Chapter 51: No Way Through

Chapter 51: No Way Through Chapter 51: No Way Through Saturday, February 13, 2010 League Two Matchday: Notts County vs. Crawley Town The Crawley Town squad’s bus carved through the February mist, its engine a low growl as it traced the M1 north, a 130-mile trek to Meadow Lane, Notts County’s stronghold. Five days after their 3-1 triumph over Cheltenham Town, the squad’s fire still smoldered, Thiago’s sharp opener, Luka Radev’s cool finish, and Max Simons’ towering header fueling their fifth-place climb in League Two. The bus hummed with tension, seats creaking as the squad settled. Max Simons stared out at the passing fields, his Cheltenham header a quiet anchor. Thiago fiddled with earbuds, a samba tune leaking out, prompting Korey Henry’s grin, "Thiago, save the dancing for their defenders!" Thiago’s laugh, "haha, I dance they fall!" eased the mood, but Kieron Marsh, filling Nate’s role, gripped his water bottle, eyes distant, his Cheltenham tackle a spark now dimmed by nerves. José Baxter, leafing through a match program, muttered, "Their keeper’s a brick wall, lads." Luka Radev, ever sharp, countered, "We’ll find a crack." A brief stop at a service station revealed a lone Crawley fan, his red scarf stark against the gray, a banner reading, "Nate’s Fight, Our Heart!" swaying in the wind. He pressed a thermos of tea into Dev Patel’s hands, "For the lads, yeah?" Dev’s nod, "We’ll make you proud, mate," warmed the chill, the squad’s resolve a flicker in the fog. Back on the road, Niels rose, voice steady over the engine’s drone. "Notts County’s defense is a fortress, their keeper’s top class, their playmaker pulls every string. Kieron, keep an eye on him and don’t give him space. Thiago, Luka, hit their flanks, stretch ’em thin. Their crowd’s brutal, but we’re Crawley, we don’t bend. Burnley’s next, a giant. Today’s for Nate, for us, for everyone." The squad murmured, "For Crawley," Max’s clap on Kieron’s shoulder a vow, Jamal Osei’s quiet, "We’ve got this," a pulse of steel. Thiago’s grin, "I score, boss!" sparked a chuckle, but as Meadow Lane’s floodlights pierced the mist, Notts County’s black-and-white flags snapping, the bus grew still, the weight of 4,000 hostile fans pressing close. The away dressing room was a concrete box, the air thick with liniment and urgency. Max, Luka, Korey, Dev, Jamal, Tom Whitehall, Reece Darby, Adam Fletcher, Thiago, Baxter, and Kieron formed the starting eleven, with Toby Myers and Ilyas Kadir on the bench. Niels taped a tactic sheet to the wall, Notts County’s playmaker and center-backs circled. "Their playmaker drifts, Kieron, stay on his toes. Jamal, Reece, block their wingers. Their keeper’s a monster, so aim low, be sharp. We’re away, so stay patient, hit on the counter." Kieron’s jaw clenched, his task daunting, Max’s nod, "You’re ready, lad," a lifeline. Baxter’s Scouse quip, "Their backline’s tough, but I’ll make ’em dizzy," drew grins, but Niels’ pulse thrummed, the roar of Meadow Lane seeping through, Burnley’s shadow a distant storm. Outside, Notts County’s fans filled the stands, 4,000 voices bellowing, "Magpies!" their black-and-white scarves a tide, Crawley’s 200 traveling supporters a defiant red spark, "We are Crawley!" A boy’s sign, "Max’s Our Hero!" danced, his mum’s shout, "Come on, Reds!" cutting through the jeers. The tunnel was a crucible, Notts County’s players tall and composed, their captain’s handshake to Max firm but cold. As they stepped onto the pitch, the frost nipped Niels’ skin, the home crowd’s boos a wall, Crawley’s fans’ chant, "We’ll never fall!" a beacon in the din. The air crackled, Notts County’s defense a monolith, Crawley’s heart a fire to test it. Kickoff: The whistle blew, and Meadow Lane ignited, the first half a gauntlet of steel and frustration. Notts County struck early, their playmaker gliding past Kieron’s lunge, his pass splitting Crawley’s line, their striker slotting low past Fletcher in the 15th minute. 1-0. The stands roared, "County!" 4,000 fans surging, Crawley’s 500 stunned but chanting, "Come on, Red Devils!" Niels signaled calm, "Keep calm, guys!" but Kieron’s head dipped, his error a weight. Notts County’s defense, a wall of muscle, repelled Crawley’s response, their center-back blocking Thiago’s darting run, the crowd jeering, "No chance!" In the 18th minute, Luka’s cross found Tom, whose header was plucked from the air by their keeper, a towering figure, the home fans roaring, "Super Kev!" Niels’ plan to stretch their flanks faltered, Notts County’s backline reading every move. Crawley pushed, their grit raw but blunted. In the 22nd minute, Thiago, Instinct Lens [Silky technique] flaring, weaved through two defenders, his low shot tipped wide by the keeper’s glove, Crawley’s fans surging, "Thi-a-go!" A woman in a red scarf pounded the barrier, "Keep going, lads!" her voice fierce. Baxter’s free-kick in the 27th minute curled perfectly, but Notts County’s center-back headed clear, his shout, "Not today!" echoing. Kieron, struggling to track their playmaker, misjudged a pass, sparking a counter, Fletcher’s diving save denying their winger, Crawley’s fans gasping, "Fletch-er!" In the 35th minute, Notts County doubled their lead. Their playmaker, slipping Kieron’s mark, lofted a ball over Jamal, their striker outpacing Dev, his volley crashing past Fletcher’s stretch. 2-0. Meadow Lane erupted, "Magpies!" scarves twirling, Crawley’s 200 fans defiantly chanting, "We’ll fight to the end!" Niels’ fists clenched, his tactics unraveling, Notts County’s defense a fortress, their keeper untouchable. In the 38th minute, Baxter, Instinct Lens [Creative spark] glowing, split their midfield with a through-ball, Luka sprinting free, but the keeper rushed out, smothering his shot, the home crowd roaring, "Super Kev!", "Super Kev!" A man in a Crawley cap groaned, "He’s a bloody wall!" his son’s scarf still raised. The tempo ground on, Notts County’s backline relentless, their center-back blocking Tom’s flick-on, their keeper tipping Luka’s curling effort over in the 42nd minute, "Fletch-er!" drowned by "County!" Kieron’s late tackle earned a yellow, the home fans booing, Crawley’s supporters chanting, "Kie-ron!" his face flushed, Niels shouting, "Stay cool, lad!" In the 44th minute, Thiago’s stepovers drew a foul, the free-kick headed wide by Max, Crawley’s fans urging, "Come on, Reds!" Stoppage time brought two minutes, Notts County’s corner cleared by Jamal, his shout to Max fierce, the whistle sounding. Half-Time: Notts County 2-0 Crawley Town The dressing room was a furnace of frustration, the squad slumped, sweat dripping, eyes on Niels. Max wiped his brow, Thiago kicked a water bottle, Kieron’s head bowed, his errors raw. Niels stood, voice firm but laced with hope. "We’re down, lads, and this is Meadow Lane, their fortress, and we’re still in it. Their keeper’s a class, their defense is iron, but we’ll find a crack. Kieron, shake it off, you’re learning. Thiago, Luka, keep hitting their flanks. Ilyas, you’re coming on, fresh legs. Burnley’s in seven days, a giant, but today’s our fight, for Nate, for Crawley." Max nodded, "For Nate." The squad echoed, "For Nate," their fire flickering but stubborn. Niels’ mind raced, Notts County’s playmaker is like a ghost, hard to track and their keeper a titan, Burnley’s Premier League might a storm on the horizon. Could his squad, battered but defiant, spark a comeback in the second half, or would Meadow Lane’s wall stand tall? ✨ Enjoying the story? ✨ A Golden Ticket or a gift goes a long way in supporting the novel, boosting its visibility on novelhall, and keeping the Chapters flowing! Your support truly motivates me and brightens my day too! ????