Harbinger Of Glory

"Leo Calderon gets there first..." the commentator shouted.

"...BUT HE’S DOWN!"

The clearance had barely crossed the edge of the area before Leo collapsed onto the turf clutching the side of his head, and the referee blew immediately.

Amos sprinted across the six-yard box, dropping to one knee beside his teammate as players from both sides slowed.

Before the referee could even say it, the medical team were already running.

On the giant screens, the replay never came.

Instead, the cameras stayed tight on Leo as the medics reached him.

One of them pulled his hand away from the wound, and instantly, blood covered his glove.

A murmur rolled through the stadium, mainly through the away stands, as the home crowd was eerily quiet.

.

Up in the stands, Mia stared at the screen.

"Oh my God..." she muttered and then looked beside her.

There Vittoria sat still.

Her hands rested tightly together in her lap, her face drained of colour as she watched the medics working around Leo.

Sofia quietly placed a hand on her arm as neither of them spoke.

Back on the pitch, the treatment continued.

And then after almost a minute on the ground, Leo finally sat up before slowly climbing to his feet.

Blood streaked down the side of his face despite the pressure the medics were applying.

And instinctively, the crowd began applauding as he began walking towards the touchline.

"Saved them from an almost certain goal," the commentary said, "and they are repaying in their applause!"

As Leo trekked towards the sidelines, he found Dawson already on his feet and waiting.

He watched Leo approach, then turned towards the bench.

"Max."

Max Power looked up immediately and got to his feet.

"Get warm," Dawson said, and before he could finish, Power was pulling off his tracksuit.

Leo reached the technical area while the medics guided him back onto the grass, but he waved them off by meeting Dawson’s gaze.

"I can carry on," he said before Dawson could even approach.

"It’s just bleeding."

The manager looked at him for a long second before exhaling heavily.

"Let’s see what they’ve got to say first."

He turned towards the medical staff.

"Patch him up properly."

The medics cleaned the wound before wrapping a thick white bandage around the side of Leo’s head.

Out on the pitch, play continued, and Leo kept his eyes on it despite being worked on, and he was glad that the extra man didn’t seem to help Burnley.

As the game went on, Leo glanced towards the fourth official as the latter stepped up to the sidelines, this time with his board in tow, and when it went up, it showed just one minute of extra time.

Seeing that, he couldn’t help but frown.

"One minute?" he muttered to himself and then looked back towards the pitch.

"I was down for longer than that."

A few seconds later, the referee beckoned him back onto the field and right on cue, the commentary followed him.

"Leo Calderon returns with that bandage around his head, which means he can carry on. Good news for Wigan."

He barely had time to settle before the whistle ended the half.

"So there it is, halftime," the commentary came through on the broadcast just as the players slowed to a stop and then began heading towards the sidelines and then eventually the tunnel.

"A time for managers to look at their tactics and see what went wrong or right, but at the moment, it’s still deadlocked here at the DW!"

Inside the dressing room, the medics gathered around Leo again, checking the bandage one final time while the players stripped off their shirts and reached for water bottles.

"The studs have grazed the side of his head," the lead medic said to Dawson as the latter stepped up to take a look.

"It looks like a flesh wound and at the moment, no signs of anything more serious."

Dawson nodded and then turned to look at Leo directly.

"You stay on."

Leo gave a small nod.

"But..."

The manager’s voice hardened.

"...the second I think you’re slowing down or you’re not yourself, you’re coming off. No arguments."

"Understood," Leo muttered as the medics stepped away, and almost immediately, Jake wandered over.

"How’s the head?"

Leo smiled.

"If I come off, are you playing defensive midfield?"

Jake looked offended.

"Why not?" he said, puffing out his chest.

"Have you forgotten my passing?"

At that, Leo stared at him, genuinely unable to remember Jake even attempting a long pass!

"Have you ever actually completed one?"

Jake opened his mouth, but nothing came out as those around laughed slightly.

Before Jake could recover, Dawson clapped his hands once and immediately glared at Leo before wandering back to his seat.

"They’ve done one thing very well," Dawson began.

"They’ve built their entire game around stopping us playing through Leo and Tiehi."

He pointed towards the tactics board.

"They’re not pressing the ball. They’re pressing the next pass," he motioned as every player watched.

"They’re willing to leave other spaces if it means shutting this one down."

He tapped the board again as if to add more emphasis.

"They’ve committed to it, and that means they are committed to him," he said while his finger landed on Leo’s magnet.

"They still believe everything starts here," he said again, while pointing at the magnetic cap representing Leo.

"Now we have no option but to exploit their tactics. For the next half, I want Leo isolated."

A few eyebrows lifted as he continued speaking.

"I want you to treat him like he’s wearing a Burnley shirt."

At that, the room looked even more confused as Dawson went on.

"Don’t give him the ball unless there’s absolutely no other option," he continued and then turned towards Leo.

"I still want you moving, showing up to space and demanding the ball."

"They’re terrified of what you can do," Dawson said and looked back at the squad.

"And so while they fixate on Leo, we show them what we can do without him. The more eyes they keep on Leo, the fewer they keep on the rest of you."

Understanding spread across the room as Nolan glanced at his watch.

"Two minutes," he leaned in and muttered towards Dawson, who nodded and took one final step forward.

"Outside that door are supporters who’ve waited decades to watch this club play football like this."

"A draw keeps us unbeaten, but it only puts us a point ahead. If we are going to the top, let’s do so in strong fashion. We’re not playing for one."

"Let’s go and take all three."

Before anyone could move, Darikwa slapped both hands together like he had been starting all the while.

"Come on!" he said as clapping spread around the room.

By the time Wigan walked into the tunnel, every player had joined in.

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