"Welcome to the DW, where Wigan Athletic prepare for their first home game since those back-to-back away wins reignited belief," the commentator began, voice smooth, practised.
"Two changes for the Latics today. It won't be most, but I'm sure a few fans will be expecting to get a glimpse of the wizard who bamboozled at Vicarage Road."
A close-up of Leo in the warm-up bib pinging a pass across the pitch settled on the screen as the cheers of the fans rose.
"Seventeen years old. No senior starts yet. But maybe… just maybe— he might be the revelation Wigan need to escape their mediocrity"
.......
"Thank you," Noah Sarin mumbled as he stumbled off the bus with the kind of exhaustion that came from 48 hours of screen glare and lukewarm coffee.
His backpack thudded against his side as he jogged toward the DW Stadium gates, eyes already scanning the concrete giant ahead.
He held up his phone, the e-ticket glowing against the fading afternoon light.
