The apparition was Rio Ferdinand. He looked around the room at the downcast faces and he laughed out loud. He found them pathetic, and said as much.
They were momentarily stunned by his sudden manifestation, but soon the mist of mystery cleared and they began to ask pertinent questions.
How do we save the club?
How do we save United?
Ferdinand began to lift up his hand, as though to make a gesture, but he paused mid-air, and laughed again.
You're all a bunch of fools. He said.
The room fell dead silent.
They only had 15 minutes for the break but it seemed an eternity passed before Ferdinand opened his mouth to speak again.
You say, you want to save the club? But you go out there and do the very thing you are fighting against? You go out there and play to win? You are fools! It's never about winning! Ferdinand said this and hit his hands agains his chest.
It's about love for the game. If you must go out there, you must go out there with a heart full of love, not one of competition, you must not see your backslidden team mates as threats to be eliminated, but friends to be reaquainted with.
Just then Rio Ferdinand dematirialised again and the rebellion was left in silence.
Rooney was the first to break it.
You heard him boys, let's get back out there, but not to win: to love.
Second half began.
Michael Carrick passed the ball to Rooney. Rooney returned the ball to Carrick. Carrick fed a long ball back to Young. Young gave the ball back to Rooney.
Rooney was dead calm.
His breath was easy.
He moved lightly as a feather in a gale. Before him he did not see defenders, or obstacles, he saw colleagues, more so, he saw brothers. He got to the 10 metre box almost effortlessly. His foot struck the ball, and it found the lower right net. Just out of the reach of the keeper.
It was a goal!
The coach smirked at this. He wasn't worried. Not yet at least.
Ander was at it again, he cut through the midfield like a chopping knife, sprinting. His shot was from a long way out. Van Der Sar saw it coming. He managed to tap it out. Scholes was there for the rebound, but there were too many defenders on him. He lost the ball, it found it's way back to the feet of Rooney.
Rooney ran with it. He ran like he had never run his whole life, like a certain darkness chased after him. And indeed it did.
He had barely made his way into the penalty box when a careless tackle brought him down. There were no arguments. It was a foul. Rooney got a free kick. The keeper flew in the opposite direction. Rooney had scored the second goal! Presently all they needed was a third goal to clinch the win.
The yellow jerseys rejoiced, but as Rooney jumped up triumphantly, he realised that he had been hurt by the tackle. His left leg hurt. He turned to Van Der Sar.
Van Der Sar saw his predicament.
They switched places. Van Der Sar went out to strike, Rooney-a terror to the post-stood in defence of the post.
The game began again.
Both sides gave it everything they had. Fatigue set in, but neither side faltered. The lemon green side would push and the yellow side would push back. Rooney watched all of this, hoping the other side wouldn't test his goal keeping ability.
But seconds later. They did.
They tore through the defence with a set of sleek passes. It was tic tac toe, just a little bit more sophisticated. Rooneys head was spinning, but he managed to keep the ball out the net.
Time was ticking, the game was almost over. The next goal would be the decisive one. Rooney shot the ball far wide.
Van Der Sar with long legs outpaced his marker and found the ball.
There was one minute left,
Van Ser Sar ran. He could feel two players hounding him, but he kept his balance and focused on the ball in front of him. Finally, it was just him and the young keeper, De Gea. Van Der Sar knew how the fledgling would think. So he stopped abruptly, mid-sprint. The defenders unwittingly ran past him and blocked the view of the young goal keeper.
Van Der Sar struck the ball, it flew through the air like a missle in slow motion. It torpedoed-spinning as it went. The young keeper jumped a split second too late, but the tip of his finger still grazed the ball.
It wasn't enough.
The ball found a cozy corner of the net. The pitch grew cold. The coach sprang up to his feet and ran over to the post. Rooney as well left his station, as did Carrick and other members of the rebellion. They all gathered round Van Der Sar and the coach.
A frown was set in the Coaches face. He seemed sour displeased. But then members of the lemon green side began to hug members of the yellow side, and a smile slowly crept onto the coaches face.
And so it was that finally, the war was over. The occupants of Old Trafford, became one again.
"A kingdom divided against itself cannot stand"- Jesus Christ.
No comments:
Post a Comment