The flight to Rome should have been exciting. Instead, Andrei spent it sleeping fitfully, his body demanding rest it wasn't getting.
SS Lazio was a different level from anything FCSB had faced. The club had won Serie A twice, the Cup Winners' Cup, multiple Coppa Italia titles. Their stadium, the Olimpico, hosted World Cup finals and European Championship matches.
This was the big time.
Europa League Round of 16 - First Leg
SS Lazio vs FCSB
Stadio Olimpico, Rome
March 16th, 2017
Lazio Starting XI (3-5-2):
GK: Thomas Strakosha
CB: Stefan de Vrij
CB: Wesley Hoedt
CB: Bastos
RM: Dusan Basta
CM: Sergej Milinković-Savić
CM: Marco Parolo
CM: Lucas Biglia
LM: Jordan Lukaku
ST: Ciro Immobile
ST: Felipe Anderson
The names alone were intimidating. Immobile was one of Serie A's top scorers, Milinković-Savić was valued at €40 million, De Vrij was a Dutch international. This was a team that could—and should—comfortably beat Romanian opposition.
FCSB Starting XI (4-5-1) - Ultra-defensive:
GK: Andrei Vlad
DEF (RB): Romario Benzar
CB: Marko Momčilović
CB: Ionuț Panțîru
DEF (LB): Risto Radunović
RM: Florinel Coman
CDM: Mihai Pintilii (C)
CM: Filipe Teixeira
CM: Gabriel Enache
LM: Andrei Luca
ST: Denis Alibec
Reghecampf's tactics were simple: survive the first leg without conceding too many, then attack at home. Andrei was deployed as a left midfielder—more defensive than his usual role, with instructions to track Jordan Lukaku, the Belgian left wing-back.
The Olimpico was imposing—72,000 seats, though only 35,000 were filled for a Europa League match. Still, the atmosphere was intense, Roman fans expecting a routine victory.
From kickoff, Lazio dominated. Their technical quality was obvious—crisp passing, intelligent movement, constant pressure. FCSB couldn't get out of their own half.
In the 12th minute, Milinković-Savić struck from distance. Vlad saved brilliantly. In the 19th, Immobile's header crashed against the crossbar.
FCSB was being suffocated.
Andrei spent the half chasing shadows. Lukaku was too fast, too strong. Every time Andrei thought he had position, the Belgian was already gone. And when Lazio attacked down the other side, Andrei had to sprint across to help Benzar with Felipe Anderson.
Physical Output:
Distance covered (first half): 6.2 km
Sprints: 18
Stamina: 24% (dangerously low)
By the 35th minute, Andrei's legs were screaming. Every run felt like moving through concrete. He missed a tackle on Lukaku—too slow, too tired—and the Belgian crossed perfectly for Immobile.
The Italian striker finished clinically. 1-0 Lazio.
Andrei collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. Pintilii pulled him up.
"Keep going! Half over soon!"
Halftime was relief. Andrei could barely walk to the dressing room. The team doctor examined him quickly.
"You're completely exhausted. I'm recommending substitution."
"No," Andrei said immediately.
"You're at risk of injury—"
"I said no."
Reghecampf intervened. "Can he continue safely?"
The doctor hesitated. "Physically? Barely. But it's not advisable."
"Andrei?" The coach looked at him. "Your call."
Every fiber of his body screamed to come off, to rest. But Inter Milan's scouts were in the stadium. This was his audition.
"I can continue."
The second half was agony. Lazio smelled blood and attacked relentlessly. In the 58th minute, Felipe Anderson cut inside and curled a shot past Vlad. 2-0.
In the 71st minute, Lazio's substitute striker Keita Baldé made it 3-0.
The match was over. Andrei came off in the 75th minute, replaced by fresh legs. He collapsed on the bench, barely conscious, while the physio worked on his cramping calves.
Match Rating: 4.8/10
Worst performance of season
Physical collapse: Complete
Final score: Lazio 3-0 FCSB.
A devastating defeat.
In the away dressing room, silence reigned. The Europa League dream was probably over—three goals was a mountain to climb.
Andrei sat in the shower for twenty minutes, letting scalding water pound against his aching muscles. He'd given everything and it hadn't been enough. His body had betrayed him at the worst possible moment.
Critical System Alert:
Physical breakdown occurred
Immediate rest mandatory
Continued play risks serious injury
All attributes temporarily reduced by -2 until recovery
The team flew home that night. Andrei slept through the entire flight, his body finally shutting down completely.
Elena met him at the airport again. One look at his face told her everything.
"You need to withdraw from the next match," she said, not a suggestion but a statement.
"I can't—"
"Yes, you can. And you will." Her voice was steel. "I'm calling Reghecampf myself if you don't."
"You can't do that—"
"Watch me. Andrei, you collapsed. On television, in front of 35,000 people and millions watching at home. Your body is screaming at you to stop. Please, for once, listen to it."
They drove to her apartment in silence. She helped him to bed, and he slept for fourteen hours straight.
When he woke, his phone had seventeen missed calls from Sarmale, his agent.
He called back.
"Andrei, we need to talk about Rome," Sarmale said carefully. "The performance wasn't good—"
"I know."
"—but the bigger issue is what it revealed. You looked exhausted. Overplayed. The Italian scouts noticed."
Andrei's stomach sank. "Are they still interested?"
"Yes, but they're concerned about durability. About whether you can handle a full season at Serie A intensity." Sarmale paused. "They want to see how you recover. How you handle the second leg."
"I'll be fine."
"Will you? Because if you break down again, Andrei, the interest disappears. These clubs invest millions. They need reliability."
After hanging up, Andrei stared at the ceiling of Elena's bedroom. She was at work, giving him space to process.
The system displayed his current state:
Overall Rating: 69.5/99 (temporary reduction from fatigue)
Physical State: Severely compromised
Recovery time needed: 7-10 days minimum
Next match: 4 days
Impossible to recover in time. But what choice did he have?
His phone buzzed. A text from his mother in Iași:
I watched the match. You looked so tired, dragul meu. Please rest. Football can wait. Your health cannot.
Tears welled in his eyes. When had this stopped being fun? When had the beautiful game become this burden he carried?
Elena came home that evening with groceries and determination.
"I talked to Reghecampf," she announced.
"Elena—"
"Don't. He's resting you for the weekend league match. Non-negotiable. You'll train lightly, recover properly, and be ready for the Lazio second leg."
"You had no right—"
"I had every right. As someone who cares about you. As someone who doesn't want to watch you destroy yourself." She sat beside him on the bed. "And Reghecampf agreed. He said he'd been considering it anyway. He saw what I saw—you're running on empty."
Andrei wanted to be angry. Instead, he just felt relief.
"Thank you," he whispered.
They spent the weekend together—no football, no training, no pressure. Just two young people being normal. They walked through Herăstrău Park, ate mici and mujdei at a street vendor, went to a movie. Elena made him laugh, made him forget the weight he'd been carrying.
By Monday, Andrei felt human again.
Recovery Progress:
Physical State: 68% restored
Mental State: Improved significantly
Stamina: 64/99 (recovering)
Overall Rating: 70.2/99 (returning to form)
The second leg against Lazio was at home. Three-goal deficit. Near-impossible odds. But at least now, Andrei had a chance of actually being able to perform.
"Feeling better?" Tănase asked at training.
"Much better."
"Good. Because Thursday night, we need miracles. And you're the kid who delivers those."
Andrei smiled. Maybe the captain was right.
Maybe there was still magic left in the beautiful game.