The week between contract signing and national team camp passed in a blur of training and preparation.
Marco returned to full intensity Thursday, his body recovered from the previous camp, his mind sharp with renewed purpose.
He was no longer just an academy prospect. He was a professional footballer with a contract, a squad number, and representation. The mental shift was subtle but significant.
It was showing in his performance at training. He is now more calm, confident and more motivated.
Coach Werner noticed it immediately during Friday's training session.
"You're carrying yourself better, good," Werner observed as Marco finished a passing drill with perfect precision.
Marco knew why exactly.
It was the clarity - knowing where he stands. He was clear about his present and future, that he is at the beginning of a long journey.
Saturday morning, Tim helped Marco pack for the national team camp.
"How long will you be gone this time?" Tim asked, folding one of Marco's training shirts.
"Ten days. March 10th to 20th." Marco checked his list. "There are three qualifying matches against other European teams. If we do well, we can advance to the main UEFA Championship tournament."
"Are you a starter there?"
"Don't know. I'm competing with others for the second attacking spot." Marco zipped his bag.
"But I proved myself last camp. Should get significant minutes."
"You'll start. I know you will." Tim's confidence was absolute, as always. "Just don't forget about us when you're famous."
Marco laughed. "I'm playing U17 qualifiers. Don't make it like I am playing on euro or worldcup. Fame is a long way off."
"Still. When it happens."
"Alright. Let's not get ahead of myself. We will discuss it when that happens."
"Sure."
* * * *
Sunday, March 9th, Marco took the train to the national team's training facility—a different location this time, closer to where the qualifying matches would be held. The facility was near Frankfurt, a neutral location chosen for its proximity to multiple stadiums.
He arrived at 2 PM, earlier than required, and checked into his assigned room. This time, his roommate was a midfielder from Hamburg's academy—a quiet kid named Patrick who seemed more nervous than Marco felt.
"First camp?" Marco asked as they unpacked.
"Yeah. I was an alternate last time. But I got called up when someone dropped out." Patrick's hands shook slightly as he organized his belongings.
"You're Reus, right? From Dortmund? I heard about your performance last camp."
"Word travels fast."
"Everyone talks about you and Özil. The two best attacking prospects." Patrick sat on his bed, looking overwhelmed. "I'm just trying not to embarrass myself."
"I believe that, there are no bad players here. You were called up for a reason. Trust that." Marco offered practical advice from experience. "Focus on what you do well, don't try to be something you're not, and work hard. The coaches will like it if you don't make too many blunders.."
Patrick nodded, looking slightly less terrified.
At 4 PM, the full squad assembled in the meeting room. Eighteen players—the final roster for the qualifiers. Marco recognized most from the previous camp: Özil, Zieler, Boateng, Hummels, Stefano Celozzi, and others. A few new faces had been added, alternates who'd impressed in the interim.
Coach Müller stood at the front, flanked by his assistant coaches.
"Welcome back, gentlemen. For those new to the squad, I'm Coach Müller. These are my assistants: Weber, Schmidt, and our goalkeeper coach Lehmann." He clicked to the first slide.
"We have three qualifying matches in the next ten days. These are real matches, competitive fixtures against other nations. Your performance here determines if we advance to the UEFA U17 Championship."
The screen showed their group:
GROUP 4 - UEFA U17 QUALIFYING
Germany
Czech Republic
Switzerland
Norway
"We play each team once," Müller continued. "Top two teams from the group advance to the elite round. Our goal is first place. Anything less is failure."
The weight of that settled over the room. This wasn't a friendly camp anymore. This was real international competition.
"Match schedule:
March 14th: Germany vs. Norway
March 16th: Germany vs. Switzerland
March 18th: Germany vs. Czech Republic
"Between now and Monday, we will train. We should prepare. We have to finalize our starting eleven and tactical approach." Müller's gaze swept the room. "Some of you will start. Some won't. But everyone contributes. Questions?"
"Good. Dinner is at 7 PM. Rest tonight. Tomorrow, we have work to do."
* * *
Monday morning training began at 8:30 AM sharp. The intensity was noticeably higher than the previous camp—every drill had purpose, every exercise linked directly to the upcoming matches.
Coach Weber led the attacking players through tactical scenarios specific to their first opponent, Norway.
"Their defense is physical," Weber explained, moving magnetic pieces on a tactical board. "They'll press high, try to bully you off the ball. You need to be strong, protect possession, and move it quickly."
He looked at Marco and Özil specifically. "You two—our wide players—are key. If you can beat your markers one-on-one, you create overloads. But if you lose the ball carelessly, they will counter fast. Decision-making is everything here."
The morning session focused on possession under pressure. Small-sided games, tight spaces, aggressive defending. Marco thrived in these conditions—his close control and quick thinking allowed him to escape pressure consistently.
Afternoon training was full tactical work—the entire starting eleven running through match scenarios against the reserves acting as Norway.
Marco started on the left wing in the first team, with Özil on the right.
The chemistry between them was developing naturally. Özil would drift central, pulling defenders, creating space for Marco to exploit. Marco would stay wide, stretching the back line, then cut inside when gaps appeared.
They didn't need to communicate verbally—both understood space, movement, tactical geometry.
"Excellent!" Coach Müller called after a sequence where Marco's through ball found Özil, who laid it off for the striker to score. "That's exactly what we need. Keep that relationship going."
After training, Marco and Özil walked back to the facility together.
"You've improved since last camp," Özil observed.
"Really? I didn't do any special training or anything. Oh, I signed my first professional contract last week," Marco said. "I guess it cleared my head. No more worrying about my future."
Özil nodded. "I signed mine at Schalke last year. Two years with an extension option. It does change things mentally."
"How long have you been in the national team setup?"
"Two years. I started at U15, then moved up through to now U17." Özil glanced at him. "This is your first competitive matches, right?"
"Yeah."
"Different from friendlies or camp scrimmages, this is real pressure, real stakes. Game will speed up a lot." Özil paused. "But I think you'll be fine. You handle pressure well. I've watched you."
"Thanks."
They reached the dormitory entrance. Özil stopped. "Listen, I'm probably starting on the right. You'll probably start on the left. We're going to be the main creative outlets. The team's success depends on us delivering."
"I know."
"Good." Özil extended his fist. Marco bumped it.
An understanding formed between them. Not quite friendship yet—too competitive for that—but mutual respect and acknowledgment that they were in this together.