Harbinger Of Glory

Even with the swarm, Ezra forced his way past an outstretched leg of Caicedo, but a second later, he wished he had collided with that leg because Lewis Dunk slid in, clearing the ball from his feet smoothly, sending him tumbling to the ground while Dawson on the touchline grabbed his head in frustration at the move not working.

The ball rolled agonisingly towards the throw line, but Lamptey refused to let it die.

The Brighton fullback slid in at full stretch and hooked it back into play just before it crossed the line.

”Lamptey keeps it alive!” the commentator exclaimed.

The former sprang to his feet immediately and pushed forward, legs churning as he drove into the open grass, and Brighton shirts responded instantly, spreading ahead of him as the move gathered pace.

Lamptey fed it inside to Solly March, who switched the play wide again with one touch.

The ball moved quickly now, Brighton sensing the moment to kill the game as they surged toward the Wigan box, but their attack ended with a deflected cross spinning out behind for a corner.

”And time is ticking away for Wigan,” the co-commentator said with the tension creeping into his voice.

”The final whistle is edging closer.”

Down on the touchline, Dawson had both arms out, urging his players back into shape, but even Nolan, standing a few metres away, had a hard time hearing that.

Near the corner flag, Estupiñán placed the ball carefully at the corner arc and took a few quick steps back.

And without wasting much time, the delivery came in hard and fast, curling viciously toward the near side of the six-yard box.

The numbers in the box fought tooth and nail for it, but ultimately, Welbeck rose and got to it.

He climbed above the pack, hanging in the air long enough to meet the ball cleanly.

”It’s DANNNNNYYY WELLLLBEEECKK!!!” the commentary bellowed as the header thundered goalward, past the arms of Ben Amos as it threatened to enter at the far end, but at the last second, it smashed against the post.

”Oh, off the woodwork!” the commentator recovered.

The ball ricocheted wildly across the face of goal, but before a Brighton leg could poke it into the back of the net, Charlie Hughes swung through it without ceremony and launched the clearance high into the night sky.

For a moment, it seemed like nothing more than relief.

But then a single bounce changed everything.

The ball dropped near the halfway line and kicked awkwardly over Lewis Dunk’s outstretched boot as the Brighton captain tried to bring it under control.

”Oh, that’s loose!” the commentator yelled, but Ezra was on it before he could finish.

He burst forward like a man released from chains, swooping in to collect the ball just as it skipped away from Dunk.

Suddenly, there was nothing but green ahead of him and the Brighton goal looming in the distance.

”Ezra’s through!” the commentator screamed.

”He could be one-on-one!”

The Wigan fans tucked into the far corner rose to their feet in disbelief while Lamptey reacted instantly, spinning around and launching himself into the chase.

His strides were quick and relentless, closing the gap as Ezra drove forward from just past the halfway line.

The rain glistened on the turf beneath them while Ezra pushed the ball ahead again, feeling Lamptey’s presence tightening behind him with every step.

His lungs burned, legs beginning to betray him, but the goal kept pulling him forward.

Jason Steele stepped off his line, and for a split second, thoughts of trying a chip invaded Ezra’s mind, but he cleared them, and he was right to clear them because a second later, Jason Steele stepped back again.

The Brighton keeper stood tall at the edge of his area, arms wide, reading the approach, and Ezra knew he didn’t have the strength left for a clean finish.

So he shifted slightly to the left, angling his run toward the space Lamptey had been trying to claim all along as they entered the box.

Lamptey, feeling like he could get the ball away, lunged again, desperate now, but Ezra moved the ball to his right leg in the next second, leaving his planted leg for Tariq Lamptey before letting himself fall after feeling the contact.

The world slowed as he hit the turf, sliding across the slick grass and for a heartbeat, there was only noise.

Then the whistle cut through everything.

Ezra lifted his head just in time to see the referee pointing toward the spot.

Penalty and the commentary erupted.

”Penalty for Wigan! Penalty for Wigan!” the commentator roared.

”Incredible scenes here at the Amex!”

The away section exploded in celebration as Wigan players sprinted toward Ezra, hauling him to his feet and engulfing him in white shirts.

Down on the sideline, Dawson punched both fists into the air, but the same couldn’t be said for the coach on the opposite touchline as De Zerbi shook his head slowly, hands on his hips as the decision sank in.

Brighton players crowded the referee immediately, arms waving, voices rising in protest.

”No chance!” one of them shouted. ”He went down on his own!”

But the official was unmoved.

He marched into the penalty area and waved everyone away, clearing the space with firm gestures until only two figures remained.

Fletcher.

Jason Steele.

The ball was placed carefully on the spot.

And a moment later, Fletcher stepped back, eyes fixed on the goal while Steele bounced lightly on his line, trying to fill the frame.

The stadium held its breath while up in the gantry, the commentator’s voice dropped into a tight whisper of anticipation.

”This... could change everything.”

The referee raised the whistle, piercing the air a second later as Fletcher began his run.

”FLETCHER FOR THE EQUALIZER?” the commentary questioned, and in the next second, with some otherworldly audacity, Fletcher chipped the ball, sending the Panenka the same way that Steele went, but the latter couldn’t even get a wisp of the ball as it rolled in the air into the back of the net.

”GOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLL! ASHLEEEEEY FLETCHERRRR!!!! THE AUDACITY. THE TIMING AND THE GULL. THIS IS WHAT WE LIVE FOR. WIGAN HAVE EQUALIZED!”

”THE GREATEST WEAKNESS LIES IN GIVING UP, BUT WIGAN HAVE BELIEVED UNTIL THE END, AND THEY HAVE BEEN REWARDED!”

On the touchline, Dawson was in the arms of Nolan as they continued celebrating the goal while Fletcher slid in front of the away fans, pumping his fists towards them and riling them up even more.