The final week of the season was intense.
Every training session was filled with fierce, quiet energy. The league table taped to the changing room wall reminded everyone of what was at stake: Crestwood 45, Riverton 44, Westford 42.
A draw wouldn't be enough. If they drew and Riverton won (which they likely would against a mid-table team), the title would slip away. After an unbeaten streak of 17 games, it all came down to 90 minutes.
Their opponent was Harrington, the team sitting at the bottom of the table, with zero wins, one draw, and 51 goals conceded.
On paper, it looked like an easy win. But Coach Shaw viewed it as a trap.
"They are the most dangerous team we could play," he shouted on Tuesday, his voice echoing in the cold air. "You see their record and think this is over. You think this is a party. You think you just have to show up."
He paced in front of them, clearly frustrated by their misplaced confidence. "Riverton wants us to think that. A team with nothing to lose and no wins all season would love to be the one to take a championship away from you. It's the only trophy they can get. They will play without fear, and you are not ready for that. This is not just a match, it's a hazard. You slip, and it's all over."
His message, along with the memory of the near disaster against Northbridge, hung over the team. The final sessions felt more like paranoia than celebration. Every pass was sharp, every drill executed with fierce focus.
For Ethan, it was a week of lasts. The last time he would drive to the training ground for a full tactical session. The last time he would run sprints with Mason and Callum as his teammates. The move to West Brom, which once seemed distant, now felt like a finish line. This marked the end of his childhood.
In the changing room on Friday, Callum was nervously checking his phone, a rare sight. "What has you so jumpy?" Mason asked while taping his ankle.
"It's Mia," Callum whispered, referring to the girl in the red hat. "She's coming. Her and her little brother. I told her we were going to win the league for her."
Mason stopped, disbelief on his face. "You're an idiot. You promised a win? On the final day? You've jinxed it. You've jinxed the entire season for a girl."
"I didn't jinx it!" Callum exclaimed, panic in his eyes. "I just... stated a fact."
"It's not a fact until the whistle blows," Mason replied. He looked at Ethan. "Tell him he's an idiot."
Ethan, packing his kit bag for the final time, smiled. "We're not going to lose, Mason." He turned to Callum. "And you won't look like a fool. We've come too far."
The solid confidence in his voice calmed the room. This was Ethan's team, and he was ready.
That night, as he laid out his kit, he felt the weight of it all. His final match. The town's expectations. The West Brom contract. The England caps. It felt heavy, but it didn't scare him anymore.
He remembered his first day at Crestwood, a nervous 13-year-old, amazed by the perfect pitches. He thought of the U14 final. He recalled Coach Shaw's harsh, unwavering belief in him. He thought of his two friends, the heart and the fire.
He had one more game to play. One more game to secure their legacy. One more game before he said goodbye.