After a two-week break, it is finally down to the top two teams in the competition to trash it out in the muddy fields of Marina South. It was a do-or-die mission, as our team wanted revenge over the previous year’s defeat at the hands of this same opponent. We had identified the 2 main danger-men, one who is the main midfield maestro – very fit, fast and built like a bull; the other being none other than Quah Kim Song’s (ex-national footballer) son. The strategy was simple – play to the offside trap and double-team on the danger-men. The tricky part was of course, our leaky defense seem a tad less pacier than the striking force of the opponent, and playing the offside trap could potentially backfire on us.
The game started on a fast and furious pace, but the offside trap seemed to work (amidst a few minor scares), as the opponent was caught out a few times. As the game progressed, our midfield seemed to have settled down faster and was able to control that part of the field better. Then it happened. Towards the end of the first half, our team made a break from the left, and the left wing combined well with the left midfield to get behind the opposing defense. The cross went in, but was not struck well, and it rolled (almost in slow motion) towards the goal. The goalkeeper went down to smother the ball, and all of us half-turned back into defensive positions. Alas! The unexpected happened! The ball apparently rolled under the keeper’s arms and went through past the goaline, beyond the poor keeper’s reach! Huh? Goal? It was almost unbelievable. We’re ahead! Goal!!!!!!!!!
The second half started brightly and the opponents seemed to have changed tactics. They played a little further back, trying not to play into out offside trap. Which probably was a mistake on their part, as they threw in high long balls and found themselves having to chase the ball often. During one such chase, which flew in from the midfield towards our penalty area, both one of our centrebacks and myself sprinted back, as the danger-man was similarly on to the ball. We clashed into each other, or rather, my teammate stepped onto my right foot, and I heard a crunching sound. We got the ball away, but I knew I was out for the rest of the game, promptly calling for a substitution. I limped off the field to nurse my aching ankle and watch the rest of the game from the sidelines.
There was still much of 15 minutes of so left to the game after that, and it was a tantilising last few minutes for us. The opponents applied much pressure and camped outside our goalmouth, having been awarded freekicks, corners and we just could not seem to get the ball out. The young referee was also pressure by our opponents into making some dubious decisions, but at least he did not show any yellow or red cards (someone said after the match that the referee did not seem to have brought any cards with him).
In the last minute though, we had a fast break, and our striker was through on goal. He sprinted down the right, took a look at the goal, and aimed for the left bottom corner. With only the goalie to beat, the shot went inches wide. Then the final whistle blew. And thus we are the Champions.
*Queen’s song rocks on in the background…*
We are the champions – my friends
And we’ll keep on fighting – till the end -
We are the champions -
We are the champions
No time for losers
‘Cause we are the champions – of the world -
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