Harbinger Of Glory

With his license now in hand and an off day on the squad, Leo decided to make use of the time.

Noah was already waiting outside the first dealership when Leo arrived, hands in his coat pockets, looking at a car in the window with mild interest.

”So,” Noah said as Leo reached him.

”What are we looking for?”

”Something that gets me from A to B,” Leo said, causing Noah to nod.

”A bit more specific,” the latter asked again as Leo stood seemingly in thought before he looked at Noah again.

”And it should be cute,” he added as Noah turned to look at him.

”Cute,” the agent repeated.

”Yeah.”

They’d gone through three dealerships in Wigan and somehow managed to leave all three without finding anything.

Leo couldn’t have explained exactly what he was looking for.

He just knew it wasn’t there.

Noah had stopped questioning that after the second dealership.

By midday they’d expanded the search into Manchester and were sitting on a bench near the city centre with iced coffees in hand and considerably less enthusiasm than they’d started the day with.

Leo leaned back and let out a long breath while Noah looked at him.

”You look exhausted.”

Leo turned his head.

”We’ve been walking for hours.”

”It’s more an hour and a half, but ok!”

”I rounded it off,” Leo said as Noah chuckled again.

Leo took a sip of his drink before setting the cup down.

”It was my day off.”

”Oh, sorry.”

Noah raised both hands.

”Didn’t realise the Premier League schedule had become so cruel. You’ve had 8 days now without playing football, so don’t make it seem like you haven’t”

Leo shook his head, smiling, and for a minute they just sat there watching people move through the square.

Then Noah spoke again.

”How was Brighton, really?”

”It was good,” Leo said after having relived the game in that short moment in his mind.

”But?”

Leo looked down at his cup.

”I was shattered.”

That got a laugh out of Noah.

”Yeah, that’ll happen.”

”It shouldn’t happen too often.”

”I know,” Noah took a drink.

”That’s just how it is. The first game’s always different,” Noah said with a little shrug.

”You spend years getting to that level, then you get there, you realise, you might have to get stronger, much faster and much quicker with thinking.”

”You were lucky,” Noah continued.

”Honestly, if Wigan hadn’t made it to the Premier League, I would have had you start looking for an out because most of the time, when a team gets so close to making it to the league but doesn’t, it messes with the psyche of the team.”

”So the following season, you see them playing in a way that screams a shell of themselves!”

He pointed at Leo.

”For you, anyone who watched the game could tell that your football brain can keep up. Your legs are just catching up.”

Leo nodded slowly, as that felt about right.

The Brighton game had been hard to follow at times with his legs, but when he looked at the game, he could always make things out.

A moment later, Noah stretched his legs out in front of him before turning to face Leo.

”And don’t be stupid about it.”

Leo raised an eyebrow.

”Meaning?”

”If you’re wrecked, say you’re wrecked.”

”I’m fine.”

”I am not saying currently,” Noah said as Leo laughed.

Noah pointed at him again.

”I’m serious. Half the players who run themselves into the ground do it because they think admitting they’re tired is some kind of weakness.”

He paused.

”Football burnout is real. Why do you think there are so many wasted potential players nowadays as compared to about a decade ago?”

”The players start off so early currently that by the time they are supposed to be hitting their primes, they are seeking retirement options.”

”I mean, just look at players like Ansu Fait. Immense talent but mismanaged and is now fighting to get fit each passing day.”

Leo looked out across the pavement where people drifted past carrying shopping bags and coffees and doing completely normal Saturday things.

”I don’t think I could get tired of football,” he suddenly made out as Noah looked at him.

Leo just shrugged.

”I just don’t know how,” he continued as a small smile appeared.

”I like it too much, and I don’t think I’ve really gotten my fill! Remember that I wasn’t playing too much during my very crucial development years.”

Noah smiled back at that.

”Fair enough.”

Then he pointed toward the pavement.

”Though judging by today, you might get tired of car shopping.”

”Definitely.”

They sat for another minute before Leo looked down at the empty stretch of pavement in front of them.

”I should’ve brought a ball.”

”Ok, that’s gone far enough,” Noah said as he stood up.

”What?”

”We’re finding you a car before you start juggling cans in bottles in public.”

Leo laughed and got to his feet as the two set off on their car hunt again.

In the next week, Leo found himself in just three things.

Trainings, Vittoria and the car hunt that he had now taken online.

There was Vittoria, mostly through phone calls that started at sensible hours and somehow never seemed to end when they were supposed to.

More than once, Leo glanced at the time and realised an hour had disappeared without either of them noticing.

The online car search suited him far better than spending entire afternoons walking around dealerships.

Most evenings found him on his laptop scrolling through listings, returning to the same few models over and over without ever committing to one.

When he mentioned this to Mia, she ignored him.

While that went on, Noah checked in a couple of times during the week, asking about the upcoming Skechers rotation.

And then doing so again, though this time was about a promotional event Wigan planned to do.

But sitting at the peak of it all was Chelsea, Wigan’s next game and at Stamford Bridge at that.

A club whose squad costed more than most teams could dream of spending, but one that still seemed to be searching for consistency after an uneven start to the season.

They had drawn on the first matchday with Liverpool, which wasn’t a bad result, but then on the second matchday, they had lost 3-1 to West Ham.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the travelling supporters to cling to.

By the morning of the match, trains heading south carried pockets of blue and white.

On the team bus, the mood was quieter.

The city appeared gradually beyond the windows as they moved deeper into London, and somewhere ahead sat Stamford Bridge, waiting for them.

Leo watched the buildings slide past and found himself thinking about all that had gone on throughout the week.

The work Dawson had put them through.

The adjustments they’d made before the game and the conversations they’d had about his role in this game compared to Brighton.

Eventually he put his earphones in and settled back into his seat.

London was alive and waiting!