Day 4 & 5 - February 18-19th:
The next two days blurred together in a cycle of training, eating, video analysis, and scrimmages. Marco's performances remained consistently excellent. His system tracked steady improvement:
[#Skill Progressions:
- Through Balls: 8.9 → 9.1/10 (Elite tier achieved)
- Game Reading: 7.8 → 8.2/10 (High-level competition accelerating development)
- Tactical Understanding: 8.1 → 8.5/10 (Classroom sessions + practical application)
#Current Overall Rating: 70.3/100 ]
* * * * *
Day 6 - February 20th: Final Evaluation Match:
The coaches announced it at breakfast: there will be a full 90-minute simulation match, Team A versus Team B, everything tracked and evaluated.
This was the final major assessment before individual meetings tomorrow.
Team was announced, and as expected, Marco was in Team A, playing as the left winger.
Marco felt the significance. Starting for Team A in the final evaluation, playing alongside Özil in the attacking three. This was the coaches saying: These are our guys.
The match kicked off at 4 PM under cloudy skies.
Team B came out aggressively, knowing this was their last chance. They pressed high, disrupted Team A's build-up, created early chances.
But it was futile. Clearly, Team A was the better team, both individually and as a team.
The match ended 3-1. Team A had controlled it comfortably. Marco scored a goal - in the third consecutive game.
The coaching staff huddled for twenty minutes afterward, clipboards out, deep in discussion.
Marco knew what they were deciding: which eighteen players would make the final squad for the qualifiers.
Day 7 - February 21st: Individual Meetings
The final day. Players waited in the common room, called one by one to meet with Coach Müller privately. Each meeting lasted about ten minutes.
The players who went in first came out with mixed reactions. Some smiled—they'd made it. Some looked devastated—they'd been cut. No one spoke about the details, respecting the privacy of individual conversations.
At 2 PM, Marco was called.
He walked to Müller's office, knocked, and entered. The coach sat behind a desk with a folder open—Marco's folder, full of notes and evaluations.
"Sit, Marco."
Marco sat, hands folded, waiting.
Müller reviewed the papers for a moment, then looked up. "You've had an excellent camp. Your technical quality is elite level—particularly your passing and vision. Your shooting has developed remarkably well, especially your weak foot. And you showed strong tactical understanding throughout the week."
Marco's heart hammered but he kept his expression neutral. "Thank you, Coach."
"You're also coachable. When we gave you tactical instructions, you followed them. But you also showed intelligence in knowing when to break the structure—like that assist yesterday, and both goals. That balance is rare at your age."
Müller nodded. "There are areas for improvement. Your crossing needs work—you're more dangerous cutting inside than delivering from wide. And you'll need to continue developing physically. You're fifteen, so that's expected."
"Yes, Coach."
Müller closed the folder and looked at Marco directly.
"Marco, we're provisionally selecting you for the U17 qualification squad."
The words hit like electricity. Marco was thrilled.
"Provisionally means it's not yet official. We have one more camp in late March, after the qualifiers, to finalize the squad for the UEFA Championship itself. But based on this week's performance, you've earned a spot in the eighteen-man roster for the qualifiers."
"Thank you, Coach. Thank you, very much."
"Keep working at Dortmund. We'll be watching your development. If you maintain this trajectory, you'll be with us for years." Müller stood, extending his hand. "Congratulations, Marco. You've earned this."
Marco shook his hand, barely trusting himself to speak. "I won't let you down, Coach."
"I don't think you will."
* * * * *
Marco left the office in a daze. Outside, Stefano was waiting, having already had his meeting.
"You made it?" Stefano asked, reading Marco's expression.
"Provisional squad. You?"
Stefano grinned. "Same. Right back position." They clasped hands, both grinning like idiots. "We did it, man. We actually did it."
Over the next hour, more results came in. Ron Zieler: Selected. Jérôme Boateng: Selected. Mats Hummels: Selected. Mesut Özil: Selected, obviously.
Of the thirty-two players at camp, eighteen would make it. Fourteen would be cut.
Later, as the selected players gathered for a final team dinner, Coach Müller addressed them.
"Congratulations to those who made the squad. You've earned this opportunity. The qualifiers are in three weeks. We'll reconvene March 10th for a short camp before the matches."
He paused. "To those who didn't make it: this isn't the end. Keep working, keep developing. Paths to the national team are different for everyone. Some make it at fifteen, some at nineteen, some never. What matters is you gave your best."
That night, players exchanged contact information. Marco swapped numbers with Özil (already done), Zieler, Boateng, Hummels, and several others.
"Stay in touch," Özil said, clapping Marco on the shoulder. "We're going to be doing this together for a long time."
"Yeah," Marco agreed. "We are."
March 1st was nine days away. The official contract signing, the moment when his Dortmund future became permanent.
And after that? The real journey would begin.
First team football. Professional contracts. The Bundesliga. Everything he'd dreamed of in his previous life, now within reach in this one.
Marco closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling him toward sleep.
Tomorrow, he'd start preparing for the next challenge. But tonight, just for tonight, he'd let himself feel satisfied.
He'd made it.
* * * * * *
The alarm didn't go off Tuesday morning because Marco had forgotten to set it. He woke naturally at 9:30 AM, disoriented for a moment before remembering: he was back at Dortmund, in his own room, and training didn't start until afternoon.
Coach Werner had given him two days of recovery after the national team camp.
"You pushed hard for a week," Werner had said Monday evening. "Your body needs rest. Light training only until Thursday."
Tim was already gone—off to morning training with the U17s. Marco stretched, feeling the accumulated fatigue in his legs, and checked his system interface:
[#Recovery Status:
- Muscle Fatigue: Moderate (48 hours rest recommended)
- Mental Fatigue: Low
- Injury Risk: Minimal
- Current Rating: 70.3/100
Recommendation: Active recovery today. Light jogging, stretching, proper nutrition. Resume full training Thursday.]
Marco showered and dressed, then headed to the dining hall. The usual breakfast crowd was smaller—most players were already training. He grabbed oatmeal, fruit, and coffee, then found a quiet table.
Suddenly his phone buzzed. He took out his old nokia phone and clicked.
A text from his mother:
Your father and I are coming to Dortmund Thursday. Coach Werner said they want to discuss your contract. Are you ready for this?
Marco smiled and typed back:
I'm ready. See you Thursday.
The contract. The official professional contract that would secure his future at Dortmund, transform him from academy player to professional footballer.
Yeah, that right. He passed the March Evaluation with flying colours.
The culmination of seven months of obsessive work.