It's the afternoon of March 16, 1872, on a soccer field in London, England.

24-year-old Morton Betts sprints down the line, kicking up mud behind him.

The crowd urges him forward. But instead, Morton cuts inside sprints down the line, kicking up mud behind him. The crowd urges him forward.

But instead, Morton cuts inside, trying to shake a trailing defender and creates some space.

Ahead, his teammate Walpole Gaddal glides past two defenders.

Walpole is known as the Prince of Dribblers, and the brown leather ball seemed glued to his feet as he runs.

It's 15 minutes into the final match of a new tournament, the Football Association Cup.

Morton and Walpole's team, The Wanderers, are going up against the Royal Engineers,

and the 2,000 people surrounding the field cheer boisterously.

Because of the expensive one-chilling entry, only a privileged crowd has turned out,

and Morton recognizes many of them as old schoolmates from Harrow.

But he can't stop to say hello.

Instead, Morton backs up Walpole as he closes in on goal.

But in a last-ditch effort, a defender slides through,

sending Walpole crashing into the mud,

and the ball skittering loose across the wet grass.

It bobbles toward Morton, who stops it with a tanned leather cleat.

He glances up, the angle is tight, and the defenders are charging.

This might be his only chance.

The crowd holds its breath as Morton swings his leg back and strikes the ball as hard as he can.

It flies off the turf, arrowing past muddy defenders and straight into the corner of the goal.

The crowd roars as Morton pumps his fist into the air.

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