Reincarnated As A Wonderkid Chapter 345: Sunderland

Leon’s mind was a ’static-filled-void’. He had ’no-thoughts’. He had ’only-vibrations’.

He opened his mouth. He closed it.

He did the only ’human-thing’ he could. He let out a ’short, sharp, panicked-laugh’.

"Wow," he ’gasped’, his voice ’a-full-octave-higher’ than usual.

"Wow. Sunderland. That’s... that’s ’massive’, isn’t it?"

He ’gestured-vaguely’ to his ’buzzing-pocket’. "Sorry," he said, ’looking-at-the-host’. "My phone... I think my ’team’... my ’players’... I think they just ’found-out’."

The host ’grinned’. This was ’gold’. This was ’magic-of-the-cup-live-on-air’.

"They’re... they’re an ’incredible-bunch’," Leon ’stamred’, the ’panic-fading’, the ’pride-taking-over’. "We’ve got a ’baker’. We’ve got a ’Badger’... well, he ’works-in-a-call-centre’... ’The Mountain’... he’s a ’student’..."

He ’shook-his-head’, a ’real-smile’ finally ’breaking-through’. "A trip to Sunderland. For them... for the ’whole-town-of-Kirkby’... it’s... yeah, it’s ’everything’." He ’laughed-again’, ’relaxing-into-the-mont’. "I just hope Dave the baker doesn’t get ’too-star-struck’. We ’need-him’ for the ’pre-match-scones’."

The ’scones-joke’ ’landed’. The ’studio-audience’ laughed. Sir David Rooney ’chuckled’ and ’patted-him-on-the-back’. "Good lad. That’s what it’s ’all-about’."

Leon ’survived’. He ’smiled’, he ’shook-hands’, he ’didn’t-swear’, and he ’didn’t-faint’.

The ’second’ he was ’off-air’, he ’ripped-his-phone’ from his ’pocket’. It was ’glowing-hot’. 14 ’missed-calls’. 38 ’ssages’.

He ’clicked-on-Marco’s-na’ first. A ’voicemail’. He ’didn’t-even-need-to-listen’. He just ’opened-the-group-chat’.

[Marco the Agent]: "LEEEEEEOOOOOOO! A ’GIANT-KILLING-PAYDAY’! A ’DAVID-vs-GOLIATH-CUP-TIE’! THE ’STADIUM-OF-LIGHT’! THE ’TV-MONEY’! THE ’TICKET-REVENUE’! WE ARE ’RICH’! (Well, ’less-poor’!). I’M ’SO-HAPPY’ I ’COULD-KISS-A-LAWYER’!"

[Biyon G.]: "A ’COLOSSEUM’! A ’TRUE-TEST-OF-THE-AVALANCHE’! A ’50,000-SEATER-CAULDRON-OF-HOPE-AND-DREAMS’!"

[Biyon G.]: "Wait. It is... ’AWAY’??"

[Biyon G.]: "IT ’DOES-NOT-MATTER’! THEIR ’PITCH’ IS ’TOO-EXPENSIVE’! IT IS ’TOO-FLAT’! OUR ’MUDDY-CHAOS-PHILOSOPHY’ WILL ’CONFUSE-THEIR-BEAUTIFUL-GRASS’! WE WILL ’BURY-THEM’!"

[Julián Álvarez]: "COMPADRES! A ’QUEST’! A ’PILGRIMAGE-TO-THE-NORTH’! YOU WILL ’FACE-THE-GIANT’! I AM ’SO-PROUD’! I AM ’WATCHING-THEIR-LAST-THREE-MATCHES’! THEY ’CONCEDE-FROM-CROSSES’, LEO! THEIR ’LEFT-BACK’ IS ’SLOW’! I ’LOVE-THIS-GA’!"

Leon was ’laughing-out-loud’, ’walking-through-the-shiny-BBC-corridor’ in his ’super-suit’. He felt ’invincible’.

Then, he ’saw-the-last-two-ssages’.

[Sofia]: "You looked SO handso! That suit! Sunderland! WOW! We were all ’screaming-at-the-TV’! So proud of you! Don’t forget to ’pick-up-milk’ on the way ho (the ’fancy-oat-kind’?). Love you!"

Leon ’smiled’. ’Milk’. ’Reality’.

And ’one-more’.

Leon ’snorted’. ’Predictable’. Of ’course’ he’d ’say-that’. ’Biggest-draw-of-the-round’. ’Predictable’.

Leon ’returned-to-Kirkby’ that night, ’milk-in-hand’, feeling like a ’conquering-hero’.

The ’FA-Cup-draw’ was a ’dream’. A ’holiday’. A ’bonus’.

The ’league’... the ’league’ was the ’job’.

He ’walked-into-the-war-room’ on Monday. The ’mood’ was... ’different’. The ’-9’ on the ’whiteboard’ was ’still-there’ (Leon had ’updated-it-to-a-6’ after the ’Blyth-win’), but it was ’no-longer-the-focus’.

Biyon had ’drawn’ a ’giant, terrifying, red-and-white-striped-monster’ on the ’other-side-of-the-board’. Underneath, he had ’written’: "OPERATION: ’MAKE-THE-GIANT-TRIP-OVER-THE-BAKER’."

"Leo!" Biyon ’cheered’, ’wheeling-over-in-his-golf-cart’. "The ’plans’! I have ’so-many-plans’! We ’hit-them-on-the-counter’! We ’play-the-Badger-as-a-false-nine’! We ’confuse-them’ with ’pure, unadulterated-love’!"

"Biyon," Leon said, ’putting-down-his-coffee’.

Walter Samuel ’cleared-his-throat’. It was ’the-loudest-sound-Leon-had-ever-heard-him-make’.

"The ’cup’... is in ’three-weeks’," Walter ’rumbled’, his ’voice-like-gravel-on-a-cold-morning’.

Leon ’nodded’, ’grateful-for-the-ice-man’. "Walter’s right."

Walter ’pointed-a-thick-finger’ at the ’league-schedule’. "Tomorrow," he said, ’tapping-the-na’, "we play... ’Curzon-Ashton’. They are... ’not-Sunderland’."

Biyon ’pfft-ed’. "Curzon-Ashton! ’Boring’!"

"They are... ’twelfth’," Walter continued, ’ignoring-Biyon’. "They are... ’very-muddy’. And... ’they-like-to-kick-people’."

This was the ’new-enemy’. Not ’Sunderland’. The ’Sunderland-Distraction’.

Training that week was ’a-ss’.

The ’team’ was ’buzzing’, ’dreamy’. They weren’t ’focused-on-mud’. They were ’dreaming-of-a-carpet-pitch’.

"Gaffer?" Jamie ’Racehorse’ Scott ’panted’, ’stopping-in-the-middle-of-a-drill’. "D’you reckon their ’left-back’ is ’quick’? Like, ’Champions-League-quick’? ’Cos I’m ’quick’, Gaffer. I’m ’really-quick’."

"Jamie," Leon ’sighed’. "Run. Just... ’run’."

"Gaffer!" Dave the baker ’called-out’, ’wiping-his-hands-on-his-bib’. "Will they ’let-’ bring ’scones’ into ’their-fancy-stadium’? I was ’thinking’ of ’making-a-special-red-and-white-one’... ’strawberries-and-cream’..."

"Focus, Dave! ’Zonal-marking’!"

"Gaffer!" Liam ’Badger’ Doyle ’growled’, ’sliding-in-on-a-cone’ and ’destroying-it’. "Their ’striker’... I ’googled-him’. He’s on ’30-grand-a-week’. ’Thirty’!" He ’grinned’, a ’terrifying, joyful’ sight. "I’m going to ’tackle-his-paycheck’."

Leon ’put-his-head-in-his-hands’. His ’avalanche’ was ’daydreaming’.

The ’locker-room’ before the ’Curzon-Ashton’ match was ’buzzing’, but for ’all-the-wrong-reasons’. The ’lads’ were ’laughing’, ’joking-about-Sunderland’, ’arguing-over-who-would-get-a-shirt-from-the-’30-grand-a-week’-striker’.

Leon ’slamd-his-tactics-board’ against the ’wall’. WHACK.

The ’room-went-dead-silent’.

"Right," Leon said, his ’voice-low-and-dangerous’. "Shut up. Shut up... about ’Sunderland’."

The ’players-looked-stunned’. ’Gaffer’ was ’never-angry’.

"I ’get-it’," Leon said, ’pacing-the-floor’. "It’s ’massive’. It’s ’a-dream’. It’s a ’day-out’. But the ’dream’... is a ’holiday’. And we ’haven’t-earned-a-holiday’."

He ’jabbed-a-finger’ at the ’-6’ on the ’board’. "This... ’this’... is the ’job’. The ’job’ is ’Curzon-Ashton’. The ’job’ is ’mud’, and ’rain’, and ’getting-kicked-by-people-we-don’t-know-the-nas-of’."

He ’looked-around-the-room’. "You know what’s ’better’ than ’one-day-out’ at a ’fancy-stadium’? ’Earning-the-right’ to ’play-in-fancy-stadiums-every-single-week’. That’s ’called-promotion’. That’s ’the-climb’."

"We ’lose-today’ because we’re ’dreaming-of-Sunderland’... and that ’-6’... it ’stays-a-mountain’. We ’win-today’... we ’do-the-job’... and we are ’one-step-closer’."

"Sunderland is the ’reward’. This... is the ’fight’. Go ’earn-your-reward’."

The ’room-was-silent’. The ’dream’ was ’gone’. The ’focus’ was ’back’.

Walter Samuel ’stood-up’, ’holding-the-lineup-sheet’. He ’cleared-his-throat’.

"They... have a ’man’... with a ’red-beard’," Walter ’rumbled’. "Biyon... ’has-a-bad-feeling-about-him’. He ’does-not-trust-him’. ’Mark-the-beard’."

The ’match’ was ’everything-Walter-promised’. ’Muddy’. ’Kicky’. ’Horrible’.

It was not a ’beautiful-avalanche’. It was an ’ugly-fist-fight-in-a-puddle’. The ’Badger’ and the ’red-beard’ ’got-into-a-delightful-shoving-match’ in the ’10th-minute’ and ’both-got-a-yellow-card’. ’Honours-even’.

0-0. ’Tense’. ’Ugly’.

85th minute. A ’corner’. Leon ’yelled-instructions’. ’The-Mountain’ ’lumbar-ed-forward’.

A ’crackle’ in ’Walter’s-ear’. Walter ’listened’. "Biyon... ’has-an-idea’," he ’rumbled-to-Leon’. "’Operation: Mountain-Decoy’."

Leon ’blinked’. He ’trusted-his-team’. "DO IT!"

The ’corner-taker’ ’signalled’. ’The-Mountain’, Samuel Adebayo, ’made-a-huge-show’ of ’charging-the-near-post’. He ’dragged-two-defenders’ (including ’red-beard’) ’with-him’.

The ’ball’ ’sailed-over-all-of-them’.

It ’floated’... ’beautifully’... to the ’far-post’.

Where ’Dave-the-baker’, ’completely-unmarked’, ’panicked’. He ’jumped’, ’closed-his-eyes’, and ’stuck-his-stomach-out’.

THUMP.

The ’ball-hit-him-in-the-stomach’ and ’bounced’, ’pathetically’, ’over-the-line’.

1-0.

It was ’the-ugliest-goal-in-the-history-of-football’. And it was ’the-most-beautiful-thing-Leon-had-ever-seen’.

The ’final-whistle-blew’. 1-0. An ’ugly, muddy, stomach-bumping, three-points’.

They were on -3.

Leon was in his ’office’, ’exhausted’, ’covered-in-mud’, ’too-tired-to-move’. The ’job-was-done’.

His ’phone-buzzed’. ’Marco’.

"LEO! ’GOOD-WIN’! ’UGLY-WIN’! ’THREE-MORE-POINTS’!" ’Marco-scread’. "-3! ’I-CAN-TASTE-ZERO’!"

"Thanks, Marco," Leon ’yawned’. "It was... ’a-fight’."

"BUT! ’BIG-NEWS’, LEO! ’SUNDERLAND-NEWS’!"

"What, Marco? They ’forfeiting’?" Leon ’joked’.

"NO! ’BETTER’! The ’BBC’, Leo! They ’LOVED-YOU’! They ’loved-the-suit’! They ’loved-the-scones-joke’! The ’viewing-figures-were-huge’!"

"Okay...?"

"SO! The ’FA-Cup-Committee’... they’ve voted’!"

"Voted ’what’?"

"’Our-match’, Leo! Apex FC ’at’ Sunderland! It’s ’been-selected’..."

’Marco-paused-for-dramatic-effect’.

"...for the ’MAIN-TV-SLOT’!" he ’shrieked’. "’Live on BBC One’! ’Saturday at 5:30 PM’!"

"The ’whole-country’ is ’coming-to-the-avalanche’, Leo. The ’whole-country’."

Leon’s knees felt weak. His muddy, ugly, beautiful 1-0 win felt like a distant, quiet dream. Marco’s voice was a ’joy-bomb’ exploding in his ear.

"Live... on BBC-One?" Leon repeated, sinking into his ’manager’s-chair’ (a ’wobbly-plastic-stool’). "The ’main-slot’? Not... not the ’red-button’?"

"NO ’RED-BUTTON’!" Marco shrieked, ’pure-static-and-joy’ coming down the line. "The ’big-one’, Leo! The ’Match-of-the-Day-special’! ’Pundits’! ’Slow-motion-replays’ of the ’Badger’s-tackles’! ’Heart-warming-video-packages’ of ’Dave-the-baker-baking’!"