Harbinger Of Glory

The players clapped the stands in unison, some already swapping shirts, others still buzzing with the last traces of adrenaline.

And then from the speakers around the stadium, the announcer’s voice broke through the din, echoing across the tannoy.

”Ladies and gentlemen, your man of the match... Leo Calderón!”

The reaction was instant.

Another wave of cheers rolled across the stadium, supporters chanting his name with a rhythmic thrum.

Out on the pitch, Leo blinked, almost startled.

For a split second, he looked around like it had to be someone else, surely Fletcher for his goal, or Darikwa for his late strike, maybe even Jamie Jones for that stunning save.

He’d only come on in the latter moments of the second half, he reminded himself, and parts of it... Well, he knew he’d looked raw, even rattled.

But then Fletcher was clapping him on the back, Naylor ruffled his hair, and there was no denying it now.

Leo raised his hands, clapped towards the fans, and started into a light jog towards the crowd, face breaking into a shy grin.

The South Stand sang louder with each step he took, voices climbing as though to convince him he’d earned every ounce of it.

In the commentary box, the pundits picked up the thread.

”You know, that’s a fascinating one,” one said, his tone thoughtful.

”Because you could see it in him when he came on, he looked a bit lost. He was trying so hard to make up for that offside goal, and you worried the kid might overcook it.”

”Exactly,” the co-commentator agreed, his voice warm.

”He got caught a couple of times, nearly cost them, but credit where it’s due since he found his composure. That corner? Perfect delivery. And then winning the penalty with that shot, that bit of magic under pressure... that’s what swung the game. In the end, those moments matter more than the mistakes.”

Leo gave the fans one last clap on the pitch before ducking down the tunnel, sweat-slicked hair clinging to his forehead, the noise still chasing him down the corridor.

”So there it is, a breathless, dramatic turnaround at the DW. This win lifts them to eleventh in the table, and with momentum like this, you can’t rule out a late push further up.”

The co-commentator chuckled.

”And their next test? Away at Millwall, who are twenty-second right now. On paper, not the toughest, but hey, this league, you never know. But if Wigan play with this kind of belief, they’ll fancy their chances.”

The cameras panned across the stands one last time, catching the fans still chanting, scarves aloft in the night air.

Then the final words came, steady and conclusive.

”A remarkable evening here in Wigan. Full-time at the DW Stadium: Wigan Athletic three, Blackpool two. What a night. Goodnight from us.”

And with that, the broadcast faded to its closing montage—the cheers still echoing, the memory of the comeback etched into the night.

.......

[Manchester]

The next afternoon, school was out and the gates were spilling students in every direction.

Mia slipped through the cluster of uniforms and chatter, tugging her bag higher onto her shoulder as she scanned the curb, something she always did before she joined the path home, but that’s when she saw him.

Leo, perched casually on one of the concrete stop blocks near the car park, hood up, earbuds dangling.

A grin spread across her face.

She slowed her steps, then suddenly broke into a sprint, sneakers slapping the pavement as she veered toward him.

She was three paces away when his voice cut in without him even turning his head.

”Don’t even try it.”

Mia skidded to a halt, jaw dropping.

”How did you know?!”

Leo finally glanced at her, the corner of his mouth curling into a laugh.

”How do you think I dodge players on the pitch? Same thing.”

He tugged at one of the earbuds, revealing the plug dangling loose from the jack.

”And also... headphones weren’t even connected. I heard your stomping from halfway down the street.”

”That’s cheating!” Mia folded her arms, pretending to pout but unable to hide the smile creeping onto her lips.

”Cheating? No,” Leo grinned, wrapping the cable neatly around the buds before stuffing them into his pocket.

”Preparation. You’d know if you didn’t try to sneak like an elephant.”

Mia nudged his shoulder with hers, half annoyed, half amused.

”So what are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be at training or... something football-y?”

Leo shrugged, leaning back on his hands.

”Got some free time. I’m not in the squad for Millwall this Thursday, and it’s away anyway.”

Mia blinked.

”Wait, what? You’re not playing?”

Her tone sharpened, like she’d just heard something ridiculous.

”But you were so good yesterday! Even the commentators said it on the broadcast.”

Leo just lifted his brows, amused by her indignation.

She muttered something under her breath, brow furrowed like she was working through a math problem.

Leo narrowed his eyes, leaning closer.

”What’s going on in that head of yours?” He reached out and poked her cheek with a finger.

Mia swatted his hand away, though her lips twitched into a smile.

”I think it’s because of me.”

Leo blinked. ”Because of you? What did you do, exactly? Steal the match ball?”

Mia looked a little sheepish.

”Dawson called earlier. But my iPad was dead and I was in the middle of a game on Sofia’s phone, so I... hung up.”

Leo just stared at her for a second, then burst out laughing, rubbing his temple.

”That’s not why, Mia. Trust me. Coaches don’t drop players because their little sister declines a call. It’s not just me, but a couple of the regulars are also not playing or on the bench.”

She looked unconvinced. ”Still... maybe.”

Leo shook his head, still smiling.

”Okay, but why were you even playing on Sofia’s phone? What happened to yours?”

”It’s... broken.” She shifted her bag on her shoulder, glancing away.

”Broken?” Leo tilted his head.

”Fine—it’s not really broken,” Mia admitted quickly.

”Sofia said she could fix it for me. So I’m... letting her.”

Leo chuckled at her honesty.

”Right. Outsourcing your problems now. Clever.”

He stood, dusting off his joggers, and looked at her.

”If you could pick any phone, what would you want?”

Mia’s eyes lit up for a fraction of a second before she tried to play it cool.

”The new 14. Obviously. Maybe the pro model because of the dynamic, whatever.”

Leo let out a low whistle.

”Big dreams.” Then he took her hand, already stepping away from the block.

”Come on. Let’s go fulfil those dreams.”

”Where are we going?” Mia frowned, half dragged along.

”To get you a new phone.”

Her eyes widened, tugging her hand back slightly.

”Wait—what? No, Leo, seriously, I didn’t mean it like that—”

But he just grinned, holding her wrist firm.

”Too late. You put it out there. Let’s go upgrade you and spoil my little sister a bit.”

She groaned, but there was laughter in it, her voice carrying down the pavement as he pulled her along.

”Is this what rich brothers do for their sisters?” she said, putting her loose hand over her mouth.

Leo just shook his head, smiling, as the two of them disappeared down the street, the noise of the schoolyard fading behind them.

........

Now in front of the apartment, the key rattled in the lock before the door creaked open, Leo holding it for Mia as she stepped inside first, her school bag bouncing slightly on her shoulder.

The faint aroma of something simmering drifted through the hallway, onions, garlic, and tomato, stirred together in the kind of scent that instantly clung to your clothes.

”Close the door properly, don’t just leave it,” came a voice from deeper inside the flat, familiar and quick, like it had been rehearsed a thousand times.

Sofia appeared seconds later, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel as she leaned around the corner.

Her eyes fell first on Mia, then on the taller figure lingering behind her, headphones still hanging around his neck.

”Wait—Leo?” Her face lit up, the towel forgotten in her hand as she hurried forward.

Leo barely had time to straighten up before she wrapped her arms around him.

”What are you doing here. Aren’t you supposed to be training for the next game or something? You did so well in the previous one,” she murmured against his shoulder, squeezing tighter than he expected.

He smiled and hugged back, careful not to crush her.

It struck him then, how much he’d been growing.

He was nearly ten centimetres taller than his aunt now, and the top of her head only reached his chin.

”I wasn’t expecting you this early,” Leo said when they finally pulled apart, his grin lopsided. ”Don’t you usually stay late?”

Mia answered for her, plopping her bag onto the nearest chair with a thud.

”Since you found your footing, she doesn’t stay late anymore. She says she’d rather focus on me now.”

Leo looked between them, warmth flickering in his chest. ”Thanks, Aunt,” he said softly, reaching into his jacket.