The first match after the winter break was a highly anticipated one.
Second-placed Hoffenheim hosted their strong rivals Borussia Mönchengladbach, and as soon as the opening whistle blew, an invisible smoke of war began to permeate the green field. In this match, Nagelsmann's main objective was to test the chemistry between the new players and the new tactics.
"Kick-off! Hoffenheim is playing in a 4-2-3-1 formation, they've adopted a very aggressive stance, Nagelsmann has used the 4-2-3-1 very frequently this season," the Commentator's voice came through the loudspeakers with a hint of tension.
"Look at the high press in the front, Uth and Grillitsch are pushing very high, directly pressing Mönchengladbach's two central defenders Ginter and Elvedi."
Hoffenheim's front four were not wildly scrambling, but rather weaving a dynamic net. Grillitsch and Uth were positioned near the center circle arc, firmly pinning themselves in front of Mönchengladbach's two central defenders, applying psychological high pressure. As for Hoffenheim's left and right wings, Gnabry and Oliver, on Nagelsmann's tactical board, their task was more like two sharp knives, specifically cutting off the opponent's passing lanes.
Mönchengladbach's right defensive midfielder Zakaria received the ball and was about to pass it forward when Oliver's figure ghosted in, his right foot swiftly extended, precisely blocking the passing lane he intended for Hofmann! Zakaria could only hurriedly pass back.
"The press is very smart, Oliver's recovery position is very deep! He's helping De Jong cover Hofmann's side!"
Another Commentator quickly analyzed, "Mönchengladbach is being forced to shift... to the right, looking for Johnson!"
The ball shifted to Mönchengladbach's right flank, and as soon as Johnson received the ball, Kaderabek stuck to him like glue. Hoffenheim's right-back was particularly sticky today.
Once, twice, thrice...
In the first fifteen minutes of the first half, Johnson, under Kaderabek's man-marking, repeatedly failed in his attempts to break through and pass, completely losing out in physical confrontations!
"Kaderabek with another successful tackle, his man-marking success rate this season is 73%," the Commentator exclaimed, "Mönchengladbach's left flank is cut off by Oliver's co-defense, and the right flank is completely locked down, Hoffenheim's opening setup is making space extremely uncomfortable!"
Oliver wiped the sweat from his face, his gaze sweeping across the opponent's half. The probing was over, it was time to show his blade. He quietly moved back from the midfield to his familiar right-wing area. At the same time, Nagelsmann made a clear gesture with his left hand on the sidelines.
"Gnabry, he's very active on the left wing!" Gnabry began to receive the ball frequently, and facing the experienced Wendt, he brought out his signature moves.
Continuous step-overs, plus sudden changes of direction! Gnabry also had some tricks up his sleeve. Mönchengladbach's Wendt dared not be negligent and immediately stepped forward to block. But Gnabry's intention seemed to be more than that; after a few attempts, he dribbled the ball and cut inside. This immediately attracted the attention of Kramer, Mönchengladbach's core defensive midfielder who usually dropped deep to form a three-man defensive screen, and he had to move towards him, preparing to double-team!
In the 24th minute, Gnabry, on the left flank, once again faced Wendt and the moving Kramer, but he did not force a breakthrough. Just a split second before the two were about to close in, his body's center of gravity suddenly paused, and his left ankle subtly pushed the ball. The ball changed direction, not towards the byline, but diagonally rolled towards the central-left area!
"Amiri! Beautiful diagonal run!" The Commentator's voice suddenly rose.
Hoffenheim's attacking midfielder Amiri seemed to have anticipated this move already! He suddenly made a diagonal run from behind Grillitsch, precisely receiving Gnabry's surgical-knife-like horizontal pass. His receiving position was precisely wedged into the connecting area between Mönchengladbach's left flank and midfield! This diagonal run was like driving a nail firmly between Mönchengladbach's originally constructed left flank defense and central barrier.
Most importantly, Amiri lifted his head as he received the ball. His gaze, like a hawk's, pierced across half the field, firmly locked onto the far right flank!
Without a moment's hesitation, he didn't even attempt to trap the ball to adjust!
Amiri's right instep was taut, like a fully drawn bow, his calf exploded with immense power, striking the ball with the inside of his foot. The ball soared into the air, transforming into a low, swift, and exaggeratedly arcing rainbow! It perfectly bypassed all the black figures in the middle, falling with astonishing precision into the open space at the right corner of Mönchengladbach's penalty area!
"Diagonal switch, Amiri's long pass! Looking for Oliver on the right, let's see how Oliver will handle it!" The Commentator practically screamed.
The eyes of the entire stadium instantly focused on that spot. Oliver was there. The moment Amiri made his run, he had already started moving like a lurking predator. This time, no call was needed, they understood each other perfectly! The ball arrived, and so did the man; about two meters outside the right penalty area corner, he extended his foot, and with a decent instep, he brought down this precisely guided ball that had traveled over forty meters!
Oliver's ball control ability was not yet very stable, but for now, it was sufficient. After controlling the ball, standing in front of him now was Mönchengladbach's defensive stalwart Elvedi. The Switzerland defender was experienced and showed no fear, lowering his center of gravity, firmly blocking Oliver's inner breakthrough space! He wanted to force Oliver wide!
Oliver's gaze was icy, showing no signs of stopping after receiving the ball. Just as the ball was about to drop and bounce, and he was about to guide it outwards with the inside of his right foot, his body suddenly moved! A huge burst of power exploded from his supporting left ankle! His left ankle suddenly unleashed a terrifying inward rotation! His entire body, using this powerful rotational torque that burst forth instantly, fiercely twisted inwards! His left arm naturally swung back forcefully, like the tip of a whip, and his right shoulder pressed down with the momentum! His entire upper body rotated counter-clockwise by nearly 180 degrees in a manner that defied inertia.
At the same time, the tip of his right foot, which should have guided the ball outwards, like the tip of a paintbrush, tautened its instep, using the upper part of the foot near the outside of the instep. Under the rolling ball, with extreme lightness yet cunning force, he brushed it outwards and backwards, then hooked it.
Swish!
The ball did not roll along the outside line, nor did it cut directly inwards! Instead, under Oliver's miraculous brush and hook, it strangely drew a small, counter-intuitive arc inwards, actually curling into the penalty area! The ball precisely rolled along the edge of the completely faked-out Elvedi's heel on the inside line, deep into the penalty area! The entire sequence of movements was fluid and fast, leaving only a spinning silhouette! Elvedi's reaction was too slow.
"Oh my God! Look, what move did Oliver just do!!!" The Commentator's voice completely distorted, cracking with astonishment! "He actually got past, my God! Oliver!!! He used a move I've never seen before! It's as beautiful as a work of art to get past Elvedi! Clean and precise!!!"
The entire Hoffenheim stadium erupted in a nearly frantic roar after a moment of stunned silence.
"Oliver!! Oliver!!"
Tens of thousands of people simultaneously shouted his name! Even Nagelsmann, sitting on the coaching bench, suddenly sprang from his seat, his clenched fists showing bulging veins. Oliver had no time to enjoy any of this; he completely ignored the gasps behind him and the disheveled Elvedi behind him. Like a wolf pouncing into a flock of sheep, he chased the ball, which had mysteriously rolled inwards, and stepped into the penalty area!
Facing the flustered Ginter, who rushed to defend, and the hastily recovering goalkeeper Sommer, he did not selfishly shoot! His wide vision swept across the goalmouth like a searchlight. Uth! Almost the instant he got past the defender, Uth, like a shark smelling blood, surged forward from the middle with a top striker's instinct, heading straight for the near post! And Gnabry had already drifted to the far post! Both were in excellent positions! Oliver did not pause, did not hesitate.
His right instep taut, he used the most practical technique to powerfully tap the rolling ball towards the central-forward area of the six-yard box, closer to the near post. This was a textbook-perfect cut-back pass. Short route, fast speed, low to the ground!
"Cut-back!!! Uth!!!!" Amidst the Commentator's roar, Uth, arriving just in time, met the ball and tapped it in! No frills whatsoever.
The inside of his right foot applied precise power, and the ball, as if struck by a heavy hammer, drilled low into the near corner. Goalkeeper Sommer's balance was completely thrown off by Oliver's breakthrough and pass, leaving him helpless!
1-0!
"Gooooooooal!!! Hoffenheim!!! Uth!!! 1-0!!! A perfect team effort! Amiri's exquisite pass! Oliver's unbelievable dribble tearing apart the defense! A calm assist!!! Hoffenheim takes the lead early on!!"
The stands erupted into a sea of blue, and the players on the bench jumped up, waving towels. Nagelsmann fiercely waved his arm, his face showing uncontrollable ecstasy. On the field, Oliver and Uth bumped chests in celebration, Amiri rushed over and ruffled Oliver's hair, De Jong, Maguire... everyone's faces were beaming with excitement. New tactics! This was Oliver's new weapon! And Hoffenheim's new weapon!
Oliver pointed at Amiri, and the two patted each other's backs. Amiri's pass just now was equally precise, earning Oliver's complete admiration. Borussia Mönchengladbach was clearly hit hard by this unexpected blow. After conceding, they launched a fierce counterattack. Stindl began to drop deep into the central circle, trying to use his excellent organizational skills to link up Hofmann and Johnson on the wings. The ultimate goal was only one: to bombard Hoffenheim's penalty area using the powerful heading ability of the tall striker Westergaard, who was 194cm tall!
"Look! Maguire is moving!" The Commentator captured the key duel, "Westergaard challenges for the header! Maguire! Not giving an inch! Both jump at the same time!!"
The sound of a massive collision echoed throughout the penalty area! Maguire seemed to transform into a mobile fortress, using his robust physique and astonishing strength to firmly hold off Westergaard! Although Westergaard managed to head the ball due to his height advantage, under Maguire's strong interference, it was headed too straight! This shot was easily collected by Baumann!
"The defender from Leicester City, Maguire!!! I feel like I just saw an aircraft carrier!!!" the Commentator shouted.
Following that, Vogt used his jumping ability and positioning awareness to defuse a precise cross from Johnson. Hoffenheim's deep-lying defender Nordtveit calmly cleared the second ball. Hoffenheim's three-center-back aerial defense system became impregnable with the addition of the strong pivot Maguire. Nagelsmann nodded vigorously on the sidelines, constantly applauding; the value of this loan signing lay precisely in this. De Jong, meanwhile, was like a close shadow, lurking around Stindl; as soon as the Dane tried to drop deep to receive the ball, he immediately applied pressure and interfered, repeatedly cutting off the opponent's attacking organizational passing lanes.
In the 38th minute, Mönchengladbach's attack was thwarted, and Baumann decisively caught Johnson's hurried cross. Baumann held the ball with both hands, his gaze like a torch sweeping forward. Like an American football quarterback, he raised his arm high, his waist exploding with twisting power, and the ball, with a whooshing sound, was powerfully thrown to the central midfield!
"Hoffenheim goalkeeper counters! Quick throw-out!" The Commentator's voice became urgent.
Grillitsch, in the central midfield, leaned against Zakaria, steadily controlling this extremely long throw-out. He did not dribble, not a moment's delay! He shifted his body to the right, and the inside of his left foot curled a beautiful diagonal pass, the ball whistling as it rolled into the huge open space on the right flank!
"It's the right flank again, Grillitsch is looking for Oliver!" The Commentator's voice carried anticipation.
Oliver floored the accelerator. He took the longest strides possible, sprinting along the sideline! Because his reaction was quick enough, the 30-meter sprint was over in an instant! Just as he caught up to the ball and was about to change direction and cut inside, Mönchengladbach's defense was like a startled bird! Ginter and the desperately chasing Wendt almost simultaneously closed in on him, attempting to double-team in the rib area and cut off his most threatening inside-cutting path! Oliver caught a glimpse of the two figures in his peripheral vision. His right ankle instinctively made a feinting movement as if to step and cut inside. Ginter and Wendt indeed fell for the trick, their center of gravity immediately shifting to block the path he might cut into!
At this moment, Oliver was sprinting at his fastest speed, his body showing no signs of slowing down. His supporting left foot suddenly pushed outwards! He forcefully maintained his balance at high speed, while his upper body tilted slightly, and his raised right foot was neither a shot nor an inside pass. His instep was extended like a knife blade, the inside of his toe applied force, then he horizontally brushed it. The ball did not go inwards! Nor did it go forwards! Instead, with this powerful brush, it drew a bizarre left-spinning arc high into the air, rapidly flying over almost the entire edge of the penalty area, crossing all the crowded central players. It found the huge, empty space on the other side of the field with incredible precision!
"Oh my goodness!!! What vision is that!!! Oliver seems to keep surprising us!!!" The Commentator was so shocked he almost bit his tongue!
In that empty space, Gnabry was sprinting like a ghost smelling blood. He had already made a high-speed diagonal run into the left-wing space when Oliver started his move, and Oliver's ultra-wide-angle, long-distance horizontal pass precisely traveled across half the field, landing steadily in his sprinting path. Gnabry chested the ball down, and with one fluid touch, he dribbled into the left side of the penalty area. Beside him, only Johnson, who had hastily recovered, remained! Gnabry did not hesitate; from a very tight angle, he curled a shot with his left foot towards the far corner! It was a high-quality shot. But Mönchengladbach's goalkeeper Sommer once again stepped up. With an astonishing, sprawling save, he single-handedly tipped the ball out for a corner!
"Sommer!! What an incredible save!!! Gnabry! What a pity! Oliver's pass was simply a masterpiece!" The Commentator regretfully slammed the table!
Oliver shook his head helplessly, looking at Sommer's save. The pass was good enough, perfectly placed, and the shot was beautiful, just lacking that last bit of luck. But he knew that continuously creating threats was the most crucial thing. Oliver raised both hands, signaling encouragement to Gnabry, urging him to maintain the attacking threat he had just shown. Gnabry responded with a similar gesture of encouragement.
In the second half, the teams switched sides, and Mönchengladbach was like a cornered beast. The coach adjusted the tactics, Hofmann moved forward, almost reaching the front line, and Kramer also frequently pressed forward to attack the penalty area. Mönchengladbach abandoned midfield entanglement and began to charge more directly and riskily into Hoffenheim's core penalty area. This was a desperate 3-4-1-2 formation.
"Danger! Mönchengladbach central penetration! Hofmann!"
Hofmann received a return pass from his teammate at the edge of the penalty area, adjusted slightly, and prepared for a long-range shot. But a blue figure darted in like lightning. Amiri was there! He bravely tackled! His entire body crashed in like a cannonball, using powerful impact and accurate positioning to forcefully poke the ball away from Hofmann's feet, clearing it!
"Amiri, a crucial tackle! Full of destructive power!" Amiri got up, shouting instructions to the defense on their positioning.
The double pivot of Amiri and De Jong had clear division of labor today. Amiri was responsible for pressing forward and sweeping, while De Jong transformed into a mobile barrier in front of the penalty area, covering a vast area, intercepting and positioning repeatedly. The two tacitly built an iron curtain in the arc area. Oliver at this moment had almost become a tireless shadow. Mönchengladbach's main attack was on the left, and he frequently dropped deep to the inside of Kaderabek to assist in defense. Although he played on the front line, his defensive retreats were always very active.
In the 53rd minute, Mönchengladbach's exquisite penetration broke through Hoffenheim's midfield interception line, and Raffael suddenly darted forward. He received a through ball on the edge of offside.
"Raffael! One-on-one!!" The voices of the Commentator and Mönchengladbach fans were filled with ecstasy!
Just as Raffael was about to enter the penalty area and face Baumann, Oliver sprinted back from the right wing to defend! Relying on his astonishing speed in tracking back and his extraordinary willpower, he stretched out a crucial long leg just milliseconds before Raffael shot. His body collided heavily with Raffael's off-balance side!
Bang!
A muffled sound! Raffael stumbled and fell under the violent impact! The ball was poked away by Oliver's toe! A huge movement! The referee's whistle blew almost simultaneously! He ran over and gave Oliver a yellow card! He believed the movement was too aggressive and suspected a push. This was the first yellow card Oliver had received in his career. Perhaps because his mentor had given him too much pep talk in the past two days, Oliver was indeed a bit overexcited in this match.
"Yellow card?! Oliver's tracking back was too crucial! The movement was indeed big, but if it wasn't a foul, it would have been a sure goal! Slow motion shows that Oliver indeed touched the ball first!" The Commentator defended Oliver.
Maguire rushed over, pulled Oliver up, and slapped his back hard with his huge palm: "Well done, mate! Your tracking back is definitely more defender-like than a professional defender!"
Oliver was panting heavily, his chest heaving violently. He glanced at the scoreboard and his mentor on the sidelines. His running distance for this match had already exceeded 9 kilometers! A huge expenditure of energy! Nagelsmann was a bit happy and a bit troubled; happy that his beloved disciple always made him satisfied, and troubled that this kid was pushing himself a bit too hard today. Therefore, Nagelsmann had his assistant coach convey to Oliver on the sidelines the intention to reduce his tracking back and conserve energy.
The match reached the 70-minute mark. The continuous strong attack failed to yield results, instead exhausting the Mönchengladbach players' last bit of mental energy. Hoffenheim firmly controlled the ball, patiently passing it horizontally in their own half. 22 consecutive passes! De Jong had become Hoffenheim's core rhythm-setter; every touch of his was light and accurate, and he exchanged passes back and forth with Maguire, Vogt, and Nordtveit. The ball seemed to be glued to their feet.
Mönchengladbach forwards Westergaard, Raffael, and others could only futilely chase the ball, making a large number of meaningless back-and-forth sprints. The physical exhaustion point had arrived. Impatience was written on the faces of the Mönchengladbach players.
In the 71st minute, Zakaria, in order to stop a forward pass from Amiri, reluctantly tripped him from behind. The referee decisively showed a yellow card! This was Zakaria's second yellow card of the season, and his movements began to become hesitant! Hoffenheim sensed that the Mönchengladbach defense was about to snap.
In the 79th minute, Johnson tried to forcefully break free from Kaderabek on the right wing. But Hoffenheim's right-back was like a rock, accurately anticipating Johnson's change of pace and direction, and cleanly intercepted the ball with his foot.
"Kaderabek, a clean and decisive tackle!" Kaderabek didn't hesitate; he instantly looked up and found his target.
A precise, low, flat through ball! The ball like an arrow pierced the midfield line, heading towards Mönchengladbach's empty left-wing backfield.
"Oliver gets the ball! Solo breakthrough! It's the right wing again!" The Commentator's voice became excited again.
This time, Mönchengladbach reacted faster. Zakaria, like a mad bull, sprinted from the center diagonally to cover. He didn't want to give Oliver another chance to perform magic! He wanted to block the ribs! Oliver's speed did not diminish in the slightest. Just as Zakaria was about to close in, he once again unleashed his signature skill. He took a step forward with his right foot, feigning an inside cut. Zakaria, being experienced, didn't fully commit his weight, only slightly shifting inward to block. Oliver repeated his trick; his supporting left ankle exploded with a twist, his body carrying the familiar counter-clockwise twisting trend. His right foot lifted, his instep taut outwards, as if he was about to perform that deadly scuff-and-change-direction move again.
"It's that move again!" Zakaria's pupils constricted sharply.
In his mind, the miserable state of Elvedi being toyed with in the first half flashed instantly. He almost instinctively, gambling everything, lunged to his right side to block! His center of gravity completely thrown off. However, this was only the first half of Oliver's feint. Oliver's center of gravity was already twisting, but his raised right foot did not truly rotate outwards. Just as the sole of his foot was about to touch the ball, his ankle gave a subtle flick. The movement instantly transformed from a dazzling and tricky outward swivel into a simple, sharp stop and pull-back. The inside of his sole pulled the ball back steadily. Zakaria's large body, due to his speculative lunge, had his center of gravity completely fooled. He awkwardly tried to adjust his body, his feet stumbling!
Thump!
His huge body, like an out-of-control truck, crashed onto the wet grass, sliding down. He landed flat on his back, utterly disheveled.
"Unbelievable!!! Zakaria was faked out!!! He didn't correctly anticipate Oliver's move!!" The Commentator was incredulous.
Oliver didn't even use the second phase of the Phoenix Spin. He completely defeated the still-wary Zakaria with just a realistic decoy movement and a simple stop-and-pull-back change of direction. Hesitation leads to defeat; this phrase was very fitting for Zakaria at this moment. Center-back Elvedi was originally warily observing Oliver's next move. He didn't expect Zakaria to be faked out so easily. He was shocked and rushed forward to cover, but in his hurried start, his foot slipped on the grass!
"Splish!" Elvedi also lost his footing, stumbling and nearly falling.
Although he managed to stay on his feet, his center of gravity was completely messed up. Oliver keenly captured the enormous gap in the middle, without the slightest hesitation. The moment Zakaria fell and Elvedi awkwardly adjusted his center of gravity, he lightly pushed with the arch of his right foot! A moderately paced but extremely lethal low, flat cross swept towards the far post of the goal!
"Cross!!! Far post!!!"
Zakaria, who had been faked out and was scrambling to get up, watched in despair as the ball slid past his legs. Gnabry cut in from the left at high speed, meeting the incoming ball with a powerful shot. This shot was too close to the goal! Sommer once again displayed a god-like reaction, diving to the side!
"Sommer! He saved it again!!" The Commentator's voice carried a hint of lament.
But this time, the ball wasn't pushed far away. Nor did it go out of bounds; it bounced on the six-yard line. Near the penalty spot, a slender and agile figure appeared like a ghost!
De Jong!
His nose for capturing second balls was astonishingly keen. He didn't try to adjust his first touch; in his high-speed run, he directly met the rebounding ball. With the arch of his left foot taut, he pushed it steadily, aiming for the bottom right corner of the goal. At this moment, Sommer was still in the posture of saving Gnabry's shot, his body completely unable to make a second save. He could only watch as the ball skimmed the grass, grazed the inside of the post, and rolled into the net.
2-0!
"Goooooooal!!!!! De Jong!!! Rebound!!! Hoffenheim!!! 2:0!!! Game sealed!!!" The Commentator went completely wild! "This goal was absolutely clinical! From Kaderabek's tackle, to Oliver's brilliant successive fakes on two opposing defensive linchpins creating the chance, to De Jong's fatal finish!!! A perfect offensive conclusion! Oliver! Once again the key creator!"
A massive wave of sound engulfed the Rhein-Neckar Arena. All Hoffenheim players rushed towards the West Stand to celebrate wildly! Maguire picked up De Jong.
Vogt rushed over and vigorously ruffled Oliver's hair, "Well done! Robot!" De Jong shouted Oliver's nickname.
Oliver also laughed and pointed at De Jong; no matter how fancy his passes were, it was ultimately De Jong putting the ball into the net that mattered. The completely collapsed Mönchengladbach lost their fighting spirit. They pushed high, going all-in.
In the 84th minute, a corner kick attack was punched out of the penalty area by Baumann. The Hoffenheim players who controlled the ball outside were not flustered, again distributing the ball to the right wing, Kaderabek observed the huge space and launched a long pass. Uth, like a target man in the central attacking area, outjumped Elvedi, rising high. He didn't choose to head towards the goal, but instead used a beautiful flick-on header at the near post, flicking the ball to a more forward, more open area.
"Uth's flick-on!!! Great ball! Onside!!!" The Commentator's voice was very excited.
At this moment, Oliver had been roaming near the center circle in the opponent's half. The instant Uth challenged for the header, he keenly glanced sideways at the linesman's position. Then, the moment the ball was headed into the open space, he once again started running, surging forward into the enormous gap left by Mönchengladbach's high defensive line.
"Terminator!!! Oliver!!!" The entire stadium erupted.
Oliver was in a league of his own. He caught up with the ball, creating a textbook one-on-one situation. Then he burst into the penalty area at high speed, facing Sommer who had rushed out of his goal.
"Oliver, calm down! You must be calm!" Nagelsmann clenched his fists on the sidelines, muttering nervously; this scene made him unable to stand still.
Oliver dribbled towards Sommer, his speed showing no signs of slowing down. Just as the two were about to meet in close quarters, Sommer instinctively lowered his center of gravity, attempting to widen his blocking area! It was at this moment that Oliver once again displayed his killer instinct and extraordinary composure. He raised his right foot as if to take a powerful shot, and Sommer's body instinctively swayed to the left, preparing to save. It was in these few tenths of a second that Oliver's raised right ankle flicked like lightning! Although the movement was extremely small, he deftly pulled the ball from the outside of his left foot to his left side, the ball's trajectory changed!
One step! Two steps!
Oliver easily took a touch with his left foot, completely faking out Sommer, before him was a huge open goal! Composure! Extreme composure! Oliver even had time to look up at the top right corner of the goal. After confirming the position, he gracefully stretched his body and pushed the ball steadily with the arch of his left foot, creating a perfect, surgical line. Skimming the grass, it went straight into the top corner. Even as Sommer stretched out his arm the moment he lost his balance and fell, it was in vain!
3-0!
"Gooooooooooal!!!!! Oliver!!! 3:0!!! Game completely killed!!! Hoffenheim finishes Mönchengladbach with three goals!!! Oliver's personal goal! From calm to clinical! A perfect one-on-one finish!!!" The Commentator was completely ablaze!
The deafening roar of cheers almost tore the stadium roof off.
"Oliver! Oliver! Oliver!" Over thirty thousand fans screamed his name hysterically.
His teammates rushed wildly from all directions to tackle him, piling into a human mountain. Nagelsmann clenched his fists on the sidelines, excitedly bounced three times, and vigorously waved his arms. The final score was set at 3:0. The moment the final whistle blew, the stadium became an ocean of joy. Oliver was surrounded by his teammates as he walked towards the sidelines, thanking the ecstatic home fans in the stands. Nagelsmann waited for him at the player tunnel entrance, his face filled with unconcealed pride. He reached out and vigorously, forcefully ruffled his beloved disciple's sweat-soaked hair.
All praise was left unsaid.
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