"Gather around," Dawson said as the sun dipped behind the training dome.
He had finished his clipboard notes and called for quiet for what he had to say.
The Players heeded and gathered around the small whiteboard near the physio room.
Each player knew what was coming by the sheet Dawson held in his hand and everyone, especially the reserves and players with less standing in the team wanted their names to be on it.
Dawson tapped the list twice, the marker squeaking as he added two late names at the bottom.
"That's the squad," he said.
"Matchday Eighteen. Away kits, travel bags. Departure tomorrow morning at eight sharp."
Leo's eyes scanned the sheet.
He didn't need to read long — his name was there.
Again.
One line under Fletcher's.
Substitute.
Leo barely moved, but inwards, he was celebrating, the feeling of being added to the matchday squad for the second time.
Even if he didn't play, the atmosphere alone could compensate.
