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Charlie and his friends had grown up copying their favourite footballers on Crickledon Rec for years.
Now they had eight minutes to save their home pitch.
They were a goal down against a team with fresher legs and booming confidence.
But Emma’s words stirred something deep inside them.
Tissues still rammed up his nostrils, Mudder began to come out and claim any long balls arrowed towards his goal.
The midfield chased the ball in packs, hounding the Moss Green players and denying them time on the ball.
This pressure meant the service to the Moss Green frontmen became ragged.
It allowed Wrecka and Battery to go man-to-man and Bishop was free to sweep up any loose balls.
The tactical change worked perfectly.
And, as a result, the momentum of the game began to slowly swing again.
Toby fizzed a shot into the Moss Green goal, which had sparked a mass argument over whether it bounced inside the bike acting as a post or over it.
Park football always has these flaws, particularly when there were no goals or nets.
But the Moss Green team would not accept it was a goal, no matter how much Toby and Emma protested.
Instead they had to settle for the corner.
Charlie stood back from the crowded goalmouth.
He had barely run at all.
In fact, he had been a passenger for most of the second half.
Not for the first time, he wished he could run like the others.
A quick look at Billy on the side-lines sent a pang of guilt through him.
Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t be on the pitch.
He watched as the two teams jostled with each other in the penalty area.
There were four minutes left.
Moss Green still led 10-9.
Charlie stood alone.
Only Mudder was behind him.
If Moss Green counter attacked straight from the corner, he could not stop them.
Perhaps he would slide to try to win the ball, but he doubted his exhausted legs would allow him to get back up again.
Leeshinski stood over the ball.
He glanced in the Boy Wonder’s direction for a moment and then put both hands in the air as a signal to the players in the box.
Immediately, Charlie knew what Ad was going to do.
He had seen it before ... on an ancient game of football in the early days of the Premier League.
Charlie could barely believe Leeshinski was going to risk it, but as soon as the ball was clipped in his direction, he knew his gut instinct had been right.
Taken by surprise, the other players stood and watched as the corner kick went back into the middle part of the pitch.
Charlie was at least 20 metres away from the goal and was nowhere near anyone else.
A flick of his eyes placed the target into the corner of the Moss Green goal. He made sure he kept it low so there could be no argument over height.
With so many bodies in the way, he doubted his shot would reach the goal but perhaps one of his team could scramble home a deflection or rebound.
The target flashed green.
He turned his full concentration onto the ball.
Leeshinski’s corner had been clever.
He had chipped high to give Charlie time to get into position but it did not have much pace either so it made Charlie’s task a touch easier.
Watching the ball, the Boy Wonder moved towards the front post, moving away from the centre of the pitch.
Moss Green players began to move out to try to close down the danger.
But it was too late.
Charlie knew he had one chance.
He was running towards the ball, so had to hit the volley at the same time as he turned.
It was a tricky move but he had practiced it enough times.
Slowly the ball dropped out of the sky – and Charlie was there to meet it.
His right foot connected sweetly with the ball. At the same time, his hips swivelled and the ball flew off towards the far corner of the goal.
It kept low as it disappeared through the dense crowd of pulled-down football socks and knobbly knees.
Some jumped out of the way. Others watched the spectacular shot with a sense of awe.
Adam Knight stood on the inside of the post.
His eyes lit up as the ball arrowed towards him.
He stretched out his left leg to block the ball.
But the keeper, who stood a metre in front of him, began to move too.
“No. Leave it!”
Adam cried out but it was already too late.
Waynn threw himself in the direction of the thunderbolt shot but could not stop it.
However he did take a touch, which altered the path of the ball ... away from Adam’s lunge.
The bully ended up in a helpless heap as the ball whizzed past him.
GOAL!
10-10.
The next goal would decide the match – and the fate of Crickledon Rec for the summer.