This was always likely to happen. After the celebrations of Saturday, it felt like the mind was willing, but the body was weak — we moved the ball sharply enough, but without any real penetration or those runs that turn possession into chances. Off the pitch, too, it was a little jaded. With nearly 900 in attendance, many seemed to be there for the trophy lift, with the football a mere sideshow as people chatted away as if they were at the cricket.
In the first half Sonny Wheeler was forced into a good save, but very little else happened, and we went in at half-time at 0–0.
The second half was spearheaded by a quadruple change, and it gave us more energy going forward. Breckon took a cross to feet and placed his shot just wide five minutes after the restart. Had that gone in, it might have crushed the spirits of our guests, but they fought on and got the opener when we lost the ball deep in our own half. It looked like we’d survived the initial attack, but a well-placed strike found the far corner. 0–1.
All of a sudden there was a blemish on the cup — a greasy fingerprint that would be hard to buff off in the photos — so we pressed for an equaliser. Eventually it came, late in added time, when Barrington fired a powerful shot that could only be parried into the path of Jordan. From a tight angle he found the back of the net, sending the Met Police to their knees in disappointment. 1–1. A minute later we had a throw-in and, with Barrington, sent the long ball, but it was too close to the ‘keeper and any fairytale finish was lost.
Then we moved into the ceremony, with a plinth erected on the halfway line. It was great to be there when the cup was finally lifted. I say finally, because each player introduction felt like it took an age — I forgot whether this was for winning the league or whether we’d drifted into July and somehow won the Advertiser Trophy.
All in all, a good day. Such a good day, I realised about 30 minutes after getting home that I couldn’t find my cycle helmet. I still don’t know whether I left it at the ground and cycled home without it, or whether I’ve misplaced it somewhere around the house…
Onto the weekend, when we look to get back to winning ways and try to work on a couple more milestones — 100 goals, and Hogan’s Golden Boot.