Just over seventy minutes had gone when Hilary Hansard finally gestured for Jamie Johnson to take off his tracksuit top.

“So you think you’re special, then, do you, Johnson?” he said as Jamie stretched his hamstrings.

“I just try my best, sir.”

“Right, well, let’s see how good your best is, then. Get on there.”

 

 

Jamie sprinted on to the pitch as fast as he could.

Being brought on was like being released from a prison of frustration. He’d been impotent on the sidelines. Helpless.

But now he was a part of this Cup Final. He could change things.

As Jamie took his position on the left wing, he saw Hansard come to the touchline, holding up four fingers.

“Kingfield!” he shouted. “Go to 4 – 4 – 2! Attack!”

Jamie smiled. This was exactly what he’d been waiting for.

 

For the first few minutes, the change in formation seemed to make little difference. The Kingfield defenders were still trying to hoof the ball long. They weren’t making use of the width they had now. They weren’t making use of Jamie.

Time was running out. They had to start keeping the ball and creating some chances.

“Oi!” shouted Jamie. “Let’s get it wide, yeah? I’m free here!”

The next time the Kingfield left back, Steve Robinson, had the ball, Jamie came deep to collect it. As he ran, he could hear the Breswell defender following him. He was marking Jamie too closely.

In an instant, Jamie spun and exploded away in the other direction, back towards the Breswell goal.

“Yes!” he screamed as soon as he made his run in behind.

Steve Robinson had played with Jamie long enough to know what he wanted. He curled the ball down the line, bending it around the Breswell right back. It fell perfectly into Jamie’s path.

Jamie collected the ball. He was away. He purred down the line like a brand new Ferrari. He overtook all the defenders in his path.

He put on the brakes just before he reached the byline and dinked over a perfect cross to the far post, where Ash was waiting to receive it. Ash bent back his right foot and unleashed a low, hard volley across the goalkeeper. It was past him. Jamie raised his hands to start celebrating.

And then he put them on his head. The ball had hit the inside of the post and rebounded straight back into the keeper’s grateful hands.

Ash kicked the post in frustration. What did the frame of the goal have against Kingfield? What with Dillon’s header in the first half too, this was the second time the woodwork had stopped them from scoring.

Jamie wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He had an awful feeling that maybe this wasn’t Kingfield’s day.