In the sixty-seventh minute, a sweeping counter-attack that started with our goalkeeper, Ryan Fletcher, ended with Semenyo, who had come on as a substitute, whipping in a vicious, inswinging cross that Connor Blake met with a thunderous, unstoppable header.
2-0.
The game was over. The final twenty minutes were a masterclass in game management, the players keeping the ball with a confidence and a maturity that belied their age.
The third goal, in the eighty-fifth minute, was the icing on the cake, another brilliant piece of individual skill from Eze, who danced past two defenders before squaring the ball for Connor to tap into an empty net, completing his hat-trick.
3-0.
At the final whistle, I didn't feel the elation I had expected. Instead, as I watched my players celebrate with the small group of travelling fans, a different emotion took hold of me. It was a deep, bone-weary relief, so profound that it brought tears to my eyes.
