Harbinger Of Glory

”It is not a good night for me on the flanks,” McClean said as they traversed the tunnel towards the pitch for the start of the second half.

”Well, when has it ever been a good night for you on the flanks?” Fletcher suddenly fired, sending McClean scowling and the rest of the players laughing.

Leo, walking amongst them and laughing at Fletcher’s words, slowed just as he got out of the tunnel.

”What’s up, Daws?” he said as Dawson came up to him.

”Coach, gaffer or even Dawson! Either of these is fine than you calling me like I’m your mate or something. And why Daws? You know what, I am not even going to say anything anymore.”

Leo, watching Dawson fire off, rolled his eyes before asking what he wanted to say.

”I’ve seen the Luton Town team make a change, and I think it’s to pressure you,” Dawson said.

Leo nodded at the latter’s words before gesturing for him to continue.

”As I said the other day, when they get past you, it’s as good as a goal, so stay near your mates and trust them to support you when you get caught in a pinch.”

Leo nodded, already peeling the tape from his ankle as they walked closer and closer to the pitchside.

And just as they got there, he folded it once and handed it over.

Dawson glanced at it, opened his mouth as if he was about to say something sharp, but by then Leo was already jogging away, wiping sweat from his mouth with the sleeve of his compression top.

Dawson shook his head and then tossed the tape to a staff member before turning towards the bench.

As Leo reached his spot, he slowed, taking a second to look around the stadium.

It was only after the whistle sounded that his eyes fully settled on what was in front of him on the pitch.

Luton kicked off, and their end of the ground rose with them.

Chants fused into claps and then applause, as they tried to egg on their players.

On the pitch, they moved the ball quickly, immediately getting on the attack without any of the nonsense that goes on at the start of games and half.

Two passes later, Luton’s captain, Jordan Clark, didn’t hesitate to step into the ball and send it long and down the left flank.

Wigan reacted instantly to the sudden pass as Max Power shifted across to cover, but the ball was already dropping toward Amarri Bell.

Bell met it with his thigh, cushioning it cleanly, then shuffled across Power’s path.

The latter threw his arms over the shoulders of Bell, trying to impede his run, but the Luton winger spun away before Power could set his feet and drove forward.

”Good control from Bell,” the commentator came in.

”And he’s got the strength and balance to match,” his co-commentator continued as on the pitch, Leo stepped across to meet the Luton player.

Bell, coming up against Leo, glanced up like he was looking for an out.

Still, before long, he pushed the ball forward, with Leo reacting instantly, but that was what Amarii wanted all along because the second Leo followed, he pushed the ball to his left, slipping it through the gap between the former’s legs.

”Oh, that’s cheeky,” the commentator almost yelped. ”Leo getting a taste of what he does to others.”

The crowd gasped, then laughed, but Leo did neither.

He turned immediately, tugging Bell back just enough as they angled toward the box.

Feeling the aversion to his run, Bell leaned into Leo, trying to force a mistake as their shoulders grinded against each other, but Leo stayed loose, almost relaxed.

Bell pushed again and overcommitted while trying to win something sure for his team, but his balance went a moment later, after Leo, the pillar he had been leaning on, gave way.

”Ref,” one of the Luton players who had been following called out as Leo nicked the ball, scooped it free, and shrugged off the desperate grab at his shirt.

The referee, however, shook his head as the noise swelled with applause rippling across the stands.

”That’s excellent recovery,” the commentator said, the admiration clear in his voice.

Leo’s next touch looked like a clearance, high and hurried, but it bent toward McClean on the left in Luton’s half.

McClean brought it down, and suddenly, it was Luton Town’s turn to worry again as the Wigan winger bore down on the Luton goal.

A moment later, the ball came across the box, a flash of promise, but Will Keane met it and sent a chance that should have at least tested the keeper, wide, very wide.

The groan was immediate as Keane stood frozen for a second, hands over his head, then turned toward McClean and lifted both palms.

”Sorry,” he mouthed.

But Wigan didn’t dwell on it.

They came again ten minutes later, through a foul that had been won by Max Power on the overlap.

Leo, standing behind the ball, worked it wide before the cut back came low, and Broadhead, on for Fletcher, snapped at it first time.

”It’s Broadhead!!” the commentary bellowed, but the shot flew just past the post, close enough to draw another rise from the crowd.

”A chance to make it two, but another chance done badly,” the commentary came through as the camera showed Dawson on the touchline with his hands grabbing a handful of his hair.

”It’s been cagey,” the co-commentator noted as the clock ticked on.

”Very little space, very little margin, but it could increase if Luton don’t step up!”

And Luton did step up, answering Wigan’s effort with one of their very own.

”Here comes Amarii again. He’s been the only spark in this Luton Town side tonight, and he’s looking to cause problems for Wigan again.”

Amarii, facing off against Darikwa, another substitute who had just come on, twisted left and right, making the Wigan captain question if he should have even come on, but before he could finish his thoughts, Amarii went past him before whipping a low cross into the box, only for the only leg touching the ball to be Charlie Hughes’s as he cleared the ball out for a corner.

”Yeahhh!!!” the defender yelled in release as the Wigan fans around the stadium roared with him, before Whatmough came, shoving his slightly towards a free Luton defender that had come up for the corner.

The corner swung in under pressure, bodies crashing together, the ball pinballing through the six-yard box before being hacked clear.

Hands went up, mainly those of the Luton players calling for a penalty, but the referee waved it away again.

By the time the clock edged into the eighty-second minute, the tension had settled into something tight and uncomfortable.

”We’re heading down to the wire here,” the commentary came through again.

”Luton is still chasing Fletcher’s first-half goal, and time is starting to press.”

The cameras, after the commentary’s words, found Fletcher on the bench, with Broadhead stretching the line in his stead.

Luton restarting with a throw-in, tried to get the ball into the box again, but Leo slid in, rough and rugged and managed to get the ball.

The referee gestured for another throw-in, but not all shared that sentiment as the Luton players called for a foul instead.

Leo finally to his feet after the earlier tackle, felt it in his back and turned to see Elijah Adebayo stepping in close, words spilling out, sharp and pointless.

Leo raised his hands, palms out and backed out, uninterested, but Adebayo followed him, still pointing and talking at Leo.

Leo still smiled, just slightly, and kept walking, trying to ignore the former, but that only made it worse.

Adebayo lunged again, arms out, in frustration, just as the referee forced his way between them.

”Adebayo can’t keep his cool here. I can understand the frustration, but this is really uncalled for,” the commentary judged on the broadcast as a yellow card came out, and Adebayo stared at it in disbelief, like he couldn’t understand why he was getting shown a card.

Leo, on the other hand, was already moving away, that same small smirk still there.

It lingered just long enough to be seen, just long enough to irritate as the referee signalled for the restart, and when the restart came, it was like a little battle had begun.

The next moment, Leo got the ball, but all he felt next was Adebayo running through him like a freight train.

The referee saw it but deemed it too shallow to actually call it, and so the Luton Town player continued, moving with the ball until he felt something akin to a harpoon going through his legs.

”Aaah—fuck!” was the only sound Adebayo made as he tumbled towards the ground, but the whistle he expected didn’t even come through, because like always, Leo had gotten to the ball first.

”You have got to be fucking joking,” Adebayo, through his gritten teeth, stood sharply to his feet, and approached the referee all fiery, asking why that wasn’t a foul and at least a yellow card for Leo as the game halted again with Adebayo’s teammates trying to calm him down but it was already too late as the referee pulled another yellow card and showed it Adebayo, his second of the night and the last to send him off.

”And he’s off. What is going on with him tonight?” came the commentary as Adebayo was pulled away from the referee by his teammates, but as he was being dragged back, he glanced at Leo, but what he saw was Leo grinning like a certain Manhwa character, and that broke something in him.

P.S: LLyod is water.