((ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN / ELLIE GOULDING + LYRICS - YouTube))
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Stepping off the plane all that greeted the Ghanaian faces full of impetuous ambition was a sensational skyline of fresh looking skyscrapers, their peaks climbing and falling like crenulations, perhaps this was the modern castle.
An ardent activist might begrudge the Arabian peninsula nation their glinting idols made of glass and steel as they built city after city with their oil and gas money; anyone else would just amaze at the small nation's man made wonders.
As the buses took them down the wide tarmac in the blistering heat, the manager seemed to be the only one struggling a little despite the practice of working in Ghana of all places for three years now, the summer weather always near killed him. His players thank goodness wern't affected one bit, the climate no different to their own, perhaps that might aid them should any small factor count at all.
Looking across from under his sweaty brow, the manager eyed the newspaper Gerrard held out before him at the front of the bus. The headline of the article spoke on the corruption of FIFA leading to the Qatar World Cup, that through their illicit deals the nation which wasn't known for football in the slightest had bagged the largest sport on the planet's biggest competition. The paper wasn't from Qatar, there was no surprise.
His eyes turned back to the front and the view beyond the vast clear windows of the city and its sculpted curves, its clean image as no dirt or foul looking object could be seen wherever you looked. Back when the tournament destination had been decided he had groaned about the outcome, yet now with a team to command at the event it wasn't for him to say how they got the competition, leave that to fans. They just had to concentrate on trying to get as far as they could.
Really that was what it was all about. Here they were, Ghana had made it to another World Cup, but these players were old, for them, this was it. 14 of the squad were over the age of 30, nearly all of their stars were pushing the end of their careers, next year if not after this final challenge.
No one gave the African teams a chance, why would they? Their players wern't the world beaters that teams like Brazil, France and Argentina had. Holland, Italy, England...there were many teams who the bookies felt had a strong chance to walk out in 3 weeks time with their hands about the trophy; Portugal or Mexico, Germany or Spain? It was either South America or Europe once again; an outside chance of anywhere else.
View attachment 305108 Arriving in Lusail, a city which existed only on paper 10 years ago, they headed out once settled to see what was on offer, armed with their drinking permits. Perhaps the true image wasn't captured in their tour, the various factions of the world all on show as they had begun to gather for the opening game of the tournament in a few days time. The manager wasn't really concerned with any of the other groups or matches, for him, it was all about their first game and getting 3 points on the board.
12th June Canada - Group C - Lusail Iconic Stadium
It was a beautiful stadium, there was no denying that. In his eyes it was no Wembley though, and lord knows what they would do with it or any of the others once the World Cup moved on. Maybe the Q-league Qatar's domestic football would be getting some incredible stadiums for their less than incredible teams.
View attachment 305114 Lining up for the national anthems, Gerrard looked to the manager as they viewed the Ghana squad all proudly stood with their hands clasped behind their backs for the anthems.
"You nervous? You look it."
"Yeah I am, we're actually at the World Cup....I've been to big Premier League games, domestic finals, Champions League finals...but the World Cup feels like its so much more."
The assistant smiled "You'll be fine after this one" and took his seat, he'd been to two as a player so at least he knew what he was talking about.
Ghana started things off, played it back and kept the ball. Passing it amongst one another they looked calm and collected, a guess would be that playing a team like Canada first really helped to keep them relaxed and ease them in.
Maybe too much. As the clock started to read higher and higher numbers, the manager looked at what they'd managed to produce. Canada were predictably sticking to a firm defence, as many players as possible behind the ball to try and block any final ball, and the black stars were struggling because of it. The Canadian fans relished their battling performance, holding off the attacks meant they were playing well in the eyes of those in the know.
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They must have had over 3 quarters of the possession and a hat-full of chances, yet nothing found its way into the back of the net. Half time, they just looked like they had no urgency at all.
Sending them out with a little impetus, they appeared no different despite the motivation which had looked as if it had worked. An hour of play, nothing. Fears began to creep in that they would turn out to be the flops of this grand occassion, the team which a minnow would step over to become the fairytale.
62 minutes, Junior Hoilett thundered in hard on Andre Ayew, brutal. The players all barged over, faces were wide eyed and close, mediators were created all over the mob as both nations sought to cool the temperature and avoid incident. The referee called Hoilett to one side, those who tried to follow were forced back with a strong flick of the referee's arm.
He spoke quietly to Hoilett, the Canadian started to lift his hands to his head, the red card went up and the stands became a whirlwind of noise.
The manager was silent as his opposite number screamed ****** murder to the 4th official. The tackle had been a bad one, he'd seen them given before. Luckily Andre wasn't hurt, but he didn't want to risk his captain. Signalling, he had his brother Jordan Ayew strip off, so too did Boakye as Majeed had remained ineffective as the tip of the attack.
As the tension died down they restarted, the subs came on and play resumed. The Ghana team still couldn't find the key to the Canada defence.
Toure leant over to the manager "If we can't score against Canada, we might need to look at starting with some of the fringe players against the others..."
He nodded subtly in response. They couldn't draw with Canada surely, they'd only been to one world cup before back in 1986.
Into the last 5 minutes, Jordan Ayew cut inside from the left, a fraction of space. Lashing his foot at it, the ball weaved over the tops of the Canadian defence all preparing themselves for the worst. The keeper got up, palmed it onto the bar; out it came back beyond the defence all clustered inside the area.
Richmond Boakye took one step back, waited until the ball had just bounced, and wrapped his boot around it.
Just luck in the end had been all they needed; finding a path through the sea of red shirts which had thwarted them until now, the ball raced into the corner of the net.
1 - 0, Ghana finally managed to get their goal and get the 3 points, and the fans had something to celebrate also as Sweet Caroline ran around the African section. The manager breathed the heaviest sigh of relief, embaressment saved right at the death.
((Jimmy Eat World - The Middle - Lyrics - YouTube))
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17th June Peru - Group C - Khalifa International Stadium
A quick trip back to Doha, and to the main stadium for the tournament.
Peru represented the toughest ask in the group, but he'd made sure the team knew them with their friendly. A few tactical tweaks, and he felt they'd be ready for the South Americans. Settled and having avoided the scare of the first match, the manager and the players alike felt as if they had learnt their lesson, things were good now.
A Opoku 40 minutes, A Ayew 45, Valdivia 48. 2 - 1, Ghana already qualified with their 6 points as Canada only managed a goalless draw with hosts Qatar.
22nd June Qatar - Group C - Madinat Ash-Shamal International Arena
Safe in the knowledge they were already through to the knockouts the atmosphere was buoyant. Another city and another stadium, but they didn't care about all the relocating as their chances for the game were pretty good. Qatar were without a doubt the worst team at the entire tournament, the only reason for their participation being 100% the fact that they were hosting it. Still, the fans turned out in force, eager for their final chance to have a go on the biggest stage.
View attachment 305119 The build up was like nothing the manager had witnessed before; the fans were huge throngs both inside the stadium and out of people in support of their less than special team. It was amazing that they could be such vocal supporters for such a woeful group of footballers, up against not even the best in the world with their group draw. Yet to even score a goal, it didn't dampen their voices in the minutes before kick off.
One minute in Andre Ayew's goal did.
It looked as though the game would turn out to be a thrashing, Qatar were already looking hopeless, it was just a question of how many. Yet after taking possession back soon after the restart, they passed it back to Adjei-Boateng who collected the ball only to stop and rest back on his feet.
The rest of the Ghana team looked both unimpressed and unconcerned as the centre back just paused on the ball; but in came the Qatar attackers trying to pressure. Without a clear option to his left or right, not wanting to just punt it up field, he turned about and stroked a pass back toward the keeper.
He wasn't ready, and not only that, the pass was fantastically short. Getting up from his seat the manager stiffled a cry of anger at his shocking defence, his fists clenching by his sides.
The Qatari attackers collected the ball, waited for keeper Larsen-Kwarasey to reach them before sending it sideways. With an open goal 5 minutes in, Al-Marri drove the ball into the Ghana net. Qatar had equalised almost immediately, and more than that they had scored their first ever World Cup goal. The stadium errupted as crowds all over the peninula roared with delight.
Larsen-Kwarasey threw all sorts of gestures and harsh language to the defender, just a guilty flustered face met the treatment as the man clearly wished he was now anywhere but there. Had he any options he felt more secure about the manager would have gladly indulged him.
With the wind in their sails, Qatar now made it more of a game. Sporadic chances, they got through to half time still drawing. Again it made no real difference to the scoreline as the manager prepped them with some fierce treatment to sort the mess out. Qatar gave everything they had defending as Canada had.
Goalmouth scrambles seemed to happen every 5 minutes as a ball would be whipped into the box, defenders failing to clear as Ghanaian legs carried the white shirts in to try and poke it home.
They were already through, that was what the manager had to tell himself. He made his subs to keep legs fresh and sat back down, desperate to keep his blood pressure from going through the roof.
The board went up for added time, 2 minutes, but just before the 90 hit Richard Boateng managed to get himself a fraction of space with the ball at his feet. On the turn he let a shot go, 2 - 1. At long last. Qatar restarted, now into extra time. Ghana nicked it back, Andre Ayew timed a quick run against the defence caught off guard. Over the top and he put it past the keeper. 90+1 minutes.
They restarted again, and to the surprise of everyone watching, Ghana repeated precisely the same action. Andre Ayew grabbed a hattrick, 90+2, and more importantly than that became Ghana's all time top scorer in history. Thrilled for their captain, the players all rushed over to the tune of Neil Diamond and the final whistle.
A 4 - 1 win in the end, and 9 points winners of the group.
Group A
| W | D | L | GD | Pts |
| Portugal | 3 | 0 | 0 | +4 | 9 |
| Holland | 2 | 0 | 1 | +6 | 6 |
| U.S.A | 0 | 1 | 2 | -5 | 1 |
| South Africa | 0 | 1 | 2 | -5 | 1 |
Group B
| W | D | L | GD | Pts |
| Australia | 2 | 0 | 1 | +3 | 6 |
| Russia | 2 | 0 | 1 | +3 | 6 |
| Croatia | 2 | 0 | 1 | +1 | 6 |
| DR Congo | 0 | 0 | 0 | -7 | 0 |
Group C
| W | D | L | GD | Pts |
| Ghana | 3 | 0 | 0 | +5 | 9 |
| Peru | 2 | 0 | 1 | +5 | 6 |
| Canada | 0 | 1 | 2 | -3 | 1 |
| Qatar | 0 | 1 | 2 | -7 | 1 |
Group D
| W | D | L | GD | Pts |
| Germany | 2 | 1 | 0 | +5 | 7 |
| England | 2 | 0 | 1 | +2 | 6 |
| South Korea | 0 | 2 | 1 | -2 | 2 |
| Argentina | 0 | 1 | 2 | -5 | 1 |
Group E
| W | D | L | GD | Pts |
| Spain | 3 | 0 | 0 | +13 | 9 |
| Chile | 1 | 0 | 2 | -2 | 3 |
| Iran | 1 | 0 | 2 | -5 | 3 |
| Sweden | 1 | 0 | 2 | -6 | 3 |
Group F
| W | D | L | GD | Pts |
| Mexico | 2 | 1 | 0 | +2 | 7 |
| France | 2 | 0 | 1 | +2 | 6 |
| Italy | 1 | 1 | 1 | 0 | 4 |
| Columbia | 0 | 0 | 3 | -4 | 0 |
Group G
| W | D | L | GD | Pts |
| Belgium | 3 | 0 | 0 | +9 | 9 |
| Tunisia | 2 | 0 | 1 | 0 | 6 |
| Norway | 1 | 0 | 2 | -2 | 3 |
| Japan | 0 | 0 | 3 | -7 | 0 |
Group H
| W | D | L | GD | Pts |
| Costa Rica | 2 | 1 | 0 | +4 | 7 |
| Brazil | 1 | 2 | 0 | +4 | 5 |
| Ukraine | 1 | 1 | 1 | +1 | 4 |
| Cameroon | 0 | 0 | 3 | -9 | 0 |
26th June England - 2nd Round - Al Wakrah Community Stadium
Ghana might well have celebrated their group success despite the glaring flaws, but the challenge that faced them the moment they were into knockout football posed a steep obstacle and perhaps a test which was too much for the West African side.
View attachment 305125 The English TV crews were flocking to get the thoughts of the usual faces whenever African football met with English. Marcel Desailly who had at one point apparently been in for the Ghana job spoke candidly; after the 1 - 5 beating England dolled out in the friendlies a month ago, and the poor standard of wins Ghana had managed so far, it seemed impossible to look beyond the three lions.
View attachment 305126 The fans didn't care what the talk was. Turning up in yet another Qatar city, they were their joyful selves, eliciting wonderful smiles from everyone they came across even if they did just take pictures like it were some staged show rather than join in.
Martin Jol had that same smug grin on his face as he shook the manager's hand. Gerrard equally felt the same distaste as he was faced with the arrogant looking features of the Dutch manager. He wasn't a bad man, just supremely confident of his chances clearly.
It was Englishmen on both sides of the confrontation once again. Beneath his stern exterior for the game the manager truthfully had wished they never would have had to face his home country. All the **** media had banged on about was his nationality, how some felt it would be betrayal to knock them out, others that he was in control of a hopeless Ghana team at this tournament.
He'd had just one important thing to say to the cameras beside the news of his team when the obligatory meeting had taken place; reporters he knew well in attendance for once, they respected that he had to get it off his chest - he knew from seeing it in the past just how fervent the English could be when it came to football, and he didn't want any death threats coming his family's way...
"My hope is coming into this tie, that whoever wins come the final whistle there is no bad blood.
He took a breath, getting the words clear in his head.
"In a perfect world the losers will go on to support the victors, because lets face it why not? I am English and if I wasn't here with Ghana I would be without doubt supporting my nation just as I grew up doing. But i'm not; I'm here with my team who have worked hard to reach this far, so we will be doing everything in our power to try and win that game. Should we do so; then perhaps the English fans will decide that this always fantastic African side managed by an Englishman will be their hopes for the rest of the Cup."
View attachment 305136 England started brightly, Adam Oxlade-Chamberlain was making a nuisance of himself with his winding runs, darting around the Ghanaians with ease. So too was Yalcin Akarsu being a headache down the opposite wing with his rocketpack on it seemed whenever he got the ball.
It was no surprise when Akarsu managed to get himself into the box clear of the defence. The goalie came out to close the angle, but the English winger simply squared it to the young striker Bateson to push home. 26 minutes gone, and the English were in voice...the **** band playing their same god awful tune. Someone teach them a new song for christ sake.
As half time came and went, the manager had yet again tried to instil some fire. It didn't have a chance to work as 47 minutes on the clock Nick Powell bent one sweetly from the edge of the area. 2 - 0.
Ghana kicked off, and as they gave it to Asamoah the midfielder sized up the pitch. Apparently this time it had worked. Playing with some drive, it'd take a little luck to get the breakthrough.
View attachment 305137 Becoming more and more of a presence in the game, Kwadwo spied the run of their centre forward Majeed. At last for a change the striker timed it right, the ball skidding across the ground to slip past the white shirted centre backs. The quick forward was onto it and up against Butland alone. Out came the Brighton goalkeeper, but Majeed fortunately was in the moment. A swift side foot of the ball gave it a little swerve to take it beyond the scrambling man. 52 minutes, they wern't done yet.
Minutes later a wayward cross floated over the top from the right, sailing way beyond the back four of England. As it made its way toward the corner flag, Butland jogged out to collect it, looking up to send a pass through the air toward Phil Jones strolling back.
Alarm suddenly jolted into the English keeper. Nathanial Clyne screamed "MAN ON!" as the centre back collected it at his feet, but the turn of his head to see the danger came too late already. Kwadwo Asamoah seemingly coming out of nowhere took the ball, pushed one stride clear of Jones, and looked to the goal.
Butland was sprinting as fast as he might to get back into his net, his legs pumping he was looking all the time to the Ghana midfielder ready in case he needed to dive with everything he might have.
Asamoah wouldn't miss such a chance. He smashed the ball from the distance he was, Butland was well beaten, and into the empty goal the ball flew. An equaliser, 56 minutes.
England looked despairingly wherever they were; the players to one another, the fans to the pitch, those at home to their televisions, the manager to the events unfolding.
The Ghana boss clapped his hands powerfully as they lined back up, the noise carrying over the jubilant scenes in the stands. "Take this now lads and go with it!!"
It might have hurt for the likes of Akarsu, Clyne, Towler and Butland to have to see the manager they loved cheering on their opposition, but he didn't care. They were here to win, even against the likes of England.
View attachment 305139 The tie settled, and fearing they would lose the momentum Ghana changed things around. Fresh legs came on, and still playing as the heart of the team Kwadwo Asamoah began to see more and more of the play, getting forward to make things happen.
I Opoku on at the same time as A Opoku both charged forward at the same time as Kwadwo gathered the ball. Ibrahim galloping down the right soon was fed the ball, with it under his control he sped onwards, ignoring the tame efforts of the left back till he was at the byline.
Without looking he slammed a cross in. Butland flapped at it, too many bodies to get a proper punch it dropped into a cluster of players all fighting frantically for the ball.
Phil Jones booted it with everything he could manage, Andre Ayew took the full force of it on the chest knocking him clean off his feet. The legs stepped over him as the ball dropped to the deck. Jones kicked it again desperate to clear, it clipped Ayew down on the ground, A Opoku found his head in the path of it, and knowing little about it the ball ricocheted off his face...and into the back of the net.
The stadium roof lifted as they took the lead. The 80th minute; keen to hold on for 10 minutes the manager did all he could to calm down the players and get the play going again. England were fast from the kick off, but a fortunately skied shot out of desperation trying to immediately level the tie meant Ghana had some breathing space. Keeping it in the corner, the tackles and yellows flowed, England were staring down the barrel of another major tournament gun.
The final whistle came after a lifetime. 3 - 2, they knocked out the English.
The manager refused to celebrate in an overt manner, congratulating his players, but he never smiled throughout the joyous scenes. The press thrust microphones under his nose as he waited on the pitch with the players; he and Gerrard getting asked all manner of pointless questions. Stoney faced, they merely offered their condolences to the English and got clear as soon as they could.
Second Round Results
Portugal 1 - 0 Russia
Holland 3 - 3p Australia
Ghana 3 - 2 England
Peru 1 - 0 Germany
France 1 - 1p Spain
Mexico p2 - 2 Chile
Brazil 2 - 1 Belgium
Costa Rica 0 - 2 Tunisia
Ghana wern't the only surprise of the round. Peru seeing off the Germans was quite the game; the scenes as Tunisia beat Costa Rica were almost as wild as the ones the Ghanaian support put on for the cameras. But without a doubt Australia's 3 all draw and penalty win against the Dutch was the pick of the bunch. What a game that was for the neutrals, and how fantastic it was for Ghana, for however well the Aussies may have played the manager would much rather face them as opposed to the Dutch.
Thrilled just to be in the Quarter Finals again after 12 years, the manager would have more of a job keeping the players relaxed and calm now rather than getting the blood pumping.
[video=youtube;rWdGjcaLILU]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rWdGjcaLILU[/video]
((http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zfx8-c63u0Q))
1st July Australia - Quarter Finals - Sports City Stadium
They were back in Doha again, and should they progress further it was the only place they would be from now on. The last of the stadiums Qatar had to offer, they'd seen them all now, each a masterpiece.
The Quarter Final. It was the furthest stage Ghana had ever reached, the 2010 World Cup in South Africa; everyone alive remembers the heartbreak, the ridiculous drama of the Suarez handball, the missed penalty, the horrible shootout.
View attachment 305147 Facing off against Australia, they would never get a better chance of reaching the Semi Finals. The Socceroos had done brilliantly, but this was now Ghana's time.
Andre Ayew set up Majeed 52; Majeed set up Ayew 74. 2 - 0, an historic moment as Ghana became the first African side ever to reach beyond the Quarter Finals.
Quarter Final Results
Portugal 5 - 0 Peru
Australia 0 - 2 Ghana
Spain 1 - 3 Tunisia
Mexico 1 - 3 Brazil
Somehow; somehow, Tunisia had found the form of their lives to overcome a savage looking Spanish team. A comfortable victory too, the manager again despite the good form they were in would gladly play the North African side instead of the Spanish.
6th July Tunisia - Semi Final - Khalifa International Stadium
The team talk was simple beforehand. They had beaten the Tunisian's on home soil at their own tournament, they could do it here. It was time for Ghana to reach a World Cup Final.
View attachment 305161 Richard Boateng must have responded well, because he was on the top of his game. 32 minutes he seized on a failed backpass to the keeper, giving them the lead. 49 minutes he did all of the hard work, only to lay it off to Majeed to tap home the finish.
Tunisia tried to come back; Khazri surged into the box and blasted it at Larsen-Kwarasey, the gloves of the man only managing to push it straight back to the striker who fired in the second chance in the 78th minute. It made for a tense ending, and as the added time drifted away Ghana began to celebrate. Then Vandam gave away a free kick out on the right.
It would be the last kick of the game, even the goalie came up for it. Ghana held their line firm, in came the cross, lunging forward the Tunisians stole a march and with ecstatic cheers headed it home.
The linesmans flag was up. Offside. If they had waited just half a second they would have been onside. Tunisia cried to the heavens in their painful moments of anguish. The Ghanaians burst into their celebratory scenes, faces unable to hold back the overpowering sense of joy they were feeling.
2 - 1, Ghana were through.
Semi Final Results
Portugal 3 - 0 Brazil
Ghana 2 - 1 Tunisia
He had two big things to do before the all important game; the biggest game of all their careers.
Sitting before the press, the entire world press was now in attendance it felt like; not just those who were about to face the African side. More cameras than he had ever seen were facing him, more reporters were crammed into the room, dictaphones in hand as they clutched notepads ready to hang on every word spoken.
Q. "It's amazing that you've guided this Ghana side to the Final, even though the only big challenges have been Peru and England. Do you think you stand much of a chance against the Portuguese the way they are playing?"
A. "The way Australia and Tunisia were playing thats a little unfair on them, but I take your point, we could have been playing Holland then Spain...on paper much stronger challenges. Yes, we have a chance, if it were over two legs I'd be puffing out my cheeks. But lets face it, its a final, and however big the team is we face...on the night my boys are capable of producing something special."
Q. "Of course you're going to back your boys to an extent, but Portugal beat the reigning champions 3 goals to nil. Do you seriously think you can beat them? Especially with the defensive frailties that have been on display already by Ghana."
A. "This may sound a little silly, it may sound a little cheesy, I don't really care. Do any of you know what Ghana means?" He waited only a second, the rhetorical question was open to far too large a room to leave it for long.
"Ghana means Warrior King. I've seen the passion the people display, the fierce commitment and willingness to dig in when it matters most from my team. Wherever we go people smile, they laugh and dance with the party the Ghanaian people take with them always. And yet most of all, everywhere we go, we beat the teams we're up against when it matters most.
"We're the Champions of Africa everyone. Come tomorrow, don't write off the underdogs, I've been there before, they've been there before. I'll tell you how that usually turns out one day if you can't figure it out yourselves."
The night arrived. Gathering his players before they entered the stadium and all the frenzy it entailed, he sat them down. Unlike before, this time he had their attention right from the off, every face looking to him expectantly, full of admiration and excitement.
"You're going to need to get yourselves ready, so i'll keep this brief. Every one of you, those who might feel they've played their best football ever, those who might feel they've let down the side once or twice. All of you have made me proud, if it wasn't for every single one of you...we wouldn't be here. Win or lose, I'm bursting with pride over what you've acomplished.
"But when you step out onto that pitch tonight, know that those 90 minutes will be it, the end. Asamoah, you're 33. Larsen-Kwarasey, you're 34. Both you Ayew's are over 30, in fact so many of you are that you must all realise that this really is it.
"Whether you play for your clubs again or not makes no difference....this is your one and only shot at the greatest prize in football, and not only can you claim that for yourselves, not only can you claim that for the fantastic nation of Ghana; you can all win it for the whole of Africa, and go down in history as the first African side
ever to win the World Cup.
"Now go get yourselves set, we'll be back in the dressing room in an hour!" He gave them a broad clap, something he was getting used to doing. The coaches ushered them up and out, nervous smiles on every one of the faces, the whole squad were eerily quiet.
((Advent Children - Divinity I [HQ] - YouTube))
10th July Portugal - Final - Khalifa International Stadium
View attachment 305173 The teams stepped out, commentators building the tension for their millions watching. The national anthems soaring across the hundreds of millions of screens all over the globe, pictures of the immensely proud players clutching at their hearts, looking to the sky, singing as loud as they might dare.
The Portuguese coach looked over after singing his own national anthem to see the Ghana boss silently watch his team for their own, almost as if he were proving a point. Vitor Pereira, Porto's former coach had made the jump to International football also. Their duels it seemed had one more important game to go.
Their regulars alongwith the new flock of adopted Ghanaians for the night awaited the piercing shrill of the whistle; Svein Oddvar oversaw the handshake, Majeed and Andre Ayew looked to one another at the centre spot, and they were away.
Portugal immediately switched into a tempo Ghana wern't ready for, their players once in possession passing one another the ball so quickly even if under no pressure. The play moved rapidly up toward the Ghana box, and as their players dropped back to try and plug the gaps, Portugal pushed their manoeuvre through, the striker left the defence for dust, Kwarasey able to get a hand and deflect it onto the post and out.
Ghana cleared the corner, Majeed collecting it and with the defenders bearing down on him let go of a shot some distance out. The keeper dove low to his side, fingertips getting it to roll beyond the frame of the goal, a spectacular save.
10 minutes in and the game was already thrilling, both teams were pressing, the football was fast and full of events. The Ghana defence had picked up a couple of yellow cards trying to put a stop to the frantic footwork of the Portuguese attackers, that would be ok so long as they learnt and eased up a touch.
The right back Vandam was getting run at repeatedly, it seemed Pereira had decided on the specific weakness in the defence they would exploit.
Staring up to the vast screen, the clock ticked past 20, and just as they all felt the game might slow down after its busy start, Vandam was fooled into lunging in.
Hands climbed to mouths instinctively as everyone not Portuguese or with their life savings bet on the favourites knew that the worst was about to happen for Ghana.
Vandam looked as if he was ready to get on his knees, hands clasped as he prayed with the referee, his feet shuffling backwards as if escape would recind what was unfolding.
View attachment 305190 Out came the red card. Vandam was surrounded by his teammates, inside they must have been fuming, but a mixture of comforting and directing sent him on his way holding his emotions in check. Toure collected him at the sideline, walking him down the tunnel.
Now no-one could believe in anything but a Portugal win. 10 men and 70 minutes to play...
Majeed saw the substitute board go up with his number, off he came for Akamino. Now Ghana had no forward on, three centre midfielders, Quansah down the right and Andre down the left. It was time to dig the trenches.
Needing no order, Portugal launched themselves with all men available at the Ghanaian defence. Through they pushed the ball, zig-zagging between the Africans as they geared up for another strike. The ball floated into the box, not the idea Pereira had in mind clearly as he began shouting. Mensah got his head to it and cleared the lines.
Kwadwo Asamoah stormed from their area, his eyes only for the ball he beat the defender to it, quickly looking up he saw Quansah was on his way down the right unmarked. Out it went, and seizing the initiative Kwadwo got on his bike and went for it himself.
Quansah was away, Portugal chasing with everything they had they had been caught out with all bodies committed. The left back began to close, Quansah may be a winger but he wasn't the sprinter the manager was used to playing on his wings, yet on went the Ghanaian man, pushing everything he had into trying to bust forward.
The defender caught him, an arm came out to protect the ball, and fearing he would screw the whole attack he crashed his foot against the ball goalward.
Asamoah despaired as he still powered on with his lungbuster run, but as the Portuguese keeper realised it was heading towards his goal and not across the pitch he flung himself back to his high corner. The gloves squeezed it onto the angle, down it bounced as the keeper fell to the floor, Kwadwo now a pace ahead of his pursuers pounced to the free ball, the gaping net, the screaming fans behind willing him on every second he was closing in on it.
The net could have ripped open the way he thundered it home. Arms held out, he turned to see his team all lit up with astonishment and wonder. The 10 man side had the lead!
Pereira looked fit to burst, almost jumping with his rage as his arms waved about like unskilled weapons. His players knew they were being made to look like fools.
((Advent Children - Divinity II [HQ] - YouTube))
Ghana dropped back, Asamoah marshalled them, Mensah got the line rigid, and **** for leather they defended as if their lives depended on it.
Before anyone knew it, 45 minutes had elapsed, and commentators the world over were struggling on how to put the half into words. Re-emerging, the nerves looked like they might have crept in, half way to the World Cup against all odds. Yet still they fought tooth and nail, they wouldn't be denied.
65 minutes, the manager looked to his bench. Quansah was utterly exhausted, the way he was running an injured player would move more easily. A Opoku warmed up and replaced the temporary hero, the accident shot the assist they already loved.
Opoku looked fresh, but the moment he was stood there staring around at the crowds he didn't look ready.
Portugal saw the look of the man, they knew he would be susceptible. 71 minutes, Kovalev went one on one with the substitute at the edge of the area. His legs looked like jelly, wrong footing the man he opened up the space to curl a breathtaking shot into the far corner.
The red and green burst into rapture, the talk became that Ghana had done themselves proud but now this was it. They didn't ease up, kick off, and on they came again.
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Looking to the clock again as the mediterranean side pushed up further still. The last 10 minutes, then the last 5. Portugal were coming so close but they wern't getting that crucial goal. He wasn't sure if it was in his own head or if he was whispering the words to himself, it just repeated over and over.......
come on come on come on come on come on....
The ball looped up toward the Portuguese half, Ghana got out of their area and pressed higher up the field. Feeling confident of their chances still despite the time they passed it between the back four, keeping it well away from the Ghanaians, waiting, looking to pick their spot before launching again.
It went to the centre back, he turned to look out to the side. There was that call again, only it sounded different. Kwadwo Asamoah sprinting from nowhere sprung himself upon the defender, wresting the ball from his control. The ball was loose, bouncing toward the area, the keeper came charging out as the last line. Asamoah knew this was their final chance surely; busting himself to get there before the onrushing goalkeeper.
The stadium held its breath, both arrived at the same time. Asamoah's foot got the touch, and as their bodies clattered together falling seperate ways, the ball gently hopped its way over the line.
The shirt was off, the stands were uncontrollable. 86th minute, that had to be it.
Portugal kicked off, and as Ghana got the ball into the corner with some swift defending, all of the Portugese side were pouring towards the ball wherever it might be. Now the clock wasn't moving at all, 4 minutes, 3 minutes. Portugal were just hounding every Ghanaian who got the ball, whenever overwhelmed they kicked it up the pitch to the lone Goalkeeper stood on the halfway line, out for a throw, anything!
2 minutes.......1 minute......it was 90 minutes....
come on come on come on come on!!
Portugal had one last go at it, the desperation so dominating on all their faces, their nation clutching at collars.
A long shot, it rocketed at Larsen-Kwarasey, he should be catching it no problem and then it'd be over.
He spilled it. Alexandre slid in before all Ghanaian defenders. 2 - 2. The referee blew his whistle for the end of normal time.
They huddled with the manager, Gerrard and Toure all looking to the shattered 10 players. What words were there for such an occassion? Tell them they were heroes for what they'd done and that was enough? There would be time for that should they go out later, whilst there was still time, there was still a chance however slim. They'd made it this far.
The physios did their work, woke legs back up, they refueled as best able and got back out there. 30 minutes more, he didn't know if his heart could take it.
Again the mediterranean side came at them like a battering ram, footwork dancing it past the front line but sheer numbers insisted on keeping out the attacks. **** they couldn't leave it to their keeper again, his nerves were completely shot, they'd be lucky if he held out for the penalty shoot-out should they hold out.
Half time in extra time, my god they were so close to their best shot at winning.
Still with some energy left, A Opoku found himself with the ball and some space down the right again. With nothing else for it realising he could give the rest a breather he opened up the throttle and sped off down the wing. No challenge came as he passed the halfway line, the defenders all rushing back before they could get across, he ploughed on. Looking up, all that was left were the two defenders able to get to the area before him. Across they came, he cut inside, ready to hold it up for his support.
The man came bouldering into him, no love lost he simply put his shoulder through Opoku, the Ghanaian winger sent flying with his arms out. Every Portuguese face stared with horror, a free kick outside the area....how could he give them such a chance even if it was a small one.
Fearing a counter, the manager let Andre Ayew and Kwadwo Asamoah go forward with A Opoku, both their jobs to distrupt the wall and seize upon anything which came back out. Everyone else dropped to their haunches to suck in all the air they could.
Cameras flashed wildly, Opoku stood over it gathering himself, exhausted, totally spent after his flight.
The whistle blew, he ran up, battered the ball with everything he had left. It screamed beyond the wall, beyond the pack fighting over position. The goalkeeper rose into the air with his glove outstretched, hoping he had enough to get something on it, anything on it. It kissed the post, and found its way through the gap as the keeper angled high - into the back of the net.
The captain tore after the kick taker roaring his delight. The fans went beserk, the commentators lost their voices, the bench were out of their seats almost racing across the pitch themselves.
109 minutes. Portugal looked as if they had nothing left to give, no more energy to throw at the Ghanaian defence anymore. They tried, for 11 more minutes they tried, but as that final whistle came even they couldn't begrudge the scenes as almost every person witnessing the event howled their amazement for what they had seen.
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He couldn't speak, he couldn't hear a thing as the roaring crowds sounded silent to his ears. Players found the energy to sprint maniacally around the stadium, no-one able to close their mouths as they raced uncontrollably. He looked to his side, the Portguese coaches consoling the players limping home to them. Suddenly his view jolted, Gerrard, all the subs, everyone was upon him, shaking him, screaming ectasy in his ears. Wide eyes, he looked at them all, silent.
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The players belted over, he saw as Ayew mouth something to him.
Boss!!!!
He blinked hard.
"BOSS!!!!!" The captain cried. Every white shirt had ahold of him, he knew this routine. Up into the air he went, every set of hands propelling him up again and again.
They set him down, groups dancing, staff jumping. Hearing the stands with their music and cheer he finally let go of a grin he felt go up to his ears.
Preparing themselves for the moment they would treasure for generations, every player, staff member, and the manager all piled in about Ayew as he held himself in suspense for the moment. With the fireworks on cue, the golden cup climbed above their heads.
They went home, to what looked like all of Ghana as they were cheered wherever they went. The nation held a parade they would likely never see the numbers for ever again.
When the celebrations died down, Andre Ayew announced he was giving up his captaincy; several were retiring from international football. And the manager decided that once again, it was time for him to move on. 3 awe inspiring years, heights he had only dreamed of. He went with thanks, and the message he was
always welcome in the Western African nation of Ghana. Gerrard and Toure joined their boss, maybe this time they'd actually take a break from the game instead of rushing headlong into another insurmountable challenge.
