Harbinger Of Glory

The ball that had been hanging in the air finally came back down.

It bounced once on the wet grass and rolled towards the edge of the pitch, almost unnoticed now that the whistle had gone.

Around it, the players who had spent the last ninety minutes fighting for every metre finally began to let go of whatever they had been holding onto.

Arsenal’s players dropped to the ground or bent over with their hands on their knees.

A few immediately turned towards Raya, still joyous about the save that had kept them from staying home without a point, as well as helping them become the first team to take points off this Wigan wonder team.

Across from them, Wigan’s players stood scattered around the pitch, some staring towards the penalty spot, others with their hands resting on their hips as the reality of the result slowly settled in.2

Two goals each and a point apiece, after everything.

”And that is it!” the main commentator finally announced, his voice cutting through the noise of the Emirates.

”Arsenal and Wigan Athletic share the points in one of the most extraordinary matches we have seen this season!”

The co-commentator let out a breath before answering.\

”Where do you even begin with that one?”

There was a small laugh in his voice, but he sounded genuinely exhausted by the match.

”Two-two in the end, but it could have finished three-two to either side. Wigan had a goal ruled out, Arsenal took the lead, Wigan came back, Arsenal went ahead again, and then that penalty right at the death. Raya makes that last save after the crossbar, and that is that.”

As they spoke, the broadcast camera moved away from the players surrounding Raya and found Leo.

He was still standing near the touchline and watching his teammates come off.

And before long, one of the Wigan medics had an arm around him while another walked beside him, helping guide him towards the tunnel.

His socks were soaked, his shirt clung to his body, and his hair was plastered against his forehead from the rain, but he had a lot more to care about.

He occasionally looked back towards the pitch, but he did not say anything, and the camera stayed with him for a few seconds before returning to the field.

”And Calderon is being helped away here,” the commentator added.

”He was at the centre of so much of this match, and that final incident will certainly be something we’ll be talking about for a while.”

His co-commentator nodded.

”It really was a controversial game. And honestly, despite missing that penalty at the end, I think Wigan are still going to feel cheated tonight.”

The main commentator turned slightly towards him.

”Strong words.”

”Yeah, they are strong,” the co-commentator judged, ”but I don’t think they’re unfair ones.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

”Look, they missed a penalty. That’s football, and they have to accept that. But you cannot look at that final kick in isolation.

Their first goal was disallowed after Calderon restarted the free kick quickly, and then you have the second Arsenal goal, where there was a very questionable decision not to give the foul on Calderon in the build-up.

There were several moments tonight where you expected VAR to at least have a look, and it never really seemed to arrive.”

The camera shifted again as if finding something interesting on the pitch and this time, it found Dawson.

He had just finished shaking hands with Mikel Arteta, but whatever courtesy existed between the two managers disappeared almost immediately afterwards.

Dawson turned towards the referee and began speaking, his expression still tight from the match.

The broadcast couldn’t catch his words, but he looked animated to say the least.

”And there is Dawson now,” the main commentator said. ”He’s certainly not finished with the officials.”

The co-commentator watched the exchange.

”I don’t think anyone expected him to be.”

On the broadcast, Dawson pointed back towards the pitch, clearly referring to one of the incidents that had taken place earlier, and the referee responded briefly, but whatever he said did little to change the manager’s expression.

Eventually, Dawson stopped.

He looked at the official for another second and then turned around, knowing it wasn’t going to go anywhere.

”He’s had enough,” the commentator observed as Dawson walked away.

He continued muttering under his breath as he crossed the technical area, occasionally shaking his head as members of his staff approached him.

Once in the tunnel, he had barely made it a few steps before one of the broadcast interviewers intercepted him.

”Dawson, can we get a quick word?”

The manager stopped, and for a moment, it looked as though he might continue walking.

Instead, he closed his eyes, took a slow breath and turned towards the interviewer.

”Thank you for your time,” the interviewer said, to which Dawson nodded.

”A lot of people are probably wondering: what are your thoughts on that ending and then the game as a whole?”

Dawson nodded at the words before starting to speak.

”I think we’ve just played an unfair game.”

The interviewer waited as the manager thought for a second.

His voice was calmer now, but the frustration had not disappeared.

”There were things that happened throughout that game that were outside our control.

We had a goal disallowed. We had a second goal conceded after what we believed was a foul on Leo, and then we got a penalty right at the end and didn’t take it. That’s football, so I’m not going to blame Reyes for missing it.”

He shook his head.

”But the rest of it? I don’t think that’s fair.”

”Do you think the officials got those decisions wrong?”

”I think everybody watching the game saw what happened,” Dawson said, nodding towards the pitch.

”I don’t want to sit here and complain about referees. That’s not what I’m interested in. But when your players give everything they have, and they feel like they’re playing against things they shouldn’t have to play against, it’s difficult to just walk away and say everything is fine.”

The interviewer tried to ask another question, but Dawson was already shaking his head.

”Whatever comes from this, it’ll probably be an apology. That’s it.”

”An apology, and nothing else.”

He gave a humourless smile after that and did not wait for another question.

He turned and walked away, leaving the interviewer standing there with the microphone still raised as the manager disappeared towards the tunnel.