Twenty minutes after the final whistle, the chaos on the pitch was still in full swing. Fans were everywhere, players were being passed from shoulder to shoulder, and the noise hadn't dimmed one bit. I stood on the touchline with Frankie, both of us just watching, absorbing, trying to make sense of what we'd just achieved.
"That Libero gambit," Frankie said quietly. "I thought you'd lost your mind. But it worked. It actually worked."
"Jamie made it work," I said. "He was brave when it mattered."
"And JJ," Frankie added. "That finish in the 85th minute. Ice cold. The kid's special, Gaffer."
I nodded, watching JJ being carried around by fans, his grin visible from a hundred yards away. He'd turned down £50,000 to stay with us. Now he was a champion. The "Gaffer's Player" trait had manifested in the biggest moment of all.
