Once again the team all rejoiced, much more muted this time though, due to Sue's injury. The match quickly resumed, with the Avengers controlling the draw and immediately going on the offensive. Richie watched, frustrated, as the opponents she liked to think of as Pony Tail and Rake combined a wicked one-two, resulting in Pony Tail getting a fabulous shot off. It looked like Harriet had saved the best for last though, instantly stretching out her leg, turning the ball just around the post with the tip of her boot, brushing the sweat away from around the chin strap of her helmet with her gloved hand (not easy at the best of times) as she leapt back up, ready for another onslaught. However, Salisbridge had gained possession, but a poor pass from Angela saw the ball that was meant for Joey out wide on the left, travel into the crowd, out of bounds. With a little over three minutes left, the umpire blew his whistle and signalled to Attitude that she could once again take to the field. As she jogged back towards the Avengers' goal, she turned towards Richie, an ominous snarl scrawled across her face.
With the clock ticking down, Salisbridge were on the back foot. Although leading 5-1, they were all determined not to concede another goal and if at all possible, regain possession and score at least one more themselves. To this end, they were all defending valiantly, marking tightly, throwing themselves into check after check, desperate to retrieve the ball. In the end, the one Richie thought of as Rake became ever more impatient, shooting from an almost ridiculous distance, never really standing a chance of beating a goalkeeper of Harriet's quality from that far out.
Knowing that there was still just time for one more attack, Harriet's oversized stick propelled the ball out near the touchline on the right to Poppy, who on capturing the ball took off at full pelt, leaving the tired and weary Avengers player who was supposedly marking her, well behind. Both teams knew this was the last play of the game, something that spurred the home team on, while at the same time drained their opposition, despite the Avengers now having a one player advantage. With superior numbers on this attack, picking a pass was relatively simple for Poppy, and after having laid it off to Rachel in the centre of the pitch, continued on with her run.
Rachel moved forward quickly, not quite at a sprint but certainly fast enough to show that she was aware of the time counting down. By now, and with both the delay at the start of the match, half time, and the time it had taken to deal with Sue's injury, all the other matches had long since finished, with most of the spectators and players crowding around what now seemed like a very tiny lacrosse pitch.
With the Somerset team having almost given up, Rachel, like Poppy before her, had more than a couple of options, but very single-mindedly knew what she was looking for. And then she saw it. Richie was making a sweeping run in from the right, her body language screaming for the ball. This was the pass that Rachel had been looking for, this was the one that would gain them the goal. Mechanically she cast the ball to the onrushing Richie, its target. But as if from nowhere, up popped Emma's stick, her route intersecting that of her captain's. With a flourish, she plucked the ball out of the air, all in one graceful move and at top speed headed towards the goal circle. Only two players remained between her and the ideal end to the game. Their goalie and Richie's nemesis... Attitude.
By now, Emma's body had decided on a course of action. Feinting left but cutting back right, she drew her stick back a touch before unleashing a rip-roaring shot that was heading straight for the bottom left corner of the goal as she looked at it. The shot was so good that she was already wheeling away, raising her stick aloft in celebration.
If Emma had been watching, she would have seen something absolutely amazing happen, probably in fact the best piece of skill in the game so far. Attitude the defender managed to intercept the speeding shot, her reactions akin to a Greek god.
A collective intake of breath from almost all those watching at once, was Emma's first clue that all had not gone to plan. The lack of applause for the would-be goal just confirmed it.
Richie slowed to a halt, hanging a little back from Emma, who had just stolen the goal scoring opportunity away from her. She didn't begrudge the young forward her moment of glory, quite the opposite in fact. In Richie's opinion Emma deserved the man of the match award for her outstanding performance on and off the pitch, especially after her rousing speech at half time. As captain, she was just grateful to make it to the end of the game without anyone else getting hurt, and knowing that they'd put on a valiant display of lacrosse for everyone who'd turned out to watch and support this great event. Watching in admiration as Emma unleashed her shot, she'd just taken half a step in her teammate's direction to congratulate her, when it happened. Richie stood gobsmacked. The take was out of this world, and one that she herself could only have dreamt of. How the ball hadn't gone flying into the back of the net, she had no idea. But she had no time to dwell on that particular thought now, because Attitude was only a few yards away, ball firmly cradled in the crosse of her stick, eyes firmly focused on Richie, stomping very angrily towards her.
Fear welled up inside her. Proper, overwhelming, can't move a muscle fear. It felt like a completely new experience, which in itself seemed odd. Her mind screamed out at her to react but, momentarily, her body wouldn't obey, it was so afraid. In what seemed like a faraway place, the ring around her neck burned her flesh, almost as if trying to get her attention.
One word resounded through her head. 'REVENGE!' She knew what she had to do, and she didn't give a stuff about the consequences as she approached the woman who'd ruined it all.
The world had slowed, with the whole field caught up in a scene from a slow motion, high definition, action replay. Emma had stopped running, reeling in her stick, realising what had just happened. Richie stood frozen to the spot, too terrified to move. Attitude advanced menacingly towards the Salisbridge captain, raging anger swirling in her eyes.
Many hundreds looked on, aware in the back of their minds, even though they had no knowledge of this wonderful game, that a turning point had been reached. Something was about to unfold. Expectation engulfed the crowd.
Attitude's grimace transformed into the tiniest of grins as she put everything into powering the ball. It was a shot, certainly not a pass, just in front of her own goal, just aimed at a person rather than the netting between two sticks. That was some achievement. Also, probably the hardest and fastest one she'd ever let fly. A warm glow spread throughout her as something deep within was finally satisfied.
The ex-dragon saw what was coming from only three or so yards away. She had no chance... NONE! Still caught up in the slow motion replay, she looked on as the perfectly formed, spinning ball exploded out of Attitude's stick, heading directly towards her right eye. Images zipped through her mind. Feelings as well. She was aware of the ring, continuing to burn the skin beneath her top. Briefly, she knew solace, but we're talking about units of time only usually reserved for Grand Prix teams. And then every fibre, nerve ending... atom, exploded into action, like an Olympic sprinter out of the blocks. By now the orange ball had covered over half the distance, looking more like an out of control, raging sun, than something used to play this totally addictive, adrenaline filled, all consuming sport. But angles had been calculated, power transferred, agility and strength maximised, almost as if her old self (not that she knew any different) had stirred from somewhere deep inside, unlocking exactly what she required, exactly when needed. In a whirling blur, her stick came up, well... more round actually, stopping directly in front of her face, the ball cannoning into the pocket of her stick, the leathers and nylon cord being stretched to their limits, straining to contain such power, and stopping only a fraction short of the surface of Richie's right eyeball. If the take that Attitude had made only moments before had been good (and it had been) then a whole new scale of brilliance was needed to describe this. 'Godlike' and 'out of this world' were but a couple of ways to express accurately what had just happened.