The intensity of the big stage plays havoc with your thoughts, writes Daniel McBreen whose two Grand Finals had very different outcomes.
Tension changes everything. It’s the reason the greatest players make mistakes, the reason no football script is a foregone conclusion. And it makes you do things that years later you still don’t quite understand.
People remember the 2010-11 Grand Final as one of the greatest in the history of the A-League Men – or maybe most dramatic is a better phrase considering I ended up on the wrong side of history that day. Going 2-0 up in extra time away to the best side in the competition, only to be pegged back and lose on penalties is bad enough. But how we lost on penalties is anther level.
BUY TICKETS TO THE ISUZU UTE A-LEAGUE GRAND FINAL
The day before the Grand Final we had a light training session at Suncorp Stadium, ending with a possession game. As it went on, Graham Arnold pulled players out one by one and got them to walk from halfway to the penalty spot, and take a spot-kick, in case we went to penalties.
As I walked down, I kept thinking: we’re in Brisbane Roar’s home ground, what are the odds against there not being someone here taking notes on who takes their penalties in what direction? So instead of shooting to my left, which was my plan for the shoot-out, I went to my right. Job done, no problem.
As I said, tension changes everything; 24 hours later, I found myself taking the same walk from the halfway line, after Brisbane had scored twice in the last four minutes to peg us back. Both teams had successfully scored their first two penalties, and the noise was incredible.
Whether I double-bluffed myself, or simply lost focus in the bedlam, I’ll never know. But all my pre-laid plans went out the window. I struck the ball to my right, and Michael Theo was already leaping to his left before the ball had moved a few millimetres. He pushed it wide, and the sensation was horrible.
A minute later, Pedj Bojic stepped up and Theo went the right way yet again – three out of four times – and made a save. We’d lost the Grand Final. It’s not a feeling that goes away easily.
Two years later, for some reason everything was different. Although we’d come second to Western Sydney, there was just a total belief in our squad that we were the best team in the competition, and that history was ours to make.
The night before the game we watched Mike Bassett: England Manager, and laughed ourselves senseless. We were so relaxed.
We’d had a bad year with penalties, missing five, and I was nominated for duty. Even before we got to the stadium, assistant coach Phil Moss had nominated the takers if we went to a shoot-out and which way they would go. No second-guessing, no last-minute wavering.
And of course, in the 90 minutes, we got a penalty, at a point we were 1-0 up. We had a routine, where the taker would hold the ball until the goalkeeper was back on their line, put it down on the spot, step back and take it with no hesitation.
This time I knew where it was going – top corner. Arnie couldn’t watch but I knew that this time it was going in. And that was the point I knew we were going to win the Grand Final.
