It doesn’t get big­ger than this.

For Trinidad and To­ba­go, Thurs­day night’s en­counter with Ja­maica is more than a match; it’s a call to arms. It’s about stand­ing tall as a foot­balling na­tion, prov­ing that be­lief still lives here, and that our colours still com­mand re­spect.

If ever there was a time when your sup­port mat­tered, when show­ing up, stand­ing to­geth­er and be­liev­ing made a dif­fer­ence, that time is now.

There are those who doubt, those who won­der if this team, this jour­ney, this mis­sion, is wor­thy of progress. But that’s their sto­ry, not ours. The men wear­ing red, white, and black have lived a dif­fer­ent re­al­i­ty — one of end­less trav­el, train­ing ses­sions, set­backs, sac­ri­fice, and be­lief.

In the last few months, the prepa­ra­tion be­hind the scenes has been re­lent­less. Count­less meet­ings, back-to-back calls, fit­ness up­dates, med­ical clear­ances, resched­uled flights, name changes and late-night co­or­di­na­tion, all to make sure that head coach Dwight Yorke has his best pos­si­ble group to­geth­er, even if just for three full train­ing days. Every hour has mat­tered. Every de­tail fine-tuned.

And it hasn’t been smooth sail­ing. We’ve dealt with sus­pen­sions to key play­ers in the away clash against Ja­maica, last-minute visa chal­lenges, in­juries dur­ing warm-ups, and tough of­fi­ci­at­ing calls that could’ve bro­ken a weak­er side.

Not to men­tion, a few months ago, a for­mer U.S. cap­tain bold­ly pre­dict­ed on tele­vi­sion that Trinidad and To­ba­go would be “among the whip­ping boys” of this group and would be food for a Cu­ra­cao team that im­pressed dur­ing the Gold Cup. But that on­ly lit a fire. Every set­back, every word of doubt, has shaped the re­solve you’ll see on Thurs­day night.

Be­hind the cur­tain, the work has been round-the-clock. From dis­sect­ing scout­ing re­ports, com­mu­ni­cat­ing with play­ers to make sure their minds are right, speak­ing with au­thor­i­ties to sort out pa­per­work and en­sur­ing fi­nances are in place to meet dead­lines. It’s meant mak­ing sure our lock­er rooms, med­ical and re­hab ar­eas, and train­ing fa­cil­i­ties, both at home and abroad, are all tai­lored to the play­ers’ needs. These are the small things that nev­er make the head­lines but form the back­bone of a na­tion­al team’s per­for­mance.

When you look at this team, you see a group that has en­dured it all, the highs that brought hope, the lows that test­ed faith. But through it all, there’s been re­silience. There’s been be­lief.

As Yorke put it ear­li­er this week:

“We’ve had to fight for every bit of progress, and that’s what makes this group spe­cial. We’re not ask­ing for any­thing easy. We just want the op­por­tu­ni­ty to show how much it means to Trinidad and To­ba­go and for every­one who is part of this."

They know what’s on the line. A win keeps the dream alive. A win fu­els a na­tion’s hope, es­pe­cial­ly the younger ones watch­ing, who might still be de­cid­ing whether this sport is worth chas­ing.

And make no mis­take, Ja­maica will come ready. A coun­try still re­cov­er­ing from the dev­as­ta­tion of Hur­ri­cane Melis­sa, they’ll car­ry an ex­tra sense of pur­pose, a de­ter­mi­na­tion to lift spir­its back home. They know that three points put them in con­trol of the group.

But our War­riors know that too.

“When you wear this shirt, you don’t just play for your­self, you play for your fam­i­ly, for the peo­ple who stop you on the street, for every young child who posed for a pho­to or want­ed a sig­na­ture dur­ing our pro­mo­tion tours and those kids who dream of one day be­ing in our place,” said cap­tain Kevin Moli­no. “We’ve been through a lot, but the fight’s still in us. Thurs­day is about show­ing that.”

This is about pride. About show­ing that Trinidad and To­ba­go foot­ball still mat­ters, not just in re­sults, but in heart, in en­er­gy, in what it means to our peo­ple.

For every fan who has ever cheered, doubt­ed, or be­lieved, now’s the time to be part of some­thing that could reignite it all.

Thurs­day isn’t just an­oth­er game. It’s a test of char­ac­ter, a call to uni­ty, and a re­minder that our foot­ball still has soul.

When the whis­tle blows and the an­them plays, and the flags start to wave, we’ll all be there know­ing ful­ly well what a vic­to­ry will mean in the end.

Shaun Fuentes is the head of TTFA Com­mu­ni­ca­tions. He was a FI­FA Me­dia Of­fi­cer at the 2010 FI­FA World Cup in South Africa and 2013 FI­FA U-20 World Cup in Turkey. He has trav­eled to over 90 coun­tries dur­ing his jour­ney in sport. “Pro Look” is his week­ly col­umn on foot­ball, sport, cul­ture and the hu­man side of the game. The views ex­pressed are sole­ly his and not a rep­re­sen­ta­tion of any or­gan­i­sa­tion. shaunfuentes@ya­hoo.com