Glory Of The Football Manager System

Chapter 87: Still in it II:The Final Day, Part 2

The ball left his foot like a rocket. It flew through the air, dipping, swerving, a perfect trajectory. The keeper dove, arms outstretched, fingertips grasping. He got a touch. But it wasn’t enough. The ball hit the back of the net.

1-1.

The away end exploded. It was pure, unfiltered joy. Our fans were on their feet, roaring, screaming, crying, hugging strangers. The noise was deafening, a wall of sound that seemed to shake the very ground.

Jamie stood there, stunned, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just done. Then his teammates mobbed him. Big Dave got there first, grabbing him in a bear hug that lifted him off his feet.

"That’s it, kid! That’s it!" Baz ruffled his hair. Kev was screaming in his face. JJ was jumping on his back. The entire team surrounded him, a mass of green and white, of joy and relief and pure, beautiful redemption.

I looked at the stands. Mark Crossley was jumping, arms in the air, tears streaming down his face. Emma was on her feet, phone in hand, texting frantically.

My phone buzzed. Emma: "SALFORD STILL 0-0! YOU’RE LEVEL ON POINTS! ONE MORE GOAL AND YOU’RE CHAMPIONS!"

One more goal. Thirty-five minutes left. We were level. We were alive. The dream was still breathing.

I turned to Frankie. He was grinning, something I rarely saw. "The kid’s got balls," he said. "I’ll give him that."

"He’s got more than that," I said. "He’s got heart."

I shouted instructions to the touchline. "Keep the shape! Don’t get carried away! Stay disciplined!" But inside, I was screaming with joy. We’d done it. We’d come back from the dead.

But Hyde wasn’t done. Colin Briggs, their manager, made a substitution. Brought on a fresh striker. They went more direct, more physical. In the 61st minute, Whitmore had another header. Big Dave tipped it over. In the 64th minute, their winger cut inside and shot. It whistled past the post.

My phone buzzed. Emma: "Salford 1-0. They’ve scored. You HAVE to win now."

instant. Salford had scored. Drawing wasn’t enough anymore. The math was brutal. If it ended 1-1, Salford would be champions on goal difference because drawing was not enough anymore. We had to win. Had to find

Twenty-three minutes plus stoppage

Frankie Morrison. He was already thinking the same thing. "We need to go for it,

attacker. Pushed Kev higher. Told Jamie to step up more,

Hyde sensed our desperation and tried to hit us on the break. We threw everything forward,

space behind our advanced full-backs. He was through on goal. Big Dave came out, made himself big, and saved with his legs. The ball deflected out for a corner. "Come on!" I screamed at the touchline. "Stay

edge of the box. Their center-back threw himself in front of it, blocking it with his body. The ball deflected out for

in. Baz attacked it at the near post, getting his head to it. The keeper reacted brilliantly, tipping it over the bar. Another corner. We were piling on

Crossley was standing at the barrier, hands clasped together, praying. Emma was biting her nails, phone clutched in her other

to hold on, to stay compact, to run down the clock. They

in the 85th

the field. The system would have shown him the passing lanes, the space, the opportunity. But Jamie didn’t need the system. He had the

a run, timing it perfectly to stay onside. Jamie played a perfect through ball, weighted beautifully, splitting Hyde’s defense like a knife through butter. JJ was through. One-on-one with the keeper. The entire stadium held its

to narrow the angle, trying to intimidate the young striker. But JJ stayed calm. He took a touch to the side, taking the ball away from the

2-1.

stopped. Then

slid on his knees, pointed at the badge, then

1-0! YOU’RE

Five minutes to hold on. Five minutes to win the title. Five minutes

sent his keeper up for a corner in the 89th minute. The ball came in. Bodies everywhere. Big Dave punched clear. The referee checked his

longest four minutes of my

They had another corner. We cleared. They had a free kick. Baz headed away. The crowd was screaming. Our fans were

Three minutes.