Harbinger Of Glory

Leo’s cross looked overhit the moment it left his foot.

But there was always one thing you could count on from Leo’s left foot, and that was, it had no direction.

Midway through its flight, the ball suddenly began dipping and bending into the space at the far post.

Hard work was always rewarded, and Ezra, who had never stopped running, met it first time and laid it across to Will Keane, who had made the run from deep.

”IS THERE A FINISH?” the commentator bellowed, but there wasn’t even a shot.

Keane faked once to get a Coventry player out of the way and then smashed it toward the bottom right corner.

It almost looked a certain goal, but the Coventry keeper got a strong hand to it, pushing it around the post, and the sound from the Wigan end was almost hurting.

”What a save,” the commentator returned.

”What an absolutely outstanding save, and that was necessary for Coventry.”

While the Wigan fans sulked about the end of the move, the Coventry players were getting an earful.

Their keeper, the moment he got off the grass, turned to his defenders and began berating them, and it was only when one of them pointed towards the corner flag that he stopped.

Leo had already turned away from the goal and was jogging toward the corner flag.

The crowd, seeing him, began rallying again and chanting again.

Leo gave them a curt nod before he took the corner short.

McClean returned it quickly, and Leo swung his body into the second delivery, sending it back into the box where Whatmough rose and got his head to it but could only push it up and over for a goal kick.

The crowd groaned again at the missed chance, but for Dawson on the sidelines, it was getting harder and harder to watch.

Watching the chances come and go without converting was never a good sign.

On the other touchline, the Coventry coach was much more lively.

”Stay switched on,” he was shouted, pointing at his defenders.

”Don’t switch off now. Don’t you dare switch off.”

His words sounded like a command, but the players couldn’t help but feel the silent plea.

The goal kick restarted the game, and everything tightened another notch.

Tackles became the most common occurrence.

The ball was contested with the desperation that the final minutes of a game like this produce.

It saw many players throwing themselves into challenges they’d have been more measured about an hour ago.

And with it came small altercations, some for the pettiest of reasons, like not handing over the ball directly into the hand for a throw-in.

”This is as tense as it gets in football,” the commentator said. ”Both sets of players are feeling every second now, and the referee is having a difficult time keeping a lid on things.”

As if to illustrate the point, the broadcast cut to the pitch where another squabble had started near the halfway line.

Leo had gone for the ball as a Coventry player held it under his foot, and the player had reacted, and now both of them were standing chest to chest with the referee moving across quickly.

Joe Bennet appeared between them, shoving Leo back with a tired look.

”Leave it,” he said, taking Leo by the arm and pulling him back. ”We’ve got bigger things. Leave it.”

Leo looked at the Coventry player for a second longer, then turned away.

From the throw-in, Bennet tried to get the ball across quickly, tossing it toward McClean on the left, but a Coventry player anticipated it and intercepted, pushing it ahead of Bennet into space before taking off down the left channel.

The player was in full stride with Bennet chasing, and at the end was space to cut into the box.

But he didn’t get to breathe on his thought because from behind, Leo appeared like a freight train.

The Coventry players saw this but couldn’t react fast enough as Leo swept through the ball and the player’s legs in one motion, almost like he was a ragdoll, and the Coventry fans rose immediately demanding a foul while the player himself went down appealing.

The referee, on the other hand, waved play on, and Leo was already on his feet with the ball, not even sparing a single glance back.

”Fifty-fifty and Leo wins it,” the commentator said. ”And the referee has

decided that was a fair challenge despite what Coventry thinks about it.”

Leo had now gotten away, but his view was getting crowded with Coventry shirts, so in the next move, he slipped the ball wide right to Darikwa, switching the play with one pass across a congested pitch.

”Good switch. Clever from Calderon, finding the space on the right when everything on the left had become congested.”

Darikwa, with the ball in tow, did enough to go past his man, but the cross that followed made the fans wonder if he was playing against them.

”The rush is doing nobody any favours,” the co-commentator sighed on the broadcast.

It was clear to all that neither side was trying to leave their fates up to the spotkicks.

Just after Leo let the ball go, he stopped running and just slowed to a walk for a few steps, before his hand went briefly to his left side, just below the ribs, where the elbow had caught him earlier.

It had been manageable for the last twenty minutes.

Almost like he felt a gaze, Leo glanced up and saw Dawson watching him from the touchline with a neutral gaze.

Their eyes met, but then Leo looked away first.

”For God’s sake,” he muttered under his breath, before refocusing on the goal kick being set up in the Coventry half.

The clock above the far end of the stadium read 88:14.

Soon the ninety was up, and that only meant one thing.

The fourth official raised the board as the crowd watched on hopefully, but despite all the pauses and delays, only 5 minutes were added onto normal time.

The stadium announcer’s voice came through the speakers, confirming it as both sets of fans returned to the pitch with more focus.

They weren’t missing anything in the remaining moments.

”Five added minutes,” the commentator said. ”And if these teams can’t be separated in those four minutes, we have extra time and then a possible penalty shootout!”

Like moths to a flame, Wigan pressed relentlessly in the final moments.

They had to win the ball back, but Coventry, who hadn’t even possessed the ball for much of the game, did well to keep it out of reach.

But the sense of urgency outweighed everything.

Tiehi, after coming in for Max Power, was full of unadulterated energy, and eventually his pressing won the ball back for Leo, but there was no time to spare.

The ball was immediately sent towards the middle where Leo slipped it wide to McClean, who pushed down the left and then cut it inside to Ezra arriving late, and for a moment the Coventry shape looked like it might open up.

The toes of the Coventry fans curled in their seats, but all they could do was watch.

Ezra drove toward the box, but then two Coventry defenders collapsed on him simultaneously.

The ball broke loose in the scramble, bouncing once before a blue shirt got a toe to it and sent it spinning away toward the edge of the area.

The move had died, but not when Leo had a say in it.

He was already beside the Coventry midfielder who had collected it, and before the player had properly settled his touch, he stuck his foot in and knocked it clean from the player’s feet, and the ball was his, close to the right touchline with his options limited and his legs burning.

He looked up, and there were bodies everywhere, but none he could claim was his.

He tried the cross anyway, swinging his right foot through it, and it was blocked immediately, but the weak clearance sent the ball looping back into the middle of the area rather than away from danger.

Leo knew he had to run.

It was that or leave things up to chance, but he liked the former better since he could affect it.

He was already inside the area by the time the ball reached its peak, coming down toward him at an awkward height.

It was awkward, but his decision was much more.

It wasn’t the right use for the scenario, but there was nothing right about the situation either.

He jumped off his left leg at the last second, drew his right leg back and met the ball on the volley as it dropped, catching it flush on the instep, and the connection made a sound that cut through everything else in the stadium.

”CAAALLLLLDEERRRROOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNN!”