The Crestwood field had never looked so neat before. Scouts, parents, locals, and journalists filled the touchlines, umbrellas and folding chairs shoulder to shoulder in a row. There were banners flowing, there were roaring voices, and the whole town of Eastfield was present. This was it—the finale of the season, Crestwood vs. Westford, and the winner takes the league.
Ethan stepped onto the pitch and looked around. The perfect grass, the roar of the home crowd, and the faces that were familiar in town and school all bombarded him simultaneously. Callum elbowed him in the back and showed him his grin. Mason snarled, "Let's make it count."
Standing in the dressing room a moment or two earlier, Coach Warren's words had cut through the noise outside.
"Everything you've worked for comes down to today. Stay brave, play our football, and trust each other. Westford are strong, but they don't have what you've got—a team, a town, a belief. Go make them proud."
The whistle blew, and the game was underway in a frenzy of speed. Westford came at Crestwood hard, trying to shut the home fans up from the beginning. In the 6th minute, their striker made a diving stop from the goalkeeper with a vicious shot. The home fans gasped, then screamed with urging.
"Focus!" Mason yelled, waving his arms and urging on his teammates.
Crestwood tried to settle, but the moment Ethan touched the ball, two Westford players descended on him. Callum got agitated, demanding the ball, but opportunities were scarce.
Then in the 14th minute, Westford scored. A corner was whipped over, their giant center-back jumped highest, and the ball hit the net with a thud. 1–0 Westford. The visiting supporters went berserk while there was a momentary silence among the Crestwood supporters.
Crestwood looked stunned for a moment, and then Mason slapped his hands. "It's one goal. Get it back!"
They gradually began getting their rhythm. Ethan fell further back to retrieve the ball, not creating issues and linking with Mason. At the 26th minute, Ethan noticed Callum making a run and sent a nimble pass between two defenders. Callum shot low, but the Westford goalkeeper blocked it using his legs. There were groans across the field.
But Crestwood persisted. In the 34th minute, Mason was through on a wayward pass and ran down the field. He played in Ethan, who beat one defender before chipping an exquisite ball to Callum. This time Callum smashed it into the bottom corner. 1–1. The Crestwood ground erupted, the crowd leaping out of their seats, screaming louder than ever.
Callum sprinted to the corner flag, arms open wide, while Ethan raised his right fist in triumph. Mason cried out, "That's it! That's our football!"
The applause had barely faded when Westford hit back. At the 42nd minute, their winger came roaring down the left, bypassed the full-back, and sent over a cross. Their striker read it to perfection and thumped it in. 2–1 Westford. Heavy gloom fell this time.
Halftime came with Crestwood trailing, the crowd restless but still chanting encouragement. In the changing room, the boys sat with heads down, breathing heavily, mud streaked across their kits.
Coach Warren broke the silence. "You've been here before. One goal down. Forty-five minutes to make yourselves champions. Play with courage, play together, and you'll turn this around. The league title is out there waiting. Go take it."
Ethan looked at Callum and Mason. Half left. Half to save the dream.