SFIDA Setagaya couldn’t change how their home season had unfolded, but they could decide how this chapter ended. Six goals, a little defensive chaos, and a wonderful afternoon at AGF Field gave the club’s original identity the farewell it deserved.
Yep. This review is later than I anticipated.
Without turning this into a complete sob story, it’s been a challenging period for me lately. Some troublesome things have come up, and they’ve made it difficult to be as efficient with these reviews and previews as I’d like. I’m hoping the worst is behind me, although I don’t know that just yet.
You know what makes me happy though, watching SFIDA Setagaya. Here’s me wearing my shirt at the gym.
Anyway, that’s more than enough of that.
Because SFIDA Setagaya have gone and done something rather lovely.
On Sunday, 18 October 2026, SFIDA defeated Viamaterras Miyazaki 4–2 at AGF Field in Chofu, Tokyo, securing their first victory at the ground all season. Mizuzu Uchida scored twice, Koharuko Kitagawa produced a splendid individual goal, and Runa Ishiura marked her return to the starting eleven with a goal of her own.
That would ordinarily be enough to make me happy.
But this wasn’t an ordinary afternoon.
After 25 years, this was the final home fixture played under the SFIDA Setagaya FC identity. From 2027, the club will enter a new chapter as FC Tokyo Sfida, bringing an end to a name, crest and independent history that have meant an awful lot to an awful lot of people.
And for a team that had managed three draws and five defeats in their previous eight matches at AGF Field this season, the prospect of ending without a victory was becoming rather unpleasant.
Thankfully, 1,028 supporters got to witness something much better.
The High-Visibility Visitors Had Some Ideas of Their Own
First, we need to discuss the kits.
Miyazaki arrived wearing what I can only describe as their working-on-site high-visibility home kit. It’s quite something. Against SFIDA’s magnificent blue, the visual contrast was glorious.
You could probably spot a Miyazaki player from the International Space Station.
And just 46 seconds into the match, the visitors had already registered an effort on goal.
Well, this could get entertaining.
Although, perhaps entertaining wasn’t the right word if Miyazaki were going to enjoy all the opportunities without allowing us to reply.
By the ninth minute, however, SFIDA had settled into proceedings rather nicely. We were enjoying more possession, moving the ball around with reasonable confidence and generally looking the better side.
The only issue was that our opportunities weren’t particularly convincing.
Miyazaki, meanwhile, demonstrated why they had arrived in fourth place, carrying a record of ten wins, five draws and five defeats.
Their attacking players were technically capable, and they weren’t especially interested in allowing SFIDA to enjoy a sentimental afternoon without resistance.
At 9:58, a floated cross into our penalty area was comfortably gathered by goalkeeper Mio Otsuka.
Nothing particularly remarkable.
For the next few minutes, neither team looked especially likely to score.
Then, around the 17th minute, something wonderful happened.
Mizuzu Uchida Has Quite the Head on Her Shoulders
The move began with an apparently innocuous goal kick from Miyazaki goalkeeper Akatsuki.
SFIDA regained possession, and before the visitors could reorganise, defender Nemoto found herself advancing into dangerous territory.
What followed was a terrific burst forward from deep, carrying the ball towards the right edge of the penalty area.
Then came the cross.
And what a scrumptious cross it was.
The sort of delivery that Raphinha would have been pleased to claim as his own.
It floated towards the centre, where several players appeared capable of reaching it. Miyazaki’s goalkeeper was interested. A defender with dyed blonde hair was certainly interested.
Unfortunately for them, Mizuzu Uchida was even more interested.
She met the ball with a magnificent header.
1–0 SFIDA.
We are massive.
There was something wonderfully appropriate about Uchida opening the scoring. She had been SFIDA’s most reliable source of goals throughout the campaign, and here she was again, delivering when the occasion demanded something special.
It was her 14th league goal of the season.
And while the finish deserved its applause, the build-up was arguably more revealing.
Miyazaki had surrendered possession, SFIDA had recognised the opportunity, and Nemoto had attacked the available space without hesitation.
That combination would become increasingly important.
Because, for all their attacking talent, Miyazaki’s defensive organisation was beginning to look rather questionable.
A Little Bit of Everything, Including Some Very Ordinary Natto
Miyazaki responded to conceding with admirable enthusiasm.
They won a corner, increased their attacking urgency and began to exploit the spaces appearing between SFIDA’s defenders.
By the 23rd minute, the players were taking a hydration break.
In October.
Admittedly, it was 26°C in Chofu, so perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised.
At approximately 27 minutes, Miyazaki launched an extraordinarily high cross from the touchline. Their attacker connected at the far post, sending a header narrowly away from goal.
A genuine warning.
Two minutes later, SFIDA created two excellent opportunities of their own, only to be denied by some impressive goalkeeping.
Nana Watanabe then provided a delightful little moment of technical quality, controlling the ball and showing off some lovely juggling skills.
I enjoyed that.
Not every memorable contribution needs to result in a goal.
By the 32nd minute, the match had developed into a curious combination of scrappy midfield exchanges and genuinely threatening attacking football.
Miyazaki captain Sakamoto even found herself attempting to retain possession while lying on the ground, despite two SFIDA players standing over her.
I admire the determination.
Unfortunately, being horizontal while your opponents remain vertical is not an especially advantageous position from which to conduct a football match.
SFIDA eventually recovered the ball.
Moments later, Mizuki Horie sent a promising effort narrowly wide.
At this point, I was convinced we could have scored three or four goals.
Equally, Miyazaki could easily have found one themselves.
It was a match threatening to become a six-goal thriller while occasionally resembling the dullest natto imaginable.
The sort you might encounter in Gifu. Unseasoned, unapologetic, and determined to challenge your enthusiasm.
Somehow, this game possessed both qualities.
And I was thoroughly enjoying it.
Sayuri Yamamoto Was Making Life Difficult
One Miyazaki player particularly impressed me.
Number 22, Sayuri Yamamoto.
Her movement, close control and passing were consistently threatening, particularly when she received possession in advanced positions.
She could manipulate the ball into useful spaces, evade pressure and find teammates with clever through passes.
At times, SFIDA’s defenders struggled to contain her.
One sequence was particularly impressive. Yamamoto helped create an attacking opportunity, released possession, repositioned herself and subsequently received the ball in a dangerous shooting position.
It was intelligent football.
And it made me wonder whether she’d fancy joining us next season.
I’m only half joking.
Miyazaki’s attack appeared considerably more assured than their defence. Their forwards were inventive, energetic and technically comfortable, while the players behind them occasionally looked vulnerable when pressed.
SFIDA’s Kato was particularly effective in this regard.
Her persistence repeatedly forced Miyazaki into uncomfortable situations, including one sequence in which she harassed a defender into surrendering possession.
There was no goal at the end of it, but the effort mattered.
And it was becoming increasingly apparent that Miyazaki could be troubled by direct pressure.
At the other end, Yuzu Tsuchi nearly punished us in the 42nd minute, finding herself in a dangerous position close to goal.
The match was still very much alive.
Then came the final seconds of the half.
Koharuko Kitagawa, That Was Absolutely Beautiful
The first half appeared to be drifting towards a relatively comfortable 1–0 scoreline.
Miyazaki launched the ball forward. SFIDA recovered possession and immediately returned it towards the visitors’ half.
Suddenly, Kitagawa was advancing through the middle.
And Miyazaki’s defenders were nowhere near where they needed to be.
Those who should have been marking her were desperately scrambling backwards.
Too late.
Kitagawa carried the ball into space and produced a terrific left-footed finish.
2–0 SFIDA.
The official match report records the goal at 45+2 minutes, and it was a brutal way for Miyazaki to conclude the opening period.
I loved it.
There is something particularly satisfying about a goal scored through a player’s willingness to recognise an opportunity and take responsibility for it.
Kitagawa didn’t wait for someone else to solve the problem.
She ran at it.
And suddenly SFIDA were heading into the interval with a two-goal advantage.
Were we twice as good as Miyazaki?
Not necessarily.
Both teams had created opportunities. Miyazaki had a particularly impressive attacking player in Yamamoto, and there were moments when our defence looked uncomfortable.
But SFIDA had converted two chances.
Miyazaki hadn’t converted any.
Football can be wonderfully straightforward when you put it like that.
Three Goals Ahead, But Nobody Told Miyazaki to Go Home
The second half began with Miyazaki looking the more assertive side.
By the 49th minute, they were applying pressure, and SFIDA were having to work harder to retain possession.
Watanabe demonstrated her speed and commitment with some excellent recovery work, a reminder that defending is often about recognising danger before it becomes a spectacular last-ditch intervention.
At 153cm, she is hardly the tallest centre-back in Japanese football.
Yet this was her 64th consecutive complete match since making her debut.
That sort of consistency deserves attention.
By the 55th minute, proceedings had become rather attritional. Miyazaki made two substitutions shortly afterwards, seeking to change the rhythm of the match.
SFIDA were still finding opportunities to move forward.
Shinohara, operating from the left, produced an ambitious effort to combine with a teammate before sending a beautifully curved ball into the penalty area.
Unfortunately, nobody was there to receive it.
A lovely delivery to absolutely nobody.
We’ve all been there.
Then, in the 65th minute, SFIDA made the afternoon look considerably more comfortable.
Shinohara delivered a corner, and Runa Ishiura rose to meet it.
3–0.
Ishiura had returned to the starting line-up after missing six matches, and her goal offered a reminder of the importance of having different players capable of contributing.
Uchida had provided the aerial threat earlier, Kitagawa had delivered through individual initiative, and now Ishiura had punished Miyazaki from a set piece.
Three goals, three different routes to scoring.
For a team that had spent so much of the season struggling to win at AGF Field, this was a welcome development.
But there was still a problem.
Miyazaki hadn’t finished.
The Trouble With Thinking a Match Is Over
Seven minutes after Ishiura’s goal, Miyazaki finally found a breakthrough.
Yamamoto, who had been such an influential presence throughout the first half, supplied Yuzu Tsuchi.
The forward finished with her left foot in the 72nd minute.
3–1.
It was Tsuchi’s 11th league goal of the season, and it gave Miyazaki something to pursue.
Perhaps more importantly, it demonstrated that SFIDA’s defensive vulnerabilities hadn’t disappeared simply because we were scoring goals.
Miyazaki had entered the match after an exhausting period that included four matches in four days at the Kokuspo tournament in Aomori.
They were also operating under interim manager Kazuhiro Yanagita following Takanori Sato’s departure on 3 October.
Neither circumstance provided an ideal foundation for preparing to face a motivated SFIDA side.
Yet they continued to attack.
And in the 84th minute, substitute Kaede Itakura took advantage of a loose ball inside the penalty area to score.
3–2.
Good grief.
A three-goal advantage had become a one-goal advantage in less than 20 minutes.
For a moment, it appeared that SFIDA might somehow transform their final home appearance into another frustrating afternoon.
The prospect of a ninth winless match at AGF Field was suddenly very real.
And then Mizuzu Uchida decided we’d all experienced quite enough uncertainty.
Fifteen Goals and a Rather Important Fourth
Just one minute after Miyazaki had reduced the deficit, SFIDA restored their two-goal advantage.
Taguchi provided the assist.
Uchida supplied the finish with her right foot.
4–2.
That was more like it.
The goal completed Uchida’s brace and brought her league tally to 15, moving her ahead of Kumi Yokoyama’s 14 and into sole possession of first place in the Nadeshiko League Division 1 scoring standings.
For context, Horie had contributed nine league goals herself.
Between them, the pair had scored 24.
That is a substantial contribution from two players, although Uchida’s performance against Miyazaki illustrated that her value isn’t limited to finishing opportunities.
Afterwards, she acknowledged the importance of drawing defenders towards herself to create space for teammates.
It’s an interesting observation.
A forward who scores 15 goals will understandably attract attention, but the ability to use that attention productively can be just as valuable.
Particularly when teammates such as Kitagawa and Ishiura are prepared to exploit the opportunities that follow.
With the lead restored, Hamada moved to protect it.
In the 88th minute, the introduction of Kurokawa and Aoki helped SFIDA shift into a five-player defensive line.
There would be no further comeback.
And when the final whistle arrived, SFIDA Setagaya had finally won at AGF Field.
At the very last opportunity.
Twenty-Five Years Deserved More Than a Quiet Goodbye
The final score was 4–2, although the underlying numbers suggest something rather more complicated than a comfortable victory.
Miyazaki finished with 11 shots to SFIDA’s nine. Both sides won five corners, and SFIDA’s goalkeeper and defensive unit had plenty to occupy them.
Miyazaki’s attacking quality was genuine.
Yet SFIDA were more decisive when opportunities presented themselves, particularly at moments when the visitors’ defensive structure had become disorganised.
Perhaps that’s the distinction.
There was no need for SFIDA to dominate every minute. They needed to recognise when Miyazaki were vulnerable and punish them.
And they did.
Four times.
After the match, however, the football became only one part of the afternoon.
Former player Marina Tanaka, who had spent 16 years with the club before retiring in 2016, had performed the ceremonial kick-in before the game.
It was a small but meaningful acknowledgement of the people who helped build SFIDA into what it became.
Captain Miyu Kashibara, who had developed through the club’s academy since junior high school, had spoken before the match about the sadness of wearing the name and crest at home for the final time.
For her, the transition carries a particularly personal significance.
There are players who join clubs, contribute for several seasons and move elsewhere.
And there are players whose footballing lives have been shaped by a single organisation from childhood.
Kashibara belongs much closer to the latter category.
After the final whistle, founder Haruhiko Inada addressed the supporters, reflecting on the club’s history and the memories stirred by the banners and smiling faces around the ground.
Then came the victory dance.
The first home victory celebration in five months.
On 18 October 2026, SFIDA Setagaya gave their supporters one last home victory under a name that had survived for a quarter of a century.
The players danced. The supporters celebrated. The photographs were taken.
And, for once, AGF Field felt like a place where everything had gone rather nicely.
Four goals. Three points. One last dance.
Thank you, SFIDA Setagaya.
