Chapter 660: The Substitute!

As the bus approached the ground, the stadium came into view beyond the surrounding buildings.

Supporters were already gathering outside, scarves wrapped around their necks despite the mild weather.

Blue shirts mixed with Wigan’s colours, while vendors worked through the growing crowd.

When they saw the City coach approaching, the bellowing and all the chants got redirected towards them, looking to faze and haze the opponents before they even stepped onto the pitch.

"Full house eh?" Haaland said.

"Looks like it," Rodri replied.

Haaland gave a brief nod and returned to his seat.

A familiar opposition in Wigan, one that they had beaten multiple times now, but not without its difficulties.

In the FA Cup final the past season, they had almost lost, but had come through because of a debatable situation that the referee had thankfully ruled in their favour.

This wasn’t the final and the cup run could end in a single afternoon, regardless of reputation.

Still, the players disembarked without ceremony and made their way inside.

At the Wigan dressing room, Nolan stood near the doorway, watching the players finish their preparations.

With the game needing to get underway, the assistant manager began beckoning them outside.

"Come on, lads. We’re getting late."

"Yeah, yeah," one of the players called without looking up.

Nolan gave him a flat stare.

"Lovely. Take your time, then. I’m sure City will wait for us."

A few players laughed as they filed past.

One nudged Nolan’s shoulder on the way out.

Another tried to shove him aside, only to discover that moving the staff member was considerably harder than expected.

Nolan barely shifted and then looked at the player, Callum Lang, to be specific.

"Finished?" he asked.

The player grinned and then carried on.

Nolan shook his head, but a smile slipped through as the last few players passed him.

Whatever tension waited outside, the group hadn’t lost its sense of humour.

When they emerged into the stadium together a moment later, the response was immediate.

The home crowd rose to welcome them, noise rolling across the stands as the players stepped onto the pitch.

Wigan scarves swung above heads, and the familiar chants began to gather momentum.

One section started a song, another picked it up, and soon the sound carried around the ground.

The players acknowledged the supporters with raised hands and brief waves before spreading out for the warm-up.

Leo moved through the passing drills, keeping his touches sharp.

Nearby, Reyes and Carlo exchanged quick passes while the defenders worked through their movements.

Dawson watched from the touchline, occasionally calling out an instruction, but for the most part he let the players settle into their routines.

For a few minutes, the noise belonged entirely to Wigan.

Then the stadium announcer’s voice rang out.

"And now, your visitors for today’s FA Cup fifth-round tie..."

Before he could finish, the Manchester City players emerged, and the reaction from the home crowd changed at once.

The cheers gave way to a mixture of whistles and boos, with a few louder voices making their feelings known, but City, being the team they were, were accustomed to such welcomes.

Their players continued towards the pitch, acknowledging the officials and taking in the atmosphere without much reaction.

The announcer waited for the noise to settle before raising his voice.

"Wigan Athletic... are you ready?"

The answer came from every side of the stadium as the players continued warming up; the final preparations began while coaches spoke to their groups, goalkeepers worked through their drills, and the officials made their checks.

The stadium filled with the restless energy that came before a cup tie, when the waiting had almost become as important as the match itself.

Soon, the teams were called back towards the tunnel.

......

[5 minutes later]

On the touchline, Pep Guardiola stepped away from his technical area and walked towards the middle to meet Dawson.

The two managers had crossed paths often enough over the past couple of seasons.

Dawson had built Wigan into a side capable of troubling the established elite, and their previous FA Cup final had only added to the growing familiarity between them.

When they closed the gap, Pep offered his hand.

"We’re seeing each other rather often lately, aren’t we?"

Dawson nodded at the man’s words and then took his hands into his with a small smile.

"People like a good show and it seems we’ve both been giving them one."

Pep laughed.

"Apparently."

"Though I wouldn’t have minded a slightly easier run of fixtures," Dawson added.

"United, Liverpool, and now you. It’s a lot of big opposition in a short space of time."

"They should have arranged the draw differently."

"Then let’s be sure to let them know ahead of schedule next time."

Pep smiled again before releasing his hand.

"Have a good game."

"You too."

After that, the Spaniard turned back towards his bench, where one of his assistants was waiting.

The assistant glanced towards the Wigan players, then back at Pep with a puzzled expression.

Pep noticed it and then asked as he inched closer.

"What is it?"

The assistant nodded towards the pitch.

"Calderon isn’t starting."

At the string of words, Pep’s expression changed.

He turned sharply towards the Wigan lineup, scanning the players gathering near the halfway line.

Max Power and Jordan Henderson were there, taking their places in the midfield.

But Leo was nowhere among the starters.

For a moment, Pep said nothing.

Then movement near the Wigan technical area caught his eye as Leo walked over from the tunnel towards the substitutes’ bench.

He passed the staff, exchanged a few words with Willian, then settled into his seat beside him and Joe Bennett.

As he sat down, Leo looked across the touchline and met Pep’s gaze.

He gave the City manager a small nod and then proceeded to settle.

Pep returned the look, though his attention lingered for another moment before he turned away.

"Let’s see what happens first," he said easily, though his furrowed brows already suggested his thinking into what Dawson was trying to play at.

His assistant glanced at him, also trying to work out what Wigan’s decision meant.

Pep walked towards his seat as the players on the pitch began to disperse, the final pre-match pleasantries drawing closer.

Wigan had left their most influential player on the bench and it seemed only time would tell why.