CHAPTER 41: APEX UNITED VS CARDIFF CITY (1)

The away dressing room at Cardiff City Stadium, already tense, was thrown into a state of quiet chaos.

James Pearce, a model of AI efficiency, simply nodded and relayed the instruction.

Josh Sargent, who had been mentally preparing to lead the line, looked utterly bewildered.

David Kerrigan, who had been expecting a comfortable spot on the bench, looked like he’d just been told he’d won the lottery.

"Gaffer, a word?" Grant Hanley said, pulling Ethan aside as the other players started their final preparations. "Sargent is our hold-up man. He’s physical. Kerrigan is... well, he’s Kerrigan. Are you sure about this? Against a team like Cardiff?"

"I’m sure," Ethan said, his voice low but firm. "My intel says their manager plays a high line in the cup. He’s going to underestimate our pace. I don’t need a hold-up man; I need a missile. I need someone who will run in behind them all night long."

He walked over to the now-starting David Kerrigan, who was practically vibrating with a manic energy. "David," Ethan said, his voice cutting through the winger’s excitement. "You’re not on the wing tonight. You’re playing as a central striker. Your only job is to run. The second we win the ball, you run into the space behind their defenders. Don’t come looking for the ball. Don’t try to dribble past five players. Just run. Emre will find you. Got it?"

Kerrigan’s cocky smirk was replaced by a look of intense, predatory focus. "Got it, gaffer. They won’t even see me."

As the teams lined up in the tunnel, the noise from the home crowd was a deep, intimidating roar.

The Cardiff players were huge, seasoned professionals who looked down at the youthful Apex side with expressions of mild amusement.

"Look at the size of their number nine," Jonathan Rowe whispered to Kenny McLean. "He looks like he eats defenders for breakfast."

"Then don’t let him get the menu," McLean grunted back, not taking his eyes off the pitch ahead.

David Kerrigan stood at the front of the line, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He looked over at Emre Demir. "You find me, I’ll finish it."

Emre just gave a slight, confident nod. "Just run."

The teams walked out. The Cardiff City Stadium was a sea of blue, a stark, hostile contrast to the all-black away kits of Apex United.

"A very good evening from the Welsh capital for this first-round clash in the EFL Trophy!" the commentator announced. "Cardiff City, in their famous blue, are heavy favorites tonight against the League One newcomers, Apex United. And it seems Apex manager Ethan Couch has thrown a real curveball with his lineup! The hero of the last match, Viktor Kristensen, is on the bench, as is the veteran Josh Sargent. Starting up front is the volatile but talented 18-year-old, David Kerrigan! A huge gamble on a big stage for the young manager!"

The whistle blew.

From the first kick, Ethan’s ’Managerial Instinct’ was proven right.

Cardiff’s defensive line pushed up to the halfway line, squeezing the pitch, confident that their superior midfield would dominate possession and snuff out any attacks.

Ethan’s plan was just as clear.

The moment Apex won the ball, they looked for one pass: the long ball over the top for Kerrigan.

In the 4th minute, Hanley won a header and immediately launched a searching ball forward. Kerrigan was off like a shot, but the pass was slightly overhit, and the Cardiff keeper came out to claim it.

In the 9th minute, a quick interception from Sørensen was followed by a through-ball from Emre. Kerrigan was in a footrace with a defender.

He was faster, but the defender used his experience, nudging him off balance just enough for the ball to run through to the keeper again.

"It’s on! The space is there!" Kenny McLean yelled, encouraging his teammates.

But while the plan was sound, the execution was lacking. And in the meantime, Cardiff City, the superior Championship side, began to play.

Their midfield trio was strong, composed, and utterly dominant.

They passed the ball with an easy confidence, pulling the Apex players out of position.

In the 18th minute, a swift passing move saw their winger get to the byline and cut the ball back. Their star midfielder met it with a powerful first-time shot that forced a brilliant, sprawling save from Angus Gunn.

"Wake up! Track your runners!" Hanley screamed, his face a mask of fury.

The Apex players were chasing shadows.

The game was being played entirely in their half. Ethan stood on the sideline, his hands in his pockets, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach.

The high line was a weakness, yes, but it was predicated on his team being able to get the ball first.

In the 26th minute, the pressure finally told. Cardiff worked the ball down the right flank.

Their full-back overlapped and delivered a perfect, curling cross into the box. Their number nine, the man who looked like he ate defenders for breakfast, rose majestically above Ben Gibson, hanging in the air for what felt like an eternity before powering a header into the top corner.

Gunn didn’t even move.

1-0 to Cardiff.

The home crowd erupted.

The Apex players looked at each other, a sense of weary inevitability on their faces.

"And there is the breakthrough!" the commentator announced. "A goal of real quality from Cardiff City! A pinpoint cross and a striker’s header of immense power! The Championship side has the lead, and you have to say, it’s been coming."

Ethan’s gamble had put his team on the front foot, but it had also left them vulnerable. Now, they had to chase the game.

And that’s when things went from bad to worse.

From the restart, Apex, trying to force a quick response, got sloppy.

A square pass from Kenny McLean was lazy, easily intercepted by a Cardiff midfielder.

In a flash, they turned defense into attack.

The midfielder drove forward, slid a pass between Hanley and the left-back, and their winger was in on goal.

He took one touch to steady himself and, with a clinical, ruthless finish, smashed the ball past Gunn at his near post.

2-0.

The goal came less than two minutes after the first. It was a brutal, one-two punch that knocked the wind out of Apex United completely.

The home fans were delirious.

The Apex players just stared at the ground, a look of shell-shocked disbelief on their faces.

"It’s two! An absolute disaster for Apex United!" the commentator yelled, his voice filled with a mix of shock and excitement. "A catastrophic error in midfield is pounced upon, and Cardiff have doubled their lead in the blink of an eye! Ethan Couch’s high-risk gamble to start the pacy David Kerrigan has backfired in spectacular fashion. They are being completely outclassed here. Thirty-five minutes gone, and their cup dream is already turning into a nightmare."

Ethan stood in his technical area, the roar of the home crowd washing over him.

He looked at his players, their heads bowed, their confidence shattered. He looked at his bench, at the young, unproven faces staring back at him. His plan, his brilliant insight, had led them directly into an ambush.

He was down 2-0, away from home, against a superior team, and his own team’s morale was at rock bottom.

He had never felt more alone.