Dynasty Awakening: Building My Own Football Empire-Chapter 228: Whistle of Doom

The score was 1 to 0 for Barnsley. Manchester City was losing to West Ham. For ten beautiful minutes Michael Sterling felt like the King of England.

But football is not a fairy tale. Football is a soap opera written by a cruel writer.

And today the villain of the soap opera was wearing a yellow shirt.

His name was Referee Sharp. He was a small man with a very shiny bald head and a whistle that he loved more than his own family.

Minute 15

Barnsley were attacking. They wanted the second goal.

Lukas Weber the Berlin Wall intercepted a pass. He played it to Leo Stone.

Leo turned. An Everton midfielder named Onana jumped on Leo back. He literally hugged him like a koala bear.

Leo fell down.

The crowd waited for the whistle.

Silence.

Referee Sharp waved his hands.

"Play on!" the referee shouted. "No foul! He slipped!"

"Slipped?" Arthur Milton screamed from the bench. "He was wearing a backpack made of human! How is that a slip?"

Everton took the ball. They countered.

Calvert Lewin ran at the defense.

Diego Nunez stepped out.

"I stop you!" Diego roared.

Diego stood his ground. Calvert Lewin ran into Diego and fell over. It was a soft fall. A very dramatic fall.

PEEEP!

The whistle blew.

"Foul!" Referee Sharp shouted. "Free kick to Everton!"

Diego Nunez looked at the referee. His eyes were wide with shock.

"Mr Whistle Man," Diego said pointing at his own chest. "I did not move. He ran into me. I am a parked car. You cannot give a ticket to a parked car."

"Do not argue," the referee said touching his pocket. "Or I give you a card."

THE LOGIC BREAKS

Minute 22

The free kick came to nothing. But the mood had changed. The referee was giving everything to Everton.

Lukas Weber walked over to Michael during a throw in.

The German teenager looked confused. He was holding his head.

"Boss," Lukas said. "The algorithm is broken."

"What algorithm Lukas?"

"The referee," Lukas said. "I calculate a foul with ninety percent probability. He gives zero. Then he gives a foul for nothing. His logic is flawed. He is a glitch."

"He is not a glitch Lukas," Michael sighed. "He is just bad. Be careful. Do not let him ruin us."

THE PHANTOM PENALTY

Minute 28

Then the disaster happened.

Everton attacked down the right. Jack Harrison dribbled into the box.

Amara the Ferrari tracked back. He learned his lesson from the Chelsea game. He did not dive in. He just ran alongside him.

Harrison kicked the ball too far. It went out of play.

Harrison fell over. He tripped on the grass.

Amara raised his hands. "Goal kick!"

PEEEP!

Referee Sharp pointed to the spot.

PENALTY.

The stadium erupted in anger. 40,000 people stood up and shouted things that cannot be written in a book.

"NO!" Michael screamed running to the fourth official. "He tripped on the air! There was no contact! Check the VAR!"

The referee put his finger to his ear. He listened to the VAR room.

The stadium waited.

"Check it," Arthur prayed. "Please look at the screen. Amara was social distancing. He was miles away."

The referee nodded. He listened.

Then he pointed to the spot again.

"Penalty stands."

"WHAT?" Diego Nunez shouted. He ran to the referee. "Are you seeing ghosts? Who tripped him? The Invisible Man?" 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Sergio Ramos pulled Diego away before he got a red card.

"Calm down Diego," Ramos said. "We have to save it."

Calvert Lewin stepped up.

Jan Visser stood on the line. The Flying Dutchman looked angry.

Calvert Lewin shot. Hard and high.

Jan Visser guessed the right way. He touched it.

But the power was too much.

GOAL. Barnsley 1. Everton 1.

The air went out of the stadium.

THE CITY NEWS

To make matters worse Arthur Milton tapped Michael on the shoulder.

Arthur looked pale. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Boss," Arthur whispered. "Bad news."

"What?"

"City," Arthur said. "De Bruyne just scored. It is 1 to 1 at the Etihad."

Michael felt a cold shiver.

If City won and Barnsley drew then City would be champions.

"We need to score," Michael said. "We need to win this game. Forget the referee. Forget City. Just score."

Minute 38 Barnsley poured forward. They were angry. They played with fire.

Jean Luc Dubois won a header. He smashed the ball against the bar.

Then Everton cleared it.

They kicked it long. A hopeless ball.

Tom the young defender was there. He controlled it.

But then he slipped. The wet grass claimed another victim.

The ball rolled to Dwight McNeil.

McNeil was thirty yards out. He did not look dangerous.

He hit a cross. It was not even a shot. It was a bad cross.

The ball floated in the air. The wind caught it.

It swerved.

Jan Visser took a step forward to catch it.

The ball dipped over his head.

It hit the post.

It bounced out. It hit Jan Visser on the back of his head.

And it bounced into the goal.

GOAL! Everton 2. Barnsley 1.

It was the ugliest goal in history. It was a comedy goal.

Michael stood frozen.

"You have to be joking," Michael whispered. "A penalty for a ghost. And now a goal off the goalkeepers head."

Diego Nunez sat on the grass. He looked at the sky.

"The football gods are drunk," Diego said sadly. "They are drinking bad wine today."

HALFTIME DESPAIR

The whistle blew for halftime.

BARNSLEY 1 - 2 EVERTON

The players walked off. They were furious. They were surrounding the referee.

"You are a thief!" Amara shouted. "You stole my clean tackle!"

"Go inside!" Michael ordered. "Do not get sent off!"

In the locker room the mood was toxic.

Arthur Milton kicked a water bottle. He missed and hurt his toe.

"Ow!" Arthur hopped around. "Even the bottle attacks me! Everything is against us!"

Michael looked at his team.

They were losing the title. Not because they played bad. But because the universe was conspiring against them.

Lukas Weber was staring at the wall.

"Statistically impossible," Lukas muttered. "Two goals from an xG of 0.1. It is an anomaly."

"It is a robbery!" Diego shouted. "I want to call the police!"

Michael slammed his hand on the table.

"Stop crying!" Michael shouted.

The room went quiet.

"Yes. The referee is terrible. Yes. The second goal was lucky. So what?"

"Are we going to lose the title and say Oh it was not fair? Nobody cares about fair! They care about the trophy!"

"We have forty five minutes. We need two goals. I do not care if the referee tries to tackle you himself. We score anyway."

"Victor," Michael looked at Osimhen. "Stop complaining about fouls. If he holds you drag him into the goal with you."

"I will," Osimhen promised. "I will carry him like a backpack."

"We go to 3 at the back," Michael said. "Amara push up. Leo push up. Total attack. We die on the pitch today."

The second half started. Barnsley came out like mad dogs.

Minute 48

They won a corner.

The crowd was screaming. They tried to lift the team.

Leo Stone whipped it in.

Jean Luc Dubois rose. The Tank.

He headed it down. Pickford saved it.

But the rebound fell to Diego Nunez.

Diego smashed it into the net.

GOAL!

The stadium exploded. 2 to 2! Hope was alive!

Diego ran to the corner. He ripped off the corner flag.

PEEEP!

The whistle.

Michael looked at the referee. He was waving his arms.

"NO GOAL!" Referee Sharp shouted. "Foul by Dubois!"

"WHAT?" Michael screamed. "He jumped! He did not touch anyone!"

The replay on the big screen showed Jean Luc jumping. His hand brushed the defender shoulder. It was nothing. It was a contact sport.

But the referee refused to look.

"No goal," he said. "Free kick Everton."

Diego Nunez dropped the corner flag. He looked like he was going to cry.

"Why?" Diego shouted. "Why do you hate joy? Are you allergic to happiness?"

Minute 50 The game restarted. The goal was cancelled.

The score remained 1 - 2.

And then the final hammer blow came from the radio.

Arthur Milton took his earpiece out. He looked defeated.

"Boss," Arthur said softly. "City scored again. Haaland. It is 2 to 1 for City."

Michael looked at the scoreboard.

Fifty minutes gone.

They were losing. Their goal was stolen. Their rival was winning.

The rain started to fall again. Cold hard rain.

It felt like the end.

Michael looked at his players. They looked broken. They were fighting an enemy they could not beat. A man with a whistle.

"It is slipping away," Arthur whispered. "The dream is slipping away."

Michael clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.

He looked at the referee who was smiling as he booked Sergio Ramos for arguing.

"No," Michael growled. "Not like this. We do not end like this."

He turned to the bench.

"Jamie," Michael said to Vardy. "Get warm. We are going to cause a riot."

The title was hanging by a thread. A very thin wet thread. And the scissors were in the hands of Referee Sharp.