Jin Hayes had always known his gift came with a price. The supernatural ball control, the ability to glide past defenders as if they weren't there – it had cost him his finishing. He'd accepted that trade-off. Being able to beat any player one-on-one was enough. Wasn't it?
But now, with Werder Bremen packing ten men behind the ball, parking a bus in front of their own penalty area, his individual brilliance was being neutralised. Space, his greatest ally, had vanished.
He received the ball on the right wing. A step-over sent left-back Pierre Wome stumbling. Before he could accelerate into the gap, left-winger Max Kruse – a defensive substitution, clearly instructed to shadow him – came flying in with a reckless tackle. Jin Hayes leaped, avoiding the worst of it, but the ball was gone. Kruse's momentum carried him past, no foul given.
In the commentary box, Scholl was incensed. "That's a yellow card! Clear as day! Kruse was brought on for one reason only – to stop Jin Hayes by any means necessary!"
On the touchline, Thomas Doll watched with mounting frustration. Bremen had abandoned any pretence of attack. They were camped in their own half, defending the draw. Dortmund pushed forward, but every passing lane was crowded, every attacking move smothered before it could develop.
The clock ticked past ninety minutes. Injury time. Four minutes added.
Jin Hayes looked around, assessing. His teammates were making runs, but the gaps were tiny, fleeting. A normal pass would be intercepted. A cross would be headed clear by Mertesacker or Naldo. Even if he beat his man again, there would be another defender waiting, and another.
What I need, he thought, is a pass that shouldn't be possible. A pass that finds a gap that doesn't exist. A pass like...
Like Xavi. Like Pirlo. Like De Bruyne, though the Belgian was still a teenager in Belgium, unknown to the world.
But I can't do that. My passing is just... adequate. Seventy percent success rate, maybe. Good enough to keep possession, not good enough to unlock a defence like this.
He kept running, kept probing. And then he felt it.
A warmth, spreading from his right foot, travelling up through his leg, flooding his body. It was the same sensation he'd felt when he first stepped onto the pitch at Everton, when the talent had awoken. But this was different. This wasn't overwhelming, disorienting. It was focused. Calm.
Every time I complete five dribbles, he realised. That's the trigger.
He'd lost count during the match, but he must have beaten his man a dozen times by now. And with each successful dribble, something was building. Accumulating. Evolving.
The next time the ball came to him, on the right touchline, deep in Bremen's half, he knew exactly what to do.
He shaped to cut inside, drawing two defenders. Then, with the outside of his right foot, he delivered a cross.
Not just any cross. This was different. The ball left his foot with a perfect combination of pace and spin, arcing in a trajectory that seemed to defy physics. It curved around Mertesacker, who leaped and missed. It dipped over Naldo, who stretched but couldn't reach. And then, at the far post, it dropped as if guided by an invisible hand, directly onto the foot of Alexander Frei.
Frei hadn't even been sure the ball would reach him. He'd made the run on instinct, hoping, but not believing. When the ball appeared in front of him, perfectly placed, he almost missed it out of sheer surprise.
But he was a professional. A Swiss international. His instincts took over.
His right foot connected cleanly, a powerful, first-time volley that screamed past Tim Wiese before the goalkeeper could react.
3-2.
The stadium detonated.
The sound was primal. Eighty thousand voices, united in a single, triumphant roar.
"ALEXANDER FREI! IN INJURY TIME! DORTMOND HAVE DONE IT!"
In the commentary box, Scholl was on his feet, his voice hoarse. "A NINETY-FIRST MINUTE WINNER! FROM TWO-NIL DOWN TO THREE-TWO UP! AND IT'S ALL DOWN TO THAT BOY! JIN HAYES! A FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD HAS DESTROYED THE SECOND-BEST TEAM IN GERMANY!"
The final whistle blew moments later. The stadium shook with celebration. Strangers embraced. Fans wept. The impossible had happened.
In the mixed zone after the match, Jin Hayes found himself surrounded. Cameras flashed. Microphones were thrust towards his face. He leaned against the sponsor board, looking slightly overwhelmed.
"Jin! Your first goal assist , in the six-yard box – why didn't you shoot? Most strikers would have taken that chance themselves!"
Jin Hayes hesitated. Because I would have missed, he thought. From one metre out, I'd have found a way to put it over the bar.
He chose a different answer. "Winning is more important than scoring. I saw Frei in a better position. It was the right decision."
Another reporter pushed forward. "And that cross at the end? The one that won the match? How did you manage to bend it like that?"
My talent evolved, he thought. I dribbled past enough players and something clicked.
He smiled, suddenly aware of the cameras. "There's only one secret. Hard work. Every day on the training ground, the sweat you put in – it comes back to you in moments like this. While others are resting, I'm practicing. That's all."
It was a good answer. Confident, humble, quotable. The reporters scribbled furiously.
The next morning, Jin Hayes's face was everywhere.
Kicker magazine led with his image and the headline: "THE MAGICIAN: 15-Year-Old Inspires Miracle Comeback." The match report inside gave him a rare 1.0 rating, describing him as "the absolute catalyst, the player who single-handedly shifted the momentum of the game."
Bild, never one for subtlety, went with: "IS THIS BOY GERMANY'S NEW MESSI?" accompanied by a series of photos capturing his dribbles, his crosses, his calm, focused expression.
Even Franz Beckenbauer, the Kaiser himself, mentioned him in his column for Sport Bild. "I have seen many young talents over the years. Most fade. Some succeed. But this boy, Jin Hayes, possesses something special. What impressed me most is not just his talent – which is extraordinary – but his work ethic. Talent alone is not enough. Talent combined with dedication? That is how legends are made."
Back in Dortmund, Maria Heinrich had already filled two scrapbooks. She was working on a third.
And thousands of miles away, in China, the news was spreading.
Sina Sports ran the headline: "15-Year-Old Chinese Prodigy Takes Bundesliga by Storm with Assist Hat-Trick."
Tencent Sports followed with: "Our Own Messi? Teenager's Dream Debut Rescues Dortmund."
Sohu Sports, more restrained but equally excited, posted: "Jin Hayes: The Spark of Hope in German Football."