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Harbinger Of Glory

Chapter 357: Second 45! · Oct 18, 2026

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Chapter List (629)

Page number / 13

351 Chapter 351: Reality Hits! 2026-10-18
352 Chapter 352: Something Uncomfortable! 2026-10-18
353 Chapter 353: Wrong Man To Press! 2026-10-18
354 Chapter 354 - 20 Minute War! 2026-10-18
355 Chapter 355: London’s Bridge Falls Down! 2026-10-18
356 Chapter 356: Half Time Across the country! 2026-10-18
357 Chapter 357: Second 45! 2026-10-18
358 Chapter 358: Down And Down! 2026-10-18
359 Chapter 359: A Goal For The Fallen 2026-10-18
360 Chapter 360: Unsettling! 2026-10-18
361 Chapter 361: Not A Fluke! 2026-10-18
362 Chapter 362: Aftermath Of The London Success! [GT - !] 2026-10-18
363 Chapter 363: Bad Decisions! 2026-10-18
364 Chapter 364: The Story Grows Legs! 2026-10-18
365 Chapter 365: Nothing Is Ever Enough! 2026-10-18
366 Chapter 366: A Boyhood Dream! 2026-10-18
367 Chapter 367: Girl And A Golf! 2026-10-18
368 Chapter 368: Playing House! 2026-10-18
369 Chapter 369: You’ll Be Alright Kid! 2026-10-18
370 Chapter 370: A Homecoming Eleven Years in the Making 2026-10-18
371 Chapter 371: Who Else! 2026-10-18
372 Chapter 372: Hammers’ Equalizer? 2026-10-18
373 Chapter 373: Rising Expectations! 2026-10-18
374 Chapter 374: A Tremor! 2026-10-18
375 Chapter 375: On Course! 2026-10-18
376 Chapter 376: Three From Three! 2026-10-18
377 Chapter 377: Do You Know Calderon? 2026-10-18
378 Chapter 378: The Calderon Paradox! 2026-10-18
379 Chapter 379: Back In Rome! 2026-10-18
380 Chapter 380: Back In Rome! [2] 2026-10-18
381 Chapter 381: A Welcome Protocol! 2026-10-18
382 Chapter 382: Eyes! 2026-10-18
383 Chapter 383: An Oldhead! 2026-10-18
384 Chapter 384: No Time To Waste! 2026-10-18
385 Chapter 385: A White Bib! 2026-10-18
386 Chapter 386: Under The Tricolore! 2026-10-18
387 Chapter 387: The New Italian Football! 2026-10-18
388 Chapter 388: Spalletti’s Lesson! 2026-10-18
389 Chapter 389: Nothing New! 2026-10-18
390 Chapter 390: European Qualifier! 2026-10-18
391 Chapter 391: Honeymoon Ends! 2026-10-18
392 Chapter 392: No Excuses! 2026-10-18
393 Chapter 393: A Necessary Shock! 2026-10-18
394 Chapter 394: Disrupting The Order! 2026-10-18
395 Chapter 395: Underway! 2026-10-18
396 Chapter 396: GO! 2026-10-18
397 Chapter 397: As Intended 2026-10-18
398 Chapter 398: A Reward For Their Football. 2026-10-18
399 Chapter 399: Finding The Target Man! 2026-10-18
400 Chapter 400: A Deadball Situation! 2026-10-18

The Wigan dressing room felt like a separate existence.

The players slumped into their seats, easing themselves into the break as they tried to recover as much of the energy as they could before the second half.

Dawson had already said what he needed to say.

”You’ve put yourselves in a good position,” he’d told them.

”But there is still 45 minutes left to play, and that should be enough to keep you on your feet. Let’s not waste our work.”

That had been enough.

Carlo sat with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

Every now and then someone nudged him or mentioned the goal, and he shook his head with a grin that never quite left his face.

Across from him, Ezra was drinking water and listening to Fletcher explain something about the run that had led to the second goal.

Not far away, Reyes had his phone out, but Nolan spotted it immediately.

”Put that away.”

Reyes sighed.

”I need to keep my fans updated!”

”Bro,” Jake said as he himself put his phone away.

While this went on, Leo sat against the wall with one knee raised, barely paying attention to the conversation around him.

He couldn’t help but think about what Chelsea, or Mauricio Pochettino, was possibly planning.

”You alright?” Ezra suddenly said as Leo nodded before he turned towards the winger, wondering what he had even asked.

”What?”

”You’ve covered half of London.”

Leo laughed.

”I’m fine.”

Ezra stared at him for a bit while Leo seemed to come to his normal self.

It wasn’t his job to think for the coach.

All he could do now was rest and hope Dawson had countermeasures to whatever Chelsea had in their tanks!

........

Mia was halfway through a box of chips when Sofia finally looked at her and laughed.

”Slow down.”

Mia shook her head immediately and pointed the fork at her.

”No. I need this.”

”Everyone needs food,” Sofia replied.

”I need lots of food,” Mia corrected.

”I’m pretty sure all the blood left my body during that half.”

At that, Sofia’s smile widened.

”It wasn’t that bad.”

”It absolutely was.”

Mia stuffed another chip into her mouth before continuing.

”I nearly died twice during the first goal. This is really not for the weak.”

Sofia shook her head, smiling.

”Imagine how tense you are in the stands. How do you think your brother feels down there?”

Mia’s expression softened slightly as she looked toward the pitch, but that didn’t last too long.

”Ahh, he’ll be fine,” she said as she continued to wolf down her food, all while Sofia shook her head.

Before she could manage her next words, a roar suddenly rolled around Stamford Bridge.

The players were beginning to emerge from the tunnel again, and that noise snapped Mia out of her thoughts.

Supporters rose from their seats all around them as the second half approached, conversations breaking off and attention returning to the pitch.

Then another sound reached her ears.

This one was a bit different, as a set of feminine voices began shouting names, more specifically, one name.

”LEOOOO!”

”CALDERON!”

Mia blinked as a few rows down, a group of young women were waving excitedly toward the pitch, their voices carrying surprisingly well through the surrounding noise.

Mia stared for a second before a laugh escaped her.

”What?” Sofia asked.

Mia shook her head.

”Nothing,” she said, shaking her head a bit while looking back toward the pitch where her brother was.

”Vittoria would strangle all of them.”

Sofia immediately started laughing.

”I don’t think she’s like that.”

”She absolutely would.”

Mia pointed toward the girls.

”She’d smile first, but you’d wish she’d cuss you out instead. That smile of hers always looks unsettling.”

While she spoke, a memory surfaced instantly.

Leo had done an interview a few months earlier with a reporter after a match.

The interview itself had been completely normal, but the problem had been the reporter.

Or more specifically, the fact that the woman interviewing him had been very obviously flirting with him.

Vittoria had insisted she wasn’t jealous.

Then she’d proceeded to ignore Leo for nearly two hours afterwards, so much so that Leo had to use Mia to get through to her.

And that was at a point where they weren’t really dating yet, though the idea of it was there.

Mia had never let Leo or Vittoria forget it.

”I didn’t know that,” Sofia said with a little laugh as Mia narrated the little incident to her.

After a while, the duo returned their attention fully back towards the game as the players spread across the pitch.

Leo jogged into position and settled immediately into the back line, sliding neatly between Whatmough and O’Shea as though he’d been playing there his entire life.

Back in the gantry, the commentators were also returning from the break.

”Welcome back to Stamford Bridge where, if you’re just joining us, you’re arriving in the middle of quite the story.”

”Chelsea one, Wigan Athletic two.

Not many people would’ve predicted that scoreline at half-time, but Wigan have earned every bit of it.”

”They certainly have,” the co-commentator affirmed.

”But now the question is whether they can sustain it.

Forty-five minutes is a long time against a Chelsea side that will feel they have plenty left to give.”

The broadcast camera panned to the two managers again, and at that, the commentary came in again.

”No visible changes from either manager during the interval.

Same twenty-two players and the same shape from both teams.”

”Which means the next few minutes are going to tell us a lot.

Chelsea will want a response immediately, and Wigan will want to remind everyone why they’re leading.”

Down the pitch, the players finished taking their positions as the referee checked both assistants.

Then he looked toward the centre circle where Nicolas Jackson stood over the ball.

A moment later, he brought the whistle to his lips and let it rip, sending a shrill sound through the pitch.

And that prompted Jackson, who rolled it backwards to restart the second half.

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