Evening settled over the VfL training ground as David Qin sat by the pitch, bathed in the warmth of the setting sun. He cherished these quiet moments of solitude after the intensity of training had faded.
Ivica Olić plopped down beside him. "David, the Boss wanted me to pass something along. Personally, I don't think it's necessary, but he was worried that if he told you himself, you might think he's unhappy with you."
David turned his head, his curiosity piqued. "Ivica, just say it. You know me better than that—why would I take something like this to heart?"
"It's about a habit you have when you're on the ball," Olić said with a smile. "You tend to look down. I know it's a subconscious reaction—everyone does it to some extent—but it's definitely affecting your vision."
Olić gestured toward the vast expanse of the pitch. "Your performances lately have been great, but most of them involved one-on-ones or one-on-twos. You haven't really attempted many long-range passes, have you? If you want to become a truly elite player, you have to overcome that instinct. You need to see the bigger picture."
David nodded in agreement. Now that Olić had pointed it out, he realized it was a genuine blind spot in his game. "Do you have any advice on how to fix it?"
"Unfortunately, I can't help you there. But I know someone who can." Olić nudged his chin toward the left. "Kevin. I don't think anyone in this squad sees the pitch better than he does. Sometimes it feels like he's playing with a God-view perspective. You've felt it too during matches, right?"
"Absolutely," David said, pushing himself up. "Kevin's passing... it really is something else. I'll go learn from him. Tell the Boss for me that he can come to me directly next time. I like to think I'm pretty mature."
"Dammit! Making me the messenger again," Olić grumbled. "Can't you just tell him yourself?"
David merely offered a waving silhouette as he walked away. Creeping up behind Kevin De Bruyne, he tapped the Belgian on the left shoulder and quickly hid on the opposite side. To his surprise, De Bruyne turned around with pinpoint accuracy and a helpless expression.
"I can hear you walking, David."
"Fair enough. I thought you had eyes in the back of your head," David grinned. "I'm here to learn how to widen my vision, especially while I'm carrying the ball."
September 28, 2014. Round 6 of the Bundesliga arrived. Wolfsburg versus Werder Bremen.
Werder Bremen was not only De Bruyne's former club but also a historical giant of German football. Nestled on the Peterwerder banks of the Weser River, they had claimed four Bundesliga titles—a tally surpassed only by Bayern Munich's double digits and Gladbach's five. Coincidentally, their former sporting director, Klaus Allofs, was now the man running things at Wolfsburg.
Under the 14-year tenure of Allofs and manager Thomas Schaaf, Bremen had been transformed into an attacking juggernaut that prioritized entertainment. However, constant player turnover had saw their fortunes dip, leaving them as a mid-table side.
"While we wait for kickoff, let's talk a bit about Wolfsburg," the commentator He Wei said, having done extensive homework.
"Since their first promotion as Bundesliga 2 runners-up in 1997-98, Wolfsburg has been a mainstay. Icons like Stefan Effenberg, Andrés D'Alessandro, and Marcelinho have all called this place home. Backed by the Volkswagen Group, the club has never lacked for funds—take the massive signing of André Schürrle, for instance. Yet, for a long time, the club struggled to shake the image of being 'new money'—the nouveau riche with big gold chains and small gold watches."
"Because they are one of only two clubs in the German system entirely owned by a corporation—a 'factory team'—many see them as an anomaly," He Wei continued. "The President of Eintracht Frankfurt once argued that VW's funding created unfair competition, while Dortmund's Watzke insisted that the 50+1 rule is the bedrock of the league. Furthermore, under Felix Magath, the club developed a habit of 'cleansing' the squad every six months, once using a league-record 36 players in a single season."
He Wei had been stunned by the data. How did a team known for such frantic buying and selling become the force they were today? The answer lay in the pairing of Allofs and Dieter Hecking. The former brought ambition; the latter, pragmatism. Together, they turned Wolfsburg into a Werder Bremen that actually had money. The winter signing of Kevin De Bruyne for 22 million euros was the masterstroke.
"Here's an interesting statistic," He Wei added. "Three years ago, a market research firm found that a Sky Sports broadcast of Wolfsburg vs. Leverkusen was watched by only 5,000 people. Their last match? Nearly 670,000. For comparison, Bayern vs. Hamburg drew 1.02 million." He didn't even mention the Chinese broadcast numbers; those would have given German fans a heart attack.
Back on the pitch, Wolfsburg found the rhythm they had lost in their draw against Hertha Berlin. In the 18th minute, Ricardo Rodríguez surged down the wing and fired a pass toward David Qin on the left side of the box. David feinted a shot, letting the ball nutmeg him instead.
Behind him, De Bruyne didn't even take a touch, sliding a perfectly weighted vertical ball through the Bremen defense. The pass found Olić lurking in the box; the veteran kept his cool, slotting the ball under Raphael Wolf to make it 1-0!
Wolfsburg continued to press, but bad luck saw them rattle the woodwork twice before the halftime whistle blew.
In the dressing room, David saw a familiar face—or rather, a rival: Ivan Perišić. The Croatian had been sidelined since the World Cup and had only recently returned to full training. Hecking had included him in the squad today to see if there was an opportunity for a cameo.
Perišić glanced at David, maintaining a stoic mask while feeling a pang of bitterness. Dammit. I was gone for two months and my starting spot was snatched by a 17-year-old. Still, having watched David's matches, he couldn't help but admire the kid's talent—it was a spark he himself hadn't possessed at that age. But Perišić wasn't without his own strengths: balance. He was truly two-footed, capable of crossing, dribbling, or even playmaking. He was industrious, possessed immense stamina, and was relentless in defense. He believed he could win his spot back.
And if he couldn't beat David for the left-wing spot? There was always the right wing. I might not be able to outshine David Qin, but surely I can outplay Caligiuri.
---------
If you want to read ahead, head over to: p@treon .com/HappyCrow
As always, thank you for the support, the comments, and those precious power stones!