Chapter 89: FA Cup Final [4]
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Second Half:
The referee's whistle cut through the air at exactly 4:00 p.m.
Wembley stood beneath a sky of steel and floodlights blazing like war drums.
The pitch glistened with dew and anticipation.
Ninety thousand fans roared one massive, living, breathing storm.
Waves of blue surged through the stands as Chelsea fans thundered:"Chels-ea! Chels-ea!"
But in one blazing corner, a wall of red held firm. Smaller, louder, hungrier."Craw-ley! Craw-ley!"
The underdogs had come to fight.
Every breath on the field tasted like tension.
Max Simons hovered near Chelsea's box, shoulders squared, eyes locked in. His captain's armband was tight on his bicep, his jaw clenched.
He wasn't here for the occasion. He was here for the moment.
On the right wing, Thiago exploded into motion, ribbon whipping behind him like a flag in battle.
There was no hesitation in his stride just speed, and fire.
