Michael Sterling was numb. He was standing up, but he didn't remember standing.
His hands were on his head, but he didn't remember putting them there. His mouth was wide open, but no sound was coming out.
In front of him, 90,000 people were in a state of pure, collective shock.
The 45,000 Barnsley fans... had just exploded. The noise was a physical, joyous, unbelievable roar that shook the very foundations of the "Cathedral of Football."
The 45,000 Man City fans... were dead silent. A vast, light-blue graveyard of disbelief.
Down on the pitch, Raphael Santos, the "Magician," was already buried.
He was at the bottom of a massive, red-and-white pile of joyous, screaming, "kids."
Finn Riley had somehow gotten on top, his 'Wild Fox' face a mask of pure, hysterical laughter.
"YOU DID IT! YOU MEANT TO DO IT! I KNEW IT!"
Jamie Weston was trying to pull him out, just so he could shake him.
"TELL ME YOU MEANT TO DO THAT! TELL ME!"
