Harbinger Of Glory

When the players made it back to their locker rooms, the mood was infectious to say the least.

Conversations overlapped from every corner as shirts were tossed around in an attempt to get them to fall into the kit bin the kit manager had set in the middle of the room.

"I’ll admit it," Max Power said, dropping onto the bench beside his locker.

"At two-nil I thought we’d left ourselves too much to do."

"So did I," Whatmough replied. "It had one of those afternoons written all over it."

Tiehi nodded.

"I wasn’t worried we’d stop creating chances. I was worried we’d run out of time, but thankfully we didn’t."

Jake looked up from where he was wrestling one boot off.

"That’s because none of you had me."

At that, several heads turned towards him.

Ezra frowned.

"Excuse me?"

Jake spread his hands.

I brought the momentum. I came on and started the comeback. You’re welcome, by the way."

When he was done speaking, a rolled-up sock bounced off his shoulder.

"What was that for?"

"How the hell is this about you when Nolan made more contributions to this game than you did!"

"I scored a goal!"

"Well, Nolan kept Dawson from getting a red card," Ezra retorted as a fit of laughter rolled through the room.

Another sock landed in Jake’s lap, who sighed dramatically before tossing it back across the room.

"You people have no respect."

"None," Darikwa said sarcastically before also hurling his pants onto the head of Leo with deadly accuracy.

By the time Leo let himself into the apartment that evening, the smell of dinner reached him before he even had the door fully open.

Sofia, who’d come over, stood at the cooker, stirring something with Mia curled up on the sofa while Vittoria was halfway between the kitchen and the living room, helping herself to food she hadn’t really helped cook.

Sofia turned first and smiled just as she heard the door shut.

"Congratulations."

"You deserved today," she said as Vittoria crossed the room and hugged Leo.

"Thanks," he muttered while running his hands through the hair of his girlfriend.

While he did, so Mia looked over.

"So..."

"...how do you concede two goals at home in one half?"

"Good evening to you too," Leo said as Mia wrinkled her nose a bit like she had smelled something she didn’t like.

"It’s bad enough that you’ve made me switch teams, but now you also want to throw games away."

"You didn’t even like football," Leo said, before stopping, realising he was getting annoyed.

"We won. Think what you like."

"Barely," Mia said a second later, but Leo didn’t let her add on to it.

He grabbed a cloth on the rack beside his door and hurled it at Mia’s head.

"Mia," Sofia said the moment Mia grabbed the pillow, trying to return the favour.

"But you let him throw it," Mia said, acting like she had a knife inserted in her gut.

Sofia didn’t pay her any mind, though and just continued cooking.

A moment later, she insisted Leo wash up before sitting down, and by the time everyone finally gathered around the table, the conversation had drifted from football to school stories and back again three separate times.

At some point, Sofia quietly refilled both Leo’s and Mia’s plates without asking, and neither of them objected in the slightest.

Later that evening Leo drove Sofia and Mia home before pulling away from the curb and glancing across at Vittoria.

"Ice cream?"

She looked at him as though it were a ridiculous question.

"When have I ever said no?"

Leo smiled at that response as the duo picked some up and spent another half hour driving through the city without really deciding where they were going.

Eventually Leo looked across at Vittoria, who looked like she could use a bed and then simply turned the car around, getting on the route back to their apartment.

Two days later, Jake came through the locker room door like a man arriving with important news.

"It’s that time of the year," he said with a grin, but nobody really paid him any mind.

The players already in the room continued what they were doing except for Leo, who was changing into his slides and looked up, indulging the former.

"Did you get it?"

"I bought it this morning," Jake said, dropping onto the bench beside him.

"But I haven’t been able to play it yet because I still have to download it," he said while shaking his head.

"EA Sports should have seen my start to the season. The things I’ve done. And I have to wait for a download. I really can’t wait to see my rating!"

"Jake."

"What’s my rating though? That’s what I need to know. And Carlo’s already been in the game from the last one, so his will be easy. And Leo’s been added mid-season before so—"

"Jake."

"What was your rating last time?" Jake said, turning to Leo, who was smiling like his last.

"Sixty-nine. Around that," he answered while glancing behind Jake slightly.

Jake considered this seriously.

"So definitely higher now."

"Probably," Leo said, struggling to keep himself from laughing.

Before Jake could speak again, a hand gripped his shoulder.

"I wonder what my rating is as a manager," Dawson said as Jake turned to look at his face.

"Coach," he said and stopped talking.

Afterwards, he became very interested in tying his laces as the preparations for the training session proceeded without any further discussion about EA FC ratings.

With an EFL Cup competition in two days, the day’s load was light, with Dawson focusing more on tactical and analytical work with his men in the video room than on too much physical work on the pitch.

"We have Exeter next, and although a cup game is as unpredictable as it gets, I will be resting some of the starters, so for those looking to break into their starting 11, this is your chance to impress!"

He didn’t need to say it, as most of the bench players had this in their thoughts, but it was reassuring for them that their manager had mentioned it, so much so that the mood in the room turned more focused as they continued their work.

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