"Relief for Arsenal," the co-commentator said with breath caught.
"That… was almost a brace for Isak. Inches away from 5–5."
Arteta finally turned to his bench and called towards Cuesta, and the next moment, all eyes turned towards the pitch.
"There he is," the commentator called as Izan rose.
"Finally, he is called upon."
The camera followed the movement—down the touchline, across the back of the dugout, to where Izan had peeled off his jacket and was jogging towards Cuesta.
The doctor approached, checking a few things with Izan as his name rolled off the away fans like thunder in a bottle.
"Izan, Izan, Izan!"
"You'd think he scored already," the co-commentator muttered as the fans kept on calling, the desire to close out the match seeping from their voices.
"Give him five touches," came the reply from his co-commentator.
"He just might," he continued.
Cuesta handed him a final note—a quick tactical detail.
Izan barely glanced at it.
