On the back of a few good performances, laddo’s team’s next fixture was away against second in the league.
Their last meeting was towards the back end of last season and was a hard fought 0-0. Against a team that had beaten our lads on the previous three meetings, a goalless draw felt like a win to us. Without creating a great deal of chances for themselves, the team had to withstand a few periods where their own goal was under threat. My lad and his defenders did their jobs well and came away with a well deserved clean sheet. It cost me a few quid, as clean sheets always do, and as always it was worth the money.
The lads went into this game on the back of a 4-0 win, which completed (so far) their first double over a team this season. Confidence was fairly high in the run up to the game and we thought it might be our best opportunity yet to get a first win over that weekend’s opposition.
When we got to their ground, a few of his team mates were already there. As we approached, one of our parents commented that they looked ‘like rabbits in the headlights’. Not a statement to fill you with confidence.
My lad was usually a little bit on edge against this particular team because of one of their forwards. They had played together at their previous club, when the other lad was one of his defenders. I always thought he looked the part. Solid in the tackle, not many players seemed to get past him and towards the end of his time in that team, when he got possession he started carrying the ball further and further into the opposition half. Since moving clubs, he had been converted into a striker.
In the team’s four previous meetings, the keeper had come out on top in their individual battle, if not the overall results. The lad in question hadn’t scored in any of the games, although our team had managed only the 0-0 draw along with three defeats.
There’s also another player on their team that has a bit of history with our lads, as he used to play for us and seems to think he’s something special. He also goes to school with a few of his ex-team mates, so Monday morning bragging rights were at stake. I was pleased that my lad wasn’t getting too worked up or showing any nerves as he generally does when playing against lads he knows.
The rabbits hopped out of the way of the oncoming traffic and did their warm up and I took the keeper through his usual routine to prepare him for kick off. His warm up was no better than average. If he wasn’t showing any nerves earlier, he certainly was now. After a bit of passing and handling at close range – which both went well – I went to the edge of the area to knock some shots in. He hardly stopped any and the ones he did, he didn’t look at all comfortable with and he started to get frustrated. I jogged over.
It’s at this point where I would give him a bit of a pep talk, put an arm round his shoulder and try to instil a bit of confidence in him. It was also at this point where we discovered that neither his towel or cap were in his bag. He looked panicked. I calmed him down. To be fair the cap didn’t look like it would be needed anyway on the typically grey January morning. But the towel, that was different. Even when it’s warm and sunny, he hangs the towel on the side netting. The side netting next to his right hand post to be specific. It’s a constant in his match day routine and always has been, ever since his first game. In that time, the towel has changed but it’s meaning hasn’t. He looked genuinely worried that the towel was absent. Through the years, goalies have been known for being superstitious. It turns out without realising it, he’s no different.
This required some quick thinking, it was only a few minutes before kick off. Sometimes he wears a base layer, sometimes not. Today he had one on, so I told him to take the base layer off and use that. Instantly he agreed it was a good idea and there was a look of relief, maybe even a hint of a smile. It wasn’t the towel but it would do. We’d forgotten about the less than convincing warm up, so I said my usual piece about the ground condition, wind direction, back passes etc and we went our separate ways. But not before I suggested he try to get his team mates wound up and ready for the opposition. I said I thought it would be a good idea for him to get the team in a huddle straight after the captain had done the coin toss. Apart from a couple of lads in the team, there aren’t many ‘leaders’ while the game is going on. Most of them are very quiet, especially if things aren’t going well. They did the huddle and filtered away to their positions.
Only a few minutes after the game started, it looked as though there were two different styles of football being played. On the wide, flat pitch our team were playing some decent passing football and making a few half chances. The opposition, who are a team with a few tall lads, were much more direct in their approach but they were also making chances. There was a spell of about five or ten minutes in the first half where we struggled to keep hold of the ball and the opposition kept pressing. It felt as though a goal might be coming.
The ball was bouncing around on the edge of our area and we couldn’t quite clear the danger. A half volley from just inside the box looked to be dipping under the bar. My lad managed to take a couple of quick, half steps backwards and jumped up and arched his back. His fingertips made the faintest of touches on the ball. It hit the bar and rebounded back into play. Instantly another shot hit the bar with the keeper still flat out and again bounced in the six yard box. It hit one of the defenders and went goalwards. My lad dived to his right and stopped it on the line. In the absence of VAR and goal line technology, the referee squinted towards the goal and said play on.
A few minutes later, one of their midfielders escaped a couple of challenges and from about 20 yards out, hit a shot towards the far post. At this point, there was a new shout. You sometimes hear “Get in!” from coaches or parents. This time the cry was “What a goal!” from their assistant manager, to which our manager replied, “I thought it had to go in to be a goal?”, a split second after my lad flung himself to his right and tipped the ball round the post. There were a few more run of the mill saves for him to make before the break but thanks to him, the score was still 0-0 at half time.
The team talk at half time was very positive. We’d made a couple of chances of our own and were still playing some really good stuff. The lads were just told to keep doing the same and they would get their reward. The opposition’s two centre halves looked uncomfortable when they were being closed down, especially when they were facing their own goal, so the midfielders were encouraged to play it into the channels to try to worry their defenders.
The second half kicked off and within a matter of minutes we were 1-0 down. A defender attempted to clear a cross but under pressure, only succeeded in putting it into the back of his own goal. It was a really unlucky start to the half but the lads didn’t go into their shells, as can so often be the case. Our lads kept attacking, trying to play it round their centre halves and a late tackle just inside the area gave us the chance to equalise from the penalty spot. The taker sent the keeper the wrong way. 1-1. In the next 10 minutes or so, only one team looked like getting a second goal. We were on top and they were being limited to hopeful long balls over the top.
Our ex-player came off the bench with about 15 minutes left. He didn’t really look like he could offer anything extra to what their team already had. Then he hit a long, hopeful shot. It looked like it was more in desperation than expectation. It was dropping under the bar but not going to cause my lad too much trouble. There was nobody nearby to challenge him, he moved into position in plenty of time and took the ball cleanly. Or so I thought.
I had half turned away as it slipped through his grasp and into the back of the net. The disappointment was written all over his face and in his body language. At that point, as the opposition parents cheered (and laughed at his expense) I reckon he would happily have been swallowed up by a hole in the ground. But there’s nowhere to hide is there? Mistakes happen all over the park throughout every game but when it’s the keeper, it’s remembered and often ends in a goal against.
You could almost see every one of our lads shoulders slump as if they felt the chance had gone. They battled on, all the way to the final whistle but the momentum was now with their opponents. They knew they’d been second best up until then but now, at 2-1 up, they had their best spell as our lads chased the game. With only a couple of minutes left, a corner was headed into his own goal by one of our wingers to make it 3-1.
Two own goals and an awful goalkeeping error had cost us the game. But it was the keeper’s error that people will remember and in truth it was the pivotal moment of the game. He’s made enough mistakes in his few years of playing to know that you have to forget about them while the game carries on, otherwise the mistakes, errors and fumbles begin to snowball. He’s changing into a young man as each week and game goes by and he dealt with the latest bump in the road with some maturity. In the final stages of the game he was still shouting instructions to his defenders, making himself available for backpasses and pulling off the occasional save.
During that game he went from hero to zero in the blink of an eye. As a keeper, the highs of making fantastic saves can make you feel on top of the world but the lows of a glaring mistake can make you feel sick to the pit of your stomach. That’s the price of being a goalie.
But he’ll be back soon, performing heroics in front of the supporters – and in front of his biggest fan.
One thing I know about him is that he’ll definitely keep the faith.
Keeper of the faith 