Harbinger Of Glory

The corner from that came to nothing, but the message was clear.

Wigan, despite playing kids, hadn’t thought about throwing the game away, and as halftime approached, the momentum stayed with the home side.

Duvan broke up one final Luton move with a crunching tackle that brought the crowd to its feet.

He rose calmly, nodded to a teammate just before the whistle for the break arrived, with the score still level, but the feeling inside the stadium told a different story.

Walking toward the concourse, fans talked animatedly.

”Look at them,” one said. ”I am getting really confident watching them play because if this is how our boys are coming along, sooner or later, we might get promoted even if we don’t get that this season.”

”That’s a proper generation coming through,” another replied. ”If this is the future, we’re in good hands.”

On the bench, Leo finally rose from his seat, meeting Ezra at the opening in the tunnel, before shoving the latter a bit, with Ezra smiling as the duo made their way towards the dressing room.

Dawson entered the dressing room with Nolan a step behind him, immediately addressing his boys and telling those who weren’t seated to settle down, just before Dawson stopped in the middle of the room.

He looked around for a moment before speaking.

”That was good,” he said simply. ”Very good.”

”Luton aren’t a weak side. You all know that. They’ve got experience, they’ve got legs, and they know how to manage games like this. And for forty-five minutes, you pinned them down and forced them to play to your whims.”

He paced once, slowly bearing forward.

”You proved something out there to yourself that you can play if you put your mind to it.”

”I’m not changing anything right now,” Dawson continued.

”Nobody’s coming off. You’ve earned the chance to get the reward. There’s a goal in this for us. I want you to go back out there and fight for it, but that doesn’t mean you should let down your guard.”

”I will make changes if I see anything that isn’t up to par. You got that?”

For a split second, the room stayed quiet.

Then someone at the back muttered a sharp, eager ”Yes.”

Before the rest came with a resounding, ”Yes, Coach!”

A chorus of it, like soldiers answering a call, and Nolan couldn’t help himself.

He chuckled under his breath as Dawson nodded once, satisfied.

”Good,” Dawson said. ”Let’s go.”

He turned and walked out, Nolan following, still smiling to himself as the door swung shut behind them.

Leo missed most of it.

He came out of the bathroom just as the room settled, adjusting the sleeves of his training top.

He glanced around, clocked the players streaming out of the room for who knows what, and shook his head lightly.

He made his way back to his locker seat as the halftime clock ticked down.

More than a quarter of an hour later, and in the fifty-fifth minute, Dawson stood on the touchline, eyes pinned on the game ahead of him.

Since the start of the second half, the flow had changed.

Not drastically, but for his keen eyes, he spotted it a while ago.

Luton had brought on experience after the break, and it was showing.

The kids were still in it, still competing, but the control from the first half had slipped.

Where Wigan had controlled in the first half, they were now reacting.

Dawson exhaled slowly, standing idle for a moment before he turned his head toward the bench, eyes landing on Leo, then Fletcher beside him.

”Nolan,” he said quietly, without looking back. ”Get them up and in the game in the next five minutes.”

Nolan nodded immediately and moved towards the seating area of the bench.

”Leo. Fletcher,” he called, clapping once. ”On your feet.”

The duo stood together with a subtle smirk on their faces before tugging on bibs tossed towards them by the kit manager and making their way down the touchline, where the fans spotted them.

And immediately after that, the applause followed, in tandem with shouts of the names of the duo as they made their way up and down the touchline.

On the pitch, Luton surged again.

Alfie Doherty picked up the ball from deep and drove forward, evading Wigan players, before stumbling slightly after Max Power stuck his foot out to clear the ball, but the referee, following closely behind, waved play on as Doherty went on still.

”Here goes Doherty,”

the commentator said, tone lifting.”He’s got room, and he’s got momentum.”

Before the ball could get to the byline, Joe Bennett stepped across it, timing his approach, but Doherty shifted the ball at the last second and slipped past him.

Bennett reacted instinctively, arms stretching across Doherty’s body, and that was all it took before the Luton Town wing back went down on the ground, with the whistle following through immediately.

Bennett stood to his feet immediately and turned towards the referee, finger wagging.

”Never touched him,” he protested, frustration clear, but the referee had already made his decision.

He rolled the ball to the spot where Doherty sat, catching his breath before teammates helped him up.

”It is a foul for Luton Town, but Wigan are taking advantage of that to make their first changes of the night,” the commentary came through as the foul was being set up.

”We’re seeing movement on the touchline now.”

The board went up.

”Aasgaard makes way for Fletcher,” the analyst added. ”And Callum Lang is coming off for Leo.”

A ripple moved through the stadium as the two already on the pitch made their way down.

”It’s not his usual position, but we have seen him play there once in a win against Middlesbrough,” the commentator continued.

”Dawson’s pushing Leo higher up into the attacking midfield role.”

Lang jogged off, breathing hard, slapping Leo’s hand as they passed.

”You’re up,” he said to Leo as he crossed the touchline, meeting Dawson in a high-five before making his way to a seat on the bench.

Leo stepped onto the pitch before immediately turning and running toward his own half, before settling in the pile of bodies at the edge of the box.

After that got settled, the referee blew his whistle, just before the free kick came in fast and low, driven toward the near post.

Wigan reacted together, immediately stepping back for Charlie Hughes, to get the header away just before the loose ball was snapped up by Duvan, who took the contact and stood his ground.

Leo tracked back instinctively, closing space and offering an outlet.

But the ball was cleared away by Tilt before Duvan could even think about passing.

”Defender’s clearance,” came the commentary as the ball fell into the centre of the pitch, and a Luton player claimed it, before they reset again, passing the ball back to their keeper to give time to their players who were just returning from the opponent’s half.

The match dragged its feet as it edged toward the seventy-fourth minute, the tempo thinning out until every phase felt stretched.

The ball moved, the players shifted, but nothing truly bit.

From the bench, Dawson stood with his arms folded, eyes fixed forward, and thoughts running wild as he thought of what to do.

”Should I throw it?” he even suggested to himself before scrapping that idea entirely, deciding to leave everything up to his players.

Leo had been on the pitch for fifteen minutes now, and it showed in the worst way possible.

Not through mistakes, not through laziness, but through absence.

He was there, constantly there, but rarely involved.

From the attacking midfield role, he kept finding pockets that closed the moment he stepped into them.

He was doing as he always did, but the game simply refused to funnel itself through him.

Once, he dropped deeper than instructed, trying to force himself into the rhythm.

The pass finally came, but the damage was immediate.

Luton used the space he vacated to escape the press, a clean outlet that broke Wigan’s shape and relieved the pressure they had been building.

Dawson’s reaction was sharp and unmistakable as he gestured for discipline.

Leo jogged back into position, lips pressed together, irritation simmering just beneath the surface.

He could feel it.

The sense of being half a step out of sync with the match, like he was chasing a version of the game that no longer existed when he tried to get involved.

”This one’s gone a bit stale,” the commentator said on the broadcast.

”After that energy in the first half, both sides seem to have settled, and I won’t be surprised should this game go to extra and possibly penalties.”

”For Luton, there isn’t much difference in how they are playing, but for Wigan, they aren’t quite getting their playmakers involved,” the analyst added.

”And that goes to show why they haven’t been that inventive.”