S04 (0 - 0) VfB – 7th Minute
Che had every reason to feel nervous—just like that first match he ever played. But this time? He was calm.
He drifted away from the defenders, finding space deeper in midfield where it was easier to get on the ball.
The game was still settling, the ball shifting between teammates. Then finally—it came to him again.
Three players closed in.
Again.
But this time? Che was ready. With quick footwork, he shifted the ball from one foot to the other and slipped out of the pressure like it was nothing.
Everyone watching expected him to lose it. Instead, he came out of the press with the ball still stuck to his feet. Heads turned.
Che pushed forward down the middle, eyes scanning ahead. Leon was making a diagonal run toward the center, motioning for a through ball between the left-back and center-back.
A midfielder stood in Che's way, blocking that passing lane—but Che saw it. He felt it.
He took another touch, heavier this time—on purpose. The midfielder lunged, thinking he could win it. But Che used that moment to slip the ball around him with finesse, curling it just enough to bend past both the center mid and the defensive mid.
The ball rolled into Leon's path.
Leon didn't even need a touch. As it reached him, he let it run straight between his legs—a dummy—and the defender bit hard, getting caught flat-footed.
He tried grabbing at Leon to slow him down, hoping to delay him long enough for a teammate to cover.
But Leon was too quick. Too strong. He shook off the hold and chased the ball down. The center-back had a chance to go for it too, but he hesitated, assuming Leon would reach it first.
He did.
Right near the edge of the box, Leon collected it with his back to goal. The center-back stepped in—Leon didn't flinch.
A couple of feints. Left. Stillness.
Then a quick step-over with his left foot. In the same fluid motion, he tapped the ball with his right—letting it bump against his left to redirect it toward the goal line.
The defender got faked out—his legs too slow to match the footwork.
As the ball looked like it was about to go out, Leon darted around the defender and pulled it back with his right foot, barely keeping it in.
The defender didn't even try to challenge, worried he'd give away a penalty.
Now the left-back, covering as makeshift center-back, slid across to cut Leon off.
He lunged in—but Leon pulled it back with his left foot, dragged it across his body, and nudged it forward with his right, somehow still in bounds with almost zero space left to work with.
No more room. No more running space. His only choices? Shoot or pass.
Che waved his arms—silently—just outside the goal area. But he wasn't asking for the ball… He was signaling something. To someone else.
Leon didn't have time to figure it out.
He played it to Che anyway—because he was wide open.
The ball rolled perfectly to him.
No extra touches. No hesitation.
Che hit it with the outside of his right foot—a clean trivela.