Harbinger Of Glory

The noise inside the DW carried through the walls long before the players stepped out.

For their second home game in a row, the Wigan crowd had decided to turn out, hoping to see a show or at least see their team maintain their promotion ambitions.

Because even though they knew it was very hard, it wasn’t impossible, and they could afford to dream.

Down in the locker room, Leo came out of the washroom,

rubbing his hands together before he began tugging at the hem of his compression tights.

Dawson walked in at that moment, brushing past a couple of staff members who inquired about a few things before letting Dawson walk.

”Listen up,” Dawson said, stepping into the middle of the room.

”We made a small adjustment to the lineup. Nothing major. We’ve already talked it through with the lads involved.”

Leo glanced around and caught a few teammates nodding quietly to each other.

Dawson continued, his voice steady.

”Trust what we’ve worked on. Trust the guy next to you. Win this, and we’re one point off eighth.”

”We are doing something that will make ourselves proud at the end of the day, so hold on whenever you think about letting it all go,” Dawson said, giving the players something to hold onto.

Before anyone could say anything else, one of the matchday staff appeared at the doorway with Nolan behind him.

”We need them in the tunnel in two.”

Dawson nodded once at the words of the staff before turning towards his players.

The players got to their feet immediately afterwards.

Leo, who had just finished slipping shin guards into his socks, got up and got his phone from his bag before sliding it into the locker.

”Let’s go,” Max Power, Wigan’s captain for the day in place of Darikwa, who would be starting from the bench, roared, while the rest of the players followed.

Once outside, Wigan settled on the right side of the tunnel.

Leo found his place in the row, standing just behind Will Keane.

The muffled chant from the stands pushed through the tunnel’s opening, growing louder as the anthem music tested the speakers outside.

After a few moments by themselves, the referee walked up to the front of the line, whistle already in hand and the rest of the officials by his side.

”Alright, follow me out.”

The tunnel emptied into a wall of colour and noise the moment the first player stepped out.

The floodlights washed the pitch in bright white, but it was the crowd that stole the moment, rising to greet the team with a rumble that shook through the grass.

Wigan’s players walked out in a steady line, boots tapping the turf, heads lifting as the stadium welcomed them.

Leo blinked against the lights and let himself get accustomed to the noise while the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, sharp and carrying.

”Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the DW Stadium.”

A roar answered him as Tilt, behind Leo, let out a small laugh.

”Tonight, Wigan Athletic versus Hull City.”

More applause, a pocket of cheers, a few taunts tossed at the away end as the announcer launched into the starting lineup, calling each name with the kind of dramatic lift fans loved.

”Number 22.. Leeoooo!”

”Calderonnnn!”

The crowd shouted the last part with him, stretching the name until it felt like it wrapped around the entire stadium.

”At right back, number two, Ryaaaan Nyambe!”

Another wave of cheers rained as he continued down the list until he reached the end of the names.

Afterwards, the teams broke from the lineup and moved toward their respective halves.

Leo jogged lightly across the grass to get his legs loose again.

The fans near the barriers leaned over and shouted encouragements, some calling his name, others yelling things he couldn’t make out, but he showed them a thumbs-up for their effort.

And then the commentary team picked up their cue on the broadcast as the players settled into position.

”We’re about ready for kickoff here at the DW,” one of them said, tone almost crisp over the broadcast.

”Wigan come into tonight looking for back-to-back wins, and a victory could put them just a single point off eighth. A lot of pressure, but also a lot of opportunity.”

”Today, they go against Hull City, a team that has somehow underperformed according to expectations, but I am sure they will want to hit the ground running after some staff changes in the club. Now, to my partner, Casey. Is there anyone to look out for?”

The latter chuckled slightly, eyes glossing over the pitch from the gantry before settling on a player the Wigan fans now knew all too well.

”Yeah. I’d say Calderón. The young player has become a real spark for Dawson’s team. He had been mostly given the stage from the bench, but this is his second start and one in a while after being absent from the team for a while.”

”I truly hope he can give another proper showing because it would help him stabilise his standing in the team, and the crowd also seem to think he can do so.”

”Well, I am sure Coach Dawson would also want the same from his, in some way, ’protege’! ”

Back on the pitch, the referee checked both goalkeepers, glanced at his watch, and took three steps back before sounding his whistle.

The ball rolled backwards to Hull’s midfield the moment the whistle went, and the DW shifted into a steady chorus of noise that rose and dipped with every early touch.

Hull didn’t waste time, pushing their fullbacks up and trying to turn the first seconds into a statement.

Wigan, on the other hand, reacted well and stayed compact, letting them carry it around the centre circle.

”Hull look confident early,” the main commentator said, watching their midfield pull the strings. ”Plenty of movement, plenty of numbers around the ball.”

”They’re trying to unsettle Wigan before they can settle themselves,” his partner replied. ”Legs are fresh, and this is exactly when teams try to steal a little momentum.”

Hull switched play out to their right, forcing the Wigan midfield, consisting mainly of Leo and Max Power, to scramble across.

Leo pressed the fullback but didn’t overcommit, just angled him away from the inside pass.

The ball returned to Hull’s central pair, then shifted once more to the far side.

”Wigan are reading it well,”

the first commentator added. ”Dawson’s not going to mind them keeping it in these areas.”It took almost a minute before Wigan won their first duel, a sliding intervention from Will Keane that sent the ball bouncing to Mclean out wide.

The fans rose at the first hold of possession as the latter drove forward, but Hull recovered quickly and boxed him in.

”Good idea from Mclean,” the co-commentator said. ”Just needed someone running past him there.”

On the touchline, Dawson gestured for Joe Bennet to move with Mclean as the winger recycled it backwards, and Wigan reset.

A few short passes later, they tried again through the left.

Mclean received a bouncing ball, shaped to push it past his marker, and then the noise from the stands sharpened into a collective groan.

McLouvin had come through him, and he had come hard.

”Ah, that’s a heavy one,” the main commentator said as Mclean hit the turf, palms pressed into the grass.

That’s McLouvin stepping in to remind everyone what kind of match he wants tonight. The referee might have to do him the honours, though.”

The referee jogged over while Hull’s defender stood there with his hands raised, expression almost bored, while Mclean pushed himself upright, wincing.

A couple of Wigan players approached, none of them aggressive, just irritated at how all their opponents seemed to start games.

”Look, he gets the ball, but he gets everything else as well,” the co-commentator said. ”You can’t complain if you see a yellow for that.”

The referee, after his usual lecture, simply pointed for play to restart, unwilling to ship out the first card of the game just yet.

”Well,” the main commentator muttered, half-amused, ”McLouvin will be loving that. Mclean definitely won’t. That’s him setting the tone within five minutes.”

”And the referee’s just told everyone he’s going to let a bit go tonight,” his partner added. ”Which means battles on both wings are about to get very real.”

Players from both sides repositioned while Mclean stretched out his leg, still annoyed but able to continue.

Wigan’s captain, Max Power, told him to shake it off while Hull’s defender backed away to take up his line.

From that point onwards, the match just settled into the usual lull of the Championship, one of the side effects of both teams being too wary of each other, causing a lack of inventiveness among the players.

Leo, though, had no trouble because the second he got the ball from a loose touch, he turned towards the Wigan half and bolted, immediately searching for where Wigan could penetrate Hull City.