Blaise didn't even celebrate the goal unlike the first one. Instead, he took the ball from the goal and hurried to the center of the pitch for the game to resume as fast as possible.
Now, the Sheffield faithful that was downtrodden all night long were seeing the light at the end of a dark tunnel for the first time this whole game.
Because fifteen minutes is a hell of a lot of time to come back in football.
The players of Sheffield were now out for blood. From the low of a 3-0 deficit and being a man down, they have now pulled 2 goals back in less than half an hour. Confidence was at an all-time high for them.
They will not forget the fact that they only managed to do so because a certain someone was subbed in though.
Without him? They were a pile of hot rubbish.
Cameron can't take it anymore. His mind was a mess, since he still can't understand how Blaise Atkinson could change the complexion of a game this much even on a striker role. He's not even the main playmaker anymore! How come that when he came in, there's significant change on how the team played?
No use for such thoughts right now. There still is a game to be finished.
Upon receiving the ball near midfield, Cameron had already cooked up some sort of a hero ball play in his head. He's gonna try and make it happen.
He slowed his pace down to a jog, making the right back that's backtracking in front of him put his guard down a little. He tried luring him to go left with a sudden change of direction, but the defender didn't budge.
Cameron was about to get tackled when he saw a figure wearing the same black jersey on the corner of his field of vision. He instinctively gave up on his hero play and flicked the ball on to his teammate on the side, who then locked eyes with him for just a single moment, and then sent the ball moving into the huge empty pocket of grass on the left side of the penalty area for him.
All of a sudden, his muddled mind became clear. He finally had the answer to his own question.
Blaise was always where he's needed to be.
Ah… that's why the game feels very different every single time he's playing…
Cameron rushed over from the right back's blindside with the intention of either squaring it to the middle or cross it somewhere around the far post.
Lucky for him, when he's about to decide what to do, he saw the double team on Atkinson in the middle. Meanwhile, on the far post, Callum Rowe was already in a position to take the shot for him…
So he went for the far post cross, hoping that it'll be accurate enough to reach his junior's vicinity.
'Make it there.'
The next few seconds came by like a blur.
The cross was a little short, giving the keeper a chance to swipe it before the short Callum could ever get a foot in… but the spin on the ball made the Birmingham keeper blunder.
A few yards in front of him, without breaking his stride, Callum adjusted to the spin on the ball and smashed it at the first opportunity he could get.
Goal!
Callum Rowe was even sent to the ground by a last ditch effort by the goalkeeper, but he didn't even get a slightest touch on the ball to keep it out of his net.
Sheffield had equalized from 3-0 down!
"That was top drawer, kid!" Terry was the first to congratulate the lad.
"You went for style points, huh?" Blaise gave him a thumbs up.
"Thanks for the pass, bro!" That's what Cameron told Callum to call him.
"Fuck, don't tell me that! I saw that my cross was awful." Cameron meanwhile, was already criticizing his play even if it ended up as an assist.
Ryan Cassidy couldn't stop himself from pumping his fists in the air after his boys drew back level with six minutes to spare. He also couldn't stop his thoughts from wondering if they can actually steal a win from under Birmingham's noses…
No, he has to be practical here. Stealing a draw from 3-0 and a man down was already a fabulous result whatever angle anyone wanted to look at it.
But… how can he— a manager— stop at something like a draw?
So what if his boys are down to ten! They will fight tooth and nail for victory!
His team will only stop once the final whistle has been blown!
***
"That was a top class second half, lads! You did a wonderful job taking the game back for us." The gaffer was all smiles when he emerged from the tunnel and entered the noisy locker room. "Brilliant, lads, brilliant."
"We failed to win." Cameron's bluntness spoiled the jubilant manager's mood. "How's that brilliant?"
"Boss, what this oddball was trying to say was that we played like bums in the first half and just recovered in the second half." Blaise didn't wait for the manager to speak before clearing up what could be a big misunderstanding. "It's just that… Cameron knew we could've won if we didn't screw up in the first half."
"We didn't win, sure." The manager folded his arms on his chest. "But you guys had the fortitude to battle back against all odds. That alone is commendable to me."
"It's not enough, sir!" Cameron raised his voice again. "We still didn't win the game."
Blaise didn't know how to extricate his friend in this situation he so clearly wanted to put himself in. It's not like Blaise was an outsider to Okojo's fiery personality and the spats that came with it in his past life.
One such spats cost him a spot in England's World Cup team. His overbearing attitude also cost him a lucrative transfer deal to a foreign club, as well as several more opportunities for club and country.
Well, Blaise was here to nudge him on his wanted track: Victory.
Because in Cameron Okojo's book, there's nothing fancy about more than a hundred thousand per week wages, a regular spot in the Premier League, being the best player in the world— if you can't win games, and titles.
Nothing more than silverware is all that Cameron wanted for his career.
Winning is everything.
"We didn't win sir." Blaise all of a sudden echoed Cameron's sentiments, earning him the look of a lot of players inside the locker room. "We promise we'll grab the W next time."