CHAPTER 87

When the players from both sides emerged from the tunnel, the home fans erupted into thunderous cheers for their team.

Compared to Kenilworth Road, Coventry's Ricoh Arena felt enormous. But now, Luton Town's historic Kenilworth Road was tucked in the heart of the city, surrounded tightly by residential streets, leaving no room for expansion. And with the club's current ownership struggling financially, there was little hope of either rebuilding or relocating. If the chairman could barely fund transfers, who could expect him to bankroll a new stadium?

John felt a flicker of nerves. This was the quarter-finals of the FA Cup—one win away from the semi-finals. For a lower-league side like Luton, just reaching this stage had already exceeded expectations.

"Can we really make it to the semis?" John asked, standing beside manager Ethan, both men applauding as the teams lined up.

"Not necessarily," Ethan replied, eyes on the pitch.

"Not necessarily?!" John echoed, startled. Was this the same man who vowed just days ago that they'd lift the FA Cup?

He was about to speak again when Ethan turned, noting the uncertainty on his assistant's face.

"John, there's no such thing as a sure thing in football. But even if we've only got a one or two percent chance, I'll give it everything."

"You mean we only have a one or two percent chance of beating Coventry?" John asked, his own confidence waning. Maybe it was the string of victories against bigger clubs this season, but part of him feared their fairytale run was due to end.

But Ethan wasn't fazed.

"No," he said, flashing a confident grin. "I mean we've got a one or two percent chance of winning the entire FA Cup!"

John blinked. One or two percent? That didn't sound very comforting. Yet Ethan's expression radiated such belief that, for a moment, it felt like winning was inevitable.

"John, do you know what matters most to me on the pitch?" Ethan asked, watching his players take their positions. He was sticking with a familiar 4-2-3-1, with Vardy leading the line as the lone striker. In a surprising move, the in-form Charlie Austin was starting on the bench.

John shook his head. It was impossible to predict what went on in Ethan's head.

"Hope," Ethan said firmly. "When I set a goal, no matter how slim the odds, I give everything I've got to make it happen."

"So… you're saying our hope of winning the FA Cup is only a glimmer?" John asked, half-joking.

"You're quick to catch the point," Ethan replied with a wry smile. "That was a figure of speech. We will win the FA Cup this season, John. And we have a damn good reason to do it."

He turned away, voice firm.

"If we lift the FA Cup, next season's transfer revenue will be reinvested—not sold off."

"You know what that means, right?"

John nodded. Of course he did. Just Charlie Austin alone had attracted bids of £4 million—an astronomical figure for a League Two side. And under Ethan's management, his players' value kept rising.

"Get ready for European football next season, John."

For the first time, John Aston saw just how far his manager's ambition truly reached…

"And the players have taken to the pitch!" roared Letterkinson in the commentary box, microphone in hand, his voice filled with anticipation.

The four FA Cup quarter-final matches were split across two days. The first kickoff featured a symbolic clash, with Luton Town hosting Coventry City — two teams outside the Premier League — while the other featured Liverpool at home to Fulham.

Both matches were scheduled for live broadcast on Sky Sports. Interestingly, their lead commentator, Letterkinson, specifically requested to cover the Luton vs Coventry match — the rare face-off between two non-Premier League sides at this late stage of the competition.

Letterkinson seemed genuinely curious: how far could this Luton side go in the FA Cup?

"The home team has fielded their strongest eleven!" he said, as the line-ups were announced. "Coleman's side hasn't been consistent in the Championship this season, but they've had a decent cup run. After knocking out Blackburn, Coventry have now reached the quarter-finals. In goal today is Westwood. The back four consists of White, Dann, Turner, and Hall. In midfield, it's Henderson, Gunnarsson, Doyle, and Eastwood. Up front, Best is partnered by Morrison."

Ethan, Luton's manager, had his eyes on one player in particular — Jordan Henderson.

If Ethan remembered correctly, Henderson was the promising young midfielder expected to eventually take over Steven Gerrard's role at Liverpool. A product of Sunderland's youth academy, the 19-year-old had been loaned to Coventry during the January transfer window to gain experience.

Of course, Henderson had no idea he was being scouted from the sidelines. Not that it mattered — Ethan wasn't seriously considering him. As a youth product from a Premier League club, Henderson would be out of Luton's reach. A permanent transfer would be nearly impossible.

Ten minutes into the match, the score remained level, but Ethan was already frowning on the touchline.

He glanced over at Chris Coleman, Coventry's manager. Was this guy really willing to abandon his Championship pedigree and play a defensive game against a League Two side? Coventry had clearly come to sit deep and counter. Instead of asserting themselves in midfield, they were content to absorb pressure in their own half and let Luton take the initiative.

"Coventry are... playing on the counter?" Letterkinson's voice echoed Ethan's surprise. "They really are sitting back. Coleman's gone for a conservative setup, letting Luton have the ball."

It was not what Ethan expected. Coventry, a second-tier club, had opted for a low block and conservative tactics against a fourth-tier opponent.

So much for Championship pride, Ethan thought. Still, he couldn't help but admire Coleman's pragmatism. A manager who knows when to swallow his pride can be dangerous.

Ironically, Ethan's own tactics were also built around a compact, counterattacking style — especially away from home. He had assumed Coventry would be the aggressors, which would allow Luton to hit on the break.

But with both sides playing cautiously, the match began to stagnate.

Luton had more of the ball, passing it around in the backline, but seemed hesitant to push forward. Ethan had told his players before the match: prioritize defense. Do not concede.

Now, with the ball at their feet and little pressure from Coventry, the players looked unsure. Should they press forward or stay cautious?

Ethan stood on the sidelines and gestured for calm, pressing his hands down. There was no need to rush. A goalless draw wasn't the end of the world — especially with a replay at stake.

This match had become a psychological duel between two managers. It was now a game of patience — and whichever coach blinked first might be the one to lose control.

Neither side was ready to abandon their game plan just yet.