Lying on the ground, Wood stared blankly at the sky over Old Trafford, his mind blank. He did not know what had happened, but he could feel something warm flowing from his nose to his lips, and it tasted salty.
I'm supposed to playing, right? What's going on?
The sky over his head was getting smaller, and there were many people in the periphery. They were looking down at him.
He could recognize a few people; there was Demetrio, Roy Keane…
There was an uproar. Lots of sounds reverberated in his ears, and he could not hear what the people were saying.
While Wood was still lying on the ground and wondering what was going on, Keane was explaining to the referee that it was purely an accident. Who could know that his volley towards the goal would be blocked by George Wood, using only his face?
