Since the match was scheduled for 6:30 in the evening, Yang Yang still chose to train on the morning of game day.
His solo sessions outside the team schedule had long become routine. The coaching staff had granted him this special privilege, a quiet recognition of both his discipline and unique needs.
No one found it strange anymore.
With a ball at his feet, Yang Yang left the hotel and jogged westward toward Lake Ouderkerk. The early morning breeze carried the scent of water and fresh grass as he completed three laps around the lake, each one steady, rhythmic, and focused. Then he turned back, returned to the hotel, and went directly into the gym.
By then, Winston Bogarde was already there waiting.
The Dutch coach broke into a wide grin the moment he saw him.
"Congratulations, captain!"
Yang Yang smiled awkwardly and shook his head with a bitter laugh. "I don't feel ready."
"You'll get used to it. Captain," Bogarde said again, this time louder, laughing heartily.
The meeting the night before had gone smoothly—surprisingly so.
After Ronald Koeman announced that the captaincy would be decided by player vote, speculation swept through the room. Everyone assumed it would come down to either Yang Yang or Sneijder. The choice seemed impossible to call.
Then, unexpectedly, Sneijder stood up. At first, everyone thought he was going to put himself forward. But instead, he nominated Yang Yang.
He said it clearly, in front of everyone: Yang Yang should be the captain, and he, Wesley Sneijder, would fully support him.
The room had fallen silent in shock. No one expected Sneijder to step aside, especially not so decisively.
With Sneijder backing him, there was no real opposition. The other players, one by one, gave their support. Even Heitinga and Nigel de Jong—two players not easily impressed—acknowledged that no one else was more suitable than Yang Yang.
Heitinga's approval carried particular weight. Given the circumstances of his own removal from the captaincy, no one expected him to endorse the new leader. But he did, and sincerely.
With the local Dutch core throwing their support behind Yang Yang, the rest of the team followed. Maxwell, Vermaelen, Maicon, Yaya Touré—all of them backed him without hesitation.
Yang Yang was elected unanimously.
Back in his hotel room later that night, Sneijder quietly told him that he had never intended to compete for the armband.
"I knew from the beginning you were the right one," he said, his voice calm and genuine.
Yang Yang had replied in kind. "I didn't want to fight for it either."
"But we all believe you're the one best suited for this," Sneijder said, no hesitation in his tone.
And so, what could have turned into conflict ended in unity.
Yang Yang was now the first non-European captain in Ajax's long and storied history. A Chinese player from Asia leading one of Europe's greatest clubs—an unthinkable idea just a few years ago.
Even now, Yang Yang still found it a little surreal.
He had never dared to imagine this when he first arrived in Amsterdam. Becoming captain of Ajax was not even a goal—it had been beyond his scope.
But somehow, it had happened.
That morning, he called Su Ye in Beijing to share the news. She nearly screamed with joy over the phone, her laughter infectious and full of pride.
"I wish I could be there with you, to share this moment, to smile with you," she said, her voice both joyful and wistful.
Yang Yang had thought many times about bringing her to his side. He had the means now—he could support her, help her settle in Europe, even arrange for her studies.
But he held back.
He had dreams to chase. And Su Ye had her own path to walk.
He couldn't be selfish—not with her.
...
After returning from the gym, Yang Yang went back to his room to shower and change. Once dressed, he headed downstairs to join his teammates for breakfast.
At Ajax, strict discipline had always been a hallmark of the club's culture. Even on matchdays, meal times were regulated, with the entire squad gathering to eat at the same hour. The routine was designed to ensure players remained in peak physical condition—no exceptions.
As the newly appointed captain, Yang Yang was technically now responsible for coordinating his teammates and ensuring punctuality, especially on a game day. But for the time being, he had quietly delegated those duties to Tomáš Galásek.
The reason was simple: he was still a complete rookie when it came to this kind of leadership.
Being experienced on the pitch was one thing. Leading off it, managing routines and responsibilities—that was another matter entirely.
The moment Yang Yang entered the dining hall, several of his teammates glanced his way and smirked. Others stifled their laughter. It wasn't malicious—far from it. The mood was light, full of teasing and camaraderie. To them, Yang Yang looked like a captain still trying to figure out what that actually meant.
But that was also a testament to his standing in the group. His popularity within the team had always been high, built on mutual respect, relentless work ethic, and the performances he delivered time and again when it mattered most.
If he hadn't earned that respect, he never would've been voted captain in the first place.
"Look at our new leader," someone called out with a grin. "Can't even organize breakfast!"
"Isn't it tradition for the new captain to invite us all out for dinner?" another joked. "First official act of office, no?"
"You don't look very intimidating for a captain," a third voice chimed in. "You've got to act fiercer, Yang. Put the fear into us."
All of it was said in jest, and Yang Yang took it in stride, offering only a helpless shrug and a grin of his own.
"Alright, alright, give the man a break," Galásek finally cut in, raising his voice just enough to quiet the room. "He's got enough pressure on his shoulders already."
The laughter faded, and the group got back to their breakfast.
In truth, the vote the night before had helped diffuse what could've turned into a deeper conflict—especially among the local Dutch players and the foreign contingent. Sneijder's gesture had smoothed everything over, and Yang Yang's election brought stability rather than division.
Everyone understood that this had been the best choice for the team. And even those who had been hesitant at first were now beginning to see why.
Yang Yang might not yet have the commanding presence of a traditional captain. But what he lacked in authority, he more than made up for with integrity, consistency, and a spirit that lifted everyone around him.
For now, that was more than enough.
...
...
After lunch and the midday rest, Ajax departed from the hotel, fully recharged and ready for the evening fixture.
The drive to Roosendaal took just over an hour. Upon arrival, the team went straight to the RBC Stadion—the modest home ground of RBC Roosendaal.
Located in a small town near the southern border of the Netherlands, Roosendaal is quiet and unassuming. The stadium itself holds just over 5,000 spectators, making it one of the smaller venues in the Eredivisie. But whenever a major club like Ajax comes to town, every seat is filled, and the atmosphere turns electric.
As the Ajax players stepped onto the pitch for their pre-match warm-up, they were met with a roar from the stands.
This was the reigning UEFA Cup champion.
Among the visiting stars, Yang Yang drew the loudest reaction. His rise had been meteoric, and even the home fans couldn't help but cheer for him. His name echoed throughout the small stadium—cheered even by those who hoped to see their underdog club put up a good fight.
The locals were realistic. They knew the odds were stacked against them. But that didn't matter. For towns like Roosendaal, hosting Ajax wasn't just a match—it was an event. A celebration of football.
Once the warm-up concluded, the team returned to the dressing room. The players began their final preparations—tying boots, adjusting tape, slipping on jerseys.
That's when assistant coach Ruud Krol approached Yang Yang with something in his hand.
The captain's armband.
"For the first time, let me help you put it on," Krol said with a small smile.
Yang Yang nodded, quietly lifting his left arm.
The armband was a new model, designed with both adhesive grip and an elastic band to ensure a snug fit. Once in place, it clung securely to his bicep. It wouldn't shift or slide—not even in a full sprint.
Wearing it for the first time felt strange. The weight was barely physical, but Yang Yang could feel it all the same.
He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of his teammates, and slowly began to understand the full meaning behind the strip of cloth on his arm.
It wasn't just an honor. It was a symbol of trust—of responsibility. Of leadership.
"I promise," he said aloud, his voice firm but sincere, "I won't let any of you down."
Around the locker room, heads nodded in silent approval. One by one, as the players made their way toward the tunnel, they stopped beside Yang Yang. Each shook his hand. Some gave him a quiet clap on the shoulder. Others pulled him in for a quick hug.
This was more than ceremony.
It was a rite of passage.
Yang Yang was now the captain of Ajax.
The match against Roosendaal—Ajax's second league fixture of the season—wasn't expected to be a major challenge on paper. But every game had its tests, especially this one.
For the first time, Yang Yang would lead his team from the front. And from now on, the weight of the armband would always be with him.
...
...
Reinold Wiedemeijer, 37 years old.
This was his fourth season officiating in the Eredivisie, and yet even with that experience, he hadn't expected to find himself at the center of such a unique moment — Ajax, one of the grandest names in Dutch football, had appointed the youngest captain in their modern history.
Eighteen-year-old Yang Yang, leading Ajax onto the pitch with the captain's armband wrapped around his arm — it was a sight both unprecedented and unforgettable.
As the two teams lined up in the tunnel and walked out onto the pitch side by side, it quickly became clear to fans and media alike that something had shifted. At the front of the Ajax formation, ahead of experienced internationals, was a teenager — calm, composed, and bearing the weight of the armband with startling maturity.
"Looks like Ajax has turned a new page."
"We can see that after Heitinga's red card suspension, Vermaelen and Vlaar have been called in to stabilize the back line — that was expected. But today's surprise is who's leading them."
"Yang Yang is wearing the captain's armband tonight."
"Clearly, with Heitinga suspended, Ajax has handed leadership to the young Chinese forward."
"This 18-year-old is now the youngest captain in the Eredivisie this season. The big question — can he carry the responsibility? We're all watching."
Cheers erupted around the modest but packed RBC Stadion as Ajax's starting eleven stepped onto the pitch. Even the home fans couldn't help but applaud the UEFA Cup champions. Yang Yang, in particular, drew the loudest shouts. His rise had become a talking point far beyond Amsterdam.
As per pre-match protocol, Yang Yang approached the referee's team. Across from him stood Arjan Ebbinge, Roosendaal's 31-year-old centre-back and newly appointed captain. Ebbinge had transferred from NEC Nijmegen in the summer. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have worn the armband, but with nearly half of Roosendaal's previous season squad replaced during their relegation fight, Ebbinge was one of the few veterans left to lead.
The bald Dutch defender gave Yang Yang a surprised smile, then extended a hand with a courteous nod.
The referee, Wiedemeijer, restated the expectations: fair play, professionalism, and composure.
At the coin toss, Yang Yang won the call and chose to start with possession — part of Ajax's pre-arranged strategy to control tempo early and strike first.
He then exchanged pennants with Ebbinge, shook hands with the refereeing crew, and jogged back to his half.
The gestures were fluid, respectful — almost second nature. You wouldn't have guessed it was his debut as captain. If there was nervousness, he hid it well.
"He's doing fine," Ronald Koeman said on the sideline, watching his young captain with an approving nod. "Just needs to stay calm and play his game."
Beside him, assistant coach Ruud Krol added with a light chuckle, "He might not feel pressure, but we do. This is Ajax. And this is a moment."
Yang Yang heard them both, nodded back, and stayed quiet. He wasn't about to let this occasion overwhelm him — but deep down, he knew this wasn't just another match.
This was the beginning of a new chapter.
Captain of Ajax.
The youngest in the Eredivisie.
He had to live up to it.
...
...
At the beginning of the match, Ajax went straight onto the front foot.
Their tactical setup mirrored the aggressive strategy they had employed against ADO Den Haag — an all-out press from the front, with a narrow midfield compacting space, and fullbacks pushing high. The intent was clear: hit Roosendaal early, pin them deep, and don't give them a moment to settle.
Angelos Charisteas, deployed as the central striker, was instrumental in the opening spell. His physical presence, aerial dominance, and tireless movement occupied both of Roosendaal's centre-backs, creating pockets of space for the more technical players to exploit.
Maicon's relentless overlapping runs on the right, combined with Yaya Touré's ball-carrying through midfield, stretched the home side wide, while Sneijder and Pienaar interchanged in tight areas to keep the tempo high. Yang Yang, floating between the right flank and the half-space, operated as a constant threat with his sharp touches and positional unpredictability.
By the twelfth minute, the pressure paid off.
Yang Yang received a low diagonal pass from Maicon near the touchline on the right. With one deft touch, he let the ball roll slightly ahead before shifting his weight, facing up the Roosendaal full-back. Then, with a flick of the instep, he rolled the ball cleanly through the defender's legs — a perfectly timed nutmeg that left the crowd gasping.
Accelerating instantly, Yang Yang surged down the channel, eating up ground with rapid strides. His God Vision activated instinctively — he saw the pitch from above, every player's position unfolding like pieces on a chessboard. Roosendaal's defense was collapsing inwards, panicking.
Approaching the top edge of the penalty area, Yang Yang spotted Wesley Sneijder ghosting into space on the left edge of the box. Without breaking stride, he cut the ball across the pitch, threading it through two defenders with pinpoint precision.
Sneijder didn't hesitate.
He wrapped his right foot around the ball, striking it with the inside — a curling, controlled effort that bent away from the goalkeeper's dive and kissed the inside of the far post before nestling in the net.
One-nil to Ajax.
Sneijder let out a roar of celebration as he spun toward the corner flag, arms spread wide, before turning back and embracing Yang Yang. The two grinned at each other — a moment of chemistry between the team's creative heartbeat and its new captain.
It was Sneijder's second league goal in as many matches, and it meant something. To him, to Yang Yang, to the entire team.
Yang Yang smiled as he jogged back toward midfield, but deep inside, a fire was simmering.
He was glad for Sneijder. But tonight, he wanted one of his own. He had the armband now. The captain couldn't just lead — he had to deliver.
...
...
When the referee finally blew the whistle to signal the end of the first half, a wave of applause and cheers swept through the small but fervent crowd at RBC Stadion.
The scoreboard above the stands displayed the halftime result: Roosendaal 0 – Ajax 2.
As is standard international practice, the home team's score came first.
Ajax had dominated large portions of the first half, and the result reflected their composure and quality. The opening goal had come early — Yang Yang had sliced through the right flank and laid it perfectly on a plate for Sneijder, who bent it past the goalkeeper with clinical precision.
After that, Roosendaal held firm for a while. Urged on by their supporters, they dug in, closing down space, committing numbers behind the ball, and defending with gritty determination. But the breakthrough came again in the 37th minute. Steven Pienaar found a gap just outside the area and unleashed a low drive that skipped past the keeper's outstretched hand and nestled in the bottom corner.
2–0. Breathing room.
Yang Yang had looked lively throughout the half. He drifted wide and cut inside, switched flanks, dropped deep to link play — but when it came to finishing, the ball simply wouldn't fall for him.
There were a few moments: a clever dummy in the box that allowed him to cut in on his left foot before shooting just wide; a powerful drive from 20 yards that was smothered by the keeper; a quick one-two with Charisteas that was broken up by a last-ditch tackle. Promising flashes, but no end product.
As he walked toward the tunnel at halftime, Yang Yang wore a complicated expression — somewhere between frustration and reluctant amusement. He had pushed hard, carved open chances, but couldn't find the net.
When he caught up with Sneijder and Pienaar near the touchline, the midfielder patted his back with a smirk.
"Don't worry," Sneijder said with calm reassurance. "Keep playing like that, it'll come."
Maicon jogged up alongside them, flashing a grin. "Yeah, man. The more you chase it, the further it runs. Just relax — let the goal come to you."
Yang Yang chuckled under his breath. "Feels like their defenders got that memo too."
The Brazilian laughed. "They've got three on you every time. Take it as a compliment."
Yang Yang nodded, then lightly tapped both Sneijder and Maicon on the shoulder, his smile returning — though tinged with a bit of hunger. This was his first match as Ajax captain. Everyone had been doing their part to make it a memorable one for him. And while the team was ahead, he still felt that lingering itch — the desire to mark it with something personal, something decisive.
He didn't want to leave the pitch tonight as just the captain who almost scored.
...
...
After switching sides for the second half, Ajax wasted no time asserting their dominance again.
Their high-pressing system had become second nature — coordinated, relentless, and suffocating. Roosendaal, who had already struggled under the pressure in the first half, were now pinned deeper into their own half, their clearances becoming increasingly desperate.
Yang Yang, wearing the captain's armband for the first time in an Eredivisie match, continued his relentless movement off the ball. He scanned for space, dragged defenders out of shape, and patiently waited for the right moment.
And in the 56th minute, it arrived.
Maicon had surged into the attacking third, carrying the ball toward the 30-metre mark, but two Roosendaal defenders quickly closed in. With no room to advance, the Brazilian looked up and spotted Yang Yang darting into space on the inside right channel.
Yang raised his hand.
The pass was immediate.
The ball rolled to Yang Yang's feet with no defender within arm's reach. He controlled it effortlessly and pivoted with fluid grace, his body already angling forward. One touch to turn, then a sudden burst of pace — he glided past the line of retreating midfielders and drove directly toward the edge of the penalty box.
Charisteas, playing as the lone centre forward, timed his movement perfectly. He cut across the top of the box, dragging a defender wide and peeling toward the right side, creating a narrow corridor in front of Yang Yang.
Roosendaal's defence, wary of the danger, adjusted quickly — but not quickly enough.
Just before they could close the trap, Yang Yang slipped the ball into Charisteas' path on the right side of the penalty area. As the Greek striker received the ball and shielded it with his back to goal, Roosendaal's defenders converged on him. They were so preoccupied with the threat of a turn-and-shoot that they failed to notice Yang Yang slipping into the space they'd just abandoned.
Charisteas didn't hesitate. With his back still to goal, he played a clever diagonal layoff back to the top of the arc.
Yang Yang was already there.
One touch to settle. Another to explode.
He darted into the box, left one defender off-balance, and just as the goalkeeper rushed off his line to close the angle, Yang Yang calmly lifted the ball with a delicate chip.
The ball floated cleanly over the keeper, cleared his fingertips, and dropped into the back of the net.
3–0.
The stadium erupted.
And then came the voice of the commentator, electrified with emotion.
"Gooooooooooooooooal !!!!!!
Yang Yang finally scored!
In the fifty-sixth minute, Yang Yang made a very ingenious frontcourt cooperation with center Charlie Stasi, calmly rushing to the box before chipping the ball over the goalkeeper's head!
What a cheeky goal from Yang Yang!
This is Ajax's third goal of the game and Yang Yang's third league goal of the season already!
We can clearly see that Yang Yang is better than the previous season in terms of status and overall ability, which makes us look forward to him even more.
We have every reason to believe that Yang Yang will be able to bring us more surprises and shocks again this season."
On the pitch, Yang Yang sprinted toward the corner flag, punching the air with satisfaction. The teammates followed behind, surrounding him in celebration.
...
...
Ajax didn't take their foot off the gas after the third goal.
Yang Yang kept pushing hard on the pitch. With every minute, he felt his sharpness return, his movements smoother, his anticipation keener. Confidence surged through him. He wanted more.
Just nine minutes after his last goal, Ajax came again.
Down the right, Pienaar slipped a pass into space for Maicon, who surged past his marker and reached the byline. The Brazilian whipped in a cross with pace and curl, aiming for the danger zone.
The ball was struck beautifully — but a little too close to goal.
Roosendaal's keeper Mark Volders launched himself forward to punch it clear. He got a hand to it just before crashing into Charisteas, but the ball spun loose, falling toward the left side of the penalty spot.
Yang Yang was already there.
He read it perfectly.
As the ball dropped, he met it in full stride and struck a clean volley with his left foot. It tore through the air and slammed into the back of the net before anyone could react.
4–0.
The stadium erupted.
Yang Yang sprinted toward the corner flag and dropped into a smooth knee slide. As he glided, he placed one hand across his chest and brought two fingers of his right hand to his forehead, holding the pose as his teammates rushed over to celebrate.
From the press box above, the commentator's voice rose through the stadium speakers.
"What a strike from Yang Yang!"
"A stunning volley! His second of the night, and what a way to announce himself as Ajax's new captain!"
"Two games, two braces — the 19-year-old from China is not just in form, he's on fire!"
"You can feel the energy around him. Every time he touches the ball, something happens. The crowd loves it. Ajax loves it."
"Roosendaal had no answer for that. You can't coach instinct like this."
...
Ronald Koeman clenched both fists on the touchline and let out a quiet cheer.
Cautious by nature, Koeman was never the type of manager to cling rigidly to his ideas. In fact, ever since his early days coaching at Vitesse, he had earned praise for his flexibility — always willing to adapt his tactical approach to suit the players at his disposal.
He was also well-known for repositioning players, using role changes to transform both individuals and team dynamics.
Now, after just two rounds of league football, Yaya Touré looked poised to become another example of Koeman's sharp eye for reinvention. A player many initially saw as a holding midfielder was being molded into a forward-driving engine — and it was working.
Ajax's new system wasn't just clicking. It was devastating.
"Ruud," Koeman said with a grin, turning to his assistant. "I have a very strong feeling about this season. I don't think anyone in the Eredivisie can stop us."
Ruud Krol nodded, watching the fluid movement of the midfield trio. He shared the same belief.
Ajax's attack had been completely rejuvenated.
The aggressive pressing of Yaya Touré and Sneijder, paired with Nigel de Jong's holding presence, had turned the midfield into a zone of total control. From there, waves of attacks flowed forward with speed and variety.
Charisteas operated as a reliable pivot up front, drawing defenders and creating space. Pienaar's clever positioning and link-up play helped bridge the midfield to the attack. And all of it fed into Yang Yang, who had found himself with more freedom than ever in the final third — and was making the most of it.
Koeman's smile didn't fade.
He had coached in this league long enough to know the signs. The football Ajax was playing now — fast, aggressive, fluid — was a nightmare for most Eredivisie sides.
"Yes," Krol agreed. "If we keep playing like this… it's ours."
Of course, it was still early. Just two matchdays in. Football was unpredictable. Form could shift, players could fall off, and pressure always grew as the months wore on.
But even with all that considered, Ajax were already the frontrunners — and comfortably so.
PSV Eindhoven, still reeling from the departure of Mark van Bommel, looked weakened. They had yet to find a reliable replacement and were struggling for rhythm.
Feyenoord, meanwhile, were more stable under Erwin Koeman, but their more conservative tactics had come at a price. They'd conceded fewer goals, yes, but their attacking threat had dulled. Without sustained service, Kuyt might struggle to replicate last season's scoring exploits.
By contrast, Ajax looked bold. Dynamic. Relentless.
As long as they stuck to this formula — sharp pressing, aggressive build-up, and a frontline firing on all cylinders — Yang Yang would be one of the most dangerous players in the league.
And Ajax… they could run away with the title.
...
...
After scoring four goals, Ajax eased their intensity going forward.
Roosendaal had been thoroughly outplayed and were finally able to find some composure, attempting to mount a few attacks of their own. There was no realistic chance of a comeback—everyone in the stadium knew that—but pride was still at stake. They just wanted something to show for the night, perhaps a goal to save face, to avoid being completely shut out.
But just as that intent began to take shape, it collapsed in midfield.
Nigel de Jong read the play early and stepped in to intercept a lateral pass just beyond the halfway line. Without hesitating, he knocked it forward to Wesley Sneijder. Ajax's tempo rose in an instant.
Sneijder looked up and spotted movement. His pass was clinical, threading the gap between Roosendaal's left-back and left centre-back.
Yang Yang had already timed his run to perfection.
Beating the offside trap, he sprinted through the channel and latched onto the ball ahead of the retreating defenders. As the goalkeeper rushed out to narrow the angle, Yang Yang executed a smooth step-over followed by a sudden body feint—sending the keeper lunging the wrong way. He sidestepped calmly, and with the goal gaping, slotted the ball into the net.
It was Ajax's fifth goal. His third of the night.
A hat-trick.
Yang Yang ran around the back of the goal, slowing down only to drop to his knees and slide across the grass. Arms spread wide, face lifted, a roar in his throat. His teammates stormed toward him, pouring in from all directions.
"Hat trick!" the commentator shouted. "A hat trick for Yang Yang!"
"And what a way to finish it—cool under pressure, just like we've seen from the very best."
"The way he stepped past the goalkeeper—just like Ronaldo used to do—and then tucked it away without a second thought."
"Five league goals in two matches. Eighteen years old. Just let that sink in."
"Forget the so-called rookie wall. He's already broken through it."
"We're looking at a forward who's not just leading Ajax—he's becoming the face of Dutch football."
"Don't be surprised if his name starts to appear in the top scorers lists across Europe again this season."
The Ajax bench stood in applause. Even Ronald Koeman couldn't hold back a grin.
Despite only two rounds being played, it was clear to everyone watching that this team was different.
Ajax now had structure, momentum, belief—and above all, unity.
Yaya Touré, the bold recommendation from Yang Yang himself, had proven his worth. He brought dynamism and pressure to midfield, complementing De Jong's anchoring presence and Sneijder's creativity. Charlie Steas provided the physical pivot, Pienaar's positioning gave constant support, and the defensive unit remained solid.
And leading it all was Yang Yang. Eighteen years old. Captain of Ajax.
It didn't matter that the season had just begun. The energy was real. The shift was obvious.
This was no longer a team searching for its rhythm.
It had found it. And everyone—coaches, players, fans—could feel what was coming.
Together, they were ready to take on the Eredivisie.
And soon, the rest of Europe.