Quarterfinals

A day of high drama. From the very beginning…

The 4s began to congregate at the pitch, which turned out to be in no means a small feat in itself. First, there was the tortuous trail through the labyrinthine corridors of Mary Erskine school, and the cunningly mis-labelled changing rooms surely designed to confuse all opposition teams. Then the sauna-like changing room and comparison of war wounds from the previous game on Saturday (Liv won). And finally, not to be outdone, the rousing pre-match GetchaGameFacesOn speech from Captain Catie, ably assisted by Julia (If you don’t feel like you’re about to die you’re not trying hard enough). But wait, there was still more – turns out, we have secretly (well maybe not so secretly) been harbouring the English reincarnation of Sir Alex Ferguson. Our very own Jodie, having launched an all-out espionage campaign to figure out the players and tactics of the opposition, calmly announced she would ‘run the bench’, which as it turns out, actually meant she would lead a critical, play-creating, opposition-destroying tactical bombardment from the sidelines….surely we couldn’t fail? But Hollywood was not done with us yet…at the last moment, as we strode out to the pitch (well to the wrong pitch, but that is a minor detail)…a glamourous redhead, styling shades (and actually better war wounds than Liv) appeared out of the sunlight, dropped her stick bag, and demanded to know where her Sweaty Betty sports bra was. Mel was here, having braved the perils of public transport from Aberdeen (‘oh you’d like to take a train the whole way to Edinburgh? Well, no madam, that is a frankly ridiculous request, but please feel free to step on to this manky bus for many hours’), and so, team complete, we found the right pitch, and prepared to meet our destiny…

Destiny, as it turned out, did not favour us in the first few moments after the whistle. Despite having stared at the play as it literally happened, I am still not entirely clear what did happen, except that someone from the other team seemed to manage to saunter down the pitch, weave a few neatly placed moves, and slam the ball into the back of our goal. Arse. I think was the general feeling from the 4s at this point. But, heads up, with Sir Alex yelling encouragement (despite I think secretly wanting to strangle us all), we regained our composure, and launched into a fully-fledged attempt to redeem ourselves. And so, throughout the first half, there was some beautiful play; superb defending from Captain Catie, Jude and new recruits Hannah and Jena (from the 5s, we love the 5s), linking up with the flying Jen and Jenny delivering their usual display of terrier-like tackling and thoughtful clearing of the ball up to midfield and beyond. The wings and mid were running hard, and thankfully with Sir Alex was making sure the bench leapt up to fill any signs of flagging legs/lungs/elbows/knees (more about knees later), so that Checks, Julia, Mel and Kirsty (from the 5s, did I mention we love the 5s?) could play to their full potential, which they did with grit and elegance – the perfect combination. Heather was her usual sterling self, driving play up the field, and linking up with Liv, Michelle and Lucy (from the 5s! we love the 5s!) to trouble the opposition’s defence, with several close calls, shots on goal and winning a few short corners. But the frustration built as the clock ticked, not least for Sir Alex who was fine-tuning the positions and tactics of the 4s with great effect, but in the end the half-time whistle blew and we remained 1-0 down. Let us never mention that goal again.

Captain Catie led a heart-warming half-time debrief and rabble-rousing pep talk – reminding us all that we could win this, we had been here before, and that it was all there for the taking. And she had oranges for us. And sweeties. Then it was Sir Alex’s turn – a critical analysis of the play so far, with great insight in to where we needed to pressure and adapt to push home our advantage. I can’t remember exactly what that insight was, but I definitely remember being Very Impressed at the time.

So – back on to the pitch, or the astro-pitch of dreams as it was shortly to become – and after some hard yards defending some great attacks from the opposition (Captain Catie having an absolute blinder!) and Saskia making some crucial saves under pressure – Kirsty (from the 5s, did I mention the 5s?) drove up field with a lovely breakaway, passing the opposition and running away from the chase, to launch herself into the D and deliver a neat move to land the ball in the back of the goal – 1-1! We love the 5s! Play continued, with good runs back and forth from both teams, and at this point I really struggle to pull out individuals to mention, (no – not because I have forgotten what happened, ahem) but because the whole team, fuelled and steered by the increasingly agitated Sir Alex (agitated in a good way, a jumpy up and down you go girls way) was playing brilliant, cohesive hockey, finding each other in space, linking up, making the tackles and winning those 50:50 balls. Sterling stuff. But Perthshire were not done with us yet, they continued to drive up the pitch, troubling our defence with some neat play from a few key players, and were rewarded with a second goal, sneaking past our defence, around 15 minutes from full time.

Ok, deep breaths. All eyes to Sir Alex, who shook up the bench, and with a few key words of encouragement, ably assisted by Jude’s own (slightly more vociferous) yells of encouragement (not at all related to a certain decision regarding a short corner in the final minutes) directed play from the sidelines to drive the 4s up the field again and again. And no-one was at all distracted by the ridiculously cute puppy on the side of the pitch (Jen, ahem). But time was pressing. Surely just a few minutes left on the clock? More manic defending as Perthshire tried to find another goal, but the 4s defence was Not Going To Let That Happen – so much so that Captain Catie left most of her knees on the pitch as she delivered Not Today tackles time and time again. Sir Alex weighed up her options, and delivered a final tactical change, launching Heather up the pitch to force our advantage home…meanwhile, Jude, whose agitation (and volume) had been building, spied a gap, and fired a hard ball straight up the left-mid, finding Heather, who threw herself into the D and slammed the wee round thing into the back of the boards – 2-2, in what really was the very last minute of the game! Cue, A Lot of celebrating, yelling, squealing, hugging and over all joyous outbursts from the 4s, and the final whistle.

Captain Catie herded her team over to Sir Alex, whereupon we launched into an intense run down of flicks. Penalty flicks. You know, those terrifying, solo, give the goalie a heart attack, don’t be like Gareth Southgate, flicks. Eek, I think, was the general feeling. But Captain Catie and Sir Alex took hold of the nerves, and before we knew it we had 5 volunteers, and a seriously pumped up goalie who I think we were all having to restrain ourselves from performing chest pumps with (or was that just me?). We lined up at the twenty, with a set of demeanours ranging from fierce to quivery to calm to shaking, asides from Saskia, who strode over to the goal like she Owned It. Which, of course, she did. So, first up Heather. There really was never any doubt (and we have the videos to prove it). Then Jenny and Liv, who were Never Going To Miss, because, well that just aint an option when you’ve got your badass game face on. In the meantime, Perthshire had also stepped up – but the sight of a determined Saskia in goal clearly put off their first flick taker so she aimed so far into the corner she found the post – and I am pretty sure Saskia had it covered anyway. Their second and third flicks went in, but barely, with Saskia getting a stick on one, and coming within a whisker of keeping it out. So, 3-2 to the 4s. And then…the 5s. Have I mentioned the 5s? Because we really really love them. Lucy and Kirsty stepped up – Lucy first, finding the back of the goal, after a pep talk from Jude worthy of Michelle Obama. Then Perthshire scored, again barely scraping past Saskia, and so, 4-3 to the 4s. Calmness descended as Kirsty headed to the spot (following another pep talk from Jude, ably channelling, I’m pretty sure, the Dalai Lama) whereupon Sir Alex calmly announced (very quietly) that if she made it, we had won. Quivering, holding of breath and hands – while Kirsty calmly strode up to the spot, lined up her stick, and slammed her flick in the back of the goal like she could do it all day long. Ahhhhh the 5s – I think most of us we were about ready to officially adopt them at this point. And so, 5-4 on flicks, 2-2 at full-time, and a team effort such that dreams are made of (and very, very long match reports).

Boo yah.

Thank you to Iain for umpiring.