Leon's mind was a 'static-filled-void'. He had 'no-thoughts'. He had 'only-vibrations'.
He opened his mouth. He closed it.
He did the only 'human-thing' he could. He let out a 'short, sharp, panicked-laugh'.
"Wow," he 'gasped', his voice 'a-full-octave-higher' than usual.
"Wow. Sunderland. That's… that's 'massive', isn't it?"
He 'gestured-vaguely' to his 'buzzing-pocket'. "Sorry," he said, 'looking-at-the-host'. "My phone… I think my 'team'… my 'players'… I think they just 'found-out'."
The host 'grinned'. This was 'gold'. This was 'magic-of-the-cup-live-on-air'.
"They're… they're an 'incredible-bunch'," Leon 'stammered', the 'panic-fading', the 'pride-taking-over'. "We've got a 'baker'. We've got a 'Badger'… well, he 'works-in-a-call-centre'… 'The Mountain'… he's a 'student'…"
