The day began with a fashion emergency. Big Pete, our resident colossus, squeezed into an M size Footnik top before upgrading to an L. Even then, it was tight enough to make him look like he’d been shrink-wrapped, but that didn’t stop him from wreaking havoc on the pitch with 3 assists and a shot off the post in the opener. If there was a prize for the best-dressed player who also caused defenders to question their career choices, Pete would have won it hands down.

Our captain, Pabs, got off to a flying start before his calf muscle decided to pull the ejector seat lever. Forced to swap with Gen in goal, Pabs showed that leadership isn’t just about playing; it’s about hobbling valiantly to the sidelines when needed. Gen, before his outfield adventure, secured a clean sheet and proved he’s got the legs (and lungs) to hit a perfect cross-field ball with a peach of an assist.

Nao, our seasoned veteran at 48, ran the defense like a Swiss watch until the gears started grinding, resulting in some serious cramping. Nao swapped into goal and, in a twist worthy of Hollywood, didn’t let in a single goal thereafter. Rumor has it, we might have found our next keeper—cramps permitting.

Will, the man with a broom, swept up every stray ball at the back with aplomb, while Alex and Marko’s movement had opposition defenders spinning like tops. Unfortunately, Marko’s day ended with a dead leg courtesy of an enthusiastic opponent, proving that even in Masters football, you can still be on the receiving end of a classic crunching tackle.

Despite the injuries and the fact that we lost all but one of the coin tosses, meaning we always kicked west (good thing we love sunsets), the team pulled together in spectacular fashion. Each 16-minute game felt like a mini-epic, with everyone playing their hearts out.

A special mention to Footy Japan, who are gearing up to start a Masters league next season. With plans to secure a monthly slot at the newly turfed YC&AC, it promises to be family-friendly and perfect for post-match beers with all the teams. Given our performance, we’ll be raising a glass—or several—to our heroic squad of seven who battled injuries, tight shirts, and relentless westward kicks to emerge victorious.

Cheers to the champions! Here’s to many more games, less cramping, and better-fitting shirts.

See below for a taste of the action from Game 2.