'This is surreal', I thought. 'You're playing in the girls' cup final, Tabitha, in front of all of these people...and it feels AMAZING!'

I played the ball back to our centre half, Wendy, from kick-off. We tried to keep possession for a bit but Shevington applied an unbelievably quick press and they took control of the ball before we were able to string three passes together. That set the tone for the rest of the first half.

Shevington wore a kit that was yellow and black stripes: they looked like bees. And with the way the pressed us so quickly all over the pitch, they acted like bees, too. Whenever one of us got the ball, we'd find ourselves surrounded by 2 or 3 Shevington players in an instant. They swarmed us all over the pitch, preventing us from constructing any sort of passing game or finding any half-decent rhythm. And when they got hold of the ball, they were impossible to dispossess. They played the ball around us with such rapidity and calm that we were all left chasing shadows.

In the end, all we could do was arrange ourselves into a low block in front of our goal: make it difficult for them to break us down and penetrate into our box, forcing them to play hopeful crosses or shoot from distance. After hopelessly chasing for the ball for the first five minutes, sitting back into the low block did allow us to recover some energy. Plus, we were leaving fewer gaps for them to break through.

But that didn't hold them out for too long. 23 minutes into the game, still in our low block, a Shevington player picked up the ball 30 yards from goal and decried to have a pop shot. She didn't catch the ball fully, but just enough to have Zara in our goal scurrying to her right to cover the shot. As it was travelling towards goal, Wendy stuck out her leg in an effort to block it...but she didn't get enough on it, and only succeeding in deflecting the ball in the other direction. It diverted off her outstretched leg and flew into the back of our net. Zara was already diving to her right and had no time to shift her weight back the other way. We were 1-0 down.

As Shevington wheeled off to celebrate in the corner, I clapped my hands and told the team:

"Hey, heads up girls. It's only one goal...still plenty of time for us to pull this back."

I took kick-off again, and, much like the first kick-off, we were dispossessed after no more than five passes. It was clear that we would have to change our approach. Shevington were so much better than the teams that we had played previously. They were so much faster to the ball, so much more technical, so much more adept at passing. Playing out from the back and through the phases would not work against this lot.

As much as it was frustrating at the time, on reflection I have great admiration for Shevington, their players and their approach to football. The teams we had played so far were either a bit rough or a bit route one. They were comfortably the strongest team we had faced, and I actually thought they were better than the vast majority of boys' teams I'd played in my time. They were a great advertisement for the growth of the women's game and how much more proficient it has become.

The clock ticked down towards half-time and we remained largely in our low block. Aside from one breakaway opportunity, which had resulted in Evelyn narrowly striking the ball wide, we didn't get out of our half at all. But we were keeping the score to 1-0, which was good enough for now. Keep it like this and we still had time to turn it around in the second half. My main thinking was to get into half-time as we were, and listen to Miss Snell's words of wisdom - she'd know how we could get back into this match.

That was the intention, anyway, but on the 45th minute we conceded a corner. I took up my position on halfway, ready for the counter attack, but that ultimately would not materialise. Shevington floated in the corner. Zara came to punch it clear and missed the ball entirely, and there was a player free at the far post to nod her header into the empty net. There was no time to kick-off again as the referee blew his whistle for half-time. We were 2-0 down in the cup final.

"I'm so sorry girls", Zara said as we were all taking on fluids and eating oranges. "That second one was my fault. We shouldn't be 2-0 down."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up, Zara", I replied. "We win as a team and lose as a team."

I put my hand on her shoulder as reassurance. She smiled back meekly and mouthed, 'thanks.'

"Alright girls", Miss Snell started. "Not how we wanted the game to go but we can't undo what's happened. We just need to learn and adapt from here. There's still 45 minutes to go, so there's plenty of time for us to get the goals we need to reverse the scoreline. We're going to have to be brave if we're to win this, so no more staying in that low block. Amanda and Tabitha, I want you both pushing up onto their defenders, forcing them back into their own half. Their weakness lies in their full backs, so let's transition the ball out to our wingers in as few passes as possible. Evelyn and Belle, when you get the ball, drive at them, take them on. Let's step onto them this half, pressing them a bit more urgently. Come on girls, I know you've got this in you. Big push now."

We ran back onto the pitch to whoops and cheers from our supporters.

'Come on, Tabitha', I told myself. 'Big half, girl.'

Shevington kicked off. And unlike the first half, it was us swarming them. They managed to put together more passes than we'd managed from either of our kick-offs, but eventually they misplaced one and we had a throw-in on half-way. A much better start.

The game was much more even in the second half. I think it was a mixture of us being better and Shevington maybe tiring a bit. But we still were struggling to create any clear cut chances, and Zara was forced into a fine save low to her left to keep the score at 2-0. That brought a smile to her face: I think in her mind she felt that she'd redeemed herself a bit after her first half mishap.

Just after the hour mark, the ball broke my way midway through the Shevington half. I played it wide to Evelyn, who squared up their fullback. She cut inside and got to the edge of the penalty area before a recovering Shevington player slid in and took her standing leg. The ref blew to award us the free-kick.

Myself, Evelyn and Belle assembled around the ball. We were discussing what to do with it.

"You take it, Evelyn", I said. "It's too close to get it up and over the wall. Best bet is to whip it low and hard around the wall, to the keeper's side. Even if she saves it, we'll follow in for the rebound."

The girls agreed. Belle and I left Evelyn to place the ball down and take her steps back. The ref blew for her to take. She ran up and struck the ball towards the goalie's side, plenty of pace and whip on the strike. It beat the wall and hit the ground just inside the 6-yard box. The bounce of the ball deceived the keeper, and looped up over her outstretched glove. A huge cheer went up from our supporters. We were back to within one.

I sprinted into the goal to retrieve the ball and ran back with it to the centre circle. Game on!

This lit a spark in the team and we were much more active after that. We had more possession and were forcing Shevington into more uncharacteristic mistakes. They were getting frustrated, arguing with one another: this was a good sign.

But despite these frustrations and mistakes, we were unable to capitalise fully. A few half-chances fell here and there with myself, Belle and Amina all coming close to scoring. But we still couldn't find that elusive equalising goal.

We were becoming more and more desperate, too, as the clock ticked down towards full-time. Our chance at cup glory was slowly slipping away from us.

It was now into added time at the end of the game. The referee told us there'd be two more minutes to play because of stoppages due to substitutions.

Shevington were trying to see the game out by keeping hold of the ball. And they were doing a darned good job of it. On our last reserves of energy, we were chasing the ball for all we were worth, but nothing we did could dispossess Shevington of the ball. They had regained their composure and were doing a professional job of closing out the match.

That was until their defender picked up the ball and tried to play it back to their keeper. She stumbled as she tried to play the pass, and didn't connect with it fully. The ball ran loose.

Realising the opportunity, I sprinted forward and was first to the ball. What's more, I was 1-on-1 with the keeper, just outside the penalty area. I took it into the box and looked up at goal.

'This is the chance', I thought. 'You can take this to penalties'.

I pulled my right leg back, ready to shoot, when I saw Amanda running up alongside me out of the corner of my eye. She was in the perfect position for the square ball. The keeper came out to close me down, and as she did so I laid the ball off to my left. The keeper fell at my feet, but the ball had already made its way to Amanda. Calmly, she slid the ball into the empty net. That was the final kick of the game. We had drawn level, 2-2, and taken the game to penalties!

We gathered around Miss Snell at the sideline.

"Well done girls!" she said. "That was a monumental effort. But we're not done yet. This game is here for the taking. Zara, make yourself big and imposing, and choose which way you'll dive early. That'll give you the best chance of saving their spot kicks. As for takers, I don't want to force anyone to take one who doesn't want to. So, can I have five volunteers, please?"

Four hands went up immediately: Belle, Amanda, Evelyn and Amina. Nobody else looked so keen, though. Then a fifth hand went up: mine.

"Great. Five fab takers plus a brilliant goalie. Good luck girls!"

I jogged up to the referee for another coin toss alongside the Shevington captain. I lost it this time, and Shevington opted to take first. I was offered the choice of end to take the penalties at...and I chose the same end at which I'd missed in the boys' cup final.

We all shook hands again and I rejoined my teammates on the halfway line.

The Shevington number 9 strode up to take the first penalty of the shootout. Zara bounced up and down on her goal line, trying to make herself as big and imposing as possible. The Shevington player took a short run-up...and sent Zara the wrong way. 1-0 Shevington.

Belle was our first taker, and she began walking up as soon as Shevington had scored their penalty. She also took a short run-up...but her effort was tame, and the keeper was able to smother it low to her left. Advantage Shevington.

Belle was disconsolate as she made her way back to us on half-way. We all gave her hugs and expressed reassuring words, but they were little help right now. She sat for the rest of the shootout on the floor at the end of the line, knees clutched to her chest. I knew how it felt to miss in a shootout, and empathised with the anguish Belle was experiencing. But I couldn't think too deeply about that now. The shootout was far from over, and only positive thoughts would give us any chance of victory.

Shevington scored their second penalty to put them 2-0 up. Then Amanda took our second kick...and she scored, blasting the ball confidently down the centre of the goal. Shevington also scored their third kick, while Evelyn scored her penalty shortly after. The shootout stood at 3-2 to Shevington.

One of Shevington's centre halves walked up to take their fourth penalty. She looked nervous. 'Come on Zara', I thought, 'pull something out of the bag here, girl!'

But as it turned out, Zara wasn't needed. The player dragged her penalty past the post. 3-2 still, but Amina had the chance to pull us back level. And she did just that, with aplomb, crashing the ball low and hard into the bottom left corner, out of reach of the diving Shevington goalkeeper. 3-3.

Shevington's captain was next up to take. She had probably been the best player in the match. She was a diminutive figure but was so graceful on the ball; she glided past players with ease and could play the ball around effortlessly. It would take something special for her to miss, was my impression.

She strode up and struck the ball well. It was arcing high towards the top-left corner...but wasn't destined for the back of the net. Heroically, Zara dived the right way and stuck out her right arm as far as it would stretch. Her fingertips just got to the ball, and she tipped it onto the crossbar. It smacked against the woodwork and rebounded out. It was still 3-3.

Zara beat her chest triumphantly and let out a big roar. Justifiably so...she had just given us the chance to win the final. She'd just given me the chance to win it!

I began the long and lonely walk from halfway to the penalty spot. I walked past the Shevington captain on my way...she looked devastated.

My legs were shaking and my mind was racing. It felt like an eternity before I had the ball in my hands, ready to take my kick. I settled it down on the spot and took three strides backwards and one to my left. I puffed out my cheeks and eyed the goalkeeper. She was stood stock still on her line. Her eyes were menacing and piercing straight through me.

I began my run up. Head down, I focused fully on the ball. I knew where I intended to put it: high into the top-right corner. Just like how I planned to dispatch my penalty in the boys' cup final. I connected with the ball and sent it in just that direction.

I looked up as I struck the ball. It was heading in the right direction...but the keeper was headed that way, too. My heart beat palpably as the ball travelled towards the goal. How can a moment that really lasted only a few seconds in reality have felt like a lifetime?

The keeper was close to it, stretching ever fibre of her being to get to the ball...but to no avail! It nestled into the top corner.

I'd done it!

We'd done it!

We had won the cup!

Complete euphoria engulfed me. I've never known elation like it. I wheeled away towards Zara, who was standing just off to the left of the goal. As I was running, I impulsively pulled off my jersey and flung it high into the air behind me, doing my best impression of Chloe Kelly in the Euros final. Zara ran towards me and I jumped into her arms. She held me aloft as the team came flooding towards us to celebrate. She let me down and we were soon all huddled around, dancing and chanting in unison:

"Championes, championes, ole, ole, ole!"

If I could relive any moment of my life again, it would be that one right there. It was pure unbridled joy of the highest order.

We made our way over to the sideline after a little further chanting and celebrating. As we walked over, Zara picked up my jersey and handed it to me. I pulled it back on.

"Oh, girls", Miss Snell said, tears running down her face. "I can't say much more than well done. I'm so proud of you".

We all crowded around her in a group hug.

We waited as the trophy presentation was set up. Then we were asked to form a guard of honour, to clap the Shevington players through as they collected their runners-up medals. After they had walked through and collected them, they too formed a guard of honour, this time for us to walk through.

We lined up, and I again handed the armband to Katie, who we had stood at the back of the queue.

"You'll be the first person to lift a football trophy while wearing a dress!" I joked.

Then, we walked through to collect our medals. There were a series of official-looking people stood in a row who we were all to shake hands with; I'll be honest, I didn't have a clue who any of them were. Well, apart from the mayor, that is...his big gold chain was a bit of a giveaway!

I was bedecked with my medal and made my way over to the team, who had gathered off to the side in preparation for the trophy lift.

Katie was the last to receive her medal, and once it was placed over her head she was led over to the trophy. The mayor handed it over to her, and she walked with it in hand over to us.

We all cowered low, waving our hands towards the ground in anticipation. Katie also crouched low as she began approaching, then took up position at the front by me. She held it out for me to take one of the handles.

"Together on three", she said.

I took the handle.

"Ok...1,2,3."

We lifted the trophy high over our heads while the team all sprang up from their crouched positions. An enormous cheer went up from the crowd. And we broke out into another chorus of: "championes, championes, ole, ole, ole!"

Our mission was complete: we had won the cup!