Name:Jace Champ

Sex: stallion

Age: 18-20

Species: Earth Pony

Pelt Color:My Pelt color tends to stand out a bit on the court being a reddish orange since the day of my birth.

Mane/Tail/Markings Color & Style: The redish orange color of my pelt is balanced and calmed down by my blue main and tail. I have no real preferred style for them though both are well brushed and kept.

Eye Color: Amber

Cutie Mark: A trophy in front of a basketball, I'm not a glory hound, nor do I seak fame or fortune. Rather the trophy represents how I compete, with honor, integrity, team work, and good sportsmanship. And the basketball represents well..the sport that I'm best at and which one I have the most passion for ^^;;

Physique: Being an athlete my coach drills me and the others on a regular basis to where I'm pretty well fit.

Origin: I was born about five years after my dad's own professional sports career had ended. He and mom had retired to a beach house at the Hoofington Bay Area which to this day still looks like a small sports museum with a hallway full of his trophies, medals and plaques. It was here that I grew up and went to school. It seemed just as soon as I was able to walk that dad introduced me to the family legacy. My father himself was a former baseball player having won at the World Cup, My grand father had competed in the pony olympics winning a couple of gold medals, my great uncle had won in the national champion soccer league two years in a row and well..you get the idea. Just about every member on my dad's side of the family has always one way or another been involved in a sport of some kind or variety. (Tennis though oddly not being included) Naturally my father and other relatives all expected me to go down this same path, encouraging me to partake in a sport of some sort.

Needless to say, none of this set well with me. I hated the idea that whether it was by fate or tradition that my life had essentially been planned out for me. More so I, like my mother believed we wrote our own fates. So I would try my hoofs at other things, music, art, wood shop and various other studies. I was kicked out of each course. The music teacher went deaf after I hit a sour note, the art teacher went blind after a random flying paint brush, the wood shop teacher took a accidental two by four to the head and ....well the other teachers just didn't wanna take their chances. It was if everything else that wasn't sports related that required a special talent was cursed by my mere touch. The guidance counselor was of little to no help as he would simply suggest I try out for sports.

Downtrodden I was heading past the gym when I saw that some one had left a basketball out. Idly trotting up to it I'd gaze down at it with a look of scorn. In a fit of frustration and rejection I bounced it a couple of times with my tail, then kicked it with my back hooves. Then what would seem like an act of retaliation the ball bounced off a wall and collided with my forehead. Thankfully Champs are born with thick skulls, so it only knocked me down and left me in a daze, looking up just in time I'd see the ball go swishing down the net of a hoop. So to convince myself it was just a random fluke of nature, I'd dribble the ball a few times and take a sincere shot at the basket...inside I would quietly curse myself as it went in again and again. What was more I found myself enjoying it, the feel of the gym floor against my hoofs, the echo of the ball as I dribbled it and satisfying sound of net.

I wasn't aware of it at the time but the school's basketball coach had been watching, after a bit of talking I agreed to show up for try outs. Thus would begin what would seem like a uncontrollable spiral as not only would I make the team, I'd become their star player. But my coach would speak a few words of advice that would bring some words of comfort, I still had a choice as to what type of athlete I would become. I could either be one of those hot shot players who merely longed for the spot light or I could be that player who played the game for the pure enjoyment of it, I chose the latter. My father in turn was enthusiastic, before he had been having me run a couple laps every morning, now he was having me run five. Additional drilling aside though, for a time life was good, I had embraced and found my true calling in life where in turn my cutie mark had finally appeared, (much to my mother's relief with me being almost a young stallion at the time.)But then...the paparazzi started to take notice.

Like all things it started out small, my team and I had been doing good. And after winning a few games in a row a reporter from the paper in my town interviewed me. Then as we got closer to the play offs my parents and I started getting calls from colleges that were interested in me. Little did I know that this was just a tinderbox waiting to be lighted. The spark that set it all off would come when me and my team won the big game, cameras were flashing, and various microphones were held up to my face followed by about fifty questions a second. When all commotion and dust had settled I had graduated and had been given a five year contract with the NPBA. As it now stands I'm now trying to find a balance of leading a normal life, playing the game I love...and not being driven insane with everything else what comes with it.

Likes: As much as I enjoy playing basketball (heck some times I dribble a basketball in my sleep) I like to take the occasional break if time allows it. From swimming to simply relaxing with a milkshake with my friends, though such times are rare for me.

Dislikes: If there's one thing I can't stand it's other players who play simply for fame and fortune, and are willing to do anything to get it. Another thing are reporters...I don't mind answering the occasional question, but when they start going through my trash, hanging outside my bedroom window and sifting through my personal life I tend to draw the line there.