Wilderspool Causeway

You can’t accuse our coaches of failing to innovate. They will take a defeat on the chin and, rather than railing against the elements or tearing strips off the players, calmly retreat to think through what happened, why and how we can change.

Paul is currently doing a course called ‘Creativity in Football’ so it was perhaps no surprise when before the game he gathered the players into a tight circle to pour over what I can only describe as ‘Rothko Charts’, blocks of colour denoting sections of the pitch to indicate where players should be during various phases of the game.

It seemed to tap into the mathematical sides of their brains, a little puzzle they engaged in with relish. I wasn’t entirely sure what the strips and cubes meant, but hands were shooting up in abundance.

The first game of the Summer League, as some may remember, was disastrous so we had to go back to the drawing board. Since that game, the team have played in a Christmas Tree formation, heavier at the base (defence) and lighter in attack, winning twice and drawing once.

One of the main tenets of the ‘Creativity in Football’ course is to limit the information given to children, so as not to ‘coach them out’ of their instincts. I suppose the information you do give, therefore, has to be good. The Rothko colours seemed to remind them of the idea of playing in a pattern.

The grass pitch they played on seemed to be suffering slightly from the effects of the weather, lack of gardening and too many dogs. Long grass in the corners held the ball up, creating a more fluent game on the one hand, as the ball was in play more, and a sense of rugby scrums and rolling mauls on the other as players sought to move the ball forward.

We laid seige to their goal with several near misses before Caversham scored with their first shot, against the run of play. ‘Keep up the pressure!’ yelled one of their dads. I couldn’t (or just didn’t) resist firing back ‘What pressure? That was your first shot!’

Wokingham went back on the offensive and won a free kick soon after, which Evan lined up to take from a narrow angle at the edge of the box. I knew he could score from that position, but superstition held me back from filming. I just felt that if I filmed it, he would miss. He curled it into the top corner before we added a further two goals with excellent finishes from lone striker Joel Davis, the angel at the top of the Christmas tree.

Controversy followed when Davis cut through the defence again and hammered the ball into the net. It also caught the underside of the crossbar and the ref felt that it hadn’t crossed the line: part of the net behind the goal is tight to the bar, meaning the ball could hit the net behind the bar at high velocity but still not technically cross the line. That’s why all goal nets at professional grounds are uniform now; the ball sails into the net without impediment.

Crossing lines. For some reason (perhaps due to having crossed Sonning Bridge perhaps over 1000 times), I always visualise the Caversham parents’ journeys to the game. Did they choose Reading, Caversham or Sonning Bridge? Taking it a stage further, I think about a reported scuffle on Caversham Bridge in 1643 between the Royalists from north of the river and the Parliamentarians from the south. In my mind, us folk from the nondescript tyre outlets and roadside garages of Emmbrook are still the Republicans against the Royalists from the herb gardens and tree lined parks of Caversham. Ridiculous, I know. It’s a match between complementary sets of 8-year-olds, united among the grills and gravestones of East Reading.

Usually, when there’s a moment of perceived injustice in the game, there’s also a sinking feeling and a question: ‘Will we have to pay for that?’ It looked as though we would. By half-time, it was 3-3 and early in the second half the perceived Royalists added another.

What followed was perhaps the best goal I’ve witnessed in person.  Before you say ‘So?’ (in the knowledge I’m a Fulham fan), please bear in mind that I’ve seen Pajtim Kasami score at Crystal Palace. And before you laugh, please note that his goal was nominated for a Ballon d’Or, meaning it was regarded as one of the top twenty goals in the whole of Europe that year. It’s hard to describe Callum’s (Connor’s) goal, except to resort to cliches like ‘mazy dribble’, ‘defies logic’ or ‘Messi style.’ He just ran around everyone, with incredible skill, and at the point at which you expect to say ‘Well he did the hard bit’, he slotted it home with class.

Despite that, the game seemed to be going in Caversham’s favour. Is this anything to do with the fact that they’re based at Mapledurham playing fields, 92 metres above sea level, and therefore have better lung capacities than those of us battling asthma down by the M4? Probably not, though buffer zones of greenery are probably more valuable to them than us. Callum constantly read the game like a master, determinedly tracking back to defend before rampaging forward to create play down the left. At 5-4 down, he squared the ball to Evan who picked his spot and hit the ball high into the goal to level the scores again.

The final passage of the game could not have felt more fitting. Again, we were caught out at the back. Questions have to be asked, no doubt, but with the score at 6-6 with a minute left, Davis – cruelly denied earlier – was put through to a one-on-one with the keeper and calmly completed his hat-trick.

A pitch invasion in Reading – of a better sort to that witnessed on Tuesday night – followed the final whistle. The coaches’ adaptability and creativity was vindicated and reflected back on the players as they gathered again in a close knit group with fists crossing, the elastic of the ‘Player of the Match’ wristband stretching to surround them all.