So, Sunday morning I got up at just turned 6am, when the dog let me know it was time to go downstairs so he could shout at the cat.
From that point on, I refreshed the emails on my phone roughly every 5 minutes.
Me and my lad both put our kit on. Just in case.
His home matches are played only about 5 minutes (by car) from our house, so even a late thumbs up from the NHS wouldn’t be the worst outcome for him. We’d still be able to make a quick dash up there. I’d got it in my head where to drive to, so that the car would be close enough to the pitch for him to sprint to the sideline and I could worry about finding somewhere to park after.
Nothing. Not a peep from my phone.
Deep down we knew it was a big ask to hear anything before kick off. That would have been less than 48 hours after the test. The NHS website quotes that “most people get their test results within 2 days, but it could take up to 5 days.” So for the time being, our self-isolation continued.
One of the midfielders was also self-isolating, another midfielder out with a back injury. The lad who had taken on the burden of going in goal was – you’ve guessed it – another midfielder.
His manager is self-isolating but was kept in touch with what was happening at the game by a few of the dads. More or less straight after kick off, my phone burst in to life as he began relaying the messages to me. 1-0 up inside a few minutes. 2-0. 3-0. We were buzzing and I was wondering if I’d have to pay out a clean sheet bonus to the deputising keeper.
Unfortunately I didn’t have to think about it for too much longer. By half time the deficit had been reduced to 3-2. Into the second half and in what seemed like no time at all, we were 5-3 down. My dad, a ‘season ticket holder’, said the lad in goal had done well but it seemed the lack of rotation available for the midfield had taken it’s toll. They just ran out of steam.
At 5-3 down they had a good go at them and even managed to pull a goal back but it ended 5-4. My lad and me trudged upstairs and got changed back out of our kit. The usual empty feeling of defeat was there but in a different kind of way. I’d still had the hope that his run of consecutive games would somehow miraculously continue and even if he didn’t perform heroics, he’d do enough to help his team get a win.
We were still waiting on the test result coming through and even though we didn’t know when we’d hear, my mind started to wander towards the possibility of getting my stuff together for work on Monday morning.
It was about 4.30pm when my phone pinged.
As it was me that had booked the test for my daughter and also taken her to the testing centre, it was me that received both a text and an email with the result. As I read the text, my heart sank and I got a burning sensation in my eyes. My wife was in the room at the time.
I felt my bottom lip wobble. I couldn’t talk without my voice cracking. I just turned my phone round so she could read it. We stood there and looked at each other. Maybe it was our constant reassurances, telling our daughter that it wouldn’t be coronavirus, that meant we’d also convinced ourselves but I can honestly say I was certain that it was going to come back negative.
We went in the room together to tell her the news. Her expression changed and she looked flushed in the cheeks. I thought she was going to cry but she didn’t. Deep down she took it much better than I did. I felt helpless that her test was positive and this virus that had not impacted on us directly until now, had hit home with full force.
We had a look on the NHS website to double check what happened next, although we already had a good idea. Self-isolation for her for 10 days from her symptoms starting. 14 days for the three of us.
My wife’s been working from home since the original lockdown started in March. I’ve been very fortunate to be able to keep working full time, without too much difference in how we’ve gone about things. Obviously social distancing, regular hand sanitising and mask wearing have all been introduced but in the main we’ve been able to continue working with most of our usual customers.
So first of all, I let my mum and dad know, then my boss.
Next, I let my lad’s manager know that he’d be missing his second competitive game in just over seven years, next Sunday in the quarter final of the cup.
And so in the space of five days, we’ve gone from being positive about giving the league and cup a really good go this season, to possibly getting knocked out of the cup and we’re also propping up the division. Early days yet though.
On social media over the weekend I saw several conversations about what should be done to even things up in the eventuality of weakened teams. At younger age groups there’s a lot of feeling that sides should be matched up, so if a team can only field say, 7 players in a 9-a-side game, the opposition should only put 7 players on the pitch as well. That works in principle but if it’s not written into the laws of the game, who’s to say all teams will follow that approach? Guaranteed some won’t.
At older ages, specifically in higher divisions my feeling is that less teams would want to go down that route. In a lot of cases the teams are in high divisions at the older ages because they’ve been competitive since around u12’s when scores and league tables are published.
I didn’t see anything confirmed by a league official – which would be a novelty in itself – but it appears quite a few people are under the impression that there are special measures because of the COVID situation. This looked to mean the opportunity to call a postponement if proof were given that x amount of players weren’t available to play, specifically because of the virus. Standard laws mean an 11v11 game must still go ahead even if one of the teams is only able to field 8 players. 8 v 11 (+ subs) generally means a cricket score.
One thing I didn’t notice when I was looking through the different takes on how to address these situations is what happens if the goalkeeper is missing?
With all due respect to outfielders, in these kind of situations, it shows how important goalkeepers are.
Pick any outfield player out of a team to miss a game and there’s still a good chance you can get a result. In grassroots, with only one recognised keeper in the squad, take him out and the odds are instantly stacked against you. The other thing about grassroots is you tend to recognise players from season to season. I’ve no doubt the opposition on Sunday will have known even before kick off that the lad in our goal wasn’t a keeper.
As I said before, older age teams in higher divisions are more likely to go for 3 points than the sporting gesture.
So this week laddo’s 100% guaranteed to miss out, as dictated by the law of the land. It is what it is, there’s definitely no hope of a last minute reprieve this time around.
But it gets you thinking, I’m sure some of the other teams – older ages, in higher divisions – might just plead ignorance or keep quiet, to make sure they’re not weakening their chance of 3 points. Who knows? Maybe I’m being cynical?
I’ll want to keep up to date with Sunday’s cup game, that’s a given, but for all my talk about football and specifically goalkeeping, by far the most important matter, is the sister of who I usually write about.
Keep the faith.
Keeper of the faith 