The shot came in from distance, stinging the hands of the keeper. Using all his knowledge of the game he pushed it away and to his right, as far from danger as he could. The power in the shot meant the parry clearer the penalty area and players from both teams went darting towards it. It was the defending team and Brian Jones who was there first. He trapped the ball under his feet before the opposition players swarmed around him. Mobbed at every turn there seemed little opportunity to do anything with the ball bar clear it over the the touchline and concede a throw in. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Steve Goldene, thinking quickly and fast running out of options he backheeled the ball taking three of the opposition off guard, the ball rolling just behind his teammate. With an outstretched leg Goldene brought the ball under control and turned away from his goal. With a quick look up he sprayed a delicate pass to the left hand side, switching play and allowing a counter attack.

The ball fell just in front of Martin Truman who darted onto it, determination furrowed into every line on his aging face. He did not have the pace to beat defenders but the young Freddie Burns did and overlapped his colleague with speed that would make a sprinter blush. The ball was thread through the eye of a needle, dissecting two defenders as Burns ran on to it. He was too fast for the opposition and was out wide on the edge of the box in a matter of seconds. A defender has almost burst a blood vessel to get back but rather than go round him Burns cut back and rolled the ball to George Weston on the edge of the area.

Without looking up, as if he had a psychic connection with the striker, Weston chipped the ball into the box. With few of the opposition able to keep pace with the counterattack, Daniel Smith was left completely unmarked. The header was not necessarily well placed but Smith had put his whole body behind it and the sheer power and pace of the shot beat the goalkeeper.

As the net rippled the stadium erupted into a crescendo of cheers. Colourful fans that had been sitting in trepidation only a few moments before were screaming at the top of their voice, dancing up and down and waving flags. This was a great goal, a goal the team had worked together to produce. From excellent defending and great hold up play to wonderful pace the ball had moved from defence to the back of the net in less than a minute. This is how they knew they would win the game, as a team and, as a team, they now celebrated this small slice of glory, one important segment of a much more important match.