The comfortable 2-0 win over Greenford helped the team settle in, but the league table remained a tight race. Crestwood held second place, just behind Riverton on goal difference. The strong, undefeated Ashbourne trailed them by only two points.
The whole week of training focused on one goal, breaking down the Ashbourne defense.
"Listen up," Coach Shaw called, pausing a drill. "Ashbourne has allowed only three goals all season. They are organized and patient, and they don't make mistakes. They'll try to frustrate you. They want you to attempt a reckless shot from thirty yards or an unnecessary pass. Don't fall into that trap. We win this game by using our heads and being patient. We move the ball, wear them out, and wait for the right moment. Understood?"
For Ethan, this was a new kind of challenge. He felt sharp both physically and mentally. His new routine with school and rest was solid. But this match wouldn't be won with the explosive creativity he'd shown against Greenford. It would require strategy.
The bus ride to Ashbourne was quiet and tense. Their stadium was impressive, small, and enclosed, which made the crowd feel close to the players. From the first whistle, the game followed Coach Shaw's predictions: it became a frustrating, tactical struggle.
Ashbourne set up in a tightly organized 4-5-1 formation. Every time Ethan got the ball, two players quickly blocked his passing lanes instead of trying to tackle him. Callum made sharp runs, but the Ashbourne defense was deep and disciplined, catching him offside twice in the first half. Mason and Jake engaged in a tough battle in midfield, winning the ball back only to see their attacks fizzle against the blue wall.
At halftime, the score stood at 0-0. The locker room felt tense. "They're doing exactly what we expected," Coach Shaw said calmly. "And we're starting to get frustrated. I see you forcing plays," he said, looking at Ethan and Callum. "Be patient. It only takes one chance. Don't force it; create it."
The second half continued in the same way. The clock passed 70 minutes and then 80. The 0-0 score felt like it would never change. Ethan sensed the old pressure rising in his chest—the urge to try a miraculous pass, to dribble through three defenders, to make something happen. He took a deep breath, pushed the feeling down, and made a simple, lateral pass to his fullback. Patience.
In the 86th minute, the moment finally arrived, not with a bang but quietly. After a sustained period of Crestwood possession, Ethan received the ball 25 yards out. The defense was in place, and he saw no opening. Instead of forcing a play, he passed back to Mason. Mason took a touch and sent it wide to the winger. The winger, seeing no alternative, passed it back to Ethan.
This quick, triangular movement had subtly shifted Ashbourne's midfield, pulling their holding player just a yard out of position. That was all Ethan needed.
He took one touch forward, moving into the space. The center-back stepped up to meet him. Instead of trying to beat him, Ethan used him as a shield, sliding a simple, disguised pass into the gap for Callum, who had anticipated it.
Callum was through. The keeper charged out. Remembering the lessons of the past weeks, Callum saw the angle was tight. He selflessly cut the ball back to the penalty spot, where Jake, the team captain who had surged forward, met it with a powerful shot that rippled the back of the net.
The Crestwood bench erupted. The 1-0 lead, won from the brink of a stalemate, felt like a championship victory. The team defended fiercely in the frantic final minutes, and the final whistle brought a collective roar of triumph.
On the bus home, the tired players slumped over their seats, but the atmosphere was electric. "That," Mason said, his voice hoarse from cheering, "is a championship winning goal." Ethan just smiled, leaning his head against the window. He hadn't scored or even assisted. But he knew, with quiet certainty, that his simple, patient play had been the key that unlocked the door. He had won the chess match.