Supercoach: The Road to The Finals

As I have bemoaned before, The Mighty U14s haven't really been up to scratch since Round 1. The first game we played reflected the pre-season training. Trust. Passing. Space. Talk. The 4 cornerstones of my coaching rants.

This week was do or die. And other such sporting cliches. After 2 weeks of nursing injuries (a fight with a bathroom sink for the skipper, a fractured footbone for the right back) and illnesses, thanks to The Boy Factory Plague, and wet weather and exams affecting our training schedule,  we have been receiving results that reflected our complete lack of fitness and confidence.

And with The Green Machine trouncing us 2 weeks in a row, they have been nipping at our heels, closing our healthy gap of 9 points down to 1 point. With West Bubblefuck Football Association (rant about them to be found here) have canned the usual semi-finals season, due to so many wet weather weekends, a second place finish is essential.

So this weekend we faced Top of The Table. We have been comprehensively beaten by them before. We've also given them a touch up once, and then drawn in another game. One might say - specifically, my striker - we're pretty evenly matched.

Coming in to the match, there were nerves. A few golden rev up speeches by myself and my sidekick-supercoach.

For 80% of the game, they played like warriors. Focused. Energetic. With sharing and talking and teamwork. There was a moment in time that I turned to my sidekick and said "They're asleep. They've switched off." And within 20 seconds, Top of The Table had scored the softest goal I have ever seen. The backline were caught napping, and a not-that-hard ball was put through past the too-far-forward keeper. It barely rolled against the upright before dribbling across the line. My boys had their heads down, and at half time, we were down 1-0. At one point, I actually saw stars. A little too much shouting, and not quite enough inhaling.

More rev up speeches about intensity at half time. Sidekick got a little loose with some profanities, and lied to say that The Green Machine were up 1-0 in the game on the other side of the park, in an attempt to put some fire in their bellies. The striker tried to have a gripe about the sloppy defence, which may have been warranted. But I hit back with the instruction that the front line needed to share with each other more.

Onto the field again, a little more hungry for the ball. A soft call of being pushed over at the top of the box led to a beautiful penalty that was near impossible to save. And then we're down 2-0.

But as if from nowhere, desperation became hunger, which was converted into 2 quick goals.

2-2 at the whistle!!!

And The Green Machine drew with Bottom of the Ladder!!

At this stage, we're in the final. Sure there is the small matter that we have played 3 games less than all the other teams in the comp, but I really don't see how that can be recitified by next Saturday. Just like Mr Shue in Glee, I feel like I have pushed my team all the way to Regionals. Except we're not going to do a Journey medley.