The moment with Scott had worked wonders; De Bruyne felt the suffocating gloom in his chest lift considerably. After parting ways at the intersection, David returned to his dormitory. He pulled up game footage of TSG Hoffenheim, meticulously studying their fullbacks.
On the screen, he recognized a familiar face: Roberto Firmino, the quintessential "atypical center-forward." Oh, and there was another: Niklas Süle. Both were players who would go on to make massive names for themselves. At this point, however, they were still somewhat green—their technical proficiency and overall physical presence had yet to reach their eventual peaks.
Last season, Hoffenheim had finished ninth in the Bundesliga, trailing Wolfsburg by sixteen points. On paper, the Wolves held the clear advantage. However, Hoffenheim had bolstered their squad during the summer transfer window, and more importantly, their key players had largely avoided international duty. They were immune to the "FIFA virus" that often plagues bigger clubs after a break. Wolfsburg, by contrast, had most of their roster coming off one or two intense international matches. Heading into the day after tomorrow, the outcome was anything but certain.
"I wonder if I'll actually start," David mused. He felt that given Hecking's character, once a player proved their worth, the manager wouldn't be stingy with opportunities.
His intuition was confirmed the very next day. Inside the meeting room at the VfL training ground, Dieter Hecking was announcing the matchday squad.
"We're tweaking the configuration up front," Hecking began. "Vieirinha will take the right wing, Kevin remains in the hole as the playmaker, and as for the left wing—David, this is the opportunity I promised you."
Hecking looked at David, his eyes brimming with expectation. It was inevitable; anyone who had witnessed David's flawless debut couldn't help but wonder what he would produce next.
"I won't let you down, Boss," David said with a smile. Despite his outward composure, his heart was racing. Coming off the bench is one thing, but starting is a different beast entirely. The prospect of holding a mascot's hand and walking out of the tunnel into a deafening roar of approval was something he had long looked forward to. Perhaps he was looking through rose-tinted glasses because he had never experienced it, but the allure was undeniable.
"Now that the lineup is set, let's talk about Hoffenheim," Hecking continued. "They are a classic 'all-attack, no-defense' side. They beat Augsburg 2–0 in the last round, and their standout performer was undoubtedly the Brazilian, Firmino. He is the pivot of their offense—the key link between their midfield and attack."
"We need to neutralize him as much as possible. Secure the defensive end first, then seek the counter. Kevin will organize the offense. The specific tactics will follow the drills we ran earlier."
With a few concise sentences, Hecking laid out the battle plan. David focused his attention on Andreas Beck and Süle; they were the two defenders he would be clashing with most frequently tomorrow.
The following day, David and his teammates boarded the club bus, setting off on the highway toward Sinsheim. The 300-kilometer journey took four hours—buses were barred from the express lanes, and most stretches had a strict speed limit of 100 km/h.
Before long, the bus pulled up to the Rhein-Neckar-Arena. Through the window, David saw a sea of fans in deep blue jerseys, waving flags and chanting club anthems as they swarmed the streets.
Hoffenheim is affectionately nicknamed Die Kraichgauer, but more commonly known as "The Village Team." Originally, Hoffenheim was just a small village on the outskirts of Sinsheim with barely 3,000 residents. It was the kind of place where trains were a rare sight, served only by a single rural line. In German, the name means "Home of Hope" or "Happy Home." What truly made them famous, however, was their strength. In the 2008-09 season, Hoffenheim completed a "triple jump" in successive seasons to reach the Bundesliga—a feat hailed as a "Village Miracle."
"Luiz, I heard Ralf Rangnick resigned from Hoffenheim because of you?" David asked curiously. He had read reports about it previously. Rangnick was considered the godfather of modern German football, the man who spearheaded the tactical wave of the flat back four, zonal marking, and high-intensity pressing. Half of the current German managers were inspired by his philosophy; the other half were his direct pupils. Hoffenheim's rise had been orchestrated under his tenure.
"In a way," Luiz Gustavo said with a wry smile. "Bayern wanted to buy me, and the management sold me without telling Ralf. He was furious."
Tsk tsk. David thought that if Rangnick had been that angry, Gustavo must have been vital to his system. Unfortunately, Wolfsburg's ex-Bayern contingent—both Gustavo and Olić—had given their absolute prime years to the Bavarian giants. While they weren't exactly over the hill, they were a far cry from their peak forms in Munich.
As David and his teammates went out to warm up, the pre-match press conference was underway.
"Mr. Hecking, David Qin has received a lot of attention after his excellent performance last match. What are your expectations for him today?" a reporter from the Xinhua News Agency asked, naturally focusing on the Chinese starlet.
"Well, I think anyone who watched the game can sense his talent. I won't say much about his technique, but I believe he will bring surprises to me and the fans today," Hecking replied. "Of course, performance is tied to form. If he doesn't play perfectly, I hope everyone isn't too harsh on him." He knew how much public opinion could crush a young player and wanted to shield David from the noise as much as possible.
In another room, Markus Gisdol—Rangnick's protégé who had saved Hoffenheim from relegation two seasons ago and pushed them into the top ten last year—was brimming with confidence. "Our tactical system has evolved; we are now at a level where we can challenge for Europa League spots. Beating Augsburg was just the beginning. we will take all three points at home!"
Thirty minutes before kickoff, David and his teammates finished their warm-ups. They returned to the dressing room for final preparations before heading into the player tunnel. Standing near the back of the line, David saw Firmino and Süle.
"What's your name?" David asked, looking down at the young mascot holding his hand to kill some time.
"Bernhard," the boy replied softly, showing no fear.
"I know what that means... 'Brave Bear,' right?" David noted.
"What about yours?" Bernhard asked crisply.
"Me? 'Powerful Dragon!'" David(Qin Ming) joked. Who knew what his parents had actually been thinking when they named him?
"Can you show me a dragon?" Bernhard's eyes lit up. He had seen bears at the zoo, but never a dragon.
"If I score a goal later, look up at the sky immediately. You might just see one," David teased, feeling zero guilt about deceiving a child.
"Okay! Then you definitely have to score!" Bernhard nodded vigorously.
Beside them, Firmino couldn't resist. "Bernhard, there are no dragons in the world. He's lying to you." Being a home-team mascot, he felt a bit of a duty to look out for the kid.
"You're the liar! I don't believe you!" Bernhard tightened his grip on David's hand.
David's lips curled into a smirk as he shrugged, laughing heartily. Firmino just stared. Why does this kid have such a punchable grin?
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