In sport, pressure never really goes away. It shifts, it builds, it cools, but it’s always there. Players feel it on the pitch, coaches feel it on the bench, and everybody else outside has an opinion on how it should be handled. After a dip in performance, the voices get louder — fans, past players, critics, even the “wanna-be coaches” who dissect every kick from the safety of their keyboard.
That’s where the national football team finds itself now. One point from two games in the World Cup qualifiers. Not where they wanted to be, not a crisis either but enough to open the floodgates of commentary. Some of it is fair, some of it is harsh, and some of it just slides into pure noise. And I know even writing this might invite a few digs my way, but that’s the nature of it.
What’s interesting is how differently other sports can be looked at. When Keshorn Walcott threw gold at the 2025 World Championships in Tokyo a few days ago, it wasn’t preceded by weeks of hype. The same with Jereem Richards when he stood tall on the podium. We knew they were on the plane to Tokyo, but the build-up wasn’t electric. Maybe it was drowned out by the Caribbean Premier League (CPL) or by football chatter. And yet, on the day, they delivered for T&T. Quiet build-up, loud result.
Football, like cricket, doesn’t get that luxury. The game carries too much history, too much passion. Every time the national team plays, the microscope is on them. A misplaced pass or failure to make the perceived right substitution is a big talking point. A tactical decision isn’t just a strategy; it’s an argument in a bar or on a group chat. That’s the burden of football here. It is loved too much to ever escape the noise.
Dwight Yorke himself can take a hint from the past. During the 2006 World Cup qualifiers, the team endured plenty of criticism and doubt before things turned around. The Warriors had one point from three games, including a 5-1 whipping to Guatemala. Back then, being far away in Sydney meant Yorke wasn’t exposed daily to the rumblings at home. Now, with social media and instant news, there’s no hiding. Word spreads in seconds. Every fan opinion, every comment, every headline is right there on a phone screen.
At the same time, there’s also more support than before. The government has stepped in with resources. Stakeholders are on board. The passing of the grandparent law has expanded the player pool. In many ways, the structures may be better than the past. Yet the expectations are heavy. In some quarters, the team is already written off. That’s the paradox: more tools, more opportunities, but less patience.
The clock doesn’t stop for feelings either. Matches against Bermuda and Curaçao on October 10 and 14 will be here in a blink. This campaign isn’t waiting for anyone to figure things out slowly.
And then there’s the deeper tug-of-war in our football culture. Old-school coaches, some of them legends in their own right, still believe the methods of the 70s, 80s, and 90s can bring success today. And fair to them, it’s hard to let go of eras when discipline, fitness, and raw talent produced great moments. But the game has moved. Science, analysis, nutrition, systems, these are now just as important as passion and pride.
So how do our professionals deal with all this? They can carry on. They lean on preparation, on the hours nobody sees. Some feed off the criticism, some block it out, some just ride it. But let’s not pretend it doesn’t weigh on them. It does. And when that weight turns from passionate support into abuse, it crosses a line. Sure, I have been targeted this year already for defending the team and our athletes, with many arguing that these individuals should be built to take the abuse.
If there’s a takeaway here, it’s this: dips in performance don’t mean disaster. They’re moments to regroup, to learn, to prepare again. TKR have bounced back from a couple defeats to storm into tonight’s final. The same way track and field athletes kept grinding until their big day came, football and every other sport have to use the tough days to build toward brighter ones.
For fans, it’s about balance. Support hard, critique fair, but remember that the ones on the field feel the pressure in ways the rest of us can only talk about.
