Harbinger Of Glory

A few seats further forward, Nolan glanced sideways.

Dawson hadn’t spoken since they’d left Goodison.

The assistant manager studied him for a moment before breaking the silence.

"You’ve looked miserable ever since we got on the bus."

Dawson let out a quiet breath.

"I was hoping City would win."

"That’s not something I expected to hear," Nolan said before looking at Dawson, wanting a reason.

"It would’ve kept everyone looking at them instead of us."

He rubbed a hand across his jaw before looking down the aisle, where most of the squad were either asleep or quietly talking among themselves.

"Right now, people still think this is a good run. When we beat Burnley on Tuesday, suddenly it isn’t a good run anymore. We’d go top."

Dawson looked back through the windscreen, the motorway lights beginning to flicker on in the distance.

"Being near the top is one thing. Sitting at the top..." He shook his head.

"That’s when every opponent starts treating you like some Jenga that they need to topple. Every headline changes and so does the narrative around the club."

Nolan leaned back in his seat.

"So we deal with it."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Dawson’s mouth.

"We’ll have to, but I was hoping we could keep cover a bit longer."

Nolan looked ahead after that, leaving Dawson to his devices while the bus carried on through the evening.

>>>

Just as expected, the articles came the following morning from every direction.

Manchester City And Liverpool Both Lose On The Same Day — And Wigan Are The Beneficiaries

Can Wigan Actually Win The Premier League? It Might Be Too Soon To Ask. It Might Not Be.

The Fairy Tale That Refuses To End: Wigan’s Remarkable Start To Life In The Top Flight

By the time the pieces had finished circulating, the reactions broke along familiar lines.

Neutrals mostly embraced it.

There was something irresistible about watching a newly promoted club refuse to behave like one, upsetting expectations every weekend and making the league table look stranger with each passing match.

The clubs around them were less enthusiastic.

Supporters who had laughed at Wigan in August now found themselves studying the table a little longer than they wanted to.

Some admitted they had been wrong, but others refused to.

The Wigan supporters, though, were on another cloud.

One old fan after the game had even said he’d be okay if he died right now just because of how well Wigan were playing.

That morning, the good light of joy spilt across the floor of Mike Danson’s office at GlobalData, catching the edge of the papers his assistant had laid out before he’d arrived.

Match reports, performance summaries, financial projections, rising stocks and sitting neatly on top of them all, the Premier League table.

Danson picked that one up first as his eyes drifted from the top down.

Pos Club MP Pts

1 Manchester City. 7 18

2 Wigan Athletic 6 18

3 Tottenham. 7 17

4 Arsenal 7 17

5 Liverpool 7 16

6 Aston Villa 7 15

7 Brighton Albion 7 15

8 West Ham 7 13

9 Newcastle United 7 12

10 Crystal Palace 7 11

His eyes dropped a little further to take in the remainder of the table.

11. Manchester United - 9 pts

12. Chelsea - 8 pts

13.......

He lingered there for a second before looking back to the top, to his club.

Danson read the table again, then leaned back in his chair as a slow smile crossed his face.

"And I haven’t even started spending properly," he said with a smile as his assistant also smiled faintly.

Danson placed the table on top of the reports.

"Walk me through it again."

At that, the assistant nodded.

"The structure hasn’t changed since we took over. If anything, it’s become stricter."

He opened another folder.

"Dawson is a Coach who doesn’t know how to build around reputations. He builds around roles."

"That’s why he can leave experienced players out without causing problems?"

"Exactly."

After that, the assistant turned a page.

"He doesn’t manage egos because he refuses to indulge them. If you’re playing well, you stay in the team."

"If you’re not, someone else gets the shirt."

Danson listened without interrupting.

"Eight players from the current squad came through while he was part of the coaching staff here," the assistant continued.

"He already knew what they could become before most people thought they were first-team players."

He pointed to another page.

"Leo Calderon is the obvious success story, but he is more of someone Dawson brought on board after developing personally with a more hands-on approach as opposed to some of the names on the list."

"But he isn’t the only one."

"Ezra only turned twenty last month, and he’s already producing numbers that compare favourably with some of the league’s best wide players."

"Jake has gone from a U21 Championship side striker to someone Premier League defences actually have to plan for."

"If they beat Burnley..., They’ll go top, and that is the translation of the good job that Dawson has been doing at the club."

The assistant ended after that, and for a while, silence settled over the office for a moment.

Finally, Danson nodded once.

"That is good. Let’s not interfere too much and give Dawson what he asks for."

The assistant smiled.

"I was hoping you’d say that."

Danson reached for his phone before stopping halfway and then looking at his assistant.

"Get Dawson on the line."

The assistant turned toward the door with a nod before being stopped by Danson again.

"And after that..."

Danson tapped Leo Calderon’s name on one of the reports.

"...get me Leo’s agent."

.....

Away from London, the media had arrived at the Wigan complex before Leo had.

He noticed as he turned into the complex.

There were people with lanyards and recorders spread across the area outside the entrance, cameras set up, a few already in conversation with someone from the club’s media team.

Two of them took pictures of his car as he pulled in, but that was all.

His car wasn’t that noticeable with the media; otherwise, they would have probably jumped him, with how extreme the media got sometimes.

"Thank God it’s blacked out," Leo said as a small laugh came from his left.

Vittoria was in the passenger seat looking all happy.

"Can you imagine the headlines," she said, "if they found us together."

Leo pulled into a space and cut the engine.

"You’d enjoy that," he said as she considered it.

"My family maybe not so much," she said as Leo shook his head.

"I’ll be in and out," he said. "I did most of what the rest are doing last night after the game, so I won’t be long."

Vittoria nodded and turned her cheek toward him.

Leo smiled and leaned across and planted a kiss on her cheek, but then she turned her forehead toward him expectantly.

He looked at her.

Then he took her face in both hands and kissed her properly instead.

She accepted this as a reasonable substitution as he got out of the car and headed toward the entrance.

While she watched her boyfriend go, Vittoria’s phone rang.

She looked at the screen and immediately felt tired, just seeing the name.

"Hello, Aunt," she said right after picking up.

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