S04 (1 - 1) VfB – 40th Minute
Speidel spotted the gap early and took off behind the line. He didn't waste time holding up or trying to get cute—just powered forward into the space. With only the goalkeeper to worry about, his eyes went straight to Leon.
Leon, drifting quietly into the middle, was completely unmarked. It was almost too easy. Speidel rolled the ball in low with precision, and Leon met it with a calm tap-in. No fuss, no extra touches. Just clean execution.
He took off toward the corner flag, finger pointed toward the sky—a quiet celebration that still said everything. First goal for the club, and he made it look routine.
The team surrounded him, but the first reactions weren't just about the finish—most of them were already pointing back toward Che. He'd started the whole move with that clever pass up the line, and the boys made sure he got his flowers too.
S04 (2 - 1) VfBGoal: Leon SonnenblickAssist: Kian Speidel
You'd think Schalke might wobble after that, but they didn't. If anything, they looked almost unfazed, like it hadn't happened. They dropped into their usual passing rhythm—moving the ball around midfield at a slower tempo, almost like they were trying to reset the mood. But that slowness ended up costing them.
One of their midfielders misread a pass and got caught. Stuttgart's left-back pounced, intercepted it clean, and fed the ball into the middle. Quick recycle, and Che was already taking off past the halfway line, gliding through the center of the pitch. He danced past two pressing players and looked like he might break through again—but just as he took another touch, one of Schalke's defenders stepped up and picked his pocket.
Then it flipped.
In a few passes, Schalke had it back into Stuttgart's half. Their attacking midfielder collected the ball just beyond the center circle, looked up, and took off. A Stuttgart defender stepped in—he feinted to the right and skipped past him effortlessly.
Another challenge came flying in from the side—he slid it through the legs and burst forward again. That little bit of control at speed made the difference.
He slid the ball wide to the right flank, where the winger took a touch and tried to whip in a cross, but it was overhit and floated over everyone. Stuttgart reset and cleared their lines.
A few minutes later, Djaby—same attacking mid—was back at it again. This time from the left. He had Leon and the Stuttgart right-back both tracking him, trying to cut off his angle. Leon stepped in, tried to muscle him off the ball, but Djaby leaned in, knocked him off balance, and kept moving.
He kept the ball on a string, tossing in light stepovers, just baiting the defender. Then all of a sudden, he pushed the ball forward and exploded into the open space. It was sharp—no wasted motion. Now he was at the edge of the box and barely inside shooting range, but he still went for it.
The strike had both power and curve, slicing across the top right corner from way out wide. It wasn't far off—clipped the top netting and out. Keeper didn't even flinch. Just watched it sail by and hoped for the best.
Then, just before the halftime whistle, it was Djaby again.
Schalke launched a quick counterattack, and Stuttgart's backline was stretched. He picked the ball up on the left wing, space wide open in front of him. Instead of sprinting straight, he drifted diagonally inward—like he was drawing the pressure in on purpose.
First defender stuck a leg in, but Djaby pulled the ball away, dragged it across his body from left to right, then shrugged off the recovering midfielder closing him down. Another Stuttgart defender stepped up, and Djaby suddenly stopped dead. Ball at his feet. All three players hesitated for half a second.
That was all he needed.
With a quick shoulder dip and a shift of pace, he spun away from the pack and found himself back out wide. The right-back tried to track him again, but Djaby was locked in.
He dropped into a series of slow stepovers—two, then three—and just like that, shifted gears. Blew past all three defenders like they were standing still.
One last defender stood between him and goal.
He didn't wait. Took the shot early.
Low-driven, tight angle. Beat the keeper again—but the ball smacked hard off the post and spun wide.
Closer than last time. Way closer.
As the ball trickled out for a goal kick, the ref signaled halftime.