The stadium rose up around them, all concrete and light. Bally and his dad climbed the steps, one hand on the rail, one arm around each other.
Bally climbed onto his dad's shoulders and grabbed the red scarf. The steps climbed higher until the pitch looked like a giant green blanket far below.
White shirts flashed past on every side — players running, boots thumping, the ball bouncing fast. A woman dropped her popcorn and it scattered everywhere. Bally laughed so hard he nearly slipped.
Leeds scored. The stadium shook with cheering. Bally bounced on his dad's knees and the red scarf bounced right along with him.
Three goals and counting — the whole stadium was shaking. Everyone was already on their feet, and the fourth goal was coming.
The ball flew into the net. The stadium exploded — whistles, flags, hundreds of voices singing at once. Bally leaped up with both arms high and the red scarf whipped around like a flag.
His dad squeezed him and shouted something loud and happy right into his ear. Bally couldn't hear the words, but he knew exactly what they meant.
They walked down the steps together, still holding hands. The sky was dark blue and the streetlights were flickering on. Bally rested his head against his dad's shoulder and smiled.