team manager and Generalissimo, had spoken about the necessity for a Blitzkrieg, and this was proven with vigor as the dashing Bismarck blitzed one past the /s4s/ defensive lines at the 7th minute. A narrow ten-and-something-minutes later came the return fire, with Patrick Bateman capitalising after a botched defensive play to score in the 18th. Determined not to be outdone, The Prussian Prince and his >Holy>Roman doubting counterpart joined forces to sink a pair of goals at 22 and 29 minutes that would see /his/ through the majority of the match. A valiant effort by Keksandra for a cheeky 90+'er was not enough to save the match, and a 3-2 victory was joyously received by the /his/torians.

With the weight of the powerful /s4s/ shed came the prospect of a more evenly-matched team: /wg/. What was not observed, however, was the stunning performance of /wg/ in the face of /asp/, where they had prevailed 2-1 over the heavily-weighted pool favourite.

The confrontation against /wg/ took place two days later on the 30th of July, and /his/ made it clear that, much like the Japanese army in Nanjing, they would take no prisoners. Unfortunately the referee was not in agreement, and promptly BTFO Gauled for a harsh foul, exiling the barbarian to the bench. His difference on the field of battle could not have been more apparent, and a man short, Helios of /wg/ slapped an enlighting shot past the Christian Dark Ages at the 20th minute. The attack failed to galvanise the remaining /his/torians into a solid defence, and at the 27th minute Comfy took the one-man disadvantage and turned it into a 2-0 lead. The return of Gauled and a moment of beauty after halftime by >Holy>Roman>Empire could not save the matter, and /his/ lost narrowly 2-1 despite other scoring opportunities.

The situation was now quite clear. With /wg/ winging its way to a clean sweep of the group and /his/ unable to secure a victory against its closest rival, a win against /asp/ would be their only chance to move on in the cup. With time to rest and study tactics between games, the /his/torians took the field on the night of the 5th of August. What followed was a tightly-woven game of solid defense and a few heartstopping moments for /his/. The first half looked scoreless until, in the 42nd minute, sweeper Sir Arthur "Krispy Krauts" Harris bested Save One Leave One to score at the 42nd minute. /asp/ were in shock, and this state of mind persisted through the break - play had barely resumed before the /his/torians struck again, with >Holy>Roman>Empire adding a handful of incendiaries to Harris' Dresden special at the 52nd minute. From thereon out, the /asp/ force descended into shitposting about WWE. Even in the dying moments, the match escalated in brutality, and a card was issued to >airshit in the 82nd minute for a personal foul. When the battle drew to a close, /his/ was the victor, and had achieved the previously unthinkable - they were, unbelievably, on their way to their first elite knockout cup performance in their first elite cup, having triumphed over pool favourites.

/his/ v /u/ - Round of 16
The /his/torians found themselves in the land of forbidden love for their first game in the knockout of Summer 2017 - a showdown versus the /u/nicorns at St. Michael's Academy. As Charlememe and Empire For Sale took the field, they were reputedly overheard by Juno discussing whether love could bloom, even on the battlefield.

The fecund fields of St. Michael's proved an apt battleground. Not to be dissuaded by strong defense from Goggles and Onee-sama both, >Holy>Roman>Empire began the match by capitalizing on a lighting /his/ offence, bringing the visitors to a 1-0 lead. The celebration was short lived, though, as /u/ responded with several hard strikes from Akkarin - but there was nothing past the Great Wall of China until the end of half-time, when attacking midfielder Purest Form of Love put a header into the top left pocket to bring the half to a close. Animosity on the field began to rise out of a dispute over whether Cleopatra was pure or not, and in the 43rd minute Feito-chan was carded after a savage chop at the legs of Diogenes, who merely laughed off all women as whores and told Feito-chan to get the fuck out of his sunlight.

The second half opened in much the same the first had ended - intense, with heavy attacking in the midfield by /u/ quashing /his/ aggression. A second card, this one for Teru Time, was issued over a dangerous personal foul. Excellent attacking play by Akkarin and Purest Form of Love presented repeated challenges to the /his/ defensive line, and Charlememe looked set to stonewall /his/ to another draw, but a tactics switch-up by /u/ in the nearest closing moments of the match was what ultimately wrought a /his/ defeat. At 84 and 87 minutes, Midfielder Black Sunshine and centre-forward Homucifer struck once apiece to bring the score to 3-1. As was custom, divine Emperor-Coach JunoIvanovich ordered the banzai charge, and Bomber Harris was the first to man the offense, with a goal in extra time; but no amount of 'kys weebs' could revise this history. The match, and /his/'s summer 2017 season, ended with a 3-2 defeat for /his/.

2018 Winter Campaign

Step Aside Peasants; his Royal Highness takes to the Field
Strategically, there was little more that could have been done - that was the assertion of the coaching staff come the close of the Summer fighting season. His most Royal Highness Charles II, the King of Spain, Naples, Sardinia, Sicily and Burgundy, disagreed. With vigour and energy his majesty revamped the team to include himself, donned his football boots and strode out into the narrow and blustery winter cup like a colossus.

/his/ v /fit/

The team, all of them petty men, walked beneath his huge legs and basked in the shade of his majestic chin as they began their slow march towards a premiership. /fit/, having been challenged by the presence of the ultimate alpha male, were the first combatants /his/ were to face. The contest was noted in the opening minutes for a lack of control from both /his/ and /fit/, but /his/ would not bow to the aggressive style that /fit/ adopted.

...It's true, they're not really being intimidated by the muscles of /fit/. /fit/ wojak back there... whoever that is - ah, it's 'feelin' fit, buddy' - is basically ripping out of his clothes he's so ripped, but /his/ will not be intimidated.

--Marqod

Contrary to this, in fact, /his/ dominated the half in both possession and territory (63% possession with 4 shots on goal), though they were unable to capitalize immediately due to a tightly-packed defence. >Holy>Roman>Empire continued to apply pressure, starting in the 25th minute with a pass to an on-side Charles II, but despite a mighty chin swing from his majesty READ THE FUCKING STICKY made a solid save to keep the scores nil-all. Barely a minute later, a penalty conceded by Gains Goblin allowed Bismarck an attempt, but again the /fit/ goalkeeper was competent, and in such a way the game continued at an impasse until the 35th minute - where a daring chip into territory by Bismarck met an aerial strike by Charles II, which hit the post and then the back of the goalkeeper's head to award /his/ their first goal of the season (albiet not one they scored). /fit/'s strategy shift into counterattack was immediate, and a header by /fit/ striker Zyzz into the top-left pocket was saved comfortably by the new /his/ Goalkeeper, Maginot Line, to end the half 1-0.

The second half began with reasonable /fit/ offensive maneuvers, but a sudden breakthrough by >Holy>Roman>Empire to beat three offenders kept them honest, forcing the goalie into an alarming dive to save a blooter. The resulting corner gave a rare opportunity to Lutheran Shitposter, who struck well, but yet-a-fucking-gain /fit/'s goalie bore the brunt of the attack with a good save.

I saw the book moving at about the right speed - that was a power header for a non-medal [player]!

--Marqod, referring to Lutheran Shitposter's playermodel (a bible)

/fit/ scrambled to assemble a proper countermeasure, finally taking it to the /his/ defensive line in the 68th minute - a potential shot on goal by Squatz was pounced on by the Maginot Line. Occasional moments of glory emerged to keep /fit/ aggression at bay, with Gauled utterly deleting two defenders in the 75th minute to keep the ball aggressively postured. Moments later, Bomber Harris sensed the presence of the eternal g*rman and dropped a bomb that cannoned into the back of Bismarck's head, who was then also fouled for being offside. The turnabout took the ball back into /his/'s defensive half, and gave opportunity afresh to /fit/, but ultimate several brilliant and not-at-all-reflected-in-real-life defences by the Maginot Line rendered the attack inert, and the /his/torians emerged 1-0 and victorious in their first match for the season.

/his/ v /u/; Featuring 'That Goal'

"...[A] magnificent joint anthem. We're into this comfy match."

--Doyes, after the dual /his/-/u/ Anthem

It was a dignified affair at the /u/ home stadium of St. Michael's, but those on the /his/ side who were old enough to remember the previous year remembered the indignities suffered at the hands of /u/, who would go on to place second in the Summer Cup of 2017. So too were the battle lines drawn for a chance to score a revenge and pillage a few lesbians.

An honest and decent contention was made in the attack and defence of both teams; who both ran 3/5/2 to open the play - but the outcome of this was that the Macaron (/u/'s ball) remained squarely in the /his/ defensive half. A foul at the 13th minute committed by the Russian Baltic Fleet gave /u/ a threatening chance to score, but the Maginot line saved competantly. The order of attack down the /his/ line was, in much the same way as th fleet itself, also similarly mired in communication issues - /his/ could not manage to crack the /u/ seige. Matters were complicated further when Bomber Harris reaped the proverbial whirlwind a bit too hard - he recieved a yellow card for a personal foul on Friending. He left the field amid howls of frustration from the /his/ 4CC discord and fans. Moments later, the Maginot Line was subject to attack from Feito-chan, which it rebuked - but barely a few seconds had passed before Feito-chan scored a goal from a very thin angle to the Line's right-hand side.

The response to aggress was instant; with Gen. Ivanovich observing that there was too much danger to allowing /u/ unmitigated access to their half. /his/ had not offered a single strike on goal.

"Their [/his/'s] offence can't get it very far, like - they get to the midfield, and then they get the ball stolen almost immediately."

--Doyes

From here until the end of the first half ran a more contested state of play, albiet not one without substantial note from the commentary box that /u/ were contesting it all too well. >Holy>Roman>Empire attempted to put /his/ on the board with a shot in the 45th - but it was lackluster, and largely muffled by /u/ defender Black Sunshine to the point where PES did not even consider it a shot on goal. The stats told the story: /u/ had managed 4 shots, all on target at that juncture, versus /his/'s zero - all the while maintaining a two-point deficit on possession (/u/ 48%-52% /his/).

At the start of the second half, a sneak attack yielded an opportunity for Bismarck, but he was cleared confidently by /u/ defenders. The resulting momentum was sharply reverted as the ball was cleared to Purest Form of Love at the halfway mark, who utterly annihilated three /his/ defenders, making a last-second cross to Akkarin. The /u/ striker took another incredibly sharp-angled goal past the Maginot line to take the score to 2-0.

"I mean, I do question /his/ putting what is essentially a meme in the goal - *stifles laughter* - it's like, 'hey, what'd be a good player to represent our goalkeeper? The maginot line! Brilliant."

--Paval, not quite getting the joke

A preset change later to a defensive-oriented aspect left many scratching their heads. Gen. Ivanovich later admitted it was designed to lure /u/ into a false sense of security, an act that was swiftly justified. A long ball from near /his/' goal box from Diogenes found its way to >Holy>Roman>Empire, who promptly dazzled an attacker and crossed into Charles II in the centre - and oh lord, his most gracious majesty would not disappoint. In a summary of what this team really fucking means, he leapt into the air above and ahead of no less than four /u/ defenders and delivered an explosive bicycle kick from well beyond the box; rocketing the coveted Macaron into the back of the net at a blinding pace that not even the well-experienced /u/ goalkeeper Madokami could match. It was /his/' first goal scored for the cup.

He does not need wings to fly.

...Incredible. I am completely at a loss for words.

--Doyes

Spectacular... what an absolutely ludicrious cross.

--Paval

If you thought /his/ was buried, you're dead wrong.

--MBa

Suffice it to say that after that point, the commentary box was substantially less critical of the /his/ attack.

Subs were introduced at 65:00, with African Paratrooper and Caesar taking the field to replace Napoleon and Anne Frank respectively. Elsewhere, energy and fitness ran high, and /his/ was considerably more aggressive and dangerous as they moved into the last quarter.

A threatening corner from /u/, to briefly switch the flow, led to a series of repelled attacks; only one of which reached the Maginot line and was deflected. Tension and nerves ran high on the /u/ side of things, and Feito-chan was booked for a foul on Caesar in the 75th - an offence that would remove her from play from the next game (it being her second in two games). The opportunity was there. But no amount of /his/ attack could finish the job, and under immense pressure, /u/ refused to break despite a blooter from Charles that scraped the left goalpost. In the end, a strategic retreat was ordered. /his/ had taken their best and given a few moments of magic, and possession remained competitive at 50% each, but /u/ proved far more competent, and the match ended in their favour 2-1. /u/ would later go on to forge a hard-earned finals victory to claim their first star; and in this way it is worth pointing out that the relatively new /his/ could keep their head held high, even in loss that threatened to relegate them.

A /his/torian's Worst Nightmare

Oh, what could've been...

Regrettably after this point, the old and embittered monk who had been writing the team history in the margins of his bible notes up until this point froze, starved, and was consumed by rats in no particular order inside a Russian gulag. What followed could only be described as a mystery lost to the ages. Shortly after the loss to /u/ came a 0-2 loss to /mlp/; which sealed the deal and left the team scattered, without hope, and relegated af. However, to leave it at merely this would not suffice. What came after the relegation was a period of six months of blackness wherein not a single game was won. This period in which absolutely no fucking match history was recorded whatsoever and everyone ate snow and grass while defending themselves from invading barbarians was referred to as 'the /his/tian Dark Ages'.

2018 Spring Campaign