4-2. Champions.
Ethan dropped to his knees in his technical area, the roar of the crowd, the ecstatic screams of his players, the frantic, joyful monologue of the commentator all fading into a distant, beautiful hum.
He felt a pair of strong arms haul him to his feet. It was Grant Hanley, his face a mask of tear-streaked, glorious triumph.
"We did it, gaffer," the captain roared, his voice thick with emotion.
"We actually did it!"
Then the world became a blur of blue and white.
His players mobbed him, a joyous, sweaty, ecstatic pile-on of hugs and happy, incoherent shouts. He was at the bottom of a pile of champions, laughing a laugh so pure and so real it felt like the first one he had ever had.
On the live stream, which was still broadcasting to over seven thousand rapturous viewers, Tactics Tim had completely abandoned his analytical calm.
