(Scorers: Radigan 2’; Ntini 10’, 60’, 82’; Muralt 70’)
It was quite simply one of the most exciting championship football matches ever played in recent history.
May 26, 1999: Manchester United – FC Bayern Munich, Champion’s League Final, Camp Nou, Barcelona.
May 13, 2006: Liverpool-West Ham, FA Cup Final, Millenium Stadium, Cardiff, Wales.
July 9, 2008: FC77 Rangers vs. FC Bridgetown, GPSD O-30 Third Division Rose City Final, Delta Park #8, Portland Oregon.
Oh yeah. It was that good.
I’m actually running out of metaphors to illustrate the magnitude of the match.
Despite being without Gary Foubister (work), James McConnachie (travel), and Ron King (suspension), ‘Gers fielded a comfortable complement of fifteen, marking the first season in many, many years when the team didn’t play short all campaign long. The starting XI included Berg in his final appearance as goalkeeper; Pullen, Bauman, Calkins, and Seaton at fullback; Snyder, Radigan, Muralt, and Lemos as midfielders (although Dario did roam pretty freely for most of the first half); and Ntini and Burden as forwards. Ingersoll, Fahrbach, Vogel, and Sibanda were the reserves for a 7:00 p.m. kick-off that included a record two dozen supporters, including representatives from FC77 squads Old Nicks, Newcastle and PBR as well as Mojos. Kyle Gunsul, still recovering from multiple surgeries, also came to give voice to the squad as did several family members. Ingersoll’s promised pre-match pep talk was surprisingly brief given the fact that he had been working on it for five straight days: “Guys, it’s been a great run and whatever happens here is just icing on the cake. Let’s have fun and whatever happens, well, what the hell.”
“What the hell” became “WHAT THE HELL?!” in a matter of just two minutes as ‘Gers intercepted the Bridgetown kick-off, fed it down the field along the near side and found Radigan charging through the middle of the box. Deftly taking the pass on his right and then sharply juking left, Radigan killed the play with a shot to the left side of the goal. The snap of the net stunned the home side and brought the FC77 bench to hoarse delight. AJ, FC77 PBRmy field marshal and most vocal fan, let roar with a cry of “GOOOOOAAAAALLLLL!” that lasted, in all honesty, a solid 45 seconds. Seriously. (You try it—not as easy as it seems.) Having breached Bridgetown’s defenses in just under 120 seconds, ‘Gers quickly began to think that just playing for a respectable loss was not necessarily the best possible result. The lead doubled around minute ten when Burden, sliding wide left, took a pass and dropped one of his typical tasty crosses into the box. The cross became a shot when the keeper bit on it and, bobbling the catch, allowed Ntini to kick the ball back into the goal. Bridgetown protested vociferously but the referee would have none of it and denied their appeals with a pantomimed juggling motion that proved he knew the keeper did not have possession. Rangers 2, Bridgetown 0 after ten minutes. At that point, the unspoken thought started to spread along the sidelines: “Holy bleep! We could actually win this thing!”
Bridgetown proved they would not go quietly into that good night and the next fifteen minutes revealed the squad we had seen before. Several attacks pushed ‘Gers back onto the defensive as the league leaders started to funnel their attacks through their potent striker Josh. Beating the trap, he was denied a goal only by Berg’s quick movement off the line and subsequent clearance to the outside...and soon thereafter by a frantic scramble as Calkins, Bauman and Pullen threw themselves in rapid succession at the shot. Realizing that 90% of their offense was in their striker, Lemos started channeling his roving play toward him and frequently played him man on man. Around the twenty-fifth minute Bridgetown strung together a series of passes, released Josh on a footrace, and he scored. Not a single Ranger hung their heads as they lined up for the restart. Muralt, Sibanda, Ingersoll and even Seaton all took shots at the Bridgetown goal from various distances but couldn’t yet find the third. Bridgetown responded and shuttled a short run along the far side, turning the midfielder and heading into the box. With the striker running along the end line, Berg started screaming: “Challenge him! Challenge him! Take him out!” Bauman obliged and wiped out everything in a six foot swath from the edge of the six yard box to the end line—all ball, a lot of player, and a hell of a tackle. ‘Gers cleaned up the corner kick and went into half up 2-1.
Various tactical and motivational methods were reviewed in the team huddle. Power bars were offered up, spectator support was received warmly, and the sides went back onto the clover pitch with only 45 minutes to settle it all. Mike Calder, FC77 Newcastle manager and former GPSD member, had brought a trophy, old and dusty, at Ingersoll’s request so on the off-chance the squad won, they had something to hoist and celebrate. Standing among the empty Gatorade bottles, unused kits and jerseys, the 36” tall trophy, for all its height, generated little comment. Perhaps nobody wanted to jinx the match. Perhaps everybody was so fixed on the match they didn’t notice it. Perhaps I’m reading way too much into this for the sake of dramatic literary transition from the first half to the second, but regardless, the dusty little soccer figurine at the top of the trophy was tantalizingly close, but perhaps 45 minutes too far.
(Not bad, eh? Eh?)
Both sides threw everything they had at each other right from the start. With Bauman and Pullen shouting directions from the back and keeping the defensive shape tight, Rangers attacked every ball in the air, on the ground, and at the player. Snyder executed more than a few textbook slide tackles and even took a cleat slash to the top of the nose. Pullen and Calkins played their markers hard and kept fighting for the ball even after they had been knocked down. Lemos dedicated his efforts to containing Josh 100% of the time and helped clog the middle. Honestly, every single player left everything they had on the pitch. Bridgetown strikers were taken down and out by one and two ‘Gers defenders at a time—sometimes simultaneously. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen two guys tackle a player at the same time...and then have a third defender sweep in and take the ball out. Radigan and Muralt owned the air in the middle. Vogel and Fahrbach made life miserable for the other team with persistent challenges, tackles, and clearances down their lines. Burden, playing striker, would frequently drop back and attack Bridgetown ball handlers from behind. Sibanda would change up the direction of play and release Ntini on dancing runs along the outside. Frustrated by their lack of containment, the opposition often resorted to pulling Ntini down. A free kick from one such foul (earning Bridgetown a caution) drifted left over the mixer and found Snyder, rushing forward from his wing back position, who headed the ball past the keeper—only to have the goal called off inexplicably for offside. Ntini was similarly robbed by the linesboy on at least two other occasions. Despite the team’s efforts, Bridgetown released Josh on another sprint to the goal (he really is fast) and he equalized. 2-2. From the sidelines, the dream scenario seemed to be slipping away, if just a bit. Fahrbach asked the manager if extra time would be played with a tie at the end of regulation.
“No, the ref said we’ll go to straight to penalty kicks.”
“Do you have shooters picked out?”
“Yeah. Maybe it won’t come to that.”
Just a few minutes later, almost as if on cue, Ntini broke through the Bridgetown line, the linesboy kept his flag down, and two cuts along the right gave him a clean look at goal. The keeper had no chance as the shot snapped past him. The crowd roared with delight again and the Yellow and Black reclaimed the lead...
...far too briefly. Rallying their own run, Bridgetown sent a midfielder wide to the corner and deposited a cross back into coverage. The bouncing ball found a non-Josh attacker who got a foot to it and slotted it low left. 3-3 in the 69th minute. Perhaps penalties would settle it after all...
...or perhaps not. Taking the kick-off, Muralt trapped the ball just inside the center line, maybe ten yards in from the side and launched the now legendary shot that effectively killed Bridgetown’s spirit. A kick that rivaled former Ranger Andre Debar’s 45 yard strike at Hillsboro Stadium boomed over the entire Bridgetown team and started dropping toward the goal. Was it a cross? Was it a shot? I believe Muralt even apologized as it started to drop from orbit. “Sorry, guys,” he said as the keeper continued to track it back...back...and then lunged up...only to have the ball, the beautiful gold and black match ball, crash into the net like a synthetic leather artillery shell and effectively explode any hope of another rally. As the bench screamed in almost girlish delight, Lemos ripped off his shirt and started the mad celebration around Muralt. I believe at that moment every Ranger on the field finally knew we were going to win. A goal such as this deserves a name, like “The Hand of God Goal”.
I shall christen it “Death From Above” because it killed off Bridgetown once and for all. And because “Matt Muralt’s Really Awesome Super Long Goal From Midfield” doesn’t sound half as cool.
Ntini collected his hat trick just eight minutes from time with another waltzing run through, around, and behind the defense after a delightful pass from the midfield. The squad locked down play for the remaining eight minutes. Josh had one more stabbing attack and got one on one with Berg, who, fittingly, made the last save of his Ranger career a highlight reel move by making himself big and then cutting back to his left to catch a near point blank shot that was blasted to the far corner. Josh slid to the ground and thumped the grass in frustration. A few more clearances, some furtive glances by the referee at his watch and then the three most beautiful sounds the team has ever heard...a trio of whistle blasts to end the match.
“Do you believe in miracles? YES!”
The squad shook hands with the opposition, Lemos tore off his jersey again, and somebody collected the match ball. Calder came onto the field with the trophy. “Where do you want to do this? In front of goal or right here?” “Here” was a section of grass not too far from where Muralt had launched “Death From Above.”
“Here” would work.
The squad gathered around. Ingersoll clutched the dirty statue, almost half as tall as him. Family members and club players formed a small group in front of the beaming team. Shutters snapped and flashes erupted. Calder and David Porter raised their cameras as the Rangers closed ranks and started patting the golden figurine topper. “We should bite it, like Wimbledon,” somebody cracked. Calder asked if we were ready for the shot. “Ready?”
The manager smiled and posed the trophy boldly in front of team:
“RANGERS!”
FC77 RANGERS
GPSD Spring 2008
Over-30 Third Division Rose City
DIVISION CHAMPIONS
I hope you have enjoyed this season as much as I have. We were a true “rags to riches”/Cinderella/”Rudy”/Insert Improbable Sports Cliché Here story...going from 0-4 to 5-5 to beating the undefeated leader of our division. When the season started, I had three goals:
1. Make sure we field at least eleven players every match. Check.
2. Try and win half of our matches. Check.
3. Beat the Azzurri. Check and mate.
More than that, I hope everybody had a good time and enjoyed themselves. I try really hard to make sure we don’t have any jerks on the team—you know my motto by now—and I look at the way we get along in victory and defeat and, compared to some of the other squads we played, I think we are doing all right. By just getting to the championship, we are approximately three and a half years ahead of schedule according to my master five year plan. With our win comes promotion into O-30 Division 2, which will be tough. Probably really tough. But you know, it’s all football, so it’s all good. Think of it as a chance to get even with Rose and Thistle. Whatever.
Best of luck to Steve Berg and Dario Lemos, who are leaving us for the distant lands of Las Vegas and Canada, respectively. You will be sorely missed and I’ll leave a standing spot on the club for both of you should you decide to return.
Rangers, you guys are the best. Thanks for all of your support, paying your player fees in a timely manner, offering good suggestions and keeping all the awesome post-match email strings resoundingly positive. Some guys define or see themselves in terms of their work. Not me. I totally see myself in terms of how I play.
And Seanny’s got the best teammates around!
Enough of the heartfelt mush. Take care of yourselves...
...fall season starts in a month and a half.
Cheers,
Sean
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