I could feel the vibe around me today, here in the Hadbat al Zafranah neighborhood. The guys building the villa next door … pretty subdued. I’m not even sure they started hammering nails much before 8 a.m. The old guy behind the counter at the mini-mart next to the mosque … his smile had vanished. Urchins in the street, hanging their heads. Even the Pakistani kids playing pickup cricket seemed less chipper.

See, it was a rough match the night before. Dreams of our first UAE Pro League championship … pretty much shot.

Ah, the agony of … the draw.

Al Jazira … our team. The pride of Southside Abu Dhabi … tied by the visitors from Sharjah, 1-1.

That leaves us five points adrift (as they say in England) of Al Wahda which is top (as they say in England) of the table (as they say in England).

(Transalation: Al-Jaz is now five points back of Al Wahda, our arch-rival, which is in first place in the standings, as we say in America.)

Here’s how it went wrong:

Well, it actually started back in January, when we started taking ties against … oh, anybody. The worst team in the league, sorry little Ajman, tied us. Al Dhafra, a collection of stiffs from out in the blowing sand of the Western Region … a tie, in our house.

Meanwhile, Al Wahda just kept winning. Including the Abu Dhabi Island Derby back in February, on Valentine’s Day, when they took us 2-1 over at their rat-hole of a yard (both goals by the Brazilian dude we had last year and didn’t sign because he wanted three years and we offered two) and moved into first by three points.

We’ve tied twice more since then, and now we’re five points down with four to play — even though we’ve lost only once in 18 matches. Mathematically, we can still do this, but our lads look pretty much used up. They were great for three months — at the end of 2009. They’ve been running on fumes ever since.

We were all over Sharjah for about 80 of the 90 minutes. Looked like the varsity against the JVs. Toni, our Ivory Coast forward, was in the box all night. Great footwork. Kept dribbling through three guys — and then missing an open net from 10 yards.

Our playmaking mid, cap’n Ibrahim Diaky (also from Ivory Coast) controlled the ball and the pace. Subait Khater had another strong game in the midfield, inventing chances. One of our Brazilians, Rafael Sobis worked like a Trojan. Had several decent scoring chances. Our big ol’ Australian central defender, Michael Beauchamp, was strong and barely missed on a header from a corner.

But it was that classic story: Team dominates, doesn’t break the game open, wastes its energy on the attacking end, gives up a cheap goal and ties. Or loses.

Sharjah’s cheap goal came in the 73rd minute. A weird little winger named Mosa Hatab (weird because he doesn’t look like an athlete and acts as if he would rather be anywhere but on a soccer pitch) got forward,  got fouled, and took the restart about 15 yards to the left of the box, and a little above it. He knocked it about neck high in the general direction of the goal … and their chippy central defender, a goon named Abdulaziz Ghloom (I am not making up that surname) got his head on it, and it was 1-1.

Our coach, Brazilian Abel Braga, responded immediately with three subs, getting some fresh legs in there. Which is always important because 1) it’s hot this time of year, even for an 8:30 p.m. start and 2) a lot of guys in this league are out of shape.

More good chances as our new guys blew past their tired guys, but more wasted opportunities. OK, and the Sharjah keeper Mahmoud Al Mass, was really good. We must have outshot them about 15-2, but he turned away everything aside from Mohsen Saad’s nice shot from about 15 yards out on a pass from Cap’n Diaky in the 33rd minute.

Alas, that was to be it for Al-Jaz.

When it was over, about 50 guys who came down from Sharjah were swinging towels in the second deck like they had just won the championship.  Our drum corps went silent. Our VIPs disappeared into the night. The busloads of squirrely grade-school boys knew something bad had happened, even though they hadn’t watched a minute of the game, preferring to run through the aisles and wrestle with each other. And the homies shuffled out of Mohammed bin Zayed Stadium, totally deflated.

If drinking were legal, we would have all gone to the bar and drowned our sorrows while hoping the local stations didn’t show a replay of any of those lowlights.

If we win out, that would be 53 points. Al Wahda, meanwhile, can’t take more than six points from its last four matches, if we’re going to take them.

Did I mention Al Jazira has never won a championship? Never? In a league with about a half-dozen good teams in a given year?

After this year, we’re wondering if we ever will. So good, so long and now fading to black here at the end. It’s enough to send a guy to a shisha pipe.