Harbinger Of Glory

Leo pulled his shirt over his head, and for a second the fabric covered his entire view.

The smell of new fabric washed over his senses as he tugged it down from his face and looked around.

The dressing room had changed in the few minutes since he’d started getting ready.

Wigan shirts were everywhere now, with players pulling their socks up, fastening boots and making the final adjustments to their kits.

Then Leo found a face that had been missing in the team for a while.

Ashley Fletcher sat on one of the benches, still in one of the warm-up kits.

He had been out since he got injured in August and had only just been recently cleared to play.

Feeling the gaze on him, Fletcher looked up and found Leo still staring!

"The number eight really suits you," he said, which made Leo glance at the mirror behind him.

"Yeah, I guess it does," he said as he stopped straining to see the jersey before turning towards Fletcher.

"Thanks."

"I don’t know if it’s the injury, but you seem to have matured a bit. Like you’ve gone through character development."

Fletcher raised an eyebrow and then smiled.

"I have always been mature and cool-headed, though," he said with a little chuckle, but from the other side of the room, Jake laughed.

"You?" he said, and Fletcher immediately turned towards him!

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"It didn’t sound like nothing."

Jake shrugged, sticking his forelimbs out while imitating a jab.

"I just didn’t know injuries came with personality development."

Fletcher stood and then pointed towards Jake.

"At least I wasn’t annoyed or complaining about someone starting ahead of me."

Jake turned around, the words seemingly landing as he also stretched an arm towards Ashley Fletcher!

"You’re only injured because you can’t stay on the pitch."

"And you’re only starting because I’m injured."

Jake’s smile disappeared, eyes immediately suggesting that he was searching for something in his mind, and it lit up as soon as he found that thing!

"At least, I’ve scored more than you this season."

"Because I was out injured, dummy."

Leo shook his head, watching the two bicker and then looked more at Fletcher!

"Yeah. Never mind. You’ve definitely matured."

"Thank you," Fletcher said, pointing at Leo.

"See? He gets it," he said, turning towards Jake, who only shook his head.

"It’s called sarcasm, you wanker," he muttered under his breath right as the dressing room door opened, with Dawson immediately walking in.

He took one look at Jake and Fletcher, who were still eyeing each other and then sighed!

"Good. I’m glad you two missed each other."

The room laughed as Jake and Fletcher looked at each other and then looked away instantly.

"Just remember we’ve got a match to play."

He looked around.

"Although I’m impressed. Even Reyes has been quiet."

At that, several heads turned toward the far side of the room where, amidst all the past bickering, Reyes sat in front of a mirror, staring at his reflection.

Oblivious to the gazes on him, he adjusted his hair.

"Who’s that hunk?" he said, pointing towards his reflection in the mirror, and immediately, the room erupted.

"What?" he asked as the players continued laughing.

Leo also laughed and looked away while Dawson, whose words had caused this, shook his head.

"Right. Forget what I said."

He waited for the laughter to settle and then nodded!

"I’m glad the spirits are good. Let’s keep that with us as we head into this fixture!"

His voice became more serious as the players nodded and he went on!

"You know what you’ve trained. You know what we’ve worked on this week, so just do your best to trust the game plan."

He looked from one player to the next.

"And trust each other."

"Look at where you are. Before this season started, nobody outside this room expected us to be heading into a fixture like this as the favourites, but that is what it is at this point!"

He paused.

"Most teams would have been happy with half of what you’ve already done, but since we’ve already kicked something bigger than ourselves, let’s just keep on."

Darikwa, standing behind his mates, nodded as Dawson went on!

"Don’t make this bigger than it needs to be. Stay calm. Play your football, and if we do that, we’ll give ourselves a chance, as it always happens."

After that, he stepped back and then nodded once towards the starters and the substitutes alike.

"Alright. Let’s go," he said, and immediately, the players began moving.

The sounds of studs smacking disorderly against the floor became prominent as they filed toward the door, and out of it, with the noise of the stadium becoming clearer as they approached the tunnel.

"I think the number ten might be better fitting, or 22," Ezra said as he passed by Leo, bringing the latter back to the conversation that had been going on in the locker room a while ago.

They reached the tunnel just as the conversation was swallowed by the noise ahead, and ahead of them, the red devils were already present!

Some players stood in their positions in the line while others stood idly, leaned against the walls, speaking quietly as they waited.

The Wigan players joined them, taking their places along the opposite side.

As he took his place in the line, Leo looked ahead and saw Rashford once more.

Their eyes met again, and once again, Rashford gave him a small nod, one that Leo returned.

A few seconds later, the match officials appeared from the dressing-room area, and Referee Michael Oliver led the way, with his two assistants following behind.

The players straightened instantly as the mascots gathered beside the Manchester United players, while the Wigan side stood in their own line.

Oliver checked both sides before giving the signal, his own mascot grabbing the ball as the procession began.

A few steps later, they stepped out into the stadium where animatedly, the Old Trafford showed their excitement towards the fixture, towards the fixture, clamouring in the stands.

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