CHAPTER 39 #2
Wilkesboro stared at the wall for several seconds, then stepped back and paused. He took a sudden run and struck the ball hard. It ricocheted off the shoulder of a player as the crowd cried out for a handball and a penalty to no avail.
“The break's on!” David yelled.
Sweeper-keeper wannabe Ricky McQuillan was already on the halfway line, sprinting forward to reach the ball first. He thumped it down to the right.
It landed at the feet of Milne.
Town reassembled their defence.
Milne looked up, then kept running down the right.
93 mins gone.
Crawford and McKay had stayed up, leaving only Graham between our 'keeper and Town's final third.
Milne skipped past a defender, then crossed the ball into the middle.
A multitude of players rose in front of goal, trying to meet it.
It soared over them to the edge of the 6 yard box, where Wilkesboro met it with a diving header which sent the ball whizzing across the face of goal.
A Town defender booted it out for a corner.
I was chomping my manicured nails as the Broxburgh faithful cheered louder and more unanimously behind their team than they had all season, as Milne raced down to the flag.
He took the corner quickly.
The ref blew his whistle, stopping play. He had to step in to separate Wilkesboro and the goalkeeper in front of goal, both claiming the other was impeding them. And neither looking ready to back down.
It was wasting several more seconds.
McKay said something in DeShaun's ear.
My sphincter tightened.
The ref signalled for the corner to be retaken.
Milne swapped from his favoured right foot to his left, then sent the ball whipping into the box.
Players from both teams rushed into the mouth of the goal.
Wilkesboro sprang into the air.
The goalkeeper leapt to claim the ball at the same time.
Confusion reigned as both the 'keeper and Wilkesboro missed it.
Graeme Crawford powered his head to the ball and sent it straight into the centre of the net.
At last!
The home crowd roared, shaking the stand with the celebrations as Crawford led his team mates on a lap of honour.
David pulled me into him, mauling my body as he cheered.
My eyes were fixed over his shoulder.
Joe was screaming in the fourth official's face as he pointed at the goal.
“Something's wrong,” I said.
Town's goalkeeper and the rest of the team surrounded the ref.
“What?” David asked, relaxing his grip and following my stare.
Joe stepped aside the fourth official and sprinted onto the pitch.
Their goalkeeper was trying to show the ref how Wilkesboro had stopped him from claiming the ball.
“I think they're trying to say Wilkesboro was interfering with play,” said a nearby supporter.
Joe reached the fracas in the 6 yard box, berating the ref.
“So?” answered another. “He was onside, he can interfere all he wants!”
The referee showed Joe an instant yellow card and ordered him back to the touchline.
“Maybe he fouled the 'keeper, then?”
A couple of Town's players helped make Joe retreat.
“I'll foul you! Whose side are you on?”
Their captain was talking one-on-one with the ref as the goalkeeper stood a couple of yards away with his hands on his hips.
The ref listened, then nodded.
“Aw fuck,” David said. “He's gonna disallow this and give them a free-kick.”
I felt the perspiration in my palms as I looked at the clock. There was less than 60 seconds left to play.
The ref walked slowly to the side of the pitch to consult with his assistant as the ground fell into a prolonged silence.
The Broxburgh players stood together.
Both officials covered their mouths as they conversed.
“Please,” I said quietly.
The assistant pointed to his elbow, as if gesturing to suggest intention from Wilkesboro.
“It's not gonna stand.”
The ref turned around, started to jog, then pointed to the centre spot.
The crowd erupted in belated jubilation.
Joe was outraged.
“Who the fuck needs VAR to disrupt when you've a farce like that?” demanded a bemused fan behind me.
My lungs began to work again.
Twin Knox Town took the restart with the score 1-0 on the day, but 1-1 on aggregate. They looked like the stuffing had been knocked out of them, as they played safely back into their own half then tried a long ball to nobody.
The ref blew his whistle to bring the 90 minutes to a close.
Extra-time loomed.
I almost felt sympathy for Joe as he tried to console his broken players and plan for the next 30 minutes of play.
Meanwhile, Browne and Wilkesboro decided to make 3 substitutions for extra-time. It looked like our player-manager would be one of them, but instead Graham, Black and Williamson made way for Douglas Barton, Rory Adams and Campbell Shaw for a more streamlined midfield and defence.
“That's so fucking selfish,” David said, shaking his head. “All he wants is the glory-”
“David!” I squealed, my patience finally broken.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Don't take this the wrong way, but would you shut the fuck up about DeShaun?”
He looked at me for several seconds. “Okay.”
Broxburgh kicked off, with Wilkesboro passing to the fresher-legged Adams, who gave Barton his first touch.
Barton laid it off to goalscorer Crawford, who brought the ball forward as if unafraid of straying from defence.
He passed to Shaw. Shaw was full of steam and charged up the middle of the pitch, avoiding tackles and made a through ball to Martin 40 yards out from goal. He back-heeled it to Wilkesboro.
A Town defender intercepted.
Supporters in the Twin Knox Town end started singing, trying to get behind their team.
I listened as our own fans belted out a rendition of a new favourite which included the words “With our King and Queen in hand, no other team can withstand, Broxburgh, Broxburgh!”
David watched the pitch, pretending not to notice.
Shaw burst through the middle again and Martin tore a marker away from Wilkesboro. Wilkesboro tried to run on towards the box as Shaw released a devastating pass. Wilkesboro suddenly slowed up, limped and dropped to the ground.
Town cleared the ball.
Barton put it out of play.
DeShaun made a signal to the bench.
My gut was in turmoil.
Lee Browne already had defender Johnny Wood warming up, and called him back to the touchline.
Hilary Duncan made their way to DeShaun, immediately tending to his ankle.
He was shaking his head.
Hilary tried their best to work with him.
I could feel the fans around me looking, trying to gauge my reaction, and set my eyes on the clock. 6 minutes of extra-time had been played.
Martin and McKay helped DeShaun to his feet, then McKay alone assisted him off the pitch as Hilary shepherded them.
Wood replaced Wilkesboro, shoring up the defence.
McKay returned to the field as Hilary and DeShaun disappeared down the tunnel.
Play was restarted with a throw-in.
“We can wave bye-bye now,” David said.
“I thought I told you to shut up about him,” I replied. “And that's not very nice, David.”
“Not Wilkesboro, sweetie.” He pointed to DeShaun's girlfriend. “She's leaving.”
I pouted.
“She must be headed down to see him in the treatment room.”
I pulled my mobile out from my purse, ready to send a text. “Not when Willie gets a hold of her, she won't.”
With both teams a man down, caution was paramount in each side's play. Attacks were rare and neither side had registered a shot on goal when the ref brought the first period to a close.
Twin Knox Town kicked off after the teams swapped ends.
Wood played a pass sideways to Crawford.
He hit it back towards the goalkeeper, but his touch lacked power.
Town's striker was onto it in a flash and racing at goal.
McQuillan came out to narrow the angle. The Town number 9 punted the ball right and ran onto it, cracking a shot past the 'keeper with his left foot.
Skipper Blair McKay was back to clear it off the line.
“I can't take this,” I said, clutching my boyfriend's muscular arm. “I don't wanna think what'll happen if we go to a penalty shoot-out.”
McKay stayed down as the ball trickled out of play. McQuillan was back to help him with his cramp.
“Two hours of this is asking so much of these players.”
McKay made it up again 30 seconds later and the throw-in was taken by Town.
I checked my mobile and found a text from the physio.
HILARY – DeShaun's not good. He's had a reaction to the injections.
There was less than 10 minutes remaining. I was torn. Did I stay by David's side and watch the rest of the match? Or leave and go be with my ex?
I slipped my mobile back into my purse.
“What is it?” David asked.
I didn't answer him.
Barton battled high to win a header.
My mind was in two places.
Adams picked up the ball.
I was watching the play in front of me.
Adams squared it to Shaw.
But I couldn't stop imagining what was happening in the treatment room.
Shaw sought out Martin as the lone forward.
I heard my mobile begin to ring.
Martin held the ball, waiting for someone to join in him in support.
I hesitated.
Milne was coming in from a wide position.
I opened my purse and started to rummage for my phone.
Martin played the ball in front of Milne.
It stopped ringing before I could answer.
Milne entered the area in possession.
I looked at the screen and saw the missed call was from Jill McKay.
Milne's routed to goal was blocked.
I hadn't heard from Jill in months.
Martin was better placed.
Why would she call me out of the blue after so long?
Milne passed to Martin.
And why now of all times?
Martin fired a shot at goal.
I slipped my mobile away.
Lady Macbeth Park cried out as the ball soared over the bar.
Joe made another couple of changes to his side as the clock ticked ever closer towards penalties.
“Sasha,” David began tentatively, “we are still on for tonight, aren't we?”
“Yes,” I said, trying to focus.
One of Town's subs picked up a stray pass from Crawford down the wing and launched an immediate counter-offensive, overwhelming our defence.
“Why'd we have so many forward?” I demanded. “Time's almost up!”