GENEVA TOURNAMENT - MAY 2002 To the many millions of football supporters around the globe, the world cup is a rich oasis in the baron wasteland of the close season. When the masses were tuning in to watch Brazil beat Germany, it was not hard to draw comparisons to our own little "World Cup Final" only a few weeks previous. Nestled in the leafy suburbs between Lake Geneva and the foothills of the Alps, a tiny stadium lay host to a European football tournament with all the excitement and enthusiasm of it's more illustrious counterpart. The cold wet February morning, when over 60 players from across the country gathered in the midlands, for the National Gateway football trials, seemed a distant memory in the clear blue sky and the sweltering Geneva sun. The lucky few were now slapping each others backs and shacking hands, wishing each with luck as they lined up for the final game of this remarkable tournament. It has never failed to surprise me how quickly the players and coaches bond together, supporting an encouraging each other at every turn. Their enthusiasm never faltered and as the team took to the field for the last time, amid rapturous applause from the 2,000 or so local crowd, we all felt a shiver of emotion rise from deep within. Football does strange things to people, but when Richard Allen, who had spent most of the tournament as a substitute, justified his start in the final by knocking in the second goal, the coaches were seen charging down the touchline, arms aloft, screaming and whooping like deranged fools. By the time that the bench had calmed down, Photo moment - By 'eck we actually got it!!! it suddenly dawned on Richard what he'd actually done, what he'd actually achieved. We were so choked that we missed the opportunity of snapping one of the most accomplished goal celebrations we'd ever witnessed. It matched the goal itself, and delighted the ecstatic crowd. The next goal was unsurpassable. The referee had pulled play back for a free kick some 40 yards out. I dug deep for some tactical genius that would dispel a period of relentless pressure. I drew in a deep breath and the best that I could come up with was: "... Lucas... Have A Crack". You could hear a pin drop. It was like "Escape To Victory" all over again. The crowd were silent. It was like the obligatory slow motion finale! They would have been on the edge of their seats if there had been any! Lucas played the staring role to perfection. Crack it he did. David Beckham would have been proud! The keeper didn't have a chance. The commentator was euphoric and the applause received was electric. The atmosphere was unbelievable and when the final whistle went to signal a triumphant 4-1 victory, the teams were applauded off to a standing ovation. The perfect way to finish this once in a lifetime experience. This was their final, something that would be savoured for many years to come. Until a few days ago, most of the players had never even met let alone played together. Yet here they were, living all our childhood dreams and representing their country in the greatest game in the world. Envy?… It doesn't even come close. Mark Summers Team Manager