The extra point was a formality, shrinking the lead further. When Wallace ventured back onto the field for the kickoff, the score read 17–20.
Wallace had to deal with his failure quickly. One of the first things a gambler learnt was how to get over bad luck. Elliot was still soul-searching, staring vacantly as he stood in the end-zone. As the ball sailed through the air, Wallace realised he wouldn't have any help from the hopeless boy.
Without that extra blocker, and despite his best efforts, Wallace could only bring the ball back to the 23-yard line. Dusting himself off, he shot Elliot a dirty look while wandering off the field. Oh well, the offence had done its job. The defence still had a lead to protect even if the offence didn't score for the rest of the game.
Coach Barnum, stroking his moustache, had thought the same, or near enough. He knew his star well enough to understand Elliot needed some time to deal with whatever issues might've been plaguing him. In the meantime, he had absolute faith in his team to deal with the adversity they faced, and come out victorious. They hadn't won every game by such minimal margins just to lose a one-score game in Nationals.
The Tigers started their drive with a run. Perhaps a risk after how the last drive ended, but Coach Barnum didn't see it that way. The Dons had surprised them, that was all, and their luck wouldn't run THAT bad for long.
A gain of 2 seemed like a great victory after the previous fumble, but best of all for the Tigers, it chewed through some of the clock. There was still over ten minutes remaining in the fourth quarter; maybe it was too early to think about running out the clock, but every little bit helped when you held a lead, even one as minuscule as three points.
Following this line of thought, the Tigers kept the ball on the ground and ran again on second down. The Dons' D-Line held up and contained the RB, keeping him in check and holding him in place.
Ty ran his tongue along his sharp teeth. Third-and-long. His time. And based on the emptiness he felt from Dumbo, he was already broken. The Tigers would break next. A pick-six would be the perfect way to finish them off.
The huddles dispersed. Worried looks followed Elliot as he took his position. One first down would drain another couple of minutes from the clock. More importantly, if Elliot snapped out of his funk, the Tigers could score again and regain their two-possession buffer.
Confidence exuded from Ty's ice-cold core as he stood in front of Elliot. He stared down at the taller boy. The world around Ty seemed distorted, like a vortex bending everything else to its will.
Elliot stared, focus slowly returning to his eyes. Elliot and Ty were still alone, isolated so far from anyone and—nearly—everything. THEY were still watching. They were always watching. Their guidance could always reach him, even if others tried to get in the way. He just had to eliminate those distractions.
As the ball was snapped, light swirled around Ty. Elliot surged forward, hands up, both needed to catch potential spears when he couldn't tell if the left or right was coming. He pushed through the press, and Ty backed off quickly, maintaining his space and control.
Elliot could still see the light, even with the vortex raging around Ty, bending it out of its shape … except, nobody could alter Their guidance. What he saw wasn't a trick of the eye, or even a mistake. There was some unholy, unnatural bending by whatever strange forces surrounded Ty and kept him from Their radiance. But the bending was the guideline.
Ty watched the hope return to Elliot's eyes. Surprising, but a welcome one. Here he thought he'd already crushed Elliot down into dust, but it turned out he'd get another chance. Oh, that moment would be so sweet, especially against a fraud like Elliot. The Tigers thought they knew what deep waters were, just because they'd won a few close games … they knew nothing.
Elliot shot in, Ty shifted with him, undercutting the route. Even if there was a deflection at the Line, he'd beat anyone to the ball. Elliot shifted, spinning behind Ty, slingshotting around towards the outside like he was launching out of a planet's orbit.
Behind but not beaten, Ty burst after him, pushing to the limit. Every ball was his. He wasn't out of position, he was exactly where he needed to be, and he could close ANY gap. No-one was special next to him.
Elliot drifted closer towards the sideline. A sun radiated where he needed to be. He needed to push, but They wouldn't have chosen this path for him if he didn't think he could reach it.
Elliot jumped; Ty did so a step later. Both boys stretched towards the ball. Light and dark raced towards it. The Light won.
Elliot's hands clamped around the ball, even as Ty clawed and swiped at his arms, he held strong, toes extended down, they dragged across the turf a moment before he and Ty crashed out of bounds.
Finally, the crowd had something more to cheer about. Elliot couldn't keep the smile from his face as he clutched the ball tight against his chest, holding onto it like it was all that gave him life.
Ty rolled off him, more cracks shooting through him. He'd lost? That didn't make any sense. Several Dons stepped forward from the bench, helping him back to his feet. There worries weren't assuaged when he was too stunned to refuse them like usual.
Coach Hoang glanced towards the scoreboard. The clock worried him. Under ten minutes, and running towards zero. It wasn't too big of a concern, YET, but they didn't have time for Ty to break down how Elliot was special, and how best to counter that facet. The battle dragging on was as good as a victory for the Tigers. Ty needed to land the fatal blow fast.
He had confidence Ty would do it. Faith some would say. But all the Tigers needed was one more touchdown. All it took was one mistake, one miraculous surge; a puncher's chance was a terrifying, unpredictable thing.
Elliot glanced back at the Dons' bench as he returned to the Tigers' huddle—they were more than happy to take their time. He locked eyes with Ty. There was a glint in Elliot's eyes. It was much too smug and hopeful for Ty's liking. He'd snuff it out no matter what.
With a fresh set of downs, the Tigers returned to the ground, forcing more runs up the middle. The RB didn't try his hardest to break through the Line or squeeze through gaps, more concerned about protecting the ball. He only gained a yard total over the following two runs. Third down—Ty's down—was back, but more than a minute had been lost.
Ty didn't care about the clock. Elliot was before him again, and so was that look. That glaring, prideful look, blind to anyone beneath them. Ty was beneath NO-ONE.
The ball was snapped, and Elliot charged towards the storm. All he had to do was follow the light. Everything would be okay as long as he followed Their light.
Ty kept his space. When Elliot stepped inward, he hardly budged, but came down as Elliot spun back towards the outside. That wasn't it. The same play again? Maybe it was his best route, but the same thing wouldn't work twice against him. Elliot would know that. He didn't overcommit. The ball was his, he didn't need to chase it like he was desperate for his first touch.
Elliot shifted out of his spin, pushing upfield. Ty was right by his side. Joined at the hip, they raced towards the end-zone. Elliot could still see the light ahead of them. He surged towards it, raising his eyes, they briefly met Ty's. How could a single pair of eyes hold such much darkness? Fleeing that dark, he looked back to find the ball, find their light … and found nothing but the void of space where the dome's ceiling should've been.
There were no stars in that void. Not even Their light survived. Everything was drawn away, drawn to HIM. Nothing could escape, nothing could save Elliot, from the black hole's universal pull.
Ty slipped in front of Elliot, who twisted around, stumbling and falling onto his back. Ty had eyes only for the meteorite soaring through the sky. The ball fell into his hands, and his eyes brightened. There was a lot of green grass in front of him. Shocked gasps sucked the last life from the stadium. They were Ty's fuel as he pushed off, eyes locked on the end-zone. He tripped, and fell on his face.
Elliot's legs were tangled around his. A last pitiful shred of luck? Or maybe it was a desperate loser's final attempt to cling to hope. The officials didn't think it was deliberate, ruling the play dead after confirming the interception rather than flagging Elliot for tripping.
Ty's anger didn't last long. It couldn't. He had another interception. One where no-one could even argue that luck was involved. Elliot only fell because that's where he belonged to be, on the ground at Ty's feet. Ty stood over Elliot, holding victory in his hands.
He offed one hand to Elliot, and once the shock wore off enough, Elliot accepted. Ty yanked him to his feet, dropped the ball, then snatched the beads from around Elliot's neck. The necklace snapped in Ty's grasp, beads spilling to the turf. Shock widened Elliot's eyes, even as they trembled and tried to shrink away from what they were seeing. A grin deformed Ty's face. Elliot fell back, landing on his ass. He stared up at Ty, seeing him for the demon he was. Ty laughed. It was perfect. He'd snatched Elliot's soul right out of him; he probably wouldn't ever step foot on a field again. If his spirit was crushed that easily, good riddance.
Officials rushed in, racing to get between the boys before any Dons or Tigers had a chance to. The Dons on the sideline were closer, drawing Ty back into their ranks before the Tigers arrived. Elliot was pulled back to his feet. Whistles cried, flags flew, but the melee didn't devolve further than shoving and taunting. Even the crowd had regurgitated their tongues, booing heavily, baying for Ty's blood.
The coliseum was in chaos, and Ty was loving every second of it. It didn't matter he and the Dons were penalised with Unsportsmanlike Conduct, and the offence would have to start 15 yards back; the game was already over.
A hand reached through the horde of Dons and snagged Ty's face-mask, pulling him around. Deshaun's grin was almost a reflection of Ty's own. 'That's what I'm fuckin' talkin' 'bout, Freshy! Let 'em know we run this shit!'
Ty laughed, dapping Deshaun up. But when Coach Hoang's voice cut through the clamour, Deshaun vanished back into the shuffle.
'Samuels!'
The players didn't part, but Ty pushed through them, not afraid to face whatever retribution the coaches thought his antics deserved. He'd earned them, and they were worth it. He stood before Coach Hoang, head tilted back, still smirking.
'You wipe that look off your face right now, Samuels,' Coach Hoang snarled. 'The fuck do you think you're doing? I'm not gonna let you throw this game because you think your petty ego is more important than actual results. You're lucky they didn't toss you out.'
Ty scoffed but took the tongue-lashing without retort. An ejection? That'd be an overreaction.
Coach Long pushed through to him, with Coach Norman just behind, giving his best, most disapproving look.
'I'm in a mind to suspend you for the rest of the season, young man,' Coach Long said. His voice was uncharacteristically cold. 'I would, but I won't allow your toxicity to take away a good thing from the other boys.' He waved a finger in front of Ty's scowling face. 'DON'T test me, however. I won't be as lenient a second time. Now sit down and stay quiet.'
Ty glared up at Coach Long. Maybe he'd gone too far, but sometimes you had to break the rules. To survive in the coliseum, you had to get a little nasty. He didn't think his bad actions outweighed the good, so why was he getting punished. Grinding his teeth, he skulked over to the bench and thudded down.
In a way, under his fuming fury, it was funny. He knew Coach Long would never lay a hand on a player, but somehow he was a lot more fearsome than Father, and his threats carried a whole lot more weight.
'You always have to ruin a good thing, don't you?'
'Huh?' Ty turned towards Bella. He hadn't even heard her sit next to him.
'You always take things too far cause you're just an immature little boy! When are you going to grow up?'
'Grow up? You grow up! I just won us this game, so I don't know why everyone's acting like I killed somebody.'
'The game's not over yet,' she said before getting up and storming off.
He looked towards the field. Now the dust had settled, the Dons' offence had taken over. She was right. He glanced to the scoreboard. There was plenty of time to score the go-ahead touchdown … but after the penalty the Dons were a long way from doing so.
The Dons weren't about to waste any time. Wallace was still watching Cole personally, but the rest of the Tigers' defence seemed wary. That paranoia could be played with. Cole lined up next to Amon again, switching positions with Stephen to return to their original look. But when Jay tapped his foot, Cole took off across the formation, moving in motion before the snap.
While Cole was still in motion, Jay called for the snap. Cole had already built up a head of steam, and jumped out as the rest of the field scrambled to catch up. He wasn't the only Don going deep. Stephen followed after him. The sledgehammer hiding in the shadow of a feint? When he cut towards the middle on a Post route, the Tigers thought so. They trusted Wallace against anybody. Jay trusted Cole. His trust in Chris paid off when Chris threw himself in the way of a dragon to stop it from mauling him. Would he say the same for his trust in Cole? Jay heaved the ball deep.
Cole had the edge in speed, gaining just enough distance, he stretched out a stride as the ball dropped over his shoulder. Wallace lunged, thudding into his back, desperate to jostle the ball loose as they crashed to the ground. Cole hugged it tight against his chest, squeezing on for life. The catch was good, and with it, the Dons had rocketed across half-field.
The Dons gave the Tigers no time to recover from the long bomb. Hurrying to the Line, they kept celebrations to the minimum; the job wasn't done yet. They had to knock the Tigers down whilst they had them reeling.
Jay called for the snap quickly, dropping back again. The Tigers' blitz was heavy. One way, the best way they saw, to take away such deep threats was to not give the Dons any time to get deep before they had to throw. Unfortunately for them, Jay had no intention of throwing.
Chris took the ball on the Draw play, shooting up the middle. He surged past overeager LBs, and cut hard around the Safeties collapsing down on him. An outstretched arm clipped his legs, tripping him as he fell forward, a yard short of another first down.
It was okay. The Dons were already in field goal range. With only a yard to go for another set of downs, and two more to get that yard, they could take their chances with another deep shot. The Tigers would expect it, and that brought in the risk of an interception, but only if the Tigers knew where the ball was going. Jay was sure they wouldn't.
A nervous warble could be heard in the crowd's chanting. They knew what was coming, even if they hardly believed it. The Dons took their time with the next huddle, letting the Tigers simmer in their worry and hesitation. Would they go for another deep shot? Or cut right through the middle again? If they sold out to stop the deep ball, wouldn't the underneath be open? Jay smirked as the Dons lined up, and he tapped his foot again.
Cole moved in motion once more. He flashed across the formation behind the Line, passing across Jay's face. The ball was snapped immediately after, and Cole rounded the corner in a sprint, leading the way for Stephen. If he snagged another reception like his last, it'd end in a touchdown. Wallace wouldn't allow it. He gave Cole a bigger buffer, staying over the top of him. But trust was a fragile thing.
Wallace wasn't the only one concerned with Cole. The Tigers saw him as the most dangerous Receiver on the Dons' team, the one they couldn't contain. Somehow, a giant like Stephen slipped their notice for a second, and that's all it took.
Cole cut inside on a Post, drawing attention from the deep Safety even as Wallace followed his streak across the field. Cole was the danger. It was a lesson he'd learned hard regarding these Dons. They weren't nearly as tricky as they thought. It wasn't even a gamble to stick with this clown. But he wouldn't be beat again! He didn't notice as Stephen drifted towards the corner of the end-zone, left alone in a one-on-one.
A moment of hesitation from the edge-rushers left Jay with a clear enough pocket, watching the play develop downfield. When he lobbed the ball deep, it was to the corner of the end-zone, not the middle.
Stephen tracked the ball through the air, finding the best position. During the final strides, he shifted to protect the drop zone, leaning into it as he dragged his feet. The ball plopped into his hands. He clamped it tight, running out the back of the end-zone.
The Dons had the lead for the first time that game.
'AHHH! FUCK YEAH!' Deshaun screamed from the sideline. His was the first voice to break the horrified silence filling the stadium, but it was soon followed by a chorus of cheers, few and far between, but loud enough to wash the field in noise.
Jay raced down the field to hug Stephen in the end-zone. The rest of the Dons' offence formed around them, jumping with joy and whopping as they danced their way to the sideline. They felt as if they'd just won the game. They practically had … but the rapid passes hadn't drained much time from the clock. The Tigers would get the ball back, and—with all their timeouts—would have plenty of time to answer.
The extra point was successful, eliminating the chance of overtime from a Tigers' field goal; they'd need a touchdown or nothing. Coach Hoang knew his defence wouldn't let the Dons down now that they finally had a lead to defend.
The kickoff resulted in a touchback. Neither Wallace nor Elliot even thought about returning it. Elliot shambled over to meet the offence as they walked onto the field. A nervous energy filled them, and those nerves weren't settled when they looked to their star for motivation. How could he guide them, if They wouldn't guide him?
Ty and the Dons were the exact opposite as they sauntered onto the field, more confident than they had been even at the start of the game. The officials kept a close eye on Ty, watching his next interaction with Elliot intently. But what more could Ty say to someone who was already broken? All he did was sneer at the declawed Tiger.
The Tigers couldn't waste any time on the ground. All their stubbornness regarding their run game had been for nothing. So when Travis took the snap and dropped back, his eyes instantly darted over to Elliot, who had stalled in the starting blocks.
Ty's spear landed flush for the first time, piercing an already shattered heart. Elliot staggered back. Ty's press was unrelenting; Elliot wasn't going anywhere.
Travis's eyes flicked across to the other side of the field. He flung the ball over to Logan, who was running a Corner route. The pass was too high, the coverage too close. It fell out of bounds incomplete. Travis hung his head. The Tigers reset, a few sour expressions turning Elliot's way as he shuffled over. If he noticed them, he didn't react.
The next two plays weren't much better for the Tigers. Without any light to guide him, Elliot was powerless against Ty. He wandered aimlessly, an empty husk lost in the darkness. Had there ever been any light?
After a horrid three-and-out, Elliot led the Tigers' offence off the field, shambling over to the sideline. 'I'm sorry, Coach,' he said, slumping over on the bench.
Coach Barnum stared down at Elliot. Never before had he seen the boy so exhausted, so defeated. Elliot had always had a smile on his face, a light in his eyes like he wanted you to know everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't going to be okay. He'd failed Elliot in that way.
He sat beside the boy, putting an arm around his shoulders. 'Sorry? For what, Elliot? That was a hell of a show you put on. But it's not over yet. The show must go on, so let's enjoy every moment until the curtains are drawn for good.'
Elliot blinked tears away, looking across at Coach Barnum. Had there always been such a warm light in Coach's eyes? He glanced around at the rest of the team. Wallace, Drake, and the defence marched onto the field, diligent and determined until the end. He wasn't alone. There had always been those around him willing to guide him to the promised land. He smiled.
'Okay, Coach. Let's win this.'
The one saving grace for the Tigers was the fact their three-and-out didn't use much time. Of course, every second counted, and after punting the ball away, you could bet the Dons would be more than happy to drain the clock during their following drive.
On the opposite sideline, Coach Long called upon JJ's number. 'Julian. Lead the way to victory. We don't need another score, just to drain the clock. Get those first downs and make it possible.'
JJ responded with a smile, 'You got it, Coach.'
He led the way for the offence, joining them on the field. Cameron was alongside him in place of Chris. They didn't hide the fact they were planning on running the Tigers over. It was up to the Tigers to stop them.
Ty watched from the sideline, glancing towards the clock as the seconds ticked away. The Tigers and Dons fought their war. A muddy, gritty affair. But even mudslinging had its time and place in the coliseum. The Dons won victory in the first battle, gaining 7 yards, then 4, earning another set of downs, draining over a minute from the clock, bringing the game to the two-minute warning.
During the break, trenches were dug, lines were drawn, and the troops were replenished.
Coming out of the break, the Tigers threw everything they had at stopping the run. A pass over the top might've broken the game open and sealed it for the Dons, but Coach Long thought it an unnecessary risk, even when the first run after the break only gained 2 yards. Drake had clogged the middle of the field, moving away from his edge.
The Tigers called their first timeout, stopping the clock.
The next run didn't get much further, but Coach Long was fine with it as long as it caused the Tigers to call another timeout.
The Dons were soon on third down, but each play lost the Tigers valuable seconds and resources. Another run followed, and whilst a resurgent Cameron gave his all, he only earned 4 yards, not enough to secure another first down and end the game right there.
With the Tigers' final timeout, the clock was stopped with just over a minute and a half left.
The punt was booming, catching all of the ball, it sent Wallace back deep. Rather than let it bounce possibly into the end-zone for a touchback, or call for a fair catch, Wallace gambled and fielded it normally. Dodging past the first Dons chasing after him, he returned the ball to the 27-yard line. A good effort, but one that pulled a few more seconds from the clock.
It stopped once the return did, but the Tigers still hurried onto the field. The Dons matched their rhythm, and Ty was curious to see the colour had returned to Elliot's eyes. Those eyes weren't smug, or all-knowing like they had been, so Ty knew he wasn't seeing their "guidance" again. So what had stitched his broken spirit back together?
The ball was snapped. Even if Elliot had rediscovered his fighting spirit, he still couldn't break away from Ty. Coach Barnum was a good beacon, but it wasn't enough to help him get away from someone like Ty.
Travis looked away, desperately searching for another opening. A stumble from JJ led to Logan finding an opening over the middle; it helped the Dons were more concerned with protecting the sidelines than they were the middle of the field.
Logan caught the pass, sliding down after a gain of 13 yards, enough for another set of downs. The Tigers hurried up to the line, spiking the ball to stop the clock.
On second down, Travis dropped back for another pass. There was enough time to attack the middle, move quickly, and spike the ball after the catch. They could get into range if they played it safe but fast like that. Except the Dons converged back on the middle of the field as well.
Panicked eyes darted about, looking for an open target, finding none until it was too late. Travis was about to pull the ball back and launch it deep when Donte slammed into him. Half a second later and the Dons could've forced another fumble. Maybe the Tigers still had their luck.
But the crunching sack pushed them back 4 yards, and, more worryingly, continued to drain the clock. The Tigers moved quick, reloading their Receivers back behind the Line. Though rather than spike the ball, they went for another pass. Perhaps it caught the Dons off-guard, as another Receiver popped open over the middle and Travis found them for a 9 yard gain.
It didn't get them a first down, and they didn't get out of bounds to stop the clock either, putting the Tigers in a tricky situation. With the spike to open the set of downs basically skipping first down, they now found themselves on fourth down and without the option to spike the ball to stop the clock and give them some time to think about what to do next.
There was no time to think just play. Instincts took over. It was pure football. Whoever was better would walk out the victor.
Travis called for the snap, dropping back hurriedly. His eyes, wide and bloodshot, stung. He couldn't afford to blink and miss an opening. He risked a glance Elliot's way, even a millisecond felt important, but he was still covered. He pump-faked, looking past Logan, then came back to him, firing it in quick. The hesitation had brought Logan a step of space, and he secured the catch, diving for it 8 yards downfield, barely enough to bring them past half-field and give them another set of downs.
The Tigers ran harder than they ever had. Every set of sprints and suicides in training had been for moments like these as they rushed to the Line. The crowd willed them on, even if they were as quiet as they'd ever been there was such a frantic, wild energy in the stadium during the game's final stretch.
The Tigers spiked the ball. When Travis looked at the clock, his heart almost leapt out of his mouth. There was only ten seconds left. Ten seconds between them and defeat. Ten seconds for them to snatch victory away from the Dons. He glanced towards the end-zone. It may as well have been 1000 yards away. He finally took a breath. Everyone did. It felt like the final calm before the storm. A swift but savage storm that wrought only destruction to those caught in its path.
It wasn't down to the last play; the Tigers didn't have to panic yet. They could get another quick shot to the outside, sneak in some yards, make the deep shot into the end-zone more manageable. The distance didn't worry Travis much. They'd even won on a last-second Hail Mary before—it was how their season had started, and it looked like it could be how their season ended, too. He glanced towards Elliot. Was he finally back to his old self?
He lined up in shotgun, hands shaking so badly he couldn't still them. He called for the snap. His eyes went straight to Elliot once he had the ball. Ty was all over the Corner route. He risked another glance around the field. Logan's shallow Out was covered too, as was another Corner. The Dons were even covering the Go route the Tigers tried to get away with. There was nothing else to do but throw the ball away.
Voices cried out as the ball flew threw the air, as if they feared someone would intercept it fifteen feet off the ground and end the game right then. Travis's shoulders slumped as the clock stopped with five seconds left; it was all or nothing.
The teams lined up. The Dons' formation was almost comical. Donte was one of only three Dons who had stayed within 20 yards of the Line. The rest were waiting in the end-zone or just out of it. Ty stood, waiting patiently, trying to decide whether an interception on the final play, or—if the Tigers tried to set up a screen underneath—a fumble-inducing, bone-crunching tackle would be better.
Though, of course, the Tigers would go with the Hail Mary.
After the snap, five Receivers charged towards the end-zone. Elliot at the head of the Tigers' pack. Only once everyone had arrived at the end-zone, and the clock ticked down to zero, did Travis let the ball fly.
Ty watched the ball float through the air. It was a little crazy how after sixty intense minutes of back-and-forth battles, a war waged with both physical and tactical prowess, the result came down to one last prayer.
The pack closed around him and Elliot as everyone vied for the best position. Ty stood his ground, even as he was squished in between Tiger and Don alike. Squished was the fitting word. He could hardly move. There was no way he'd get a proper jump at the ball. He COULDN'T jump. He couldn't do anything. He thrashed against those near him, but it did nothing to free him from his prison.
A Hail Mary. It was a play that relied almost solely on luck. There was little you could do to prepare to execute or defend such a play. It almost came down to fate whether it succeeded or not. At least some would say that. That knowledge was a lead ball in Ty's stomach. Whether by luck or fate or whatever, Elliot was in the perfect position to jump for the ball. And Ty could do nothing but watch.
Elliot soared into the air … the pack parted, and from either side, Zayden and Deshaun leapt as well. All three met in mid-air.
Elliot got his hands to the ball first, but before you could blink, Zayden and Deshaun claimed it as well. They wrenched together, and as all three fell to the turf, Zayden and Deshaun ripped the ball from Elliot's grasp.
They fell together, tumbling over the ground, both still clutching to the ball, fighting each other for ownership until they realised they were on the same team.
The world was frozen for a moment that seemed to draw on endlessly. A whistle shattered the ice, and was soon joined by the wails of thousands of fans.
The game was over. The Dons had won.