Harbinger Of Glory

Leo eventually rose from the pile of bodies around him while the celebrations went on.

He straightened his shirt, brushed a few strands of grass from his shorts, and turned toward the home supporters before both fists went up, and they responded immediately.

The Wigan fans at that end roared back at him, thousands of voices combining into one wall of sound as Leo pumped his fists toward them again.

”And it’s been a while,” the lead commentator said, his voice cutting through the noise. ”It really has.”

The camera stayed on Leo.

”Calderon’s last Premier League goal came all the way back against Brentford at the end of October.

Of course, he shouldn’t be measured by goals alone, especially given the position he plays, but he will be delighted to have finally got another one.”

”Absolutely,” his co-commentator agreed.

”He’s still been contributing in other areas, but you could see how much that meant to him.”

Leo gave the supporters one final wave before turning away, and with that, the Wigan players began making their way back toward their half.

Chelsea were already gathered around the centre circle, and their eyes couldn’t help but drift to the scoreboard, even though they knew exactly what they were dealing with.

Just twenty-two minutes had been played, but Chelsea had a mountain to climb.

Across the Premier League, supporters watching the game began reacting almost immediately.

Some were laughing at Chelsea’s start, but many were less interested in Chelsea and more amused by what was happening to Wigan’s next supposed victim.

A few days earlier, Wigan had been the subject of plenty of discussion after their poor run of form.

The same mouths that had been talking about their poor run of form, however, were instantly on the necks of the Chelsea fans who hadn’t let up in the build-up to the game, talking smack about how they were going to be the next in line to take points from Wigan like it was some charitable organisation.

All that talk about Wigan dropping points and Chelsea coming to get their revenge, only to be 2–0 down before half an hour.

Another post appeared almost immediately.

: Chelsea really said ”we’ll get our lick back” and forgot Wigan had footballers.

: Talking the talk and then forgetting to walk the walk. Typical Chelsea.

Then another and another.

: Wigan were supposed to be collapsing.

: January window just opened, and these Wigan boys are making themselves very expensive.

The jokes continued, but back at the DW, Chelsea were trying to put them to an end.

The restart seemed to come with a bit more sense in their play as Palmer received.

Nkunku dropped deeper, seeing that there was no reason to stick in between Wigan’s defensive lines since the ball wasn’t even coming his way.

And so, with that, Chelsea began circulating the ball again, searching for a way through Wigan’s shape.

The harder they tried to force it, however, the more Wigan seemed to settle.

It was almost self-sabotage at times.

Chelsea would build patiently, find a small opening and then rush the next pass.

Then a Wigan player would step in, the ball would go loose, and Chelsea would have to start again.

Yet it was not completely one-sided.

There were moments when individual quality gave Chelsea something.

Palmer was the most obvious example.

He continued finding little pockets between Wigan’s midfield and defence, always looking to turn toward goal, but he wasn’t alone in it.

Nkunku also began drifting wider before cutting inside, dragging defenders away and creating space for the players around him.

The game remained uncomfortable for Chelsea, but not dead and in the 34th minute, Palmer stood over a free kick.

He placed the ball carefully as Amos arranged his wall and the referee stepped away.

Then, after the whistle came through, Palmer took his run-up and bent the ball over the wall.

Ben Amos moved and knew he was beaten despite his efforts.

The ball curled toward the top corner before clipping the post and flying away, and instantly, a groan rolled around the Chelsea end.

”Oh, it was almost golden for the away side. Palmer nearly gives Chelsea something there!”

The co-commentator shook his head and then added.

”That’s inches. Amos was beaten.”

The ball was eventually recovered, and Wigan played out from the back, holding the ball and playing how they were feeling in that moment; just not in a rush to do things, while Chelsea continued searching.

In the 39th minute, Nkunku found space outside the area, and tried to find a shirt he could call his own, but somehow there was nobody close enough to him.

Not Madueke.

Not Palmer and Certainly Not Nicholas Jackson.

Still, he proved eager to make something of it, and so he began to go at it.

He skipped past Tiehi, then shrugged Leo off as he lunged in, keeping the ball away, but realising he couldn’t go any further with the Wigan entourage ahead of him, he took one touch and cracked an effort from behind the box.

The ball climbed, leaving Ben Amos rooted to his spot and just spectating, before it clipped the top of the bar and went over once more in the span of 5 minutes.

”Another one!” the commentary bellowed on the broadcast as the Chelsea supporters groaned again.

”Nkunku with the effort from outside the box, but Wigan are still two up here. What a nice show of resilience from the Blues.”

The goal kick was taken, and in the few minutes that followed, Chelsea had chances, but they simply couldn’t turn them into goals.

As the half moved toward its final minutes, the balance began to change.

Wigan dropped a little deeper while Chelsea pushed their full-backs higher.

Gallagher started receiving further forward, while Palmer was given more freedom to drift into the spaces around the box.

The London side began keeping Wigan pinned back for periods and in one of these last-minute instances, a loose ball fell to Palmer, but Power threw himself into the passing lane.

The ball clipped his back and then went out of play.