In early November, a new round of the German Bundesliga began. In this round, Hoffenheim played away against RB Leipzig, and the match was filled with a tense atmosphere from before kickoff. In the player tunnel, Oliver was not starting today; he wore a substitute bib, standing quietly behind his teammates. The faint soreness in his ribs was almost imperceptible now, and his physical report also showed that he had recovered well. However, Nagelsmann still couldn't be completely at ease, so he kept this sharp knife on the substitute list.
"Kid, how's your recovery? How do you feel?" Nagelsmann pulled Oliver aside and asked when giving his final instructions before the match.
"No problem, Coach!" Oliver's tone was firm, his eyes eager to try.
Nagelsmann nodded, patting his shoulder: "Very good, this is how I've planned it for this match. Currently, all Bundesliga clubs are starting to study you, and you've only recently recovered from injury. So, I'll only put you on in the second half, about thirty minutes before the end of the match, because the opponent is very tough, especially their center-back pairing. You'll go on to adapt to the intensity of the confrontation; don't rush for success. The main task for this match is to get a feel for things."
"Understood, Coach!" Oliver replied to his mentor's instructions.
The course of the match confirmed Nagelsmann's prediction. RB Leipzig's overall pressing and quick transitions made Hoffenheim play quite passively. The golden scout Timo Werner was like a sharp scalpel, constantly looking for opportunities in Hoffenheim's defense, eventually scoring with a precise offside trap and a keenly captured second-ball shot.
Leipzig scored one goal in each half, changing the score to 2:0. Time ticked by, minute by minute, and Hoffenheim still couldn't find an effective breakthrough in attack.
In the 63rd minute, Oliver was finally called up by the assistant coach, took off his bib, and stood by the sideline. The moment he stepped onto the grass, a familiar rush of adrenaline surged, further diminishing the pain in Oliver's rib injury. However, when he tried to receive a pass from a teammate and initiate a sprint, the defensive intensity he faced immediately made him feel the difference. Leipzig's defense was already prepared.
Especially the French center-back of similar age, the rising star Upamecano. This 18-year-old black lad was like a moving concrete wall, full of bulging muscles.
When Oliver tried to receive the ball on the right wing, Upamecano always stuck to him like a shadow.
His tackling style wasn't aggressive, but full of anticipation and skill: using his strong lower body to firmly block his position, making it difficult for Oliver to comfortably control the ball and turn;
When Oliver tried to speed up and cut inside, Upamecano could always block the path a step ahead, using his broad shoulders and precise positioning to squeeze space.
With every physical contact, Oliver could clearly feel the astonishing power transmitted from his opponent. Even though his lower body had become much more stable after recently practicing Aikido, he still felt a clear struggle in such a tough confrontation.
Upamecano's talent and strength reserves were indeed astonishing.
It was clear that Leipzig had indeed conducted in-depth research on him, blocking his preferred routes, squeezing the space for his shots, and applying power without hesitation at the moment of physical contact, precisely timing it to Oliver's force application points.
"Hoffenheim's tough kid has just returned from injury, and unexpectedly, he's met his match in this game. The 17-year-old Oliver facing the 18-year-old Upamecano seems to be getting no advantage at all. It looks like Leipzig must have done targeted research on Oliver," the commentator sighed.
A few times, Oliver managed to use his technique to break free in small spaces the moment he received the ball, but his disadvantage in strength still made it difficult for him to completely shrug off Upamecano's close marking interference while dribbling at high speed.
His shooting angles were compressed to the extreme, and two hurried shots went high. Several other attempts to play one-twos with teammates were also dismantled by Leipzig's highly coordinated defensive system.
The match ended with the 90-minute whistle. RB Leipzig won 2:0 at home, with the scout Timo Werner killing off the match. Oliver's efforts after coming on failed to change the situation on the field. His stats, apart from running distance and some attempted dribbles, showed zero goals and zero assists.
This was the first time he had truly experienced a tangible defeat. A sense of frustration spread through Oliver's heart. He knew that the recovery period required adaptation, but being so specifically nullified by someone his own age still left him somewhat unwilling.
Although he lost a match, this defeat also taught him a lot.
Oliver took a deep breath, wiped the sweat and grass from his face, and then walked straight towards Upamecano, who had just finished celebrating with his teammates and was bending down to adjust his shin guards.
Oliver stepped forward and extended his right hand proactively: "Dayot? Is that right? You played great, especially your defense against me, very impressive!"
Upamecano grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth, looking completely different from the tough iron defender he was on the field.
He shook Oliver's hand firmly: "Oh? Thanks! Oliver, you're great too, I had to be fully focused to keep up with your pace."
His German had a slight French accent, but it was fluent.
"That's because you're too strong," Oliver said honestly, with a hint of playful teasing, patting the area below his ribs, "I have to say, when I was up against you, I felt like I hit a wall."
Upamecano laughed heartily at the remark:
"Sorry, mate! But that's my job. I'll tell you a secret, our coach emphasized for a long time before the game to mark you tightly; he's studied a lot of your matches." Upamecano mimicked his coach's exaggerated tone.
Oliver also laughed: "No wonder, but this kind of confrontation is really exhilarating. Want to swap jerseys?"
"Oh! Of course!" Upamecano readily agreed, quickly taking off his RB Leipzig jersey.
As they exchanged jerseys, Upamecano said seriously: "You're only 17, your speed and skill are truly frightening. I guess you'll be even harder to deal with next time we meet."
Upamecano's words carried both recognition and a challenge to Oliver as an opponent.
"You're also very good, we learn from each other." Oliver smiled as he took the red and white jersey, "You're only one year older than me, but you're already like a seasoned center-back. I wish you all a successful season."
"Likewise, I wish you all a successful season."
Upamecano and Oliver fist-bumped. The two chatted briefly and pleasantly, encouraging each other before parting ways. A fierce confrontation thus ended with the mutual appreciation of the young players; on the field they were opponents, off the field they were peers who admired each other.
Back in Hoffenheim, training continued as usual. The fourth round of the Champions League group stage was coming soon, a home match against Moscow Spartak. This should have been a great opportunity for Oliver to show his skills, seek revenge, and score goals. In the last match in snowy Moscow, he had suffered quite a bit at the hands of those Russians.
However, when the match squad was announced, Oliver didn't find his name. He frowned slightly, and doubts bubbled up in his mind like water.
"Could it be… because of my poor performance against RB Leipzig last time? Zero goals, zero assists? Did I disappoint the coach?"
A hint of disappointment and confusion weighed on Oliver's heart.
Shortly after the list was announced, the assistant coach informed Oliver to go to the head coach's office. Oliver knocked on the door.
"Come in." Nagelsmann's voice came through.
Nagelsmann, of course, knew that Oliver would definitely have questions when he saw this squad list, so he had to personally explain it clearly to his beloved disciple. Pushing open the door, Nagelsmann was leaning back in his chair, looking at a tactics board. Seeing it was Oliver, he pointed to the chair in front of the desk:
"Sit."
"Coach," Oliver sat down, trying to keep his tone calm, "Um, about the new squad list…?"
Nagelsmann put down his pen, leaned forward, crossed his arms on the table, and looked at him with sharp eyes: "Oliver, not putting you on the list isn't because you performed poorly against RB Leipzig, don't overthink it."
He directly dispelled Oliver's suspicions: "Your ball control, attracting defenders, and positioning on the field were all very good. Upamecano is also a genius, and it's not embarrassing to be defended by him. He can give many top strikers headaches. I put you on as a substitute simply to find your form and adapt to high-intensity confrontation, and that goal has been achieved."
Nagelsmann tapped his finger on the table, speaking earnestly, and continued: "There are two reasons why I'm not putting you on for this match. First, and most importantly, strategic focus."
His voice became serious: "Oliver, after the Champions League match against Spartak in midweek, we immediately have an away game against Borussia Dortmund on the weekend. Even though the next match is our home game, I still can't be completely at ease, because that Russian player who targeted you last time has already been punished after the game, and their qualification situation isn't good either, so it's hard to guarantee whether they will continue to target you in this match."
Oliver listened to the coach's words and gradually understood. Nagelsmann continued to speak.
"The match against Dortmund on the weekend will be far more intense than the Champions League group stage match against Moscow in midweek. The opponent's research on us will only be more thorough! I need you to save your full physical condition, energy, and focus for that time. This missed Champions League match, for you, is about recuperating, fully training and adjusting, and then facing the Black and Yellows in your best state."
Oliver listened attentively, his eyes gradually brightening, and his brows relaxed. It turned out that the coach arranged it this way to prepare for a bigger battle.
"Second," Nagelsmann's tone softened slightly, more like he was confiding, "Oliver, you are currently first in the Champions League top scorers list, and it's very stable. Our group qualification situation is also excellent, and this match is at home against Moscow Spartak. This is a perfect opportunity…"
Nagelsmann leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice a bit,
"It's an opportunity for Serge, Amiri, and Kramarić."
Oliver listened carefully, and Nagelsmann continued softly,
"Because the November international break is coming soon, and the national team squad is beckoning them. They need to perform in official matches of this level to impress the national team coach, especially Serge and Amiri; they are very eager to wear the Germany national team jersey. But you can rest assured, I will definitely let you play in the remaining two Champions League group stage matches against Maribor, because the international break will have passed by then. At the same time, I'm also very eager to see what kind of new goal-scoring record you can create."
Nagelsmann looked into Oliver's eyes and spoke more candidly:
"Giving up your spot in this round, temporarily letting your teammates fight for it, and giving them some hope of making the national team squad, this has long-term benefits for the team, and also greatly benefits your personal standing and relationships in the locker room. So, you can… understand what I mean, right…?"
Nagelsmann wasn't sure if Oliver could understand, but he had indeed spoken from the heart. He knew Oliver was a good kid and had always been well-liked in the locker room. Nagelsmann's heartfelt words made Oliver's worries vanish. Oliver not only understood but even felt a sense of relief and appreciation.
His mentor not only considered his physical condition and the team's strategic focus but also the expectations and development of his teammates in the locker room. Football is a sport of 11 players, and the understanding between 11 players is mutual. Everyone needs opportunities to perform; Oliver needs them, and his teammates need them just as much. It's not to say that whoever is stronger must start every game. This is "locker room politics," and Nagelsmann understood this very well. It must be said, this was a very mature art of team management.
A knowing smile appeared on Oliver's face, his eyes clear: "Yes, I understand, Coach, you've made it very clear. For the upcoming match against Dortmund, I promise to deliver an even better performance! As for the Champions League match this weekend, I will train hard at the base, prepare meticulously, and continue to do what I need to do."
Nagelsmann looked at the expression on his beloved disciple's face and his clear, determined eyes, and a rare smile of approval appeared at the corner of his mouth: "Very good, I knew you were a sensible young man. Go on, these two days you still need to focus on recovery, follow the strength training plan, and get in good shape. When we play Dortmund on the weekend, I want to see a fully charged terminator!"
"Yes, Coach!" Oliver stood up, his steps much lighter.
Walking out of the coach's office, the training ground outside was bathed in sunlight, and the sky in the distance was a pure blue. He took a deep breath; the stifling feeling in his chest was gone, replaced only by anticipation for the next match against Dortmund. A brief period of calm is for a fiercer attack on a more important battlefield!
...
If you want to read 25 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
...