A Bottom of the Table Clash

Going into Thursday night’s game in the Sheridan Park Soccer League, our record did not make pretty reading:

Played: 5

Lost: 5

Goals For: 1

Goals Against: Countless

However despite our horrendous form, we weren’t propping up the table. That honor belonged to our opponents Rush FC, who had also finished second best in every game and who had also managed to find the back of the net on just one occasion. Alphabetical order was all that was separating the teams. It was a bottom of the table clash that promised to be hard fought, scrappy, severely lacking in quality, and ultimately, goalless. It would certainly have been billed as a ‘relegation dogfight’ and a ‘six-pointer’ if it wasn’t for the absence of relegation from this league and the awarding of two points, rather than three, for a win. Regardless, this was our big chance to win a game.

Making its long awaited return for this match was my competitive spirit. I didn’t want us to finish bottom of the league and I was starting to miss that winning feeling. I was determined that we would triumph and I was rampant out there – going in hard for tackles, making heroic clearances, getting my head to the ball off corners, taking players on, appearing in defense, attack, on both wings, and even taking the goalkicks. It was a performance so industrious that by the end of the 40 minute game I was almost cramping and for the rest of the night I had one of those strenuous exercise induced stomach aches.

It was a good job that I was throwing myself around with such fervor, as we only had three of four girls required and thus had to play with ten players. My teammates were bringing the intensity too and our hard work was paying off as we kept them at bay for the first 15 minutes. Then something quite remarkable happened. We scored. It was a long clearance up field and a calamitous mix-up between their defender and goalkeeper allowed our striker to fire home. 1-0.

Our goalscorer was actually one of our two goalkeepers, who play a half each in goal. So for the second half the man who had given us an oh-so-precious lead donned the gloves, while the keeper who had made a series of important saves in the first half went into the attack. Ten minutes later something utterly incredible happened. We scored again. And it was our other goalkeeper who scored it! It was a toe poked shot that bounced once before beating their keeper, who inexplicably tried to save it with his feet. The unlikeliest of goalscorers had given us a two goal lead.

From then on they were attacking relentlessly and they pulled one back with a sharp finish to set up a tense finale. With our balls to the wall, we defended like champions and held on for the win. The feeling I had later that night of exhaustion and triumph was one I had sorely missed.