To hit the net and score a goal was already getting late. We were tired, ready to leave the field for our opponent. There attacking skills was top notch, none of us could mark successfully. The possession was 70-30 in favour of them. I think our club has beaten more than it can chew. To claim the cup is already a dream we have to do away with. We did the little we could in the first half and tried as much as much to make sure more goals aren't conceded in addition to the five goals already on ground. Yes, five.
The whistle was a relief, we make way for the dressing room where our coach was waiting angrily. Being seventy years old hasn't showed any sign on him at all. His eyes were red with mild anger but he tried to conceed it by saying 'well done boys' followed by some claps.
We knew we didn't do well in any way. He continued by asking what could be wrong, how did the match go from good to bad to worse. He looked into our eyes for answers. No one could explain. He then went on to charge us further and did some substitution.
We entered the field with a renewed energy, so was our opponent. Three minutes into the second half, we conceed another goal. We thought that wasn't enough, but not for this merciless goal scorers they have as forward players. They made sure our net was visited, tried and tested for goal every minutes. It was a depressing day for us.
We lost the cup, the match, respect and even our honour as one of Europe's best club team that day to the Germans.