Harbinger Of Glory

The sun was now sitting very pridefully in its place when they came out of the cafe into the afternoon.

Stretching as he walked ahead, Leo turned and yawned slightly before looking at Noah, only to find the latter looking right past his shoulder.

”You might want to find your car,” Noah said a moment later when he found Leo’s questioning gaze.

Hearing the former’s words and following the direction of his gaze, Leo turned, and when he did, he saw several phones pointed in his direction from across the street.

Leo almost faltered as he watched the sparse crowd that was acting like they were making a documentary over where he was.

Leo clicked his tongue and raised a hand in a small wave a second later before turning towards Noah.

”Still can’t get used to it,” he said.

”Ahuh,” Noah replied, but then pointed at the Golf parked along the kerb.

Leo looked at it and then at Noah.

”Stay safe,” he said, earning a nod from his agent before he slid into the car.

A moment later, he drove away, quickly sliding into traffic while Noah continued away on foot.

........

Like how things were in the football world, fans quickly moved on from the weekend games, already looking forward to what was next, which was the last round of games before the international break that was up in a few days.

But for Wigan, on the Tuesday morning, Dawson had already stopped the session four times.

”No,” his voice cut across the training pitch.

”Again.”

The players reset without complaint and in the next sequence, the ball was worked through midfield once more before Carlo tried to force a pass between two mannequins and immediately, Dawson blew his whistle.

”No shortcuts, Carlo,” he called.

”In the previous game, we gave the ball away too many times trying to find what wasn’t even there. If you can’t pass like Pirlo or like Messi, keep the ball. If it isn’t on, don’t invent it.”

Carlo sighed and jogged back into position.

From the edge of the drill, Leo exchanged a glance with Ezra.

Someone was going to hear about Nottingham Forest before training ended, and indeed, they didn’t have to wait long.

Dawson gathered the squad together with a wave of his arm.

”Forest,” he began, ”on paper are better than us. I mean the whole league is, but that is only on paper. Don’t let them be better than you on the pitch!”

”They’ll let you have the ball if that’s what you want, but that is exactly what we are training to avoid.”

He looked around at every player before continuing.

”They went to Selhurst Park and came away with a draw, but that was only because of them not being clinical enough, but we might not be as lucky. Ask Crystal Palace if that was an easy afternoon.”

The players nodded, but that was only because Dawson looked like he might have them run laps if they didn’t.

Elsewhere, the talk of Arsenal having edged Manchester City 1-0 a few days ago, and Liverpool being held to a draw by Brighton resurfaced.

A few days ago, the results had rippled through the Premier League, but with the next round on the horizon, it brought back talks and conversations most people didn’t want to acknowledge, one being that the table had changed again.

And that one thing remained constant with that one thing, or one team being Wigan Athletic.

With City beaten and Liverpool dropping points, Wigan found themselves four points clear of Arsenal before a ball had even been kicked at the City Ground.

At first, the talk had been about a strong start.

Then it became questions about whether they could keep it up.

Now, for the first time, another word had begun creeping into previews and television discussions.

Title.

Usually followed by a quick reminder that it was still early.

Usually followed by someone insisting they shouldn’t be getting carried away.

But the word was there all the same.

And once it entered the conversation, it became harder to ignore.

The Wigan coach rolled into the City Ground just over ninety minutes before kick-off.

The reception waiting for it was anything but welcoming.

The Nottingham Forest supporters crowded behind the barriers outside the stadium, jeering as the players stepped off the bus.

A chorus of boos followed every familiar face as a few supporters shouted names, then followed it by saying things that would make strippers even feel ashamed.

Others simply applauded sarcastically at a few players, mostly Leo, but then the rest of the squad too as the players made their way toward the entrance.

None of it crossed the line.

But none of it was friendly, either.

It was the kind of welcome reserved for a team people had started taking seriously.

The Wigan players barely acknowledged it, but more than one pair of shoulders straightened as they walked into the stadium.

If Forest wanted to make them feel unwelcome...they had no intention of making themselves comfortable.

When the match began, Wigan showed that whatever had happened outside, they took personally and even from the first showing, the Nottingham fans knew that they could be in for a world of hurt that afternoon.

Wigan played the game with their heads on the line, almost like they’d die if they didn’t get to the ball, and that translated into Nottingham Forest running around like headless chickens in the early minutes.

But it wasn’t only that.

In the seventeenth minute, the spaces between Nottingham’s midfield and defence were growing with every attack, and Leo was the first to spot it.

He drifted into the right half-space and received the ball on the turn before glancing almost half-assedly towards the box, but for him, it was okay.

Leo wrapped his right foot around the ball as the pass curled invitingly into space, dropping perfectly into Power’s stride, and once it got there, the midfielder didn’t rush it.

He took one touch to steady himself before guiding a low finish beyond the goalkeeper and into the far corner despite the pressure.

For a split second, Power simply stood there, almost making sure it had gone in.

Then a smile broke across his face as his teammates raced towards him.