Harbinger Of Glory

The cursor blinked at the end of the sentence, and even though that was all it just did, it made the mood feel more impatient.

The blogger reread the paragraph once, then again, fingers hovering over the keys as if waiting for permission that wasn’t coming.

He exhaled, cracked his knuckles, and kept going.

Reckless, not heroic.

That was the headline.

He didn’t bold it yet.

He wanted it to sit there plainly, like a verdict.

He wrote about the moment everyone remembered.

Leo going down the first time.

The medics stepping in.

The pause and then the hand that waved them away.

The way he stayed on when the sensible thing would have been to come off.

”Anyone watching could see it,” he typed.

”Anyone.”

”Yes, Leo scored.”

Yes, it changed the game. ”

”It dragged Wigan back from the edge and gave them a chance they took with both hands in the shootout of the FA Cup 5th round.”

”That part was undeniable.”

”But football didn’t end at the final whistle, and in a competition where Wigan were most likely to get knocked out, the cost didn’t feel worth the prize.”

He wrote about the table and Wigan’s place on it.

About them having momentum and about the thin margin Wigan were operating on.

He wrote that pushing through an injury when your team is chasing promotion wasn’t bravery, it was gambling.

And the stakes weren’t just personal.

”We all know what Wigan look like without Leo Calderón,” he typed, not bothering to soften it.

”We’ve seen it. If Shaun Maloney doesn’t find an answer, and quickly, then talk of playoffs is just that. Talk.”

He paused, then added one last line.

”Dreaming doesn’t win you points.”

Only then did he hit publish, and it didn’t really take long for the comment counter to start ticking as the blogger, even if it wasn’t the reason for his article, got reactions!

The comments came fast.

Some were instant and furious.

One account promised the blogger would ”never know peace again.”

Another dragged his family into it, somehow.

A third told him to ”stick to chess” and used a word that got filtered out.

Others were shorter and much more comprehensible.

”He’s right.”

”Hard to hear but true.”

”Leo should’ve gone off.”

A few or the third side of the group, also slowed things down, using the contribution as a talking point.

”He scored. That’s the truth!”

”The lad’s not even eighteen, give him a break. I would have wanted to play too. Personally, I think I blame the staff, not the player. How could you leave a player on because he told you to when you know that what he was dealing with could be detrimental!”

The thread turned into a mess of loyalty and logic, love and frustration tripping over each other.

Meanwhile, Ezra scrolled in silence.

He sat on the couch in Leo’s living quarters, one ankle hooked over the other, and the phone held low.

The place still smelled faintly of shampoo because someone had decided to take a cab to shower at someone else’s place for no apparent reason.

And that someone, Jake, lay on the floor with his back against the couch, a takeaway box balanced on his stomach.

He fished out a chip, frowned at it, and ate it anyway.

”Some of these people are unhinged,” Jake said, peering at his own screen.

”This one just cursed a man’s bloodline over a blog post.”

Ezra didn’t look up.

”There’s truth in it.”

Jake turned his head.

”You’re not serious.”

”I am,” Ezra said.

”I don’t really agree with all the takes, but most are true. Especially when I was really hoping to get a few kicks in,” the latter said reminiscingly, but Jake sat up.

”He scored.”

”And he got hurt,” Ezra replied while snapping out of his daydream.

”Both things can be true. And now, with Leo out, the gaffer has to rethink other options, which I am sure we’ll find, but it will just be a tape on a cracked jaw.”

Jake chewed on that, then shrugged.

”Still feels ungrateful. Leo literally kept the season alive.”

Ezra scrolled again, slower now.

”Yeah. FA cup season, sure, but now he’s out for months if the reports are true.”

Jake sighed and pushed the box aside.

”Some football fans are weird. Love you until you stop being useful.”

”They’re emotional,” Ezra said. ”So was Leo.”

Before either of the two boys could say anything, the door to the room swung open, causing the boys to look in that direction, and there, Leo’s crutch stepped into the room first.

”Yo, you could have gotten us to help you,” Ezra said as he rose to his feet.

Leo managed a little smile before nodding in the direction of Jake, who was also just clearing out the mess he had made.

”And give that guy the chance to call me a cripple,” he said as Ezra came to his side, helping Leo until they got to the bed.

Leo sat down with a heavy breath, before laying the crutch at the foot of the bed.

”So what now?” Jake asked after Leo seemed settled.

”Well, I guess all I can do is wait now,” Leo said as he shrugged.

”Hmm, I thought you’d be feeling stumped,” Ezra said while he pointed behind his back with his thumb.

”You know, like how sobby you were after the game,” he continued while Leo shook his head.

”I still am, but I figured I can’t really do anything about it. It hurts and is irritating that I got injured right after making my place in the team, but now I have to give it up again, but since I did it once, I can do it again, right?”

Ezra, hearing how optimistic Leo was, stared keenly, side-eyeing the latter until Leo finally coughed up another slight smile.

”You motherfucker,” Ezra suddenly called.

”Language,” Jake sang from the kitchenette, but Ezra was too poised to care about what Jake the doofus had to say.

”What really got you smiling like that?” Ezra barked again, but Leo still shook his head.

”What do you mean?” he feigned while Ezra pressed.

*sigh*

”You leave me no choice,” Ezra suddenly said as he called Jake from the kitchenette.

”Tickle him,” Jake heard from Ezra and immediately got into action, putting his hands to the ribs of Leo but making sure he went nowhere near the injured leg.

Leo chuckled uncontrollably, calling out to Jake that he might pee himself, but the latter still went on, and it was only after he said that he would speak that Jake stopped.

”Now tell us really what went on!” Ezra said as Leo wiped a tear from his eye and a bit of snot from his nose.