Harbinger Of Glory

Leo came out of the stands with his statsports vest being the only thing covering his chest.

The crowd finally released him after what felt considerably longer than it probably was.

Once he got over the railing separating the stands and the pitch, he turned back to them one last time and raised both arms.

Seeing that, the DW answered with another wave of noise that rolled around the ground and came back off the opposite stand.

He turned and walked back onto the pitch and found his shirt on the ground where he’d left it, picking it up and pulling it back over his head just as the match official appeared directly in his path.

Leo looked at him with a smile on his face as he approached the referee.

Right as he got near enough, the official reached into his pockets and grabbed the yellow card from it before showing it to Leo.

Leo smiled, took it without a word and kept walking while the referee moved away to organise the restart.

The Wolverhampton players gathered the ball and set it at the centre circle, but there was just no life in them.

”Yellow card for the shirt removal,” the commentator said. ”And he takes it as well as you’d expect from him. A minute and a half left with Wigan leading three-two. Is there one more twist in this game?”

”I doubt it,” the co-commentary came through, ”but I guess football is sometimes the most unpredictable thing you’ll ever come across in life.”

The DW had no interest in being quiet for the remaining time.

The chants went on continuously as Wolves kicked off and tried to find something with the desperation

Wigan, on the other hand, didn’t act like a team in the lead.

If anything, it felt like they were hungrier than Wolves for another goal.

They pressed incessantly, and with no option, the away side began resulting in quick touches and long balls.

Lemina tried to find Fabio Silva with one such long but got the weight wrong.

The ball fell short, and sweeping to clear it was Whatmough who chested it down and found Leo in one movement.

Leo laid the ball back to Tiehi, and immediately, the DW sensed another opening, the noise rising with every stride the midfielder took into space.

”Wigan coming again...” the commentator said as Tiehi waited just long enough to draw a challenge before slipping it straight back into Leo’s path.

Leo never broke stride.

Lemina stepped across to meet him, hoping to make up for the loose pass that had started it all, but he never got close.

Leo knocked the ball beyond him with his first touch and drifted past on the other side before the midfielder had even managed to turn.

Tommy Doyle was next with fresh legs and fresh ideas, but neither mattered.

He lunged in, only to find himself chasing empty grass as Leo glided beyond him with another touch.

The Wolves midfield had disappeared in two movements, and the obvious pass was waiting on the right as Ezra dashed right into space.

Seeing Leo’s gaze and form, the Wolverhampton players were certain that he was surely going to send the ball there, but using that thought against them, Leo ignored that run.

Instead, he slipped the ball inside to Carlo on the left as the Wolverhampton setup leaned towards their left or Wigan’s right flank.

”Still Wigan... Leo with the ball in!”

Carlo had space and time.

He opened his body, took one touch across the face of goal and, seeing the space, let fly from twenty-five yards.

”CARLO HITS IT!”

The strike flew through a forest of legs, dipping viciously as it arrowed toward the top corner.

Standing astutely in goal, José Sá sprang across his goal at full stretch.

A strong right hand met it as the ball flew over the crossbar, the keeper refusing to be beaten once more.

The Wolves supporters behind the goal released the breath they’d been holding almost in unison.

”What a save!” the commentator exclaimed.

”That was heading in all day long if José Sá doesn’t get there. Wigan are pouring forward now, and Wolves are hanging on.”

While the Portuguese shot stopper got to his feet, he found the noise in the crowd going up a notch.

His eyes searched and found Leo rallying the crowd further as he moved towards the corner flag.

He set the ball down and touched it short to Reyes, who came to receive it and took it left, skipping past one challenge and then another on his way to the edge of the box.

It felt like the effort was coming, but he slipped the ball back to Leo, who’d just entered the box.

A simple pass wouldn’t really have sufficed with all the bodies, so Leo slipped the toe section of his boot under the ball and lifted it deep into the thick of things.

There, Whatmough climbed without end.

The Wigan fans got onto the edge of their seats as their skipper rose enough and got his head to it.

He had the power, rising above his man, but the direction went slightly wrong, the ball curling away from goal and past the post rather than toward it as a sigh of relief flew around the away side for the umpteenth time that game.

”Almost a fourth,” the commentary came in as Whatmough landed and shook his head before he began turning back towards his half.

”Whatmough so close to finishing it emphatically.”

”This Wigan side play so well and without fear. They almost made it a fourth and that would have been Leo’s second of the game. How does he keep coming clutch in these moments?”

Having escaped by the skin of thei teeth, Jose Sa gathered the ball and set it quickly for the goal kick lookign to start something once more but the moment he it left his foot, the shrill whistle of the match official invaded the pitch, ending the game finally.

When it did, the sound that escaped the stands was insurmountable.

It crashed into the players on the pitch like an avalanche, the feeling welling in their chest around the ground in waves that didn’t seem to want to stop.

The Wolverhampton players stood where they were, some with their hands on their knees, some looking at the scoreboard, but most wearing a difficult expression after having been so confident about their win at one point, but they hadn’t even managed to salvage a point at the end of the final whistle.

The broadcast cameras lingered on the away players before sweeping across to the sea of blue celebrating behind the goal, then finally settling on the Wigan players gathering near the centre circle.

”Five wins from five,” the commentator said as the Wigan players celebrated slightly.

”Five Premier League games played. Five won. Fifteen points. And the first time in Wigan Athletic’s history they have won their opening five top-flight games. The first time. In their history.”

”And the way they’ve done it,” the co-commentator said.

”It hasn’t been comfortable. Tonight wasn’t comfortable. They were two-nil down and found three. That’s not a run of form. That’s character.”

While the commentary went on on the broadcast, the stadium announcer’s voice came through the speakers.

”Your man of the match...”

The pause before the name was barely a pause at all.

”Leo Calderon!!!!!!”

Hearing that, the DW responded resoundingly as Leo turned toward the sound of it and applauded back, his hands going together in front of him.

The cameras found his face, and the commentary came with them.

”So often,” the commentator said, ”these awards become predictable.”

”This one doesn’t,” he continued with a smile in his voice.

”It feels deserved every single week.”

”That’s now 4 Man of the Match awards in his 5 Premier League appearances and 5 in 6 games this season.”

”And the remarkable thing...”

”...he only turned eighteen a few months ago.”

”He’s the heartbeat of this Wigan side,” the co-commentator said.

”Everyone contributes, and they’re an outstanding team, but everything seems to flow through him.”

The main commentator nodded.

”And perhaps the biggest indication of what he already means to this football club...”

”...came long before that winning goal.”

The replay changed into the scene when Leo was lying on the turf after assisting Jake’s goal, as well as the anxious silence that had filled the stadium that time.

”The entire stadium stopped when it happened,” the co-commentator came in,” and just in that moment, they weren’t thinking about the score.”

”They were thinking about him.”

The camera returned to Leo as he disappeared down the tunnel beside his teammates.

”And when you remember...” the commentary came in again, ”...that there was a point not so long ago when it looked as though Leo Calderon might never become a professional footballer at all...”

”...it makes this rise feel even more extraordinary.”