The following people are heroes and true club legends: myself, Joel, O?, Bish, Dragonfly, and (yes) Iron. The remainder are cowards and shirkers.
After the first two games I thought we would coast it, especially when we went 2 goals up in the first five minutes in that 3-3 game. When we lost 2-1 to that two-man team somehow, I was extremely concerned. The 2-1 win with two goals in the last 10 mins (including a CPU jobber header) felt heaven-sent, and ultimately proved vital. The last game was pure terror - needing only a draw almost made it worse. When we got the goal, I thought that insurance would be enough. But then our keeper decided to let that in. And then it was pure backs to the wall and spare underwear time. But once Joel won that free-kick we embarked on perhaps the finest display of time-wasting I've ever seen. The final whistle brought relief, followed by elation. Finally, our goal was achieved.
At various points, I hated everyone - DF for contributing heavily to the 3-3 (but all was forgiven after his goal), Bish for giving away that pen (I know it wasn't his fault, but I had to hate someone), O and Joel for somehow conspiring to miss in that last game before they went ahead (I really have no idea what happened there), myself for missing a couple of easy chances in various games that proved pivotal. But by the end, I loved you all.
"From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That played with us upon Saint Barncancer’s day."