Chapter 27 : Hiccup

The second half began with Leicester City seizing control right from the whistle. They moved with precision, Maddison and Tielemans dictating the tempo while Vardy prowled along the frontline, always ready to exploit the slightest lapse in Luton's defense. Rahmat stood on the sidelines, shouting instructions, his voice sharp and commanding.

"Lewis! Stay focused! Hubner, watch Vardy's runs!" he called out, hoping to settle his team's nerves.

Leicester's pressure paid off in the 53rd minute. A quick sequence of passes caught Luton's defense off-guard. Tielemans delivered a lofted ball into the box, which Vardy expertly controlled with his chest. Before Hamton could react, Vardy rifled a half-volley into the bottom corner.

"GOAL! Jamie Vardy gives Leicester the lead!" Martin Tyler announced. "It's clinical, it's ruthless, and it's exactly what we've come to expect from him."

The crowd at Kenilworth Road fell silent momentarily, stunned by the sudden turnaround. Rahmat clenched his fists but quickly urged his players to regroup. "Heads up, lads! We've been here before. Let's fight back!"

Barou responded to Rahmat's rallying cry with renewed vigor. His relentless energy began to inspire his teammates. In the 62nd minute, he forced a mistake from Leicester's defense, intercepting a wayward pass. With a burst of speed, he surged into the box, his muscular frame holding off two defenders before he unleashed a rocket of a shot. Schmeichel dived but could only graze the ball as it thundered into the net.

"BAROU AGAIN! It's 2-2!" Tyler's voice boomed. "This young man is Luton's talisman, dragging his team back into the game."

The crowd erupted, chants of "KING! KING!" filling the air. Rahmat allowed himself a small smile, but his focus remained unwavering. He knew the battle was far from over.

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Leicester didn't let the setback deter them. Brendan Rodgers made a tactical substitution, bringing on Harvey Barnes to exploit Luton's flanks. Within minutes, Barnes' pace and directness began causing problems. Rahmat urged Arhan to stay tight, but the relentless pressure soon bore fruit. In the 70th minute, Barnes cut inside from the left, sending a curling effort toward the far post. Hamton dove, but the ball slipped just beyond his outstretched fingers.

"Leicester takes the lead again! Harvey Barnes makes it 3-2!" Tyler narrated. "The young keeper could do little about that one."

Hamton sat in the goalmouth, his head bowed. The crowd's murmurs of support mixed with critical whispers, a cocktail of emotions that weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Rahmat, sensing his goalkeeper's growing self-doubt, called him over during a break in play. "Lewis, look at me," Rahmat said firmly. "Forget the crowd. Forget the scoreboard. Focus on the ball, on the next save. You've got this."

Hamton nodded hesitantly, Rahmat's words giving him a sliver of confidence to carry on.

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The clock ticked into the 80th minute, and Luton pushed forward with everything they had. Aoyama, calm under pressure as ever, began orchestrating the midfield, threading precise passes and controlling the tempo. He spotted a run from Hubner down the left flank and delivered a perfectly weighted ball. Hubner crossed into the box where Barou, rising like a phoenix, powered a header past Schmeichel.

"IT'S A HAT-TRICK FOR BAROU!" Tyler exclaimed. "This man refuses to let Luton go down without a fight!"

The stadium erupted once again, the home fans roaring with newfound hope. Rahmat's fists pumped the air in celebration, but his expression quickly turned serious. There were still ten minutes to play, and Leicester was far from finished.

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Leicester threw everything forward in search of a winner. Maddison, ever the orchestrator, began pulling the strings with even more urgency. Tielemans and Ndidi supported him, pressing high and forcing mistakes from Luton's tired midfield.

In the 88th minute, disaster struck. A misplaced pass from Callum gifted Leicester possession on the edge of the box. Maddison pounced, weaving through two defenders before sliding the ball to Vardy, who flicked it deftly to Barnes. With the goal at his mercy, Barnes made no mistake, blasting it into the roof of the net.

"GOAL! Leicester lead 4-3 in the dying moments!" Tyler's voice captured the heartbreak of the home fans. "It's devastating for Luton after such a brave performance."

The stands fell silent, save for the jubilant cheers from the away supporters. Hamton looked devastated, his hands on his knees as he stared at the turf. Rahmat, though visibly disappointed, clapped his hands and shouted, "Come on, one last push! We don't stop until the final whistle!"

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The final moments were frantic. Luton threw bodies forward, desperate for an equalizer. Barou came close, his header from a corner narrowly missing the target. Aoyama, with a last-ditch effort, sent a long-range shot skimming just wide.

As the referee blew the final whistle, the players collapsed to the ground, exhausted and heartbroken. Leicester's players celebrated their hard-fought victory, while Luton's supporters stood to applaud their team's valiant effort.

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In the locker room, the atmosphere was heavy. Rahmat addressed his players, his tone firm but compassionate. "You gave everything out there, and that's all I can ask for. We're not defined by this loss—we're defined by how we respond. Learn from this, grow from this, and come back stronger."

His words resonated, especially with Hamton, who nodded quietly, a glimmer of resolve returning to his eyes.

As Rahmat walked back to his office, he replayed the game in his mind, already planning how to address the gaps in his team. The road ahead was tough, but he knew one thing for certain: this Luton Town squad had heart, and that was the foundation upon which greatness could be built.

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The locker room was quiet the morning after the match against Leicester City. The loss lingered like a heavy fog, weighing on every player's shoulders. For Lewis Hamton, the sting was sharper. He sat alone in the corner, his head buried in his hands, replaying every mistake, every goal conceded. Despite Rahmat's words of encouragement, self-doubt gnawed at him.

The door creaked open, and Rahmat entered with his usual calm authority. He walked directly to Hamton, pulling up a chair next to the young keeper.

"Lewis," Rahmat began, his tone gentle but firm. "You were thrown into the deep end yesterday. It wasn't perfect, but you held your own. Now, we move forward."

Hamton lifted his head, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. "But I let the team down, Coach. Maddison, Barnes, Vardy—they exposed me. I couldn't stop them."

Rahmat placed a hand on his shoulder. "You weren't facing just anyone, Lewis. You were up against some of the best in the Premier League. Mistakes happen, but it's how you respond that matters. Wakabayashi saw something in you, and I do too."

Hamton's gaze flickered at the mention of the injured captain. "Do you think... he's disappointed in me?"

Rahmat smiled faintly. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"