The first round of the Champions League group stage was about to begin, with Hoffenheim playing an away match against Sevilla. As the plane landed at Sevilla Airport, the setting sun was casting its glow on the orange-red rooftops of this southern Spanish city, which was incredibly beautiful. Oliver looked out the window, the entire city seemed to be bathed in a golden hue, completely different from Germany's austere industrial style.
"How about it, kid? First time in Spain?" Captain Vogt patted his shoulder and asked with a smile.
Oliver nodded: "Yes, Captain, it's more beautiful here than I imagined."
Oliver hadn't been to many places. He had been to Netherlands, France, and Germany. The furthest he had been was his hometown, China, but he was still young then, just barely one year old.
"Of course!" Vogt raised his eyebrows proudly, "Sevilla is one of Spain's most charming cities. I'll take you guys to a good place tonight."
Vogt was known as the team's 'travel expert' at Hoffenheim. Whenever they played an away game, as long as it was a city he had visited, he could always find the most authentic restaurants and interesting attractions. This time was no exception.
"Listen up, guys!" Vogt clapped his hands in the hotel lobby, "Tonight, we're not going to the hotel restaurant. I'm taking you to taste real Sevilla cuisine."
"Captain, are you sure you're not taking us to eat those strange'specialties' again?" Amiri teased with a laugh.
Last season, during a friendly match in Portugal, Vogt had confidently taken everyone to eat 'Portuguese Stewed Tripe,' but besides himself, everyone else had frowned and barely managed to swallow it.
"This time it's absolutely reliable!" Vogt vowed, "When I came to Sevilla last time, I found a fantastic Tapas (a type of Spanish snack) shop, and the owner is my friend."
"Ah? Captain, where do you get so many 'friends'?" Gnabry couldn't help but ask.
"See, Serge, that's the Captain's charm," Uth interjected, "He can make friends anywhere."
In the evening, the team arrived at a small restaurant in Sevilla's old town. Wooden tables and chairs, warm yellow lighting, portraits of flamenco dancers hanging on the walls—everything here was full of Spanish charm. The owner, a warm middle-aged man, immediately opened his arms upon seeing Vogt: "Hey! Kevin, good to see you again!"
"Juan, you have to treat my teammates well tonight!" Vogt and the owner, Juan, embraced warmly.
Soon, plates of Tapas were brought to the table, along with pan-fried Iberian ham, garlic shrimp, fried calamari rings, gazpacho... The aroma was overflowing, making everyone's mouths water. There seemed to be a lot of delicious food, but the quantity of these delicacies, when averaged per person, was not much. Eating this was mainly to try something new, not to get full. At the same time, it was to let everyone experience the local customs of Sevilla. Vogt was well aware of this.
"This ham is amazing!" Gnabry took a bite, his eyes lighting up.
"This is the true taste of Spain," Vogt proudly raised his glass.
Oliver took a bite of the garlic shrimp. The tender shrimp meat, wrapped in rich garlic olive oil, made him reach for another.
"How is it, Oliver, better than German sausage, right?" Amiri asked him with a smile.
"Hmm, it really is. It's a completely different flavor, a different feeling from German sausage," Oliver nodded while eating.
"Oliver, you're half-Chinese. If you score tomorrow, you have to treat us to Chinese food," Uth suddenly suggested.
"No problem, but if there's no Chinese restaurant here, then I'll have to treat everyone when we get back to Germany," Oliver readily agreed.
"It's a deal then!" his teammates cheered.
After a simple meal, Vogt suggested a Sevilla city walk, to show everyone the night view of Sevilla.
"Sevilla Cathedral is the third largest cathedral in the world, and Columbus's tomb is inside," Vogt introduced like a professional tour guide, "There's also Plaza de España, and the lights at night are especially beautiful."
"Captain, you could actually consider being a tour guide after you retire," Amiri joked.
"Alright, then you guys better give me a tip," Vogt laughed heartily.
Sevilla at night was even more charming than during the day. The ancient cobblestone streets, the interplay of light and shadow under the orange trees, the sound of street performers' guitars—everything was intoxicating.
"This place is really suitable for a vacation," Gnabry sighed.
"Once we qualify from the group, we might have a chance to come again during the winter break," Vogt winked.
"Captain, are you putting pressure on us?" Uth asked with a smile.
"No, this is motivation," Vogt said seriously, "We are a young team, but precisely because of that, we should leave our mark in the Champions League."
Oliver listened, silently agreeing. Tomorrow's match was of great significance to Hoffenheim. It was the first step in Hoffenheim's Champions League group stage journey in its history, and Sevilla's home ground was always tough to play on.
On the way back to the hotel, Vogt suddenly stopped and turned to everyone, saying: "Guys, tomorrow is the match. I know everyone is excited, but you must get a good rest tonight."
"Don't worry, Captain," Amiri raised his arm to signal, "We won't let you down."
"I believe you, Amiri. By the way, Oliver, is your 'Pharaoh's Curve' ready?" Vogt asked Oliver.
Oliver smiled slightly: "Absolutely, Captain, 100%."
Indeed, it was 100%. Currently, Oliver had practiced the 'Pharaoh's Curve' skill to 100% proficiency. He couldn't guarantee ten out of ten, but there was a high chance of scoring eight or nine out of ten kicks. Back at the hotel, Nagelsmann met them in the hallway.
"Ha, looks like you guys had a good time?" the Coach asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The Captain took us to eat amazing Tapas," Schulz said excitedly.
"Well done, Vogt, it's good to relax before a match," Nagelsmann nodded, adding his final remarks to everyone.
"But, once you've enjoyed yourselves, it's time to focus. Tomorrow night's game, I want to see the same team spirit. Alright, everyone go back and rest. Tomorrow night, I want to see all of you in your fullest state!"
"Understood, Coach!" everyone said in unison.
...
The next day, 8 PM.
At Sevilla's home ground, Pizjuan Stadium, the lights illuminated the pitch as if it were daytime. Red and white flags on the stands surged like waves, and the songs of the Sevilla fans echoed through the sky. The lingering sound of the Champions League anthem had just faded when the referee blew the whistle to start the match.
The Spanish Commentator's voice was transmitted worldwide via the broadcast signal: "Welcome to the highly anticipated match of the first round of the Champions League group stage! Sevilla hosts Champions League newcomer Hoffenheim. This is a clash between two teams that favor attacking play. Let's look forward to an exciting match!"
After kickoff, Sevilla, as expected, took the initiative. Banega calmly orchestrated the attacking rhythm in midfield. Every touch of his carried the unique elegance and threat of a south american player. Saravia and Correa were like two sharp knives, repeatedly sprinting down Hoffenheim's flanks, trying to tear open the defense. Hoffenheim's two defensive midfielders, Demirbay and Amiri, were running ragged. They barely maintained the balance of the defense with their active running and precise interceptions. On the sidelines, Nagelsmann stood with his hands in his suit pockets, his brow slightly furrowed. The young Coach knew clearly that the team needed time to adapt to the intensity of Champions League-level competition, so there would definitely be a period of struggle at the beginning.
"Sevilla's offense is surging like a tide!" the Spanish Commentator shouted excitedly, "Hoffenheim's defense is facing a severe test!"
The home fans in the stands cheered with every attack, and when the away team's players got the ball, piercing whistles immediately filled the stadium. At this moment, Oliver seemed a bit isolated in the front field, but he wasn't impatient; instead, he constantly observed the changing situation on the field. The more this kind of situation occurred, the more he understood that against an opponent like Sevilla, a rash push forward would only put greater pressure on the backline; he needed to wait for the right counter-attacking opportunity.
As the match progressed to the 15th minute, Hoffenheim gradually stabilized their formation. Demirbay started to dare to pass forward, while Amiri created receiving points for his teammates with his flexible runs.
The Commentator noticed this change: "Hoffenheim is finding their rhythm again; their passing success rate has significantly improved. It seems Nagelsmann's team is adapting to the Champions League tempo."
Nagelsmann, on the sidelines, finally loosened his clenched fists. He turned and said something to his assistant Coach, his eyes gleaming with confidence.
The turning point came in the 28th minute when Correa attempted to break through Schulz on the left wing but was cleanly dispossessed by him. The Hoffenheim left-back didn't hesitate, sending a precise through ball to Gnabry, who was surging forward on the left. The Germany winger advanced with the ball like an arrow released from a bow, his speed making Mercado struggle to cope.
"Gnabry! A counter-attacking opportunity for Hoffenheim!" The Commentator's voice suddenly rose.
Gnabry completed a textbook one-two with Grillitsch on the left wing, completely shaking off the defenders' entanglement. At this moment, Oliver's brain was operating at high speed.
When he saw Gnabry advancing with the ball, he anticipated the possible direction of this attack. As a right-wing attacker, he didn't blindly push forward; instead, he first observed Sevilla's defensive line's positioning. The opposing center-back Kjær was vigilantly marking Uth, while the right-back Navas was drawn by his own midfielder Kramarić. This was a perfect open space!!!
Oliver suddenly accelerated, taking long strides, and with astonishing explosiveness, he diagonally cut from the right flank into the penalty area. His timing of the run was perfectly executed, placing him precisely in the weakest link of Sevilla's defense. Gnabry, upon breaking into the left side of the penalty area, looked up and keenly spotted Oliver's run. Without the slightest hesitation, the Germany left-winger delivered a precise long pass across half the field with his right foot. The ball traced a beautiful arc, soaring over the heads of three defenders, and landed accurately on Oliver's path.
"What a beautiful switch! Gnabry's pass was perfect!" The Commentator exclaimed.
Oliver, while running, gently tapped the ball with the outside of his right foot. This exquisite first touch made the ball obediently fall half a meter in front of him, perfectly avoiding the recovering Escudero. At this moment, only Sevilla's goalkeeper Rico remained in front of Oliver. His brain rapidly calculated the shooting angle and the positions of the defenders. Escudero was sprinting back with all his might, and Kjær was blocking the near post. In a flash, Oliver made his decision: he feigned a powerful shot to the far corner. This dummy caused Rico's center of gravity to shift slightly. Just as the goalkeeper adjusted his stance, Oliver, however, used the inside of his left foot to push a low shot, and the ball went straight for the near post! Although Rico made a desperate save attempt, his vision was blocked by his own defender, and he was ultimately half a beat too slow. The ball hit the net!
1-0!
"Goooooooal! Hoffenheim takes the lead away from home! Oliver scores a spectacular goal!" The commentary booth instantly erupted.
The Germany Commentator excitedly analyzed: "Look at the entire process of this goal! From Schulz's tackle, to Gnabry's advance and pass, and then to Oliver's perfect first touch and calm finish, this was a textbook fast break!"
Pizjuan Stadium instantly fell silent, with only the cheers from the away fans' stands being particularly noticeable. Oliver ran towards the corner flag, spreading his arms to embrace his teammates. Gnabry was the first to rush over and jump on his back, Amiri also followed to embrace him, and Vogt clapped him hard on the back. Nagelsmann, on the sidelines, uncharacteristically pumped his fist in celebration. This young Coach, known for his composure, knew the immense value of this opening goal away from home.
Meanwhile, Sevilla's Coach Machín's face was grim. He shouted loudly at the players on the field, clearly extremely dissatisfied with the defensive errors. However, the good times did not last long. After the restart, Sevilla showed the resilience of a La Liga powerhouse.
In the 38th minute, Nzonzi delivered a precise long pass from the back, finding Saravia, who was surging forward on the right. The Spain winger completed a one-two with Navas and then crossed from the byline. Schulz's clearance at the near post, however, accidentally missed the ball. The ball, as if by magic, fell to Banega at the top of the penalty area. The south american midfielder fooled the pressing Demirbay with a convincing feint shot. He then delivered a perfectly weighted diagonal pass with the outside of his foot, and Ben Yedder emerged like a ghost from a gap in the defense, Blasting shot into the top corner from a tight angle to score! This goal was impossible to save!
1-1.
"Gooooooal! Sevilla equalizes! Ben Yedder!" The entire Pizjuan Stadium instantly ignited, and the red tide in the stands surged madly.
The Spain Commentator excitedly shouted: "This is Champions League level football! Both teams scored a goal within just ten minutes, the pace of the game is suffocating! But I have to say, as Champions League newcomers, Hoffenheim has adapted very well."
The Germany Commentator regretfully pointed out: "Schulz's clearance error gave the opponent an opportunity; Hoffenheim's lead only lasted for ten minutes."
Nagelsmann on the sidelines shook his hand forcefully, but he quickly adjusted his emotions and gestured to the players on the field to remain calm. On the other side, Machín punched the air with a sigh of relief; this timely goal brought the game back to equilibrium. Oliver wiped the sweat from his forehead. He noticed that the Sevilla players' morale had significantly improved, and the rest of the match would be even tougher. In the final stages of the first half, both teams tried to score again, but neither could create absolute chances. When the referee blew the whistle for halftime, the score remained 1-1.
The Commentator summarized: "A spectacular first half! Hoffenheim took the lead with an efficient counter-attack, but Sevilla showed strong adaptability. The second half promises to be even more exciting!"
On their way to the locker room, Oliver and Gnabry were still discussing the goal.
Oliver put his arm around Gnabry's shoulder and said, "Serge, your pass was perfect; I didn't even need to adjust my steps."
Gnabry responded with a smile: "Come on, your run was the key; the timing was perfect."
Schulz, walking behind, seemed a bit self-reproachful, but Vogt patted him on the shoulder: "Don't think too much; we'll go again in the second half."
In the away team's locker room, Nagelsmann was writing and drawing on the tactics board.
"We did well in the first half, but we can do better." Nagelsmann's voice remained calm. "Sevilla's wing attacks are very threatening; we need to provide more protection in midfield."
He also specifically praised Oliver's goal: "Oliver, your counter-attack was very good. In the second half, we need to continue looking for such opportunities."
Meanwhile, in the home team Sevilla's locker room, Machín was giving an intense lecture: "We cannot let these Germans counter-attack so easily! The midfield must apply more pressure!"
He specifically instructed Banega and Nzonzi to strengthen their control over second balls. When the players walked out of the locker room again, the lights of Pizjuan Stadium were still bright. Fans in the stands welcomed the second half with songs and applause; everyone was looking forward to an even more exciting showdown. Oliver took a deep breath, adjusted his shin guards, and firmly stomped on the grass.
...
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