Harbinger Of Glory

Leo peeled the compression sleeve from his arm as he walked through the tunnel and tossed it to one of the staff without a thought.

It was the decision he’d made before the interval.

Wolves had grabbed at it often enough in the first half that he’d stopped counting, with every tug buying them another fraction of a second whenever he tried to break away.

And so short sleeves it was for the second half.

As he reached the mouth of the tunnel, Jake fell into step beside him.

The striker had spent the entire break waiting for this moment, and it showed.

He rolled his shoulders once and drew in a long breath, looking less like a substitute entering a match and more like someone finally being let off a leash after forty-five minutes of watching.

”You know what this reminds me of,” he said as Leo looked at him.

”When we were losing three-nil in the U21S once.”

Jake smiled at the memory of it.

”Good times.”

He jogged ahead onto the pitch before Leo could respond, while Carlo appeared at Leo’s shoulder a moment later.

”What happened in that game?” Carlo said, curious at the conversation between the two.

At that, Leo smiled.

”We scored four in twenty minutes.”

He jogged off, leaving Carlo standing there, shaking his head.

”Why is everyone trying to be mysterious?” Carlo muttered and followed.

”No changes from Wolves at the interval,” the commentator said as the players settled, ”but Wigan have made two, and there’s also a tactical shift worth noting.

Will Keane makes way for Jake, and Joe Bennet comes off for Max Power, and the formation has shifted to a 3-2-4-1. I don’t know what Dawson wants to do with that, but we wait to see.”

Leo stood beside Reyes with Jake just ahead of them as the referee checked both ends and put the whistle to his mouth.

A moment later, he let the whistle sound through the pitch as Jake played it to Reyes, who turned it immediately to Max Power.

When this happened, the rest of the outfield players, everyone except the back three and Tiehi and Max Power himself, moved forward into the Wolves’ half before the pass had even settled.

Without waiting too long, Max Power set his sights into the opponent half and then let the ball fly.

The ball then began descending as both sides began tussling for the ball, until Jake rose and got his head to it, pushing it right.

There, Ezra collected it and took it inside immediately rather than down the flank, shifting the ball past Bellegarde’s outstretched boot with a touch that kept it moving.

”Wigan building immediately,” the commentator said. ”Barely seconds into the second half.”

Ezra shifted it left then right, keeping Wolves guessing, and then played it to Reyes on the edge of the box.

As Reyes took hold of the ball, he found his route to goal blocked.

Not waiting any longer, he recycled it quickly to Leo, who held it under his heel and waited, looking for something.

But a moment later, he shook his head slightly, turned and played it into the feet of Max Power.

”That’s a rare hesitation from Calderon,” the commentator said.

”He’s stalled the attack and killed the momentum his teammates had built.”

”Very unlike him,” the co-commentator agreed.

”And he’ll know that.”

Back on the pitch, Wigan recycled possession through Max Power and Tiehi before the ball arrived at Leo’s feet once more and he barely needed a touch.

Carlo was free, so the pass came immediately, but Leo’s eyes couldn’t help but drift beyond Carlo, catching the Wolves player slipping quietly into position behind his shoulder, waiting to pounce the moment the ball arrived.

”On you,” Leo said sharply.

Carlo heard it and pushed the ball away just as the challenge arrived, but it didn’t stop after that.

Nelson Semedo set off after it, the right back’s pace making what should have been a routine recovery suddenly feel like something else entirely.

The Wigan players were still pushed high and the space behind them very real, and so it was looking dangerous by the second when it seemed that Semedo would get to it.

Opposing the right back, Leo ran as the Wigan fans in the stands tracked both of them, Semedo and Leo, studying the footrace and anticipating who would get there, but at the last, Leo got there, with Semedo following after him just a split second later.

It looked like, still, Semedo would win the ball, but Leo did enough and lifted the ball over Semedo’s attempt to clip it away.

And in doing so, he redirected it into the space that Semedo’s press had created behind him.

Carlo, biding his time, read it immediately and set off, Andre Gomes drifting across to cover but not quickly enough.

It looked like he’d slow the game down, but in the next second, he knocked the ball further ahead and used his pace to stay with it.

When he got away from the nearest Wolverhampton player, Carlo barely needed a touch before wrapping his foot around the ball.

The cross flashed toward the near post before Wolves had time to reset, skimming through the six-yard box with pace, and Jake was already there.

Two yellow shirts stayed tight to him, both expecting the striker to attack the delivery.

”Dangerous ball in...” the commentator called.

”And Jake’s there!” he affirmed, but at the very last second, Jake ducked the effort.

He let the cross whistle over his shoulder instead of meeting it, and in doing so dragged both defenders completely out of the play.

”Oh, he’s left it!”

The ball bounced once inside the area as Rayan Aït-Nouri stepped in to clear, already drawing his leg back.

But he just never got the chance.

Like a harpoon hurled from Poseidon, Ezra burst across his blind side, arrived a fraction earlier, and met the bouncing ball first time.

The half-volley flew low through a crowd of legs, and José Sá reacted instantly, throwing himself across goal.

He stretched and reached, but even knew he wasn’t getting there as the ball skipped beyond his fingertips...

...and buried itself inside the far corner.

”OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THERE IT IS!!!!!!”

”GOOOOOOOOOOOAL! AND WIGAN ARE BACK IN IT!”

”WHAT A FINISH FROM EZRA!”

The DW exploded with every ounce of frustration that had built throughout the first half, vanishing in a single deafening roar.

Ezra almost wheeled away towards the corner before turning and sprinting toward the goal and then grabbing before Jose Sa could obstruct him.

From there, he turned towards the halfway line as his mates tried getting their grips on him, tugging at him as he placed the ball on the kick-off spot.

Around them, the stands shook as people who had spent forty-five minutes fearing the worst were suddenly on their feet again, roaring their side forward with renewed belief.

”This place has come alive!” the commentator shouted above the noise on the broadcast.

”And credit Wigan for the invention. Jake’s dummy is absolutely brilliant; it freezes the entire Wolves defence, and Ezra punishes them with a finish worthy of the occasion.”

’

”Game on,” the co-commentator said.

”Absolutely game on.”