Harbinger Of Glory

From the stands, a roar exploded and, for the first time in more than half an hour, the noise sounded like Wigan again and not just the Brentford fans looking to win the game.

”Brentford have to be careful here!” the co-commentator added quickly.

”They’ve had the numerical advantage, they’ve been pressing for the winner, but they’ve suddenly allowed Wigan to remind them exactly what they can do.”

Right on the edge of the box, Ezra stood with both hands on his head, and his expression certainly told that he could not believe it had not gone in.

Ahead of him, Brentford’s defenders rushed toward Flekken, roaring in appreciation of their goalkeeper keeping them in the game.

One patted him on the back, and another raised both hands as the goalkeeper pushed himself back onto his feet, knowing that the effort had been close.

Very close.

Leo, meanwhile, had already jogged toward the corner flag.

The Wigan players began gathering inside the penalty area, and all around them lingered the Brentford players whose goal was now under threat from the corner.

Bodies were being marked, and instructions were being shouted as everyone stood expecting the same thing.

Leo placed the ball down and glanced into the box, and then, without warning, he called out.

The piercing sound cut through the DW rumble for a bit, and Ezra reacted immediately.

He broke away from the crowd and sprinted toward the corner where Leo played the ball short.

Ezra reached it, and as he took the ball and faced the box, Leo was already running beyond him.

The Brentford players, caught off guard by the quick corner, rushed toward Ezra, looking to take the ball from him as the defensive line began stepping forward.

They closed in on Ezra, forgetting that Leo was just standing a few metres away, so Ezra just turned and laid the ball off to Leo, who took the ball from Ezra and instantly opened his body.

It looked like he was about to cross, and seeing that, the Brentford line moved, just slightly, trying to catch Wigan offside.

It would have worked had the ball come in, but Leo hadn’t played the ball into the box, and that made the entire line disrupt, causing a few players to be stepping out way before others, and that was enough.

Leo took another touch, and then right as a Brentford player reached him, he curled the ball into the penalty area.

”IS IT IN?” the main commentator roared urgently as the ball spun deftly in the air and then towards the far post, but just as it looked like it would go out, Reyes appeared from behind and attacked it.

He rose above the bodies around him and got his head to the ball, sending the effort spiralling towards goal, but then at the last second, it decided to smash against the post.

The stadium groaned, sighs and gasps filling the grounds as the commentary came in.

”OFF THE POST!” but the commentator’s voice was swallowed by the chaos as the ball bounced away.

Then everything changed.

Brentford cleared, and suddenly they were running.

”Brentford can break here! Wigan were attacking, but now they might have to defend here!”

The entire picture reversed in seconds as Mbeumo collected the ball and drove forward.

Leo turned immediately and so did everyone else.

The counterattack was on.

Mbeumo ran at Tiehi, and behind him, the rest of the Wigan players scrambled back while more of the Brentford players joined the attack.

Tiehi tried to hold his ground, but all Mbeumo had to do to get past him was slide the ball across him toward a teammate running beyond.

The return pass came instantly after Tiehi lunged and failed, and Mbeumo was through again.

Leo’s legs pumped and chased.

He stretched himself, trying to close the gap, but he knew he wouldn’t get there in time.

For one moment, it felt as though the entire match had opened in front of Brentford.

All that was needed was one good pass, one clean finish, and Wigan’s run would end, and it looked like that was exactly what was about to unfold when Mbuemo glanced up and knocked the ball further forward.

Then when all hope seemed almost lost, Leo felt Carlo blitz past him with some terrifying pace.

One second, Carlo was several yards behind, and in the next, he was gaining.

Then level.

Then ahead.

Carlo took two more strides before reaching Mbeumo and, without waiting for Mbeumo to react, he pulled him down.

”Crucial tackle. That is a save of the highest order,” the commentary came in as the referee blew his whistle.

Mbeumo sat on the ground, much more annoyed than he’d been previously, while Carlo remained bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath as Leo jogged toward him.

The referee also arrived, and when he reached into his pocket, the red card came out.

For the second time that afternoon, the DW reacted in disbelief.

Carlo barely looked at the referee as he already knew what he’d done.

Leo reached him first, grabbed Carlo by the arm and pulled him upright.

Then he gave him a firm pat on the back.

Carlo nodded once, and that was all that needed to be conveyed.

He had stopped the attack, and that was all that mattered.

Carlo turned and began walking toward the tunnel, and Leo watched him go before looking back toward the pitch.

The commentator took a breath and then came in again.

”And now Wigan are down to nine.”

The reality of it hung over the stadium as the clock continued moving.

”Six of the seven added minutes have now been played,” he continued.

”One minute left, and Wigan have somehow gone from being under relentless pressure to producing two huge opportunities of their own.”

His co-commentator shook his head.

”A few minutes ago, you would have said they were hanging on for their lives. Now, after what we’ve just seen, you almost wonder whether they’re still trying to win this.”

”But now it’s much worse for them. Hopefully they can hang on for the remaining minute!” the main commentator said as the camera found Leo, who stood several yards away from the ball, looking at the free kick they had to defend.

He gathered his thoughts just as the referee raised his whistle to his mouth and blew!