Harbinger Of Glory

3’ —

Like how it always was, Wigan came forward after kick-off immediately and with intent, looking to shrug off and offset the early goal that was sitting on their neck.

After stringing along a set of passes, Reyes couldn’t wait anymore.

The Portuguese midfielder took the ball and drove at the Spurs shape with the directness that had become his signature before finding Carlo on the left side of Wigan’s attack.

There, the winger took the ball in stride before going at it, not even slowing for a minute before he cut inside past Van de Ven and hit it.

The Spurs cavalry looked to block the effort, but it was futile as the ball streaked at the goal with a menacing tone, but at the last, it went by the post by a whisker as a groan emanated from the stands!

”OHHH, almost an instant response from Wigan,” the commentator said as Vicario got to his feet.

”Carlo with real intent and it has just gone the wrong side of the post.”

”They’re not lying down,” the co-commentator said. ”Which is exactly what you’d expect from this side.”

In the eighth minute, Spurs came again through the same channel that had led to their first goal, with Dejan Kulusevski receiving the ball wide right and crossing with the same intent as the first goal, looking to find Son making the same near-post run.

O’Shea read it this time, stepping across the line and controlling it despite the pressure of Richarlison behind him, and rather than clearing it, he thought, and the thought became action.

He slipped the ball to the edge of the box where Carlo had his back to the Spurs goal.

Carlo felt it arrive and touched it left, into the space behind him for O’Shea, who had kept his run going.

Bissouma recognised what was happening and moved to cut Carlo out of the attack before he could spin and join it right as the Wigan crowd got behind their men.

Ezra, hugging the touchline on the flanks, had already seen O’Shea’s run from across the pitch and had started moving.

He spun away from Udogie with sharp intent, already seeing the next pass before the move had fully developed.

”Shea!” he called, never once turning his head toward O’Shea as Udogie followed the shout instead of the ball.

It was all the invitation O’Shea needed.

The centre-back took one more touch before driving a long diagonal into the space that had just opened where Ezra was already breaking onto it.

”O’Shea forward, Ezra in behind,” the commentator said, the voice lifting as the ball came down.

By then Udogie was recovering, trying to get back to Ezra’s shoulder, but the latter held his left leg forward as it dropped and hooked it backwards in the same motion, the ball reversing direction as Udogie’s momentum carried him forward.

And with it, went his footing as he tumbled down on the turf.

When Udogie glanced up, Ezra was already moving inside with the space opening ahead of him.

”Ezra has done Udogie there,” the commentator said. ”Just waited for him to commit and sent him the wrong way completely.”

Bearing down on the Spurs goal, Ezra cut between two Spurs bodies and slipped it into Jake’s run, low and precisely for the striker.

The striker felt Van de Ven arriving at his shoulder and planted his standing foot using the strength he had to hold him there, and the moment he got an out, he smashed the ball.

”IT’S JAKEEEEEE!”

The stand behind the goal went before the ball arrived.

Vicario moved, but the shot was too low and too hard.

It went right through him, nestling into the back of the net, and when it did, the stadium that had gone silent a moment ago found its voice.

”GOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLLL”

”ONE ONE AND WIGAN HAVE RESPONDED AND JAKE WITH HIS FIFTH PREMIER LEAGUE GOAL AND WHAT A COMBINATION THAT WAS.”

Jake, who had tumbled down after scoring, rose to his feet and pointed at Ezra immediately, who pointed back as the two met somewhere between the post and the penalty spot, the DW fully gone behind him.

”O’Shea and Carlo starting it in their own box,” the co-commentator said, over the noise.

”Finding a way out of the press and then Ezra’s movement, that hook backwards to lose Udogie, and then the pass for Jake. Clinical from front to back.”

As the commentary went on, the broadcast camera found Dawson on the touchline.

He had an expression on his face that was not quite satisfaction and was not quite amusement but was somewhere between the two.

He turned and said something to Nolan, who turned and looked at the pitch and nodded.

Whatever they were thinking was confirmed a moment later when the referee’s hand went to his ear.

The Wigan players had begun making their way toward their half when they noticed the referee stopping, his hand at his ear, and the commentary caught it before most of the players had.

”Hold on here. It seems we have something here as the referee has paused,” the commentator said.

”And I think we’re going to VAR.”

The players looked at each other and then at the fourth official and then at the referee, who was already moving toward the pitchside monitor.

While that happened, the DW, or the home fans, produced a sound that showed their discomfort with what was happening.

The referee stood at the monitor for what felt considerably longer than the time it actually took, and then he stepped back onto the pitch and his arm came up.

Offside.

The signal was clear, and the commentary caught it as the decision carried on the large stadium screams.

”There it is,” the commentator said, and the two words carried everything, the inevitability of it, the sympathy for it and the acknowledgement that the technology had found something the human officials had missed.

”Ezra is adjudged to have been offside in the buildup,” the co-commentator said.

”And it is a fine margin. These are always difficult to accept, but the system is consistent, at least most of the time. The line is the line.”

A wave of frustration swept around the DW before dissolving into disappointed groans.

Jake stopped with both hands resting on the back of his head, staring at the referee for a long second before letting out a breath.

He looked across the pitch, shook his head once and turned away, shrugging to the back of his mind the goal that wouldn’t stand.