The FA Youth Cup third round, a home tie against Portsmouth, was a game that, on paper, we should have won comfortably.
But football, as I knew all too well, is not played on paper. It is played on grass, in the mud, in the rain, in the swirling, chaotic, beautiful mess of a human emotion. And in a cup competition, anything can happen.
One mistake, one moment of brilliance, one stroke of luck, and the best-laid plans can be torn to shreds.
With our league position so strong, with the dream of a top-four finish, of a place in the UEFA Youth League, so tantalizingly close, I made the decision to rotate the squad, to rest some of our key players, to give some of our fringe players, our unsung heroes, a chance to shine.
It was a gamble, a calculated risk, a testament to my belief in the depth, the quality, the sheer, bloody-minded, beautiful resilience of my entire squad. And it was a gamble that paid off, in spectacular, breathtaking, beautiful fashion.
