The second round of the Eredivisie was scheduled for Saturday. Ajax used Friday's session primarily for tactical preparation.
Their upcoming opponent, Roosendaal, wasn't expected to pose a serious threat. They had narrowly avoided relegation last season — not by excelling, but because De Graafschap and Den Bosch had performed even worse.
So there was no real pressure on Ajax going into the match. Training was relaxed, and the squad's mood reflected that.
Still, as usual, the team checked into their hotel the night before the match.
Yang Yang, no longer the inexperienced newcomer, had his routine down. He packed efficiently and didn't bother going home in between.
Later that evening, after finishing a shower and getting changed at the club's facilities, he walked out of the locker room with his bag — only to find Ruud Krol waiting for him.
"I knew you'd still be here," the assistant coach said with a knowing grin. "I'll drive you over."
Yang Yang smiled and accepted the offer without hesitation. Together, they walked to the parking lot.
The hotel Ajax had booked was near the Amsterdam Arena — close enough to walk, but just far enough that driving was more practical.
As they settled into the car and Krol started the engine, Yang Yang could already sense where this was going.
Sure enough, once the car began moving, Krol spoke up.
"We had another meeting with the technical staff this afternoon," he said, keeping his eyes on the road. "An hour. The main topic was the captaincy."
Yang Yang said nothing. He knew the issue hadn't gone away.
Since the incident against Den Haag, conversations had been swirling quietly — players exchanging thoughts, ideas floated, opinions shared. Vermaelen and Maicon, among others, had pulled Yang aside and encouraged him to step forward.
"You're the heartbeat of this team now," Vermaelen had told him.
"Why not wear the armband? It's already yours in everything but name."
Heitinga, it was clear, was no longer considered captain material. And if he was out, the natural spotlight shifted to Yang Yang.
"Zlatan tried to grab it every way he could," Vermaelen had said with a smirk. "All you have to do is stretch out your hand, and it's yours. So why not go for it?"
But Yang Yang wasn't so sure.
"The technical staff is leaning toward you," Krol said plainly.
Yang Yang looked over, surprised.
He had assumed the staff would remain conservative — choosing a product of the youth academy, someone more deeply rooted in the Ajax system. It was, after all, the Ajax way.
"Sneijder still lacks something," Krol continued. "And Heitinga… has too much of something. If we could blend them together, it'd be easy. But we can't."
Yang Yang gave a small nod. "I just think… maybe I'm not qualified yet."
He wasn't wrong. At 18, and just over two years into the squad, Yang Yang had lit up the Eredivisie, but he hadn't grown within Ajax's academy ranks. He wasn't a "homegrown" symbol. And in the politics of a big club's dressing room, that mattered.
He remembered how Ibrahimović had once clashed with Van der Vaart over this same topic. Zlatan had tried to claim the armband but lacked the club's backing. He wasn't a local product, and that turned people against him.
Now, Heitinga had been removed. If Yang Yang stepped up too quickly, would it reopen those same divisions?
He didn't want to divide the squad over something symbolic.
He didn't need the captaincy to lead.
From the beginning of the season, his focus had been clear: deliver in the Champions League. If he performed, if he scored, his next move would come naturally. The armband wouldn't change that. But infighting could derail everything — the team's cohesion, their rhythm, and ultimately, their results.
"I get it," Krol said with a quiet laugh. "We all know that's your only 'weak link.' But even knowing that, we don't see anyone else more suitable than you."
Yang Yang didn't respond, but he knew it was true.
Ruud Krol had been around long enough to know every player's personality and place. His judgment carried weight.
"We're going to hold a vote tonight," Krol added. "Let the squad decide."
Yang Yang nodded. That, he could accept. Let the group speak.
"It's the best way forward," Krol said. "And listen — don't show your cards just yet. Let things unfold naturally."
Yang Yang agreed.
If the team chose Sneijder, or anyone else, he'd support them completely. His role wouldn't change.
His priority wasn't wearing the armband.
It was keeping the team together, pushing them forward, and seizing his moment in the Champions League — one that might soon launch him into the next chapter of his career.
That was what mattered.
...
...
After arriving at the hotel, Ruud Krol dropped Yang Yang off at the entrance before heading off to park the car himself.
Yang Yang stepped into the hotel and made his way to his usual room.
To his surprise, his roommate Sneijder wasn't there yet.
"He actually arrived a while ago," said Vermaelen, who appeared suddenly at the door.
"Oh?" Yang Yang began unpacking.
"He went to speak with the boss."
Yang Yang paused slightly, his brows furrowing for a moment, but he quickly composed himself.
He knew Sneijder well. On the surface, he was mild and soft-spoken, but deep down he had a fierce pride. If he truly wanted to fight for the captaincy, he would give it everything. And truthfully, he did have a legitimate claim.
He was Ajax's most emblematic academy product, the heartbeat of their midfield, and someone who understood the club's culture better than anyone.
If Sneijder really wanted it, Yang Yang wouldn't mind supporting him.
"You're seriously not worried at all?" Vermaelen asked with a hint of frustration.
Yang Yang gave a calm smile. "You know exactly what I care about most. Right now, what matters is that the team stays united."
"But I still think you're the better choice. I wouldn't follow anyone else without question, but I'd follow you."
Yang Yang chuckled and shook his head. "You'd really be fine with me wearing the armband?"
"Absolutely."
"And yet you're always trying to outplay me every day," Yang Yang teased.
"That's... that's different!" Vermaelen protested. "You're my benchmark. Competing with you pushes me forward."
"Oh, so if I become captain, you'll aim to take it from me later?"
"If the opportunity comes, I'd want it, yeah. Don't pretend you don't want it either."
"Sure, it'd be nice, but it's not something I need," Yang Yang replied nonchalantly.
Vermaelen rubbed his head in frustration. "Sometimes, I wish you had Zlatan's selfish streak."
"Get lost," Yang Yang laughed, shoving him lightly. "Zlatan a little unreasonable? That guy redefined the word."
As they joked, the door to the room opened.
Sneijder stepped in, hesitating slightly when he saw Yang Yang.
"Hey, Wesley," Yang Yang greeted warmly, just as he always did. "You're a bit later than usual."
Sneijder offered an awkward smile. "I was speaking with the coach."
Yang Yang nodded without probing further. After finishing his unpacking, he opened his laptop and started analyzing footage of Roosendaal, their opponents the next day.
They weren't the strongest side, but it was still the Eredivisie. It never hurt to prepare thoroughly.
"The boss said we should head to the meeting room once we've packed," Sneijder said, already organizing his things.
Then, without another word, he left to inform the others.
"See what I mean?" Vermaelen muttered. "He's already warming up to the captain's duties."
Yang Yang simply smiled and shook his head.
In truth, he had always had a good relationship with Sneijder—they were roommates, after all.
Thanks to that bond, Vermaelen also got along well with Sneijder. They often played cards together in the evenings. But when it came time to choose a leader, Vermaelen had still thrown his support behind Yang Yang.
Of course, this was just about an armband, nothing more. Not worth losing sleep over.
...
...
Yang Yang was among the last to enter the conference room, his expression calm and unreadable.
As he walked in, he could feel eyes drifting his way. Teammates were quietly watching him, curious to see whether his face would betray anything—ambition, anxiety, or perhaps even reluctance. But Yang Yang simply smiled, greeting them as always, offering nothing to dissect.
He sat down between Sneijder and Maxwell, with Vermaelen on his other side. They exchanged brief nods, but the room quickly quieted as Ronald Koeman and Ruud Krol entered together.
The atmosphere shifted immediately. All conversation faded, and every head turned toward the coaching staff at the front of the room.
Koeman didn't waste time. He addressed the team directly, explaining that due to Heitinga's suspension in the last match, the captain's position needed to be re-evaluated. Though he didn't state it outright, everyone understood what he meant: Heitinga was being removed as captain.
The defender himself showed no reaction. He had clearly been informed earlier and was prepared for the announcement.
"In the past," Koeman said, scanning the room, "the captain was typically chosen by the coaching staff. But football is changing, and so are we. This is a young team, and we want to give you, the players, a voice."
A few quiet chuckles spread across the room. Ajax had always been a team built on youth, so the idea of handing them more responsibility wasn't a surprise—it was a natural evolution.
"That's why we've decided that this time, the captain will be chosen by a vote. Every player in the first team will have a say. Before we move on to that, anyone who wishes to propose a candidate may do so now."
The moment he finished speaking, the room stirred slightly. Murmurs and whispers passed from one row to the next, while some exchanged glances to gauge the mood.
Voting for a captain wasn't unprecedented. Everyone remembered what happened in 2004 at Barcelona, when Luis Enrique retired. The armband wasn't simply handed out; the players voted, and Carles Puyol emerged as the clear and rightful leader. It had sparked plenty of conversation across Europe.
Now, Ajax was doing the same.
But what happened next caught everyone off guard.
As soon as Koeman gave the floor, Wesley Sneijder stood up from his chair.
A ripple of surprise passed through the players. Was he stepping forward to nominate someone?
Or was he putting his own name forward?
Either way, the room suddenly felt a lot more tense.