Frozen Moment

Tension

Nil nil. Last minute of the match, I’m through on goal, but Taborda the giant Lisboa goalkeeper flattens me with an apercu. He’s sent off. I pick myself up. Penalty.

I line it up: it’s more difficult than it looks: across the river, through the overhanging trees, through the shadows and into the light. The goal is so wide it intimidates me.

I place the ball on the spot; but which side of my foot to use? Instep? Outside? What kind of run up? It’s muddy, I don’t want my standing leg to slip. I don’t want to lean back and balloon it over the bar. I don’t want to scuff it into the river.

I take a deep breath. My legs feel like rubber. Christ, I might not even reach the goal. I turn round; there’s Vardy. I say “ You have it, Jamie, it’ll build your total up.” He looks disgusted at me, steps up and smashes it through the trees, across the Don and into the top corner.

I’m pleased.