Cheam M3s 4 -1 Wanderers M6s

With regular scribe Big Gun away, on-hand to give the match-reporting duties an articulate and timely refresh... He's the man on the campaign trail. Please put your trust in our your very own, Ted Szuman.

The equation of the match was simple yet critical, a win would see the Tweed Brigade promoted, a loss or draw would drag out the decision until the following week against Woking. Chatter amongst senior players was that Wanderers were their only real rivals in the league and one of the few teams to match Cheam’s guile, discipline and spirit. So if our merry band of heroes entered the Nonsuch cage with trepidation, their steely expressions and granite like resolve did not betray it.

Within the early minutes of the game Cheam’s free-flowing attacking opened up the opposition defence winning three penalty corners, two of which were converted. The first was a hard, flat pass from Coleman back to the injector, Mantle, whose inch-perfect reverse stick deflection diverted the ball goal-bound low at the left post. The second conversion was an identical copy of the first, highlighting the team’s ruthlessness under pressure.

A lull then ensued as Cheam’s back-line marshalled the pitch and controlled possession, allowing the team to carefully stalk their prey, assessing weaknesses and waiting for the moment to strike. Wanderers responded as a wounded animal would, lashing out in blind fury, crashing hopeful passes into the Cheam circle. One such lottery pass flew through a forest of sticks and bodies towards the Wanderers forward skulking on the post who was marked perfectly by Chris Blackmore. Both men lunged with their sticks as the ball fizzed past but it was the Wanderers’ stick that found a connection, deflecting the ball only just on target. The players’ reactions revealed everything. Wanderers displayed the kind of shock and delight that only winning a game of extreme chance can affect. Whereas Cheam were stoic in the face of such misfortune, the collective consciousness of the team certain in their destiny to march toward victory despite luck siding with the opposition.

Half-time allowed the team to discuss the intelligence that had been gathered in their periods of calm possession. Cheam’s Odysseus, James Mantle, had cleverly noted that the opposition centre backs’ distribution resulted in high-risk, low-quality passes to their left full-back. A plan was then hatched to swarm the unlucky left-back the moment he received a pass, in the hope the recover possession high and kill off the game in an efficient manner.

The stratagem worked perfectly. The Cheam forwards were flight of foot and sharp of mind and mercilessly executed the swarm. James Morris pounced on a moment’s indecision, stealing possession high and driving the ball at heart of the opposition defence at frightening pace. Morris’ trickery was too much for the opposition as he calmly rounded the goalkeeper and slotted the ball home.

Extended periods of possession and disciplined defending from the Cheam back line and midfield caused the opposition to crack once more. This time the ball was won in midfield, recycled into defence, sprayed wide and worked into the opposition circle in fluent team move. The final through pass to Richard Coleman was slightly off-target. Coleman adapted instantly, when in one clean move lifted the ball from behind himself, over his right foot and into his hitting arc, finally connecting with a full blooded cover-drive into the top right corner that left the keeper unable to react.

The remaining minutes of the game were played out in the same ruthless fashion, with all of Cheam’s heroes working hard until the final whistle to secure victory. Post-match celebrations upon gaining promotion were strangely subdued. It was the quietly confident celebration of a team who had met their individual and collective expectations, everyone understood not being promoted would have represented the team failing to achieve its potential. Winning a successive promotion was not an overachievement for this talented squad, it was their fate. A fate which they had all unconsciously acknowledged, accepted and shared. In that shared acceptance of their fate to succeed they will have discovered the true definition of what is means to be part of a team:

“Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, and do so with all your heart” Marcus Aurelius, Meditations