The room was quiet. Joel on the bench at the back with his head between his knees. Konaté next to him with a hand on the back of his neck.
Mama crossed the room. Pulled Joel up by the front of the shirt. Spoke quietly so Joel had to lean in.
"Look at me, Joel."
Joel looked at him.
"I have lost more matches than you have played. The match is the match. Today is not you."
"Mama."
"Listen. I left Konaté on the wrong post on the corner because I went short with the ball. I left him. That is the goal. The goal is mine before it is yours. Wayne saved the first. Ashley Barnes was Ashley Barnes. The eleven of us did not have the legs after Wembley. That is the match."
"Yeah."
"Sit."
Joel sat. Konaté put his hand back on the neck.
Mama did not say anything else for a moment.
"We win as a team. We lose as a team. We get on the bus."
He sat down on the bench between Wilf and Christopher.
I had not been expecting Mama to make the speech. I let the room sit.
