Harbinger Of Glory

Jonas glanced back across at Noah once more.

”Really?” he questioned once more as his assistant nodded.

”That’s interesting, because when we contacted Wigan, we went straight to the club. Nothing showed about a representative when I asked them to check for the people behind Leo.” He paused.

”If we’d known he was representing the boy, we would have gone to him first. Tried to get him to bring Leo around to the idea before it ever got to Wigan’s board. It would have been easier and more certain since I am sure Noah wouldn’t reject the idea of being the agent of a kid who played for United.”

His assistant nodded slowly. ”I don’t think Leo had signed with him yet by that point.”

Jonas considered that, then rose to his feet, straightening his jacket.

”Why don’t we say hi?” he said and started moving.

A few seats along, Noah had his eyes on the pitch, watching the groundstaff make their final checks on the turf below, when he heard a voice from somewhere behind his left shoulder.

”Who do you think is winning?”

He turned his head to see two figures, with one being the person who was being buttered up to the moment he entered the room a while ago.

...

It didn’t take long for the two sets of players to come out of the tunnel together, Wigan in blue, United in red, emerging into the Wembley evening as ninety thousand people found their feet.

”Let’s make it 14.”

”Let’s make it fourteeeeen”

”Manchester United, let’s make it 14.”

On the broadcast, the picture cut to an aerial shot of the stadium as the commentary came in over it.

”Good afternoon and welcome to Wembley Stadium. The FA Cup semi-final. Manchester United against Wigan Athletic, and whatever your feelings going into this one, you simply cannot argue with the occasion.”

”You really can’t,” the co-commentator agreed.

”And I think that’s worth saying before anything else, because there’s been a lot of talk this week about the gap between these two clubs, about what United are and what Wigan are, and all of that might be true. But you don’t get to a semi-final by accident. Both of these teams have beaten somebody to be here today.”

”Exactly right. You earn your place at Wembley, or you don’t come. Right, let’s talk about the game. United first, and you start with the history. Thirteen FA Cup wins. Only Arsenal have more with 14.

”This is a competition that sits close to this football club, and Ten Hag will know that winning it this season, given the way the league has gone and what happened in Europe on Thursday night against Sevilla, winning this would mean a great deal.”

”Three-nil in the Europa League, which still stings, I’m sure, and so yes, the cup takes on extra weight now. This is their season if they win it.”

”And the men who could put them in the final game of the competition start with De Gea in goal. The back four has Wan-Bissaka at right back, Lindelof and Luke Shaw as the two centre backs, and Dalot on the left and moving ahead of them is Casemiro sitting at the base of midfield with Eriksen beside him in the number eight role and Bruno Fernandes at ten. To finish this lineup is Rashford on the left, Antony on the right, and Martial leading the line.”

”That is a very strong setup,” the co-commentator judged.

”It might not be their best, but I am certain it could do the job since the worth of that starting eleven compared to what Wigan are putting out is, by some estimates, more than eight times over.”

The co-commentator let out a short laugh after that while the main commentator went on.

”And this is Wigan’s lineup. Ben Amos is in goal. They’ve gone with a back three of Whatmough, Charlie Hughes, and Tilt, who was genuinely doubtful coming into this week, so getting him out here is a boost for Dawson.”

”Continuing the setup are wing backs in Darikwa, the captain, on the right and Bennett on the left, who can come inside and give them a midfield four when they need it, as Max Power and Tiehi stay centrally.

On the left side of the attack is James McClean with Callum Lang on the right, and leading the line is Ashley Fletcher as the striker.”

”Fletcher, of course, came through Manchester United’s own academy. So there’s a footnote for you,”

the co-commentator interjected to offer his input.”There is. And speaking of United connections, Leo Calderon is on the bench for Wigan today. A name that was very much the story of this club’s season for a while, a seventeen-year-old who was running their midfield before the injury setback, and there’s been plenty of talk this week about whether he’s fully fit since he was supposed to be out for four months but was seen last time out against Bristol City when it’s only been just half the time he was supoosed to be out.”

”Still not confirmed either way,” the co-commentator said.

”The club hasn’t said anything officially. But he’s in the squad, and he’s at Wembley, so we’ll see what Dawson decides as the game goes on.”

Down on the pitch, the handshakes and the photographs and the coin toss had all been completed, and the players were peeling away into their respective shapes and finding their positions.

When it panned away from the players on the pitch, the cameras found Dawson on the touchline with his hands in his coat pockets, stuck in a conversation with Nolan as his eyes glossed over his men here and there.

Then it moved to Ten Hag a few yards further along, arms folded, saying something brief to one of his staff without taking his eyes off the pitch.

The referee gathered himself at the centre circle, looked to both sides, raised his whistle, and as ninety thousand people took one last breath, he blew it.

”90 minutes start now,” the commentators came in as Ashley Fletcher smashed the ball past the midfield to his keeper, who in turn sent it as long as it could into the opponent’s half.

”Sharp start by Wigan,” the commentator noted as Callum Lang and Dalot rose into the air for the ball, but a second later, Marcus Rashford was running daggers at Darikwa.

”Here’s Rashford.... Leaves it to Bruno and..... He shoooooots!!” the commentary bellowed.

The stadium rose in anticipation as the ball flew from the feet of the Manchester United skipper, and that shot was travelling.

It wormed its way like a sentient being through the bodies that were being hurled in its way.

Ben Amos, who hadn’t been expecting the shot from that far out, could only follow the ball with his eyes and not his body.

But as if the heavens had favoured him, the ball smashed against the post before bouncing right into his 6-yard box and reacting instantly, he pounced on it before Martial could get onto the end of the rebound.

”OOOOOHHHH, what a shot from Bruno. That was almost the first for Manchester United!”

The United crowd, still on their feet, could only let their hands in the air, drop to their heads and then their sides, as they began to settle down.

”This could be a very long night for Wigan,” the co-commentator said with a chuckle as Ben Amos finally got off the ground.