The bus journey to Riverton was one of the most weighty. It was understood by all that this was no run-of-the-mill game—this was a six-pointer. Riverton were sitting just behind Crestwood and Westford in the standings, and a win for them would throw the title race wide open big time.
Coach Warren was at the front of the bus before they left. His tone was soothing, but his eyes betrayed the seriousness of the occasion. "Riverton are straightforward, physical, and clinical. They'll press and attempt to bully us off the ball. But you've shown you can match any side in this league. Just remain calm, remain clever, and play our football. Have belief in yourselves."
The Riverton presentation was electric. Their supporters filled the touchlines, waving flags and abusing, creating one of the most intimidating atmospheres Crestwood had been in all season.
Riverton began at a blistering pace from the whistle. Their midfield pressed high, hitting into tackles. In the 7th minute, their striker forced the Crestwood keeper into a diving save after a neat interchange down the right.
Crestwood lost their flow. Callum barely saw the ball, Mason was harried at every opportunity, and Ethan was double-marked every time he touched it.
Riverton broke through in the 21st minute. A left-wing corner swung in, causing chaos inside the box, and their captain loomed above the rest to nod in. 1–0 Riverton. The stadium erupted.
For a moment, Crestwood heads dropped, but Mason clapped his hands and barked, "Lift it! We've been here before!"
The response came in the 33rd minute. Ethan finally found a pocket of space and turned quickly, slipping Callum through on goal. Callum smashed it past the keeper into the bottom corner. 1–1. Crestwood players sprinted to celebrate, silencing the Riverton crowd for a moment.
Halftime was tied. In the locker room, Coach Warren had little to say: "Keep possession. Don't hurry. A good chance will come—take advantage of it."
The second half was just as intense. Riverton was determined to commit to pouring forward and insisting on getting back up front. In the 54th minute, their striker bent a shot into the post, Crestwood hearts in throats.
Then in the 62nd minute, Crestwood responded. Mason stole the ball from a defender in midfield and released immediately to Ethan. Ethan outpinned one defender, then another, before laying the ball off to the right winger. The cross was smashed in for Callum, who headed it in for his second of the match. 2–1 Crestwood.
Riverton pushed everything up. Long balls, crosses, corners—it would not relent. Ethan dropped deeper to help out with the defense, Mason screamed himself hoarse organizing the midfield, and Callum tired himself out tiring their defenders out.
In the 79th minute, Riverton threatened to yet again equalize, but a goal-line clearance from the Crestwood center-back saved the day.
The final minutes dragged, every second feeling like an eternity. When the referee finally blew the whistle, the Crestwood players collapsed onto the muddy pitch, drained but victorious.
Riverton 1 Crestwood 2.
Mason grinned through heavy breaths. "That's what champions do, win ugly."
Callum wiped mud off his face, smirking. "Ugly? I'd say my brace was beautiful."
Ethan just smiled, weary but victorious. They had weathered one of the toughest road trips of the year, and for the first time, the championship really looked like it could be theirs.