The morning sun was still below the horizon over the town of Burton-on-Trent when the Cardiff City team bus pulled into the Pirelli Stadium. It was a chilly Monday morning, as the players filed out with their hoodies on and jackets zipped up. The first league match of the season was only a few hours away.
Ethan Voss walked with the squad, his duffel bag strapped to his shoulders, although his name wasn't on the list of playing XI, there was no expression of disappointment on his face or any evidence of frustration in his stride. He knew his time would come—today his name was on the teamsheet, and that was enough for now. A few years ago, he would have watched a game like this on TV, shouting at the screen with crisp packets in hand, so he was content with what the manager had planned for today.
Inside the dressing room, the atmosphere was a mixture of calm preparation and focused energy. Jerseys were hung neatly, numbers facing out, water bottles lined up along the benches. The players changed into their warm-up kits in silence, save for the low thrum of music playing from someone's speaker in the corner. The mood wasn't of nervousness, but it was serious. Everyone knew what today's match meant.
Warnock entered with his usual poise, calmly nodding to the staff and players present. "We warm up in twenty. Keep it sharp today, lads. No dragging feet, Burton are strong at home, and they'll want to hit early. We wouldn't be giving them that chance."
The team responded with a collective nod. Ethan then followed Aron and Joe Ralls out toward the tunnel, joining the group for warm-up. The stadium wasn't a big one, but the close proximity of the stands to box gave it a caged-in feeling. Early fans of Burton were already filtering in, and the hum of anticipation was slowly rising.
Ethan jogged onto the pitch with the others, stretching and loosening his limbs. The grass felt firm under his feet, and the sun had begun to peek from behind the clouds, casting long shadows across the pitch. The opposition players were already out, running drills on the far side. Burton's yellow and black kits were a stark contrast to Cardiff's green, away kit.
The coaching staff started putting them through short sprints, formation, and passing triangles. He stayed sharp, moving the ball quickly, calling for passes, keeping his mind on the practice even if his name wasn't on the first team today. His mind already alert—he wasn't going to be a spectator in this life; he will be the part of game this time.
Soon, the warm-up was over. Players returned to the dressing room one last time before kickoff. The starting XI sat on front benches as Warnock delivered final instructions.
"Keep up with the formation," he said, eyes scanning each player. "They'll press hard in the starting quarter of the game, looking for a gap. Don't give them one. Be patient, and when the space opens, hit them."
He turned briefly to the substitutes. "Stay warm, stay ready. You could be in at any moment."
Ethan nodded with others.
Starting XI - Cardiff City (4-3-3):
Goalkeeper: Neil Etheridge
Defenders: Joe Bennett, Sean Morrison (C), Sol Bamba, Greg Halford
Midfielders: Joe Ralls, Aron Gunnarsson, Nathaniel Mendez-Laing
Forwards: Kenneth Zohore, Jamie Ward, Junior Hoilett
As kickoff neared, the once-quiet Pirelli Stadium came to life. Burton fans raised their voices in fierce, unified chants, the echoes spilling over the stands like a rolling tide. Opposite them, Cardiff's small group of fans who have travelled for their away game, stood undaunted, shouting back with equal fervor, though their voices downed down, in front of yellow frevor. The air pulsed with anticipation.
Ethan was on bench among the other substitutes, his gaze sweeping across the pitch and to the crowd. Soon, the whistle blew, and the Championship season for them was officially underway.
The first half started at a blistering pace as Burton, true to Warnock predictions, Albions surged out with an aggressive high press that had the home crowd pitching their volume up in support. Cardiff however, absorbed the pressure well, their backline, anchored by the seasoned duo of Morrison and Bamba, who remained composed and reliant, clearing out threats. Aron Gunnarsson provided the steel to midfield as usual—breaking up plays by interceptions shielded the defence, and distributed the ball with precision. Each interception, each clearance, were met with encouraging shouts from the bench
Burton did get a chances in the 17th minute, when with a deflected cross ball found its way to their star strike Lloyd Dyer, but Etheridge made solid save by diving low to his right.
Ethan stayed alert on the sidelines, trying to track every run of Burton, watching the formation transition with each pass. It was a lesson in tempo, about when to push and when to pull back.
By the 30th minute, Cardiff had began to settle as they dominated possession, working the ball patiently. Ralls was orchestrating from the middle, sending levelled passes to their flanks and Hoilett was running down the left, trying cutting inside to shoot, whenever he got a chance.
Halftime arrived with the scoreboard still untouched.
Burton Albion 0 - 0 Cardiff City
Inside the dressing room, there was no panic. Warnock leaned into the whiteboard, analyzing space and encouraging patience. "They're playing fast and aggressive, but they're not smart. If we hold them up a bit more, and move the ball through the thirds, we'll soon find the gaps."
Ethan sat quietly, sipping from his bottle, eyes on the screen as clips from the first half played. He could see it too—the space opening wide on the counter, the fatigue just starting to creep into Burton's midfield.
He tightened his boots, ready.
Although today he might not get minutes, or maybe he would. But either way, he was in the game now. And the game had just begun.
Second Half:
Cardiff returned to the pitch with renewed energy. Starting from the whistle, their midfield pushed higher, and the full-backs began overlapping more aggressively. The intensity clearly shifted. Burton soon began to falter, their high press loosening, and their passes becoming interceptable.
In the 62nd minute, they finally got a chance.
It started with a clean interception by Gunnarsson in the midfield. Him nudged the ball toward Ralls, who took it in one-touch and fed it wide to Mendez-Laing. The midfielder, bursting down the right flank, and whipped a curling cross toward the six-yard box.
Kenneth Zohore met it perfectly—rising above two defenders and thudding the ball into the net with a commanding header.
Goal..
Burton Albion 0 - 1 Cardiff City (Zohore 62')
The fans in green erupted in celebration.
Zohore ran toward the corner flag near away fans section, pumping his fist as teammates swarmed him. On the touchline though, Warnock didn't celebrate—he barked orders, pointing at positions, reminding the team that the job wasn't done.
Ethan stood up and clapping and grinning. It was the kind of goal Cardiff had trained for all week.
The final half-hour was a tense affair as Burton threw on fresh substitutes, but Cardiff held their shape. Morrison and Bamba clearing every cross, and the midfield pressed in tight. As time ticked down, Cardiff slowed the game, controlling the ball, winning fouls, and taking the sting out of home crowd.
Soon the final whistle blew, and the scoreboard read:
Full-Time: Burton Albion 0 - 1 Cardiff City
It wasn't flashy game with high-scoring play. But it was three point win with a clean sheet, and that's a solid start one can get for the season.
"Good shift out there," he said, voice gruff as always. "We dug in and took our chance. That's what wins you games in this league. But don't let it go to your head. One win doesn't make a season. This..."—he jabbed a finger toward the Cardiff crest above the whiteboard—"this is just the first brick. We keep laying them over. Week in and week out."
Players nodded, Ethan sitting back on the bench, towel around his neck, listened to the chatter around him. He hadn't stepped onto the pitch today, but this win belonged to him too. The camaraderie, the grind, the belief—they were now his too.
He may not have played today, but he knew one thing for sure: soon, he would.
And when he did, he'd be ready.