There was no formal opening ceremony. Even for the first round of the new season, both sides played in a laid-back manner, as if it were just a friendly.
After a quick group photo, the two teams returned to their respective benches.
Schalke 04's opponents that day were Rostock — a side relegated from the 2. Bundesliga the previous season.
Once the dominant force in East German football, Rostock had a proud history.
They won the last-ever East German league and cup double in 1990/91, earning a place in the unified Bundesliga after German reunification.
But they survived just one top-flight season before dropping to the second tier. Three years of fighting saw them return to the Bundesliga in 1995 and hold their place for a while.
What followed was years of desperate relegation battles.
Plagued by financial shortages, they finally went down again in 2004/05.
Since then, the loss of key players left them struggling even in the 2. Bundesliga, with promotion a distant dream.
Last season, Rostock suffered a historic drop into the 3. Liga.
Club officials resigned, the team was put up for sale, and only a fan-led crowdfunding campaign kept the club alive.
Even so, Rostock's quality was not to be underestimated.
Their starting lineup was full of players with Bundesliga experience — albeit in the twilight of their careers.
Their technique and game intelligence were genuine top-flight level.
Within seconds of kickoff, Daniel was already frowning on the touchline.
Schalke stuck to their familiar 4–3–3 shape:
Whit Benedict led the line, with Halim O'Shea and Ben Kersey in midfield.
But against Rostock's experienced pair — 36-year-old Cetkovic and 35-year-old Beinlich — the naive Ben Kersey and impulsive Halim O'Shea were completely outmatched.
Schalke pushed high and fast from the start, eager to attack.
Before the game, Daniel had been clear:
Use pace to break them down, and stamina to wear out their aging legs.
So when Halim O'Shea received a layoff from Whit Benedict, he immediately surged forward.
He barely took a few touches before Beinlich slid in hard, taking both man and ball.
The referee, standing just yards away, kept his arms out and waved play on.
Beinlich got up and instantly clipped a wide diagonal pass to Bartels, Rostock's young winger sprinting down the right.
With a smooth first touch on his right foot, the pacey Rostock academy product took on Schalke left-back Morton Jim.
Bartels simply nudged the ball right, accelerated, and breezed past the unprepared full-back.
Schalke's defense panicked at once.
Rostock's striker was Hahninger — a veteran who'd joined on a free from Hamburger SV the previous season.
At 1.92m, he'd dominated in the air for Hamburg, let alone against Schalke's teenagers in the 3. Liga.
Sure enough, Bartels took two strides and smashed a cross into the box.
Inside the area, Hahninger towered over Esther Scott and Webster Jeffery — outclassing them in height, technique and experience.
He easily rose above the pair and powered a header toward goal.
Whistle!
Schalke 04, playing at home, had conceded after just 1 minute and 3 seconds.
Rostock's bench erupted in celebration, players and coaches hugging each other.
Hahninger barely reacted. He glanced coldly at the fallen Schalke defenders, then slowly walked back to his own half.
"Damn you, Halim! What's wrong with you? I told them over and over — use speed and quick passes to wear them out, not charge in like an idiot!"
Daniel was furious. He hurled his water bottle to the ground.
The small crowd of home fans also erupted in anger:
"Shit! What is this garbage? Is this Schalke 04?"
"Tickets are cheap, but this is a joke! Conceded in a minute to a bunch of old men!"
"Did our defenders even try? He's 37 — can't we handle a veteran?"
"Bloody awful!"
Su Bai was surprised by how crude the fans were.
On TV, Bundesliga supporters always looked loyal and orderly, in jerseys and scarves. Nothing like this.
"Su, this is the 3. Liga. Swearing is mild. If we play really badly, these guys have come onto the pitch and started fights before," backup goalkeeper Smedley Lev whispered beside him.
Su Bai shuddered.
Daniel kept shouting. The Rostock manager smiled calmly.
Su Bai looked up at the big screen:
1 – 0
Is this the 3. Liga?
It was far rougher than he'd imagined.
The game settled into a scrappy pattern.
The ball flew back and forth constantly. Su Bai's eyes began to ache.
For 30 full minutes, the ball barely rolled on the grass.
One touch, one long ball, wide to the flank, a cross — that was the entire plan.
There was almost no through-ball play, no build-up through the middle.
The midfield might as well not have existed.
The match was painfully boring, interrupted only by rough fouls and the referee's whistle.
Schalke's 3. Liga opener left Su Bai utterly astonished.