Harbinger Of Glory

Leo, already back at the centre line, brought the ball down with his chest from the clearance’s trajectory and laid it out to Darikwa out wide!

”I don’t know how Wigan haven’t scored,” the commentator continued.

”I genuinely don’t. Carlo did everything right there. Same with the pass from Reyes, but that was Kobel and only Kobel.”

”It was all Kobel,” the co-commentator agreed. ”Carlo Regutti... No, no player will hit that better. You cannot ask for more from that chance.”

Carlo, reeling inwardly, held a thumbs up to Reyes before turning back and jogging to hug the touchline.

From there, the match moved on, and the tug of war continued with Wigan pulling and Dortmund pulling, neither side yet giving the other anything clean.

And it stayed that way as the clock moved past fifty-five minutes and toward sixty.

Then Sabitzer went in on Leo.

It wasn’t malicious, but it was late.

The challenge came in after the ball had gone, catching Leo’s ankle with enough force that he went down clutching it, and immediately, the referee’s whistle came before he produced the yellow card without much deliberation.

To that, the Dortmund fans also made their feelings known.

The referee came to check on Leo, who sat on the grass and reached down to his boot, feeling along his toes through the leather, pressing once before nodding at whatever the check told him.

He looked up at the referee and nodded again, and after a moment, he got to his feet.

On the touchline, Dawson had his at the Dortmund bench where Reus, Brandt and Sule had all risen to their feet and were peeling off their training tops.

Standing a few metres away was Edin Terzic, who was locked in a conversation with his assistant before he turned towards his players after they all had their jerseys on.

”Pre-season,” Dawson muttered to himself, and the word came out sounding less like a reminder and more like a mild complaint.

The free kick restarted the game, and Max Power played it to Leo, who took it and slowed.

He raised his leg like he was going to play it wide, and at that, Reyna jumped into the passing lane immediately, reading the intention with his body set to block it.

Leo drove forward instead.

The crowd tracked him, uncertain, and the commentary came up behind him as he crossed into the final third, the same corridor Carlo had taken seven minutes ago, and the comparison was there for anyone watching.

He reached the edge of the box and slipped it to Reyes, and then he ran.

”It’s Calderon into space here. Is this a repeat?”

Hummels tracked him.

Papadopoulos tracked him.

And in that same locality, Ryerson stayed disciplined.

Those three players followed Leo into the box, which left Reyes with Nmecha closing in, and all the time that those three bodies not being near him had created.

The trio still followed Leo until there was nowhere else to go, and when the ball still didn’t come, they turned to look back, and when they did, all they saw was Nmecha throw himself in the way while Reyes nudged the ball to his right with the outside of his boot, just enough to shift the angle, and then he bent it.

The ball rose around Nmecha, moving away from the goal before bending back as the fans behind the goal watched on.

That was all they could do as the ball dipped further a second later, before it hit the inside of the right post past Kobel, who had stuck his fingers out to the edge and settled into the back of the net.

For a moment, Reyes just stood there, and then something took over, and he was running, and the direction he chose was toward the south end of the ground.

Toward the loudest section of the Dortmund support, and when he got there, he just stood in front of them and raised a finger to his lips.

The response was immediate and enormous, the boos and the noise coming back at him in a wave, and he stood in it and shushed them again with the serene expression of a man who was enjoying himself completely.

”GOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLL WIGAN!!!!!!!!”

”That is beautiful football and the finish from Matheus Reyes,” the commentator said, and then paused, ”but credit to Calderon. He had them sticking on him like moths to a flame. He is that attractive to the Dortmund defenders!”

”And now, Reyes has gone to the Yellow Wall to celebrate it. He has walked up to eighty thousand Dortmund supporters and told them to be quiet.”

”And they have not been quiet.”

”No,” the co-commentator said.

”They have absolutely not been quiet. But what a goal. What a finish. And this pre-season game had just stopped feeling like a pre-season. Game on now!”

...

The Signal Iduna might not have celebrated the Wigan goal, but in the town of Wigan, it was rowdy to say the least.

It was a workday, and yet when the ball found the back of the net, it was almost like the town had agreed to cheer at the same moment.

Even people who were supposedly working began cheering.

”Reyes is a fucking gem,” a man said in the confines of the lunchroom at work, and his mates around him couldn’t agree more.

In Forte dei Marmi, Vittoria celebrated slightly, not wanting to oust herself before falling back onto her bed after jumping on it to the point of almost falling off it.

”So this is how it feels,” she asked herself as she returned her gaze to the screen.

It wasn’t Leo who had scored, but she didn’t care because she knew that if it hadn’t been for Leo, that goal might not have worked out.

....

”And Dawson is elated,” the commentary came through on the broadcast as Dawson fisted the air once.

”The change he’s made has made an impact, and now it is currently one-all at the Signal Iduna here, in Dortmund!”

On the pitch, Edin Terzic frowned a bit before returning his attention to the matters that needed addressing.

As the Wigan players walked back to their half, the announcer came through while on the sidelines, Papadopoulos, Giovanni Reyna and Bamba all came off for Niklas Sule, Julian Brandt, and then Dortmund legend and arguably their greatest player of the 21st century, Marco Reus.