The Allianz Arena buzzed under the lights.
Bayern Munich vs. Werder Bremen.
A sold-out home crowd.A team fighting to maintain its lead in the Bundesliga.And Mateo González, sitting on the bench in full kit, heartbeat pounding under layers of cloth and nerves.
The Sidelines
The match began with all the tactical precision Ferrera demanded.
Bayern's lines held tight.Ball circulation was clean.Possession was steady.
But the danger?The spark?
It was missing.
Mateo Watches
He watched every touch.
Every build-up that ended in a misplaced pass.
Every chance that fizzled in the final third.
His fingers tapped against his thighs.Not from impatience—but from readiness.
Inside, the System pulsed softly:
"Match Entry Opportunity Approaching…"
Halftime
0–0.
Ferrera walked into the locker room calm, collected, and completely unsatisfied.
"You're following the plan," he said. "But the plan isn't enough."
He glanced around the room.Then his eyes landed briefly—very briefly—on Mateo.
No words.Just… a pause.
Then he continued with instructions.He didn't say who would come on.
But Mateo knew.
Something was brewing.
The Call
Minute 58.Still 0–0.
A heavy tackle took down Sané near the sideline.He grimaced.Stood slowly.
Ferrera paced the touchline, murmuring to his assistants.
Then, finally—
He turned.
"González. Warm up."
Mateo blinked.
Just once.
Then stood without a word.
Stripped off the training vest.
And started to jog.
Final Words
As Mateo approached the technical area, Ferrera leaned close.
"Stay wide.Don't overplay.Track back.One mistake and you're off."
Mateo nodded.
But inside?
He wasn't afraid of mistakes.
He was ready for moments.
The Whistle
The fourth official raised the board.
#27 IN.#10 OUT.
The crowd clapped. A few even cheered.
Some knew the number.
Some remembered the World Cup.
Most didn't know what was about to happen.
Mateo stepped onto the pitch.
Felt the grass under his boots.
And whispered…
"Let it rain."