Round of 16: Hosokai High V Sanshoku

…

“Quit? Is that a joke?”

“N- I, I just mean that if just playing means you can’t enjoy it anymore then why go through it?”

He pushed off the desk violently. “Because it’s my dream!” He shouted. “I’ve not gone through all the hard work, all the pain, just to give up now!”

“Why? You know it’s going to be painful, if you don’t want to go through that then why do you want to keep going?”

He didn’t respond and sank into his chair, seeing every outcome again.

“Because every second of my life I’ve fought to be where I am now. When I was a kid, it was all I ever wanted, but it’s not a want anymore, it’s so much more than that. I don’t WANT to win this cup… I NEED to win.”

“Then win.”

He stared at her.

“Don’t think about anything else, just win.”

*-*-*

The day had arrived. The group stages were complete and left just 16 teams to battle it out for the trophy, 4 wins, and you hold the gold. Hosokai and Sanshoku had a long history together. The final of 88 that saw 7 players sent off, the group stage clash of 92 where a brawl broke out, sending 5 students and a coach to the hospital, one of whom would never play again. They still remember the battle in 2014, Hosokai had a 4 goal lead with just half an hour to play, yet Sanshoku clawed their way back to take it to extra time, winning once a full 2 hours had been played.

In the stands were proud parents, some that had even been a part of this illustrious history, along with students from each school cheering on their peers.

It was an event, the weight of which was unbearable. Hosokai lined up in their home kits, purple with a faint black design, black sleeves and collar. The socks and shorts were almost fully black, with a purple trim.

Out came Sanshoku, in their red, white and black. Just looking at them, you could see a height advantage, something that would already put Hosokai at a disadvantage. But this team was on another level. Each one of them radiated a dominating aura, their key man Renzo even more so. This kid was not quite Miyamura level, but he could give him a good fight. Known for his flexibility, able to get into positions unreachable for normal players. So far, he’d racked up a cool 13 goals this season, and that was after coming back from a six month injury.

The handshake took place and they took their positions on the field ready for kick off. Renzo was in the centre, of the field, of attention, all eyes fell on him, and he enjoyed it.

Miyamura felt all the worry he had from the previous few days, the thought of this being the last game, the thought of the trophy being raised by another team, of a future without the sport he loved.

“It will end, but this day is yours.” The words of his coach echoed, all the dread fell deeper into his psyche. Everything went silent, he felt the wind in his hair, the cold bite his skin and the grass below his feet. He could hear his teammates, taking deep breaths, he realised they were not individuals here… they were one.

The wait was over.

The match began.

*-*-*

It was a slow start, played back to the back line of Sanshoku. They were known as a defensive team, embracing a similar system to Hosokai. 3 defenders that sat back and worked together as a wall, two wing backs that were tasked with acting as 4th and 5th defenders when they were under pressure, and kickstarting the attack. The difference lay in the attack, Hosokai had two goalscorers with a creator sat further back. Sanshoku played 3 forwards, two on the wings that would either cross from the edge of the field or cut past the defenders.

This 3 pronged attack had its advantages, it suited Sanshoku’s counter attacking style, utilising pacey attackers playing high up, so that when they won the ball deep into their own half, they could make a quick string of passes and catch the defence off guard. It was a tried and true system that had seen a lot of use in the biggest competitions of the sport. But, it had a weakness.

If the defence was wary, and kept enough players back, these pacey attackers could do nothing but run forward, and with there being so much space between the front three, passing was a surefire way to lose possession.

Of course, every system has its weak points. While the 3-4-1-2 system of Hosokai worked well for a slower build up, allowing the attackers a chance to pass back and try a different attacking angle, it left their wings vulnerable. Hosokai’s wingers were quick, and had the stamina of an ostrich on crack, but because they had so much to do, so much field to cover, they tired so much faster than they would in Sanshoku’s system.

Their defence was testing the waters, they could look down the passing lanes and see the individual battles taking place between opposing players. The winger dropped a shoulder, darting past the defender… it showed who could outmanoeuvre who, and where the weak point was.

Sanshoku’s first move was to be made, the defender placed a simple pass along the defence and it found its way to the wings, it would be their main battleground. Miyamura was acting as the ace, the creator, and the watchtower. He needed to read his opponents, see what would come next, and, just like the coach had said, they would try to play short passes to open space for their wingers, and cause an overload.

Just as they predicted. They pulled in Nezuma in the centre, creating space for a quick pass to their wings, but they were caught.

“Their tactic, is for us to panic”, the coach advised them before the game. “They want to pull you out of formation so that they can get behind you, and rattle us.”

The Sanshoku winger smirked, seeing their game plan going swimmingly as always. But when he looked ahead of him, searching for the defender that would try and take the ball from him, he couldn’t believe that there was no one there.

“Therefore, we start with a man to man cover, then switch to zonal!” Miyamura celebrated.

The winger panicked, as soon as he found an angle to pass, it was sealed, when he tried to pull in a defender to open a passing lane, the defender sat back and guarded his post. It was like he was on his own private island, trying to reach out for help but struggling to cross the ocean.

No matter what he tried, it failed and it frustrated him, but frustration is exactly what Hosokai wanted. The winger decided that if the defence wouldn’t go to him, he would go to them, and sprinted down the wing. When he reached a defender he tried trickery, running past the ball so he could step back and go the other way. It worked… but it was exactly what they wanted, they switched to a full press, it didn’t matter if he had teammates open now, there were at least 3 defenders directly in his face, and before he could react and drag it back he lost possession.

It was time for a Hosokai to counter. One quick ball up to Miyamura was an easy feat, Sanshoku had pushed way too far up. His first touch was unbelievable as always, stopping a ball going 30mph with ease, forcing it to spin on the spot he needed it and picking out a perfect, arched pass to his teammate in the box. Watari let it bounce, then swung his leg like a whip, placing the ball past the keeper to score the first of the match

Hosokai 1 - 0 Sanshoku.

*-*-*

Natsuki cheered. He was wearing the Hosokai purple, chowing down on a few sticks of Yakitori.

The match resumed, and he settled down, keeping his eye on his roommate.

“That’s one, keep the clean sheet Hosokai!”

“Clean sheet?”

He could recognise her voice now, he was used to her complaints in the club room. “A clean sheet is when the other team doesn't score against you. I’m surprised you’d be interested in this sort of thing, Kotobuki.”

She sat near him, not on the same row but close enough they could chat.

“Well, you never know where you’ll find inspiration… shouldn’t you be with your friends? I didn’t picture you a lackey.”

“Lackey?” He turned to face her, “We’re friends, if they’re all busy and I’m not what’s so bad about them asking me to help them? I’d imagine you and Koma do that stuff all the time”

“Not exactly” she muttered.

*-*-*

The match continued on, Hosokai were comfortable. Passing the ball around their defence to pull in the attack line. This then splits the attack and midfield, allowing space for the next pass. Further on, they tried tricky pass and go tactics, in which Miyamura was the centrepiece, playing the pass forward and taking it back should that lane close.

He was good at this, he was composed, with good eyes. The next pass found Gen in oceans of space, he took the shot, though ricocheted on its journey, the keeper managed to claw at it to take it past the post.

Half time was fast approaching, they were confident they could hold out.

But confidence is the killer of common sense.

Renzo took hold of the ball and played it down the wing as per usual and Hosokai sat back, letting them roam. The attacker waited for the right time, and played the pass.

But Hosokai wasn’t expecting Renzo to take it back and volley it on the edge. He missed, but it was a warning.

*-*-*

Half time was called and the teams left the field for their mid game break. Their coaches had given them their instructions and it was time for them to be back on the field.

Sanshoku had changed their formation, they were known as the team of 3 as they used three attackers in 3 lanes. But this was way different.

Their striker was substituted off for another midfielder, more defensively solid which would help them stop Hosokai getting another but it was hardly going to get them any closer… until they realised it.

Renzo was very similar to Miyamura, they were the same sort of player, very talented creators, a little weak defending but good at long range shooting.

So why was Renzo now playing striker? Simple. A false 9.

In football, numbers are associated with positions, 1 is normally a goalkeeper, a 10 is a creative midfielder (Ala Miyamura) and a 9 is usually your main goal scorer. However, a false 9 is a 10 playing further up. The best way to use a false 9, is to utilise fast wingers that will become attacking threats.

So whereas in a normal 3 man attack, the wingers would cross the ball in and create for the striker, a false 9 attack had the striker be a creator.

Sure enough Sanshoku’s wingers were playing on the opposite sides than they had in the first half, and it was becoming a bit of a challenge.

Renzo took control and his wingers cut into the defence. He found a quick pass that was just about blocked.

The ball then found a pretty tired Miyamura, he knew they needed another goal but because of the extra defensive player, it was becoming difficult to break them down

Just as he found a passing angle.

The midfielder went in for a challenge, and it was a rough one. The blades on his boot jammed into Miyamura’s ankle. As he fell he cried out in agony.

The player was booked but play resumed. Miyamura was pulled off by the medical team.

Hosokai could hold a little while, but the attack was none existent, the strikers had no one to pass to, in the end they lost possession. Each Sanshoku attack was like a punch to the gut, it only takes a few before you're on the ground gasping for air. And finally, they broke through.

Hosokai 1 - 1 Sanshoku.

*-*-*

The last few seconds were ticking down, it was all for this moment. Tie game but Miyamura knew this was the moment of destiny. He was back on, despite the protests of his coach and the medics. But he needed this, he would fight through the pain.

A fake roll back through the defender’s legs got him some space, there were just three ahead of him and they were marked heavily. His energy was gone and he was struggling to keep on his feet, his ankle was screaming at him to stop but it was all futile, Miyamura was on another plane of existence. He didn’t see the crowd beyond, he didn’t hear their cheers, he didn’t feel the pain… every sense he had converged at one point.

The next defender rushed in, Kyo didn’t even waste the time to deceive, he just pushed forward and shoved through, he took the shot, as a lion would pounce on a wounded beast. It was picture perfect, hit with so much force it left the sight of the players around him, the keeper couldn’t do anything other than watch it rebound off the crossbar, leaving a massive dent.

It fell to Sanshoku on the edge, but Hosokai had lost their spirit and were slow to react. The hall flew to the other half where Renzo was. He carried it far.

“Stop him!” Miyamura cried out, hopeless in this situation and forced to watch. His teammates in the back line held strong, but Renzo was a battery, his gas tank never dipped below 50% and he had pace to boot. A few step overs and a quick drop of the shoulder took him past Eizo, just the keeper left to beat.

Everything was in slow motion as Renzo took the shot. The trail behind the ball showed Miyamura a timeline of his journey thus far, joining the team, being given the jersey, playing his first game, his first goal, the first victory and the first loss.

But the end didn’t come. Somehow, some way, the Keeper Tenma stabbed at the ball, catching it with his fingertip, just enough to push it onto the crossbar and have it bounce past Renzo and straight to the Hosokai defence.

“TENMAAA!” His teammates cheered. The crowd exploded, Tenma was slow getting up, shaking his arm as he’d stretched a bit too far. But they were on the counter now, it zipped up the field like a lightning bolt, from defence to attack. Miyamura analysed the passing lanes ahead and saw Watari curve a run past the defender.

The pass was made, it was the end, Watari wouldn’t miss!

At least, he wouldn’t if he got the chance.

The defender saw no other way, he grabbed Watari by the collar and threw him back.

The referee called the foul and he was shown a red card. So late in the game, it was a death sentence, but Miyamura knew they needed to score here, and he stood over the ball.

They had discussed their tactics about these, free kicks on the edge of the opponent’s box. All of it was for this moment, he looked at his attack line and they nodded back to him.

The free kick was taken, it was a cross rather than a shot, but Sanshoku were just about able to knock it away. Just before it connected with Nezuma’s head, it was blocked by Renzo, acrobatically kicking it away in midair.

It landed ahead of Miyamura, he changed directions quickly but he felt his ankle twist wrong as he placed his foot. Can’t worry about that now! “Fight through it!” He screamed.

Miyamura took the shot, at the edge of the box with the outside of his foot, curving it into the top corner, past the keeper.