The whistle for the second half cut through the muggy air above Pizjuan Stadium. As the players switched sides, the stands erupted with even more fervent cheers than in the first half, whether for Sevilla or Hoffenheim.
"Take down this Bundesliga minnow!!!"
"Let these Spaniards see what we're made of!!!"
Neither side's fans intended to show mercy. The Sevilla stands surged with a red human wave, as they firmly believed their home team could turn the tide in the second half. The German Commentator keenly observed, "Hoffenheim's players' jerseys are completely soaked; Sevilla's humid, muggy weather is becoming an invisible opponent."
Nagelsmann stood on the edge of the technical area, constantly gesturing for his players to maintain the distance between their three lines, while Machín stood with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on every detail on the field.
In the 53rd minute, the situation on the field suddenly changed. When Navas won a corner kick on the right wing, the entire stadium instantly erupted. Sevilla fans sang their team anthem in unison, knowing this was an excellent opportunity to break the deadlock.
"Watch the near post!" Hoffenheim's goalkeeper, Baumann, roared, his voice cutting through the noise, but the scales of fate had already tipped.
Navas's corner kick, carrying a strong spin, flew towards the near post. Nzonzi, like a beast unleashed, soared into the air in the instant Hübner was momentarily dazed, overpowering Vogt to flick the ball towards the far post. Ben Yedder appeared like a ghost in front of Schulz, and a delicate flick sent the ball into the net.
1-2.
"Gooooooal! Sevilla takes the lead!" The Spanish Commentator's voice was hoarse with excitement. "A textbook corner kick combination! Nzonzi and Ben Yedder tore apart the Germans' defense with a header relay!"
Pizjuan Stadium instantly transformed into a sea of joy, with red confetti showering down from the stands. The Hoffenheim players exchanged glances; Vogt furiously pounded the turf, and Hübner stood rooted to the spot, holding his head. Nagelsmann turned and spread his hands towards his assistant coach, his face full of bewilderment, as this set-piece defensive error could have been avoided.
Oliver had not anticipated such an unfavorable start to the second half. His peripheral vision caught the sight of the wildly celebrating Sevilla players, and he noticed that the opposing center-back, Kjær, was gesturing to his teammates, clearly setting up special marking to target him. Oliver secretly noted this detail, knowing that the rest of the match would be even more challenging. Trailing, Hoffenheim began to proactively seek changes.
In the 60th minute, Nagelsmann substituted the exhausted Schulz with Akpoguma, a change that proved remarkably effective fourteen minutes later.
In the 67th minute, Amiri, after receiving the ball in midfield, suddenly changed direction to evade Banega, keenly spotting an open space on the right wing. Oliver had already scanned the situation before receiving the ball: Escudero was eyeing him menacingly, and Banega was tracking back, a typical double-team trap. However, a subtle smile appeared on his lips; this was exactly the opportunity he had been waiting for.
"Here!" Oliver raised his hand to call for the ball.
When the ball rolled to his feet, he feigned a forceful run down the wing, a realistic dummy that made both defenders lunge towards the outside line simultaneously. In a flash, he flicked the ball behind him with his heel, and the onrushing Akpoguma delivered a precise cross completely unmarked.
"A genius combination!" The German Commentator exclaimed in admiration. "From observing the situation to making the decision, Oliver's handling of that play was absolutely brilliant! There's a reason why this kid keeps scoring goals!!!"
The ball arced perfectly through the air, and Uth, like a cheetah lying in wait, suddenly burst out from Lenglet's blind spot. The Sevilla center-back didn't even have time to jump, only able to watch as Uth powerfully headed the ball into the far corner.
2-2!
"Gooooooal! Hoffenheim equalizes!" The German commentator was incoherent with excitement. "A goal from Uth! An assist from Akpoguma, but at least half the credit for this goal must go to Oliver's brilliant pass!"
Nagelsmann, on the sideline, uncharacteristically sprinted dozens of meters to celebrate. As he turned, he saw Machín angrily shouting at his players on the field. The roar from Pizjuan Stadium instantly diminished, with only the blue section of the away fans wildly celebrating.
Oliver, Uth, and Akpoguma were surrounded by their teammates. Amiri shook Oliver's shoulder, shouting, "My God, do you have eyes in the back of your head?!"
Uth pointed at Oliver and made a "pointing to the brain" gesture towards the camera, a gesture that elicited waves of good-natured laughter from the stands.
The Sevilla players, meanwhile, exchanged bewildered glances, unable to understand why Oliver always managed to find the weakest links in their defense. The subsequent match entered a white-hot phase.
In the 73rd minute, Machín made a desperate move, bringing on a third striker and switching to a 3-4-3 formation for an all-out attack. This adjustment nearly paid off five minutes later, as Saravia's powerful shot from the top of the box struck the crossbar, and a deafening sigh echoed throughout the stadium.
The German Commentator said with lingering fear, "The goal frame saved Hoffenheim! Baumann had completely lost his balance just now! That was too close!!!"
Nagelsmann immediately responded, issuing instructions to his players on the field. He signaled Vogt to drop back to form a five-man defense, while also instructing Grillitsch to retreat and form a double pivot with Demirbay.
This temporary tactical change showed its effectiveness again in the 82nd minute when Ben Yedder had a one-on-one opportunity, and Baumann made a solid save to keep his goal intact. The match entered its final ten minutes. Both teams' players were nearing their physical limits, but the score remained tied at 2-2.
Oliver's socks were covered in grass stains, and his breathing was heavy, like a bellows, but his mind was exceptionally clear. The more intense the situation, the faster his mind worked.
In the 87th minute, when Baumann launched a long goal kick, Oliver suddenly realized this was the last chance. Uth skillfully headed the ball back in a header duel with Lenglet in the attacking third. The moment Gnabry received the ball on the left wing, Oliver's tactical intuition began to send frantic warnings: Sevilla's defense was shifting en masse to the right! As the German winger advanced with the ball, Oliver deliberately slowed his pace and stayed on the right wing. This subtle positioning adjustment put Kjær in a dilemma.
"Gnabry breaks through! Triple-team!" The Commentator's voice suddenly rose.
Just as all defensive attention was drawn to the left, Oliver suddenly burst into a sprint, calling for the ball again!! Gnabry's cross was perfectly placed. Oliver had already thought it through before receiving the ball: the opposing defender, Kjær, habitually defended against his left-footed cut-in, and would certainly block the inside lane at this moment.
"Oliver!" Gnabry shouted, delivering a high-speed cross.
The moment the ball rolled to his feet, Oliver made a choice that stunned the entire stadium: after trapping the ball with his right foot, he then lightly flicked it with the outside of his foot. This unexpected change of direction completely threw off Kjær, who was defending him.
"Oliver is cutting inside! Oh my god, which foot will he shoot with?" The Commentator's voice was filled with doubt.
Sevilla's goalkeeper, Rico's, positioning revealed a fatal error; he instinctively moved half a step towards the near post, a natural reaction against a right-footed player. Oliver spotted this subtle change and, with his body almost losing balance, curled an exaggerated out-swinging shot with his non-dominant left foot. The ball arced through the air in a trajectory that defied physics, as if controlled by an invisible hand, bypassing Rico's desperate fingertips, and finally striking the inside of the far post before bouncing into the net.
3-2!
"Gooooooooooal! A last-minute winner! A weak-foot curler!!! An incredible goal! A goal from the hard-nosed kid!!! This goal holds as much precious significance as his winner against Liverpool!!!" All language versions of the commentary booths exploded simultaneously.
"The 17-year-old youngster, Oliver, has scored an artistic last-minute winner with his weak foot!"
Pizjuan Stadium fell into a deathly silence, with only the away team's bench erupting in deafening cheers. Nagelsmann kneeling and pumping his fist was captured by the cameras, while Machín stood frozen in place. During his celebration, Oliver reversed his jersey, bringing his name to the front. He pointed to his jersey number and name towards the Sevilla home crowd.
"OLIVER 17."
Sevilla fans were certainly not happy to watch, but they had no choice but to. Slow-motion replays from German television showed that Oliver's eyes remained fixed on the goalkeeper's positioning at the moment of the shot. This detail earned the Commentator's admiration:
"That last-minute winning shot was not accidental, but a precisely calculated missile strike! Oliver thought through every step from receiving the ball to shooting! Such footballing intelligence in a 17-year-old is truly rare!!!"
When the fourth official held up the electronic board showing 2 minutes of added time, Sevilla fans finally recovered from their shock, using their last reserves of energy to create a roar. But the Hoffenheim players were united; Vogt blocked the final cross like a wall, and Baumann came out to collect the last corner kick. The moment the final whistle blew, the entire away team's bench rushed onto the field. Oliver was tossed high into the air by his teammates, and everyone was celebrating. Post-match statistics showed that Oliver covered 11.3 kilometers in the match, with 28% of that distance being sprints in the final ten minutes.
This data earned the Commentator's respect: "Not just his technique, his professionalism is equally admirable."
Nagelsmann was also delighted, but he was more concerned about his protégé's physical condition. The first thing he did after the match was to have the team doctor give Oliver a quick check-up. Fortunately, Oliver's physical condition was indeed not a major issue. In the mixed-zone, a sweaty Oliver was surrounded by reporters.
When asked about his thoughts on the winning goal, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and smiled, "Hmm… the second goal? I saw the opponent defending my right foot, and the goalkeeper's positioning was also biased towards the near post, so I tried a weak-foot shot."
Behind this understated explanation lay countless hours of training video analysis and muscle memory development—experience Oliver had "rolled" out of.
After the match, Nagelsmann also praised his protégé again at the press conference: "Oliver's football IQ is definitely top-tier. The thing he does most on the field is always being in the right place at the right time."
After everything was over, as Oliver walked towards the team bus, he saw some Chinese fans holding national flags waiting near the bus. They held up their jersey numbers and name cards; these fans included both adults and children.
Oliver walked over to sign autographs and take photos with the fans. A little boy timidly asked, "Ollie, how can I kick a curved shot like your second goal?"
After signing his autograph, Oliver crouched down to be at eye level with the child: "Little friend, first learn to observe with your eyes, then learn to think with this."
He pointed to his temple, then lightly touched the little boy's left chest. "Finally, don't forget the love for football here, and I believe you can also kick such a shot."
This heartwarming scene was captured by the accompanying reporter. Oliver bid farewell to his hometown fans and embarked on the journey home with his teammates.
...
Only 1 Chapter today. Sry guys.
If you want to read chapters ahead with daily uploads and to support me subscribe to my P*tr+-n below
p*tr+-n.com/Not_Thor
( *=a ; -=o ; +=e )
Also join my D!sc0rd
Invite code: BcnJNygFc9
...
