Last night was amazing.
Some aging footballers, forced into a double header, back-to-back against teams much higher than them in the log, both of whom had fresh legs from not playing twice that evening, and from “being young”.
And yet, against all the odds, we came out with two huge wins.
It’s like a Hollywood movie script yet to be written.
The first match, surprising in its eventual 9-3 margin, and taking full advantage of the other side forced into capitulating early in the second half, was a masterclass in taking chances. I even scored a goal with my face.
The second one though, was arguably even better. A tight 4-3 win in a real slog of a game, which became bad tempered and downright nasty towards the end; our opponents’ arrogance clearly on display and their displeasure at getting beaten by a team of “whining old men” so very enjoyable to witness.
My left thigh is a complete mess of bruises this morning from their naughtiness (yes, I’m probably too old for this), but I’m wearing them like a (painful) badge of honour after another one of those great football nights.
And maybe there’s more we can learn from this, with a somewhat lop-sided rugby semi-final coming up. A triumph for the written-off underdog, through sheer will, determination, a never-say-die team spirit, the willingness to give it all for each other, and full commitment no matter what.
Or maybe that was just us last night.
But what a night.