Chapter 73: Chapter 72: Preston U18 Vs Tranmere U18 III
Noah caught his eye and lifted a hand as they reset. My bad, cover was late.
Jamie did not complain. He waved it off, got back into his shape, and went back to scanning, Kieran first, then Archie behind him, then Kieran again.
That was the job. You paid attention or you got punished.
Then, around the hour, it all lined up.
Preston attacked first, working it patiently, but Callum flung himself in and Tranmere won the second ball near the middle of the pitch.
Noah got to it. He received with his back half-turned, felt Whitaker coming, and rolled away from the press in one movement.
He did not hold it this time. He looked up and played it early, first proper chance he got, into Finn’s feet.
Finn held Archie Bennett. He did not bounce it backwards. He stayed wide and kept the full-back pinned, waiting.
Jamie saw Archie’s weight sit for half a beat, unsure, and he went.
Full pace, outside, into the gap.
Finn released it at the exact right moment, into his stride.
Jamie did not take a touch he did not need. He drove to the edge of the box and cut it low back across the six-yard line, behind Lucas Hartley’s block but in front of Mason Fielding, into the channel where nobody was.
The striker attacked the near post and missed it by a step.
But Liam came flying in behind him, onto exactly the ball the striker had left.
THWACK.
First time, low, into the net.
Tranmere 1, Preston 1.
It came out as relief more than joy.
The striker grabbed Liam by the shirt. Noah spun round and pointed straight at Jamie, across the whole pitch. Finn shouted something at him that Jamie did not catch but felt.
Jamie clenched one fist for a second, hard, and then made himself open it and turn back toward his own half.
Not done. One–one against second was not the plan. Winning was.
Preston did not fall apart. Lucas Hartley clapped his hands twice, flat and calm, and told them to start again. Harvey Cole was already calling for the ball on the restart, wanting it back, wanting control.
After the goal the game opened up, but it did not turn wild.
Preston pushed for the ball again, because they were second and a draw at Tranmere was two points dropped to them. Tranmere believed they could win it now, and that belief was dangerous, because it pulled men forward.
Riley Shaw got greedier with his positioning. Once or twice he drifted right, into Jamie’s half-space, dragging Tranmere’s shape across with him and opening gaps somewhere else.
Jamie kept his head on a swivel and tried not to get pulled out of position by a player that clever.
Around seventy-three minutes, tired legs cost him.
Tranmere had a loose touch in midfield, and Jamie, already leaning forward, took off on the overlap too early, expecting Finn to win it and feed him.
Finn did not win it. Preston nicked it first, and the ball was gone before it ever reached Jamie’s run.
And Jamie was high, out of position, with grass behind him.
Preston switched it fast. Kieran was already sprinting into the space.
Jamie turned and chased.
His legs were heavier now, deep into the second half, and the gap did not close the way it had an hour ago. He got back, but late, too late to block it at the source.
Kieran whipped the cross in first time.
Isaac Monroe attacked it between the centre-backs, rising above them.
The header flashed just wide of the far post, and Tranmere’s keeper sagged against his post for a second.
Jamie stood there, chest heaving, and saw exactly how close his own tired run had come to handing Preston the lead.
Mercer was on him before the goal-kick was even taken.
"Jamie! Noah!" He jabbed a finger. "The run’s fine if we’ve got the ball. If it’s loose, cover first, then go. Don’t gamble on a fifty-fifty!"
Short. Sharp. Then he was on to the next thing.
Jamie nodded and filed it with the rest. Ball secure, go. Ball loose, hold. He had felt the cost of getting that wrong in his own burning legs.
The last ten minutes were a grind, and everyone felt it.
Callum was pressing on pure anger now, running at Preston players long after his legs should have quit. Noah started picking the safer pass, keeping the ball alive rather than forcing it. The centre-backs headed everything clear that came near them, and the striker chased long balls he had no chance of keeping, just to buy the team ten seconds.
Jamie had one more duel with Kieran.
This time he did not gamble. He showed him the outside, held his body between Kieran and the goal, and waited. He did not dive in. He delayed, and delayed, until Callum arrived to double him, and between them they forced Kieran back into his own half.
No tackle. Just patience, and it worked.
Preston got the last big go, deep into the time added on.
Harvey Cole recycled it, centre-back to midfield and back, working an opening. Archie Bennett came overlapping late this time. Kieran took it wide. And Riley Shaw drifted toward the edge of the box, quiet, looking for the slip pass into the gap.
Jamie tracked Kieran with his body while turning his head to find Shaw over his shoulder. Two threats at once. He could not commit to either.
So the team did it together.
Jamie delayed Kieran a fraction longer. Noah dropped into the channel behind him. And when the pass finally went inside toward Shaw, Mason stepped out at exactly the right moment and cut it out before Shaw could turn.
The ball broke loose.
Callum chased it down and hammered it into Preston’s half, just to burn the last seconds off the clock.
TWEET. TWEET. TWEET.
Full time. Tranmere 1, Preston 1.
Nobody went mad.
A couple of the Tranmere lads dropped their hands to their knees, half annoyed, because they had felt a win in there. Preston looked flat and irritated, standing with their hands on their hips, a team that had come for three points and left with one.
Mercer brought his boys in quick and kept it short.
"The point’s good," he said. "But that’s not why I’m happy. You went a goal down to the second-best side in this league and you didn’t panic. You answered it. As a team." He looked round them all. "That’s the thing to remember. Not the draw. The answer."
He did not single anyone out. He did not need to.Jamie walked off tired, shirt clinging to his back, sweat cooling on his neck, listening to the boys around him.
"Don’t think they enjoyed that second half much," Noah said, nodding at the Preston players trudging off.
"Should’ve beat them," Callum muttered, still not over it. "We should’ve won that."
Finn dropped in beside Jamie and gave him a quick nod, nothing more. The equaliser had come from their side, and both of them knew it, and the nod said it better than words would have.
Ethan was near the tunnel, having watched the whole thing from the bench, and he took the exchange in without saying anything, his face unreadable. The competition had not gone anywhere. It never did.
Jamie looked back at the pitch as Preston’s players walked away with their heads down.
And for the first time since arriving at Tranmere, a draw did not feel like standing still.
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