Len Doungel holding off Tiri. Daniel Chima Chukwu bullying Sandesh Jhingan. Greg Stewart running at three green-and-maroon shirts. Ritwik Das turning on the spot, and without taking a touch, without hesitation, finding the near bottom corner.
If ever a goal represented a team, this would be it. The grit in the face of unenviable odds (of Doungel), the physical intensity (of Chima), the directness and skill (of Stewart), the confidence and nous (of Ritwik). All this done against opponents, who were, on paper, supposed to be superior, individually and collectively. How fitting, then, that it was the goal that ensured Jamshedpur FC lifted the ISL League Shield, the first piece of silverware in their short history.
That Ritwik goal had made it Jamshedpur 1, ATK Mohun Bagan 0 in the 56th minute of the last match of the league stage. That's what it would remain. A forgotten kid from the Mohun Bagan academy had beaten this latest iteration of India's grand old club. And at the end of it all, after 97 long minutes... Jamshedpur FC were crowned champions.
Let that sink in.
Jamshedpur FC. Champions.
It may not have been the ending that anyone predicted, but it was no accident. This was their seventh win in a row, an ISL record. It took their tally to 43 points, another league record. Owen Coyle has fashioned a team who embody his very best quality on and off the field - relentless optimism - and they have repaid him with glory.
Look at those involved in the goal - Doungel had been let go by FC Goa last season, contract allowed to run out. Chima had been harried out of SC East Bengal this January, dismissed as a failure. Greg Stewart had been plucked from the upper echelons of Scottish football and convinced to ply his trade in the heat and humidity of Goa. Ritwik had been released by the Kerala Blasters this summer and had seemed consigned to that stereotypical utility-player journeyman career which dots Indian football. Not anymore.
It's a squad made of misfits and discarded talent and potential has-beens, and Coyle has made them all believe. Earlier in the match, for instance, Das had mucked up a superb 2-on-1 opportunity, fluffing a straightforward pass to Chukwu. But when the ball landed at his feet in the 57th minute, there were no second thoughts, no nervousness. Belief.
They had started the match nervously, though, the galacticos of ATK Mohun Bagan bearing down on them. Liston Colaco and Roy Krishna and Joni Kauko and Manvir Singh... and they'd had to batten down the hatches, weather the storm. They did this with a combination of bravery (Eli Sabia and Peter Hartley putting their heads where most people wouldn't put their feet), discipline (in the middle of the park, Jitendra Singh and Pranoy Halder remained remarkably calm in the face of growing tension) and plain ol' luck (a Hartley handball inside his box wasn't spotted by the ref).
Even at their most nervous, though, they never backed down. And that's what it takes to win a league - bravery, discipline, a dash of luck, and loads of belief.
The match, as was the whole season, was expertly managed by Coyle. He set out a clear gameplan and made decisive substitutions. Every component of his unit did their job, and did it well. In goal, TP Rehenesh, notorious for making silly mistakes at crucial times, didn't put a foot, or glove, wrong. The defence in front of him held their own, helped by the hardworking midfield ahead of them. The front four, meanwhile, never stopped asking questions of the Bagan defence, their aggression and control allowing their backline to breathe time and again. After they took the lead, they looked ever so comfortable. Even though they were helped by some questionable tactics (and substitutions - why keep Kiyan Nassiri on the bench for 84 minutes when you need goals?), it is a measure of their champion quality that they never really looked like conceding a goal, let alone three.
"Teams like ours aren't supposed to win [silverware]," captain Hartley would say after the match. He's right. Fairytales are for the books. They have no place in a world where the powerful and mighty have always had their way. So once in a while, when they do come true, when an underdog ends up the winner, it feels... nice. If that isn't the greatest triumph of them all, what is?