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10 minutes left and another season of promise seemed to be spluttering out amid the mud, the ref, bigger more streetwise players putting my skillful darlings under pressure until they cracked. The fifth penalty went over and suddenly one moment of magic wouldn't be enough. At this point, every other Sarries team I've watched would have folded. Every other team would take this as a chance to go on a losing streak to end all streaks and just squeak clear of relegation on the final day.
Not this team. The restart was high, so very high but at the same time seemed innocuous until the Gloucester player fatally took his eye off it and knocked on. Game on. Field position gained 10 minutes of spirited attacking ensued but everything just seemed to lack that final piece of quality, balls were spilt, dropped and not taken care of in any direction. With one minute left we turned it over and Mercier, thumped the ball into the stand way back into our half. But what! It hadn't bounced and the throw in was with good field position. Players and crowd alike roused themselves for the climactic, hopefully defining moments. The ball moves from left to right and back again but with no chink in the stout Gloucester defence, I begin to rationalise that they almost deserve it. And suddenly Andy Farrell, £250,000 worth of rugby league gold takes the ball at pace and in the same movement fires out a bullet of a pass some twenty meters with one lazy hand. Everyone turns, nobody else had seen the three forwards loitering out wide, there's only one man on them, all they need to do is pass and run and they do, and they don't and Chesney has three men on him as he crosses the line and scores the try. I jump in the air and don't come down, the people sitting next to me are carrying me, it's roy of the rovers stuff. 131 years of mediocrity might be over this year. As I fall down I skin my shin badly but am strangely happy. Most of the team seem to have jumped on top of Chesney.
But still, there's the kick to come and a game to be won. We'd forgotten, and there's a terrible lurch when we all know it could be taken away, the kick's in the corner, not difficult but tricky. It'll be the last act of the game. Jackson comes from the beautifully named Bay of Plenty so of course he slots it. And they're dancing in the streets of Watford tonight. |
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