In late October, a few more leaves outside the window turned yellow, and the autumn chill in Hoffenheim grew stronger by the day. On the training ground, under the supervision of the rehabilitation therapist, Oliver could already perform non-contact slow runs and slight changes of direction with the ball. After a few days of Aikido, the rib injury was basically unnoticeable, and his lower body felt much more stable.
The day of full recovery and return to matches and training was not far off. Just as Oliver was focusing intently on practicing ball control and first-touch passing against the wall, Mia, the administrative assistant of the Youth Academy, found him, holding a thin envelope.
"Ollie, your exam results are out," Mia said with a smile, handing it over.
She had always had a good impression of this bright young man; he consistently ranked first in every exam.
"Thank you, Mrs. Mia." Oliver stopped the ball at his feet, wiped away some sweat, and took the envelope.
His heart inexplicably sped up a little. He had never relaxed in his academy courses; even though he shone in the Champions League, he still put a lot of effort into his cultural studies during his usual study time. He knew the importance of this mock exam, as it related to his predicted score in the German Abitur, a stepping stone for applying to top universities. He returned to the locker room, found a quiet corner to sit down, took a deep breath, and tore open the envelope.
"Whew…"
The paper inside the envelope unfolded, covered in black text on white paper. His gaze eagerly scanned through each result: German (Literature and Analysis), Mathematics, Physics, Computer Science, German History, and an additional course in Economic Geography, among others.
Numbers jumped into his eyes.
Mathematics: 1 point
Physics: 1 point
Computer Science: 1 point
German: 1 point
German History: 1.1 points
Economic Geography: 1.3 points
…
Oliver's fingers traced over the scores, only briefly pausing at the "1.3" for Economic Geography. That was his only slight blemish, mainly due to an open-ended essay question combining Europe's energy structure. The academy teacher's evaluation of Oliver was "the argumentative perspective slightly lacks macroscopic depth."
But it didn't have much impact, as he was a science student. This was the reward he earned from countless nights spent poring over books at his desk since he began his basic education, and from gritting his teeth and persevering through fatigue after training. This score was enough to bring him some relief. With this score, he could apply to top universities in Europe and even worldwide. However, this joy lasted only for a moment before being diluted by another thought.
It was already October 20th. The German unified Abitur was scheduled for next summer, which was a crossroads that would determine Oliver's academic career for the next four years or even longer, and he had to prepare in advance. Most institutions, especially the world-class universities Oliver favored, usually had an application deadline around January 15th of next year.
What did this mean?
It meant he had to use his existing, extremely excellent, near-perfect predicted German Abitur scores to apply early now. If his early application was successful, Oliver would take the official German Abitur in May of the following year. If his Abitur score was not significantly different from his predicted score, then he could smoothly receive an offer from his target university.
A feeling of both excitement and slight bewilderment filled Oliver's heart. The high threshold of top academic institutions went without saying; his academic performance definitely qualified him to aim for them. But when the choice truly fell into Oliver's own hands, he became troubled instead. Which one should he choose?
Imperial College London? Cambridge? Oxford? Or Germany's Technical University of Munich, or America's MIT? Stanford? Their engineering and science programs were all unparalleled…
Oliver's identity was too special; he was not only a very good student but also currently the most expensive U18 professional player in the Bundesliga. His terrifying goal record in the Champions League was like a heavy hammer, striking the top scorer list and also striking the reports of all major club scouts. Oliver wanted to excel in both his academic life and his football life; he wanted to be strong in both. Continuing to think, new problems arose. Could the country and city of his chosen university accommodate his football life?
Even if Oliver's application was successful, it was unlikely he would be able to immerse himself in campus life like an ordinary student, attending classes or exams as usual. When that time truly came, intensive training during tight schedules, call-ups for international match days… would interrupt his study plans countless times. Therefore, which university could offer enough understanding, flexible course arrangements—such as providing abundant online course resources, a flexible credit system, and extensive remote learning support—to accommodate a "special student" who was bound to be absent from class for long periods but had outstanding academic ability, was particularly important to Oliver.
On the football field, he could rely on his own efforts and the system's help, but for decisions on the more complex path of life, he needed greater wisdom. Fortunately, he had a beloved father who was well-versed in European customs and social norms. Upon returning, Oliver immediately video-called his father. On the screen, Jules seemed to have just finished a meeting, dressed in a sharp suit, with an office bookshelf in the background.
"Dad, my Abitur mock exam results from the Youth Academy are out."
Jules immediately put down the documents in his hand, his gaze concerned and sharp: "Oh? Tell me quickly!"
"Um… these are my scores," Oliver displayed his transcript to the camera, trying to keep his tone calm, "Mathematics, Physics, and Computer Science are all in the full-score range, German is pretty much the same, only Economic Geography was a little off."
Jules squinted, carefully discerning the scores, his expression gradually relaxing, finally turning into a relieved smile:
"Good… good boy! This is real talent! This transcript is something to be proud of!"
He knew how difficult it was for his son to maintain his studies under the high-intensity German youth training system.
"Dad," Oliver's tone became lower, carrying a hint of confusion, "I'm really thinking about applying to universities in the UK now. The UCAS deadline is January 15th next year, but I… I don't know where to apply."
Jules's expression also became serious; he knew what his son was truly distressed about. He pondered for a moment, not immediately offering an answer, but instead asked: "Son, have you seen the latest Transfermarkt value update?"
Oliver was startled, shaking his head: "I've been in recovery training recently, so I haven't had time to look closely."
"You child, why don't you even care about your own market value… Look, your current market value is this number, 71 million Euros." Jules turned his computer screen to show Oliver.
The screen displayed: [Oliver 71M €]
"This value surged after your 10 Champions League goals. You are currently the highest-valued player in Hoffenheim's history, and also the most expensive U18 player in the entire Bundesliga right now."
"Ah!? No??? That much?!" Oliver was a bit surprised; he knew he had performed well, but he hadn't expected his value to skyrocket to this price.
"So," Jules's voice became incredibly clear, carrying the cold insight of a seasoned agent, "on the path of football, your 'spot value' is already very high; this is not predicted future potential. Do you know what this means? It means top clubs have an urgent desire for your immediate combat strength at this stage. Not necessarily in the winter transfer window, but by next summer's transfer window… It's pretty much a foregone conclusion that you'll leave Hoffenheim."
He looked at his son's increasingly solemn face on the video and continued: "The situation you face is very clear: the dream of a top engineering and science university, and a major turning point in your football career that is very likely to happen within six months. When choosing a university, geographical factors will become the first priority, even surpassing pure academic rankings. You need a place where football and academics can coexist, at least with a theoretically feasible basis in terms of scheduling. Otherwise, once you go to a prestigious university in a less convenient geographical location and then get signed by a top club, will you be constantly jet-lagged on transoceanic flights, rushing between matches and classes every day? Son, that's not balancing; that's a death wish."
After listening to his father's words, Oliver began to ponder. His father's analysis completely stripped away idealistic notions, showing him many practical realities. "Dad, then where do you think… is most likely?" he pressed.
"London." Jules uttered the word decisively.
"London?" Oliver's eyes lit up, and the spot on the world map instantly lit up in his mind.
"Yes, London." Jules's pace quickened, as if he were presenting a precise business plan, "First, teaching quality: you prefer science, and Imperial College London is absolutely a top-tier choice for you. It is a global pinnacle of science and engineering, especially in pure science fields like engineering, physics, and Computer Science. It is one of the world's benchmarks, and your scores and potential perfectly match its requirements. Starting your academic journey there is strong enough!"
He paused briefly, giving his son time to process, then added: "Second, football: setting everything else aside, just within London itself, there are three major Premier League powerhouses: Chelsea, Arsenal, and Tottenham. That's not even counting slightly lesser teams like Crystal Palace, Fulham, and West Ham United, whose home stadiums and world-class training bases are all in the London area. Imagine, if you really transfer to any of these three in the future, whether the training base is at Stamford Bridge, Colney, or White Hart Lane, it will absolutely meet your commuting needs. It's entirely possible to use rest days, match adjustment days, or even flight layovers to attend important exams at Imperial College London's South Kensington campus. At that time, both the university and the club can switch between them with minimal time and physical distance loss. That's what true balance means."
After his father's analysis, Oliver had a pretty clear understanding of the situation. Jules finally emphasized one point: "Moreover, your undergraduate studies are only three years. During these three years, no matter how well you perform at Imperial College London, even if you eventually need to temporarily put it aside due to competitive status, having an offer from Imperial College London in hand will always be a fallback. But if you miss the London option, which is geographically the only place that can balance top-tier football and top-tier academics, and go to another place to study for two or three months only to be scouted away. At that time, it would be a huge waste of time, energy, and credibility. The London solution is currently the most controllable in terms of risk and opportunity cost among all options."
Jules's words were like a precise surgical knife, cutting through the fog before his son's eyes. All the worries and pros and cons, at the London city hub, around the academic fortress of Imperial College London. Surrounding the three Premier League landmarks of Arsenal, Chelsea, and Tottenham, it truly seemed to connect into an imaginable, tangible, inclusive future blueprint. Although this path was destined to be full of challenges, the way forward was crystal clear. After saying goodbye to his father and hanging up the phone, Oliver sat alone at his desk for a long time.
He opened Imperial College London's official website several times, looking at it repeatedly. The beautifully designed university crest, the simple yet powerful campus building images, and especially the modern and profound course descriptions of the Computer Science department, all strongly attracted his science-oriented mind. He then searched for Chelsea's Cobham training ground, Arsenal's Colney, and Tottenham's White Hart Lane community.
Looking at the map, he saw their not-too-distant straight-line proximity to Imperial College London's South Kensington campus and the developed transportation network. An unprecedented sense of clear purpose surged into Oliver's heart. About fifteen minutes later, he sat in front of his computer and logged into the UCAS platform. The information on the page was carefully filled in item by item. Personal information, educational background, and especially the scanned copy of his dazzling Youth Academy transcript were uploaded with particular solemnity.
In the section for applying to institutions and majors, he had no hesitation.
[First Choice]
Institution Name: Imperial College London
Major Name: Computer Science (BEng / MEng)
Oliver slid the flickering mouse on the screen, paused for a moment before the "Submit" button, then took a soft breath and pressed the left mouse button.
The interface popped up showing:
"Your UCAS application form (including estimated grades and other key information) has been successfully submitted to Imperial College London (Computer Science program)."
The green notification light for information sent flashed and disappeared. Oliver leaned back in his chair, letting out a long, silent breath.
His goal was now set: Imperial College London.
...
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