There are some match­es where the score­line bare­ly scratch­es the sur­face of what re­al­ly hap­pened. And truth be told, that seemed to be the sce­nario for most of our games in this round. Nights when the whole coun­try leans in a lit­tle clos­er, hold­ing its breath and hop­ing that the eleven men in red, white and black can car­ry us one step fur­ther. The game against Ja­maica on Thurs­day night was one of those. Full of weight, full of ex­pec­ta­tion, and car­ry­ing the re­al­i­ty that every­thing hinged on this one re­sult to keep our 2026 hopes alive.

And with­out a doubt, we left noth­ing in re­serve. The build-up to that match was in­tense. Days blend­ing in­to nights, train­ing ses­sions, fine-tun­ing un­der the sta­di­um lights, meet­ing af­ter meet­ing to get every de­tail right. Every ounce of prepa­ra­tion, every re­source, every bit of men­tal strength was thrown in­to that per­for­mance.

Re­sources stretched. Men­tal and emo­tion­al en­er­gy spent like cur­ren­cy. Every­one, from the play­ers to the staff to the Foot­ball As­so­ci­a­tion, un­der­stood the mag­ni­tude of what was at stake. And the boys re­spond­ed in the on­ly way they know how: with heart, dis­ci­pline, and a per­for­mance that spoke loud­er than any pre-match pre­dic­tion.

Let’s not dis­guise the truth. Go­ing in­to this cam­paign, Ja­maica were the favourites. Even on the day of the match, they were the ones most neu­tral out­siders ex­pect­ed to take three points. But foot­ball isn’t played on pa­per. And when the whis­tle blew, the on­ly thing that mat­tered was what hap­pened on that pitch. What hap­pened was a Trinidad and To­ba­go team un­der head coach Dwight Yorke that played with clar­i­ty, pur­pose, and be­lief. A team that car­ried the weight of ex­pec­ta­tion with pride, not fear. A team that now shows that no op­po­nent can come on its home turf and con­quer eas­i­ly.

The Reg­gae Boyz came seem­ing­ly con­tent with a draw. We came for more. And on the bal­ance of play, again, not bias, not emo­tion, but pure foot­balling hon­esty, we were the bet­ter team, not just in this match, but across both legs against Ja­maica and in the match­es vs Cu­raçao. Con­sis­tent­ly, we were the ones dic­tat­ing the terms, show­ing the fight and cre­at­ing the mo­ments. Cap­tains Kevin Moli­no and Levi Gar­cia cer­tain­ly led the team to a lev­el that de­served more than just a clap.

And yet, that de­ci­sive goal re­fused to come. Not for lack of ef­fort. Not for lack of chances. Not for lack of brav­ery. It’s been the one thread run­ning through this en­tire cam­paign—the miss­ing fi­nal touch, that cut­ting edge that turns ad­mirable per­for­mances in­to un­for­get­table vic­to­ries. It hurt us. It hurt the play­ers, the staff, the fans. It hurts be­cause we know how close we were. How de­serv­ing we were.

But this di­ary isn’t about re­gret. It’s about truth, growth, and where we go next.

Be­cause, de­spite the dis­ap­point­ment, there is some­thing re­al and pow­er­ful tak­ing shape in this team. Some­thing root­ed in dis­ci­pline, uni­ty, struc­ture, and be­lief. Some­thing we must pro­tect and build on. The next re­al test isn’t just an­oth­er fix­ture; it’s how we re­group, how we rise, how we turn this heart­break in­to the fire that fu­els the next chap­ter.

Even if this sounds like a tune we’ve heard be­fore, it doesn’t make it any less true. What mat­ters now is tak­ing that tune, mix­ing it right, tight­en­ing it, and fi­nal­ly turn­ing it in­to some­thing stronger, some­thing that car­ries us for­ward in­stead of hold­ing us back.

To­day marks 20 years since Den­nis Lawrence's goal took us over the line in Bahrain and qual­i­fi­ca­tion for the 2006 World Cup.

There is foot­ball still to play. There are goals still to set. Plans still to craft. A new cy­cle to em­brace with the lessons of this cam­paign stitched in­to our skin.

What we saw over these match­es is not a team that is lost. It is a team on the brink. A team that has shown it can stand toe-to-toe with favourites and emerge the bet­ter side. A team just one step away from con­vert­ing hon­est ef­fort in­to con­crete re­sults. One step away from turn­ing good foot­ball in­to win­ning foot­ball.

The task now is us­ing this cam­paign not as a re­minder of what slipped away, but as proof of how close we ac­tu­al­ly are, and how much bet­ter we can be­come with the right push, plan­ning, and be­lief.

So we take the good. We take the fight. We take the pride. And we build. Be­cause the flame hasn’t dimmed. The flag hasn’t fall­en. And the red, white and black still has miles of foot­ball left to con­quer.

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 trav­elled 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