SAAC Football Championship Final, Quito, November 2012: “It’s not the winning…”

“It’s not the winning, it’s the taking part that counts.” This is a statement that I had always viewed with skepticism—it had always seemed like a convenient excuse for not being quite good enough. However, last year’s SAAC Football Championship changed my thinking on that forever.

We knew from the moment we beat the American School of Quito in the final of the SAAC Soccer Championship in Buenos Aires in 2011, that we would have to re-double our efforts to retain our hold on the championship. Our opposition in the first group game was Quito and they had given us a massive scare by putting three goals passed us in 13 minutes. I remember looking at Coach Arle and Coach Hancock who were just as baffled as I to find ourselves in such a predicament after all of the pre-season training we had done. However, the boys showed great resolve and after losing 4-1 in that opening game they held themselves together and went on a running streak that continued in to the final where, as fate would have it, we ended up meeting, and beating, Quito.

Fast- forward a year to November 2012: lightning striking twice would seem like a very apt metaphor, especially given the stormy conditions of the final that year. We had already played, and been beaten by Quito in the group stages. However, like the year before, we battled through and found ourselves meeting them once more in the final of the competition.

At this stage, it is worth mentioning more contextual detail about the playing conditions. Quito is situated at 2,800 meters in the Andes, an altitude that makes you short of breath if you have to walk up steps, let alone play six games in three days at a football tournament. But our boys were ready, and that is one of the reasons I had such respect for them.

We knew before we went that conditions would be difficult and had trained accordingly, with the team enthusiastically taking part in the middle-distance running/strength and conditioning exercises with as much zeal as the skills-based practice sessions. There was also a real egalitarian sense of togetherness with equal respect for members of the team regardless of whether they were a G9 like Sergio Piaggio, playing in his first SAAC tournament, or a seasoned campaigner, like the captain, Jomi Tirado, playing in his fourth SAAC tournament. Mr. Hancock had a memorable phrase which would become our team’s slogan throughout that season and which is good advice for any team hoping to achieve success: “Train together, stay together.”

Given the sacrifices made and the collegiality of our team, it was with a good deal of emotion that Coach Arle and I delivered our team talk before the final. We had to try and strike the right balance of motivating the team but also dispel some of the nerves caused by playing in such a big occasion. As the kick off time for the final approached it was clear that Quito, who are a wonderful footballing team, were also going to benefit from home support as hundreds of spectators started to fill up the terrace on one side of the pitch. It really was an evocative scene as the teams lined up to shake hands at the beginning of the game with the elevation of the ground affording us a beautiful view across the city and to the volcanoes in the far-distance.

What was going to be really important for us was to keep our heads and ensure that we did not let in any soft goals in the opening minutes; the longer we could stay organized, the more nerves would be dispelled, and then we could start to impose ourselves upon the opposition. With Checho in goal and Juan Diego Vidaurazzaga anchoring our defense we started to play with our own shape and the first half played out very evenly. As we got to halftime we realized that we were in a position to go out and win the game and surely the pressure was mounting on our hosts who had probably expected to get off to a stronger start but had been frustrated by our fantastic marking and competing for every ball. Jomi and Vicenzo Calvi did the job of delivering our half time team talk for us and everyone was clued up on what their job was to ensure success.

But then disaster struck. Within minutes of the restart, Sebastian Rios was sent off for a second yellow card for a seemingly innocuous challenge. We knew that it would have been wrong to protest the decision out of respect to the referee but it did seem remarkably harsh. It was going to take real character for our team, already with heavy legs and struggling for air, to play out a game against a team with an extra man.  To make it worse, within moments of the game being restarted from a free kick, Quito struck and we now found ourselves one man, and one goal down as ominous, pitch-black storm clouds started to swirl and gather all around us.

Being up at that altitude, when there is a storm brewing you are actually in the center of it and when the thunder claps ring out like gun shots you flinch in panic. The air was thick and heavy with electricity as tremendous bolts of lightning illuminated the dank, grey skies. It seemed that everything was conspiring against us and as a coach I had started to run out of encouraging words. But if I was having doubts, the ten players out on the pitch certainly had none. They kept playing with intensity and grit and, when Jake Yllander found himself played through, he took the ball around their keeper and from a seemingly impossible angle fired home to level the match. The ecstasy of that moment will be one that I will not forget for a long, long time. I have rarely experienced a rush of total joy at a sporting event that matched our team’s reaction to that goal, and I include trips to watch Manchester United at Old Trafford with crowds of 75,000+ when I say that. It was the fact we had worked so hard together for so long that to be back in the game was just the best feeling and I remember all our SAAC football girls, who had shown amazing spirit by watching us from the sidelines, our subs, Coach Hancock, Coach Arle and myself were screaming with pride as sheets of rain poured over our faces and the storm raged on overhead.

In the end though, the scale of the task proved too much. In those conditions, with the mud sticking to the boys’ boots, legs became tired and, ultimately, Quito’s extra man told and they were able to get another goal, before the conditions became so bad it was deemed too dangerous to continue and the match was postponed for 15 minutes to allow the storm to pass over. The team fired themselves up for the final few minutes but it was not to be. However, my respect and identity with that football team could not have been higher and by putting themselves through that experience, their lives and memories are richer for it. So I can say with confidence that it is the taking part, not the winning that matters in life.