Wilderspool Causeway

A strong planetary breeze affected today’s game against Woodley United. Technically it was a ‘fresh breeze’, which sounds gentle but is actually between ‘moderate’ and ‘strong’ on the official charts. Whatever terminology you want to use, it felt strong enough to make training plans all but useless. This was just as well because at the end of Tuesday’s session Coach Peter knelt down to check the players’ understanding of what they had just learned. He was met with total silence. Eventually Connor decided to take a punt with ‘Erm…passing, shooting, tackling, movement.’ This was not the right answer. Sensing this, other players chimed in to help. One ventured ‘Time’ and another went with ‘Space’.

We were playing a team we had beaten a few weeks ago and whose manager was a compact and slightly mischievous Phil Daniels type figure. Thankfully we had our own characters in the team who could contend with anything the elements, the opposition, the manager or his coterie could throw at us. Notable in this regard was Josh Dance, who arrived as if fresh from a meeting of the Lower Earley Psychedelic Society, with an outlandish coat and hat combo in stark contrast to the official orange and black livery of Wokingham & Emmbrook FC. He wasn’t even at training, so would be carrying neither the psychic baggage of incomprehension nor the subconscious lessons learned through practice. He would follow the beat of his own drum, but ironically become the best example of what the other players couldn’t articulate: the ability to get back behind the ball quickly when we lost it and pass it decisively when we found it.

In the first half we were against the wind, and the Woodley manager obviously felt ‘Confidence is a preference’ and encouraged his players to belt the ball into the stratosphere. On one of these occasions it seemed to take a month long vacation before dipping into our half, bouncing and looping over the keeper and into the goal. We tried to defend against this style and keep the ball on the carpet as much as possible, but who could honestly blame Woodley for working with the elements?

At half-time, Peter went for it. It was a kind of Warnock/De Niro/Ferguson mix with a Scouse twist: ‘Youse can win this game. Youse are going to win this game but you have to make it happen. The wind is not going to gift you this game…’. He then went around the team with a quick hard-hitting precis of their efforts so far. They could stay there and get the shit kicked out of them or they could fight their way back – to the light.

But the second half started with indecision and a lachrymose defence. Woodley scored an outstanding goal as they worked the ball down the right before whipping it in for their central midfielder to score an excellent volley: 2-0.

As this point, Peter’s motivational capacities went into overdrive; Connor was playing right-back but he needed him to make gut-busting runs forward. Ciara, at centre-back, was having the game of her life, regularly surging forward 20 yards into midfield to win the ball against boys nearly twice her size; she was absolutely superb and without a shadow of a doubt worthy of the player of the match award she received at the end; Mark and Jack were fighting meaningfully in midfield and the whole team were trying to shift the momentum in our favour. But despite the effort, balls flew wide and over the bar rather than at the goal, and we were always susceptible to a counter-attack as we committed players forward.

It seemed like it was going to be ‘one of those games’, but such was our determination that  faint hopes of revival couldn’t quite be extinguished. Evan – out of action due to illness this week – came on for a second half cameo and though he struggled with the pace of the game, whipped in a quality ball with about 5 minutes to go. Josh, perhaps resurgent as he looked forward to a restorative gong bath back at the centre, or a visit to the Crystal Sound Lounge on Carshalton Way,  glanced the ball into the corner to score only the fourth header in the team’s history. It was so well deserved, but would it lead to another? Time was running out, and Woodley were no mugs.

Then, seeming disaster. Woodley sought to record a riposte in short order and committed players forward in an attempt to compound their lead. The ball bounced around in the box, and indefatigable Ozzy in goal was left 3 on 1. He saved the first strike, parried the rebound and then sought to claw the ball away from the line after a Woodley player thought he’d scored. The ball was then kicked out of Ozzy’s hand/hands (was it one or two?) and into the goal. I must admit here that I thought a 3-1 Woodley win would be unfair so sought to influence the ref as much as possible. ‘It was kicked out of his hands ref!’ (I really didn’t know, but it could have been). The ref said no goal and it was back to a goal kick but with time running out.

In the final throes of the game, Connor – uncomprehending at the end of training – threw himself forward but his skill seemed thwarted by Woodley’s defence, who wisely gathered in central positions on the edge of the box. Mark fired an excellent half volley just over the bar. The Woodley goalkeeper took as much time as he possibly could over every manouevre, at one point smashing the ball as far as he could into the recesses of Sol Jol Park when it was our ball (there are no yellow cards at this level, so he could effectively do what he liked). One of those games? Not quite. In a final attack, with the box packed, Connor translated his dad’s instructions to seize the moment into a lunge through whatever was in his way to connect with the ball and send it with a deflection off the keeper into the top corner to earn a draw with all but the last kick of the game.