I told JJ and our wingers to stay wide, to force their full-backs to make decisions, to create space in the channels. "They're going to sit deep and make it difficult," I told the team. "We're going to have seventy percent of the ball and it's going to feel like we're getting nowhere. Don't panic. Don't force it. The goal will come."
It did not come. Not in the first half. Not in the first twenty minutes of the second half. And then, in the sixty-fourth minute, disaster struck.
Droylsden launched a long ball forward. Our centre-back and our goalkeeper both went for it. Neither called. They collided. The ball fell to Droylsden's striker, who had the simplest of tap-ins into an empty net. 1-0 down.
