March 22, Amsterdam Arena – KNVB Cup Semifinal: Ajax vs. Roda JC
Despite the high stakes of reaching the Dutch Cup final, Ronald Koeman stayed true to his strategy of measured rotation. He once again resisted the temptation to start his strongest eleven. Yang Yang, Sneijder, and Yaya Touré—three pillars of Ajax's attacking engine—were left on the bench, though all were included in the matchday squad for security. Given that the Dutch Cup had now reached the semifinal stage, Koeman was clearly hedging his bets.
The first hour of play vindicated his caution.
Ajax's reshuffled lineup struggled for rhythm. Daniël de Ridder and Hedwiges Maduro lacked chemistry in midfield, failing to provide any consistent link between defense and attack. Up front, Nicklas Bendtner, Ryan Babel, and Tom De Mul looked disconnected, their movements misaligned, their passing imprecise. Ajax dominated possession but posed little threat.
Fortunately, their defensive organization held firm. Vermaelen, Heitinga, and Stekelenburg were alert and composed, ensuring that Roda JC's counterattacks were contained before developing into danger.
As the match wore on, the tension in the Amsterdam Arena grew.
By the 60th minute, Koeman began to make changes, hoping to inject purpose into Ajax's lifeless attack. But the substitutions had minimal impact.
With the score still locked at 0-0 and time running out, Koeman made his final move: in the 76th minute, he turned to his trump card.
Yang Yang replaced De Mul.
The impact was immediate. Though the flow didn't radically shift, Ajax's forward movements gained clarity and aggression. Yang Yang's positioning, off-ball intelligence, and ability to draw defenders created new pockets of space. But Roda JC, sensing the danger, tightened their ranks and used their remaining substitutions to reinforce their defensive line.
The match seemed destined for extra time—until the final seconds of stoppage time.
In the 92nd minute, Ajax's Brazilian left-back, Filipe Luís, surged down the flank and delivered a whipped cross toward the edge of the six-yard box. Timing his run perfectly, Yang Yang ghosted behind his marker, met the delivery with a calm chest control, and—without letting the ball hit the ground—lashed a left-footed shot from a near-impossible angle.
The ball arced over the keeper's outstretched hand and curled inside the far post.
1–0, Ajax. Game over.
The Amsterdam Arena erupted.
"Match-winner!"
"This is what separates the elite from the ordinary—two shots, one goal, one semifinal decided!"
Yang Yang sprinted toward the corner flag, arms outstretched, before being mobbed by his teammates. Sneijder was first to reach him, leaping into his arms. Even Koeman, usually reserved, applauded warmly from the touchline.
This was not a Champions League tie. It wasn't a classic showdown. But it was still a defining moment.
Not just because of the goal, but because of what it reaffirmed: Yang Yang was Ajax's difference-maker.
Efficient, lethal, calm under pressure—he didn't need volume to make an impact. All he needed was one chance.
Roda JC's coach, Huub Stevens, stood frozen on the sideline. He had spent nearly 90 minutes watching his team execute a disciplined, gritty game plan. For 91 minutes, they were successful. But all it took was one slip, one sequence of brilliance, and it was over.
Yang Yang had done it again.
...
...
March 26 – Amsterdam Arena
Round 30 of the Eredivisie saw Ajax host relegation-threatened NAC Breda on a sunny noon kickoff at the Amsterdam Arena. With the Champions League quarterfinal first leg looming in midweek, Ronald Koeman approached this fixture pragmatically—looking to rotate, protect key players, but still secure the win.
The match began at a lively pace, and within just two minutes, Ajax took the lead.
Yang Yang received the ball wide on the right flank, closely marked but unfazed. With a sharp burst of acceleration, he beat his man and delivered a precise low cross to the near post. Greek striker Angelos Charisteas met it with a firm header from close range.
1–0, Ajax. The home crowd erupted.
Yet, even with the early goal, the supporters' main focus was elsewhere.
They wanted a Yang Yang goal.
Not just any goal, but the goal—the one that would make history.
Coming into the match, Yang Yang was tied with Ajax legend Henk Groot at 41 league goals in a single Eredivisie season. One more, and he would stand alone as Ajax's all-time top single-season scorer in the domestic league. Everyone in the stadium wanted to witness it.
Before the match, both Koeman and assistant coach Ruud Krol had spoken with Yang Yang about his playing time. With Milan coming up, the agreement was clear: no more than 60 minutes today.
It was a cautious plan. Records mattered, but Ajax's season ambitions extended far beyond individual accolades.
Despite Breda's struggles this year, they put up a resilient fight, staying compact and frustrating Ajax through the early exchanges. But in the 23rd minute, Yang Yang struck.
Receiving a sharp pass from Pienaar just inside the penalty area, Yang Yang opened his body and calmly side-footed a shot into the far corner. It was clinical, effortless, inevitable.
2–0. But more importantly…
42 league goals.
The Amsterdam Arena exploded. Supporters stood, clapped, roared, and waved banners in unison. Many embraced in the stands. Songs echoed through the stadium.
In that moment, Yang Yang didn't just break a record—he cemented his legacy.
He had surpassed a mark that had stood for 45 years. A mark held by Henk Groot, one of Ajax's most iconic strikers. And now, a new name was etched into the history books: Yang Yang.
Yet, the forward didn't celebrate with exaggeration. He smiled, pointed to the fans, and raised his hands in quiet acknowledgment. Then, he turned toward midfield. There was still a match to play.
After his record-breaking goal, Yang Yang continued to push, hoping to add to his tally. But sometimes, as he himself had recently admitted to Vandersma, the harder you chase a goal, the more elusive it becomes.
Several chances came and went. A curling effort narrowly missed the top corner. A close-range shot was saved by Breda's keeper. And then, in the 60th minute, Koeman signaled the substitution.
Yang Yang left the pitch to a standing ovation. Every fan in the stadium clapped as he jogged to the sideline. The cameras followed him. The commentators paused to pay tribute.
A new Ajax legend had been born.
Ajax would go on to win 3–0, with Ryan Babel adding a late goal in the 88th minute. But by then, the result was already secured. The story of the day was already written.
And it belonged to Yang Yang.
...
...
Last season, Yang Yang broke Ronaldo's single-season scoring record in the Eredivisie—an achievement that turned heads across Europe.
But no one could have predicted what would follow.
This season, the 19-year-old shattered not one, but two of Ajax's most iconic records—those of Marco van Basten and Henk Groot.
Forty-one goals in a league campaign, once seen as a historic ceiling, now belonged to him.
Yes, the Eredivisie doesn't rival the top four leagues in terms of competition. But scoring over 30 goals in back-to-back seasons—while systematically surpassing names like Ronaldo, Van Basten, and Henk Groot—is not something that can be dismissed. The football world has taken notice.
Yang Yang has become a headline magnet. Reporters across Europe are tracking his every step, fans are debating his future with fervor, and scouts from every major league are circling like hawks.
He's younger than Ronaldo was when he left PSV for Barcelona. This summer, it's not a matter of if he leaves, but where he goes.
Some suggest La Liga, where the technical style suits his flair. Others advocate Serie A, which is regaining prestige and where tactical nuance could test him. The Premier League, with its speed and physicality, is also an intriguing destination. There's no consensus—only anticipation.
Every fan wants him. Every club wants him. And who wouldn't?
Yet, amid the noise, Yang Yang remains composed.
"I really don't care much about records," he told reporters calmly. "They're nice for the media and fans, but they don't mean much to us inside the dressing room."
"What matters is that we've reached the KNVB Cup final, and we'll be facing PSV at De Kuip. They're never easy to play, and that final is going to be a real battle."
He didn't stop there.
"We also have AC Milan coming up in the Champions League. It's the first leg of the quarter-finals, and we need to play our absolute best. Milan are one of the most complete teams in Europe this season."
Over in Italy, AC Milan manager Carlo Ancelotti had been following Yang Yang's progress closely. In a pre-match press conference, he praised the young Ajax striker in no uncertain terms.
"Yang Yang is among the most promising forwards in Europe right now. He's made tremendous strides this season."
"Defending him is not simple. He has pace, work rate, excellent movement off the ball—there's no easy way to handle him. We'll need to compress space and work as a unit. He thrives in chaos."
Ancelotti was cautious but confident.
"There are no perfect teams, not even us. But we've prepared thoroughly for this match. I'm expecting it to be one of the most-watched ties in Europe this season."
He singled out Kaka and Shevchenko as Milan's keys to victory.
"Certain players carry the expectations of the entire club. Kaka and Sheva know that. They've done it before. They understand the responsibility."
When asked about his striker selection—between Alberto Gilardino and Filippo Inzaghi—Ancelotti admitted he hadn't finalized the decision. "It depends on the tactical shape we go with. Both can score goals, and both are capable of stepping up."
Back in Amsterdam, Ajax also recognized the scale of the task ahead.
Ronald Koeman acknowledged that the team was stepping into the lion's den.
"Milan is a massive test. There's pressure on everyone, but I believe our players are capable of surprising people."
"Last season, we didn't make it out of the group stage. This year we're in the last eight. Progress is being made, and this tie will show how far we've come."
The club planned accordingly. The day before the match, after lunch and rest, the squad boarded a flight to Milan. Upon arrival, they went straight to their hotel, and after a short recovery session, headed to the San Siro for their pre-match training.
As fate would have it, as Ajax stepped out for their session, they crossed paths with AC Milan—specifically, Yang Yang with Kaka—in the player tunnel.
"I told you we'd meet again," Yang Yang grinned as he spotted the Brazilian.
Kaka returned the smile and embraced him. "Welcome to San Siro. But don't get too comfortable—I promise this place won't be kind to you tomorrow."
Yang Yang chuckled. "You never know. Maybe we leave with a win."
Kaka raised an eyebrow. "That's brave."
"PSV managed a draw here," Yang Yang reminded him. "You're not invincible."
The Brazilian nodded. "True. But that was months ago. We've improved since then. Can you say the same for your defense?"
Yang Yang smiled coolly. "Maybe not. But our attack is sharper than PSV's."
Kaka paused for a moment, unsure whether Yang Yang was bluffing or laying down a challenge.
Milan didn't need to change anything. At home, they would stick to their strengths—possession, control, and experience.
The pressure was on Ajax to adjust. To find a way to upset the odds.
"The last team that tried something daring here," Kaka said as he began to walk off, "was called Bayern Munich."
Everyone remembered the result: Milan 4, Bayern 1.
"Then let's see if we can write a different story," Yang Yang replied, turning away.
The mutual respect between the two was clear. But so was the tension.
Tomorrow, they would no longer be friends in the tunnel.
They would be opponents on the pitch.
...
"What did Kaka say when you bumped into him just now?" Maxwell asked with a knowing grin, his curiosity barely contained.
The atmosphere in the Ajax locker room was tense, yet there was always room for a bit of gossip—especially when it involved stars like Kaka. Maxwell and Kaka were both part of the Brazilian national setup, and while they weren't the closest, they shared mutual respect. Maxwell, one of the few lighter-skinned Brazilians in the squad alongside Kaka, often joked that people mistook them for Europeans.
Yang Yang chuckled as he pulled off his training top. "He said, and I quote, 'The last team that came to San Siro saying they'd win was Bayern Munich.'"
That earned a round of laughter, mixed with nervous reactions.
"Seriously?" Maduro raised his eyebrows.
"They lost 4–1," De Jong added, shaking his head. "That's a bold line."
"Classic Kaka," Sneijder muttered. "Nice guy, but always knows how to throw a jab with a smile."
"But he's not wrong," Ryan Babel pointed out. "Milan made Bayern look amateurish that night. San Siro's a fortress when they're in form."
Yang Yang noticed the slight shift in mood—the bravado suddenly shaded by realism. He stepped forward, his voice calm but deliberate.
"Yeah, Milan are strong. Nobody's denying that. But they're not invincible."
The room quieted. Even the hum of pre-match tension seemed to pause.
"They have weaknesses. Their fullbacks are exposed when pushed wide. Dida hasn't looked sharp all season. Nesta's been great, but Maldini's 38. We've studied them. If we play with purpose, stay compact, and trust each other, we can hurt them."
Maxwell nodded firmly. "That's what I want to hear."
"And besides," Yang Yang added, "no one expected us to trash Real Madrid either. Or for me to tie Henk Groot. We've been beating odds all season."
"Let's go beat another," Sneijder said.
The group's mood lifted again, their belief realigned. No one needed to pretend they weren't underdogs. But with Yang Yang leading the line and carrying both form and fire, they had every reason to believe.
The quarterfinal first leg loomed large, but they were ready to face it—together.
...
...
After completing the familiarization session at the iconic San Siro Stadium, Yang Yang returned with the team to the hotel. Dinner passed in a relaxed mood, though underneath the laughter and casual conversation, the tension of tomorrow's match simmered quietly.
Once back in his room, Yang Yang followed his routine. As always before a big game, he reviewed the scouting reports compiled by the technical team. The envelope had been handed to him by Ruud Krol, and inside it were printed profiles, tactical notes, and annotated diagrams outlining AC Milan's likely setup.
He sat on the edge of his bed, flicking through the pages under the warm light of the bedside lamp.
The first section focused on Milan's back line.
Dida, the Brazilian goalkeeper, remained a volatile presence. After two stellar seasons, his form this year had noticeably dipped. Unforced errors and poor decisions had crept into his game, and Italian media had begun questioning whether his peak had already passed. He was still capable of brilliance—his wingspan and reflexes were elite—but his inconsistency made him a liability under pressure.
The defensive line in front of him had been reshuffled repeatedly throughout the season. Ancelotti hadn't settled on a stable back four, which was telling. That lack of continuity often signaled underlying tactical or personnel issues.
Right-back had become a particular headache. Cafu, once an engine of relentless energy and intelligence down the flank, had been absent since a disastrous 3–1 away loss to Fiorentina back in November. He hadn't played a minute since, and sources close to the club suggested he wasn't match-fit.
In his absence, Ancelotti had rotated through several options: Jaap Stam, whose natural position was central defense; Croatian utility man Dario Šimić; and even 40-year-old Alessandro Costacurta. None had truly convinced. Yang Yang made a mental note—whoever started at right-back would not be in their comfort zone.
On the opposite flank, the picture was even murkier.
Maldini, the legendary captain, had returned from a serious injury just one match ago, playing a symbolic 15-minute cameo against Fiorentina at the San Siro. At 37, with his match sharpness in question, it was unlikely he'd be risked from the start—especially in such a high-stakes match.
Instead, Georgian defender Kakha Kaladze had taken over the left-sided centre-back role in Maldini's absence. Paired with the ever-reliable Alessandro Nesta, Kaladze had been functional, if unspectacular. The real weakness, however, lay beside them.
Rather than moving Kaladze to the left-back role he had once excelled in, Ancelotti had made a puzzling decision—opting instead for 34-year-old Serginho.
Serginho, for all his experience and energy, was never a true fullback. He had made his name as a rampaging left winger, known for his pace and crossing ability—not for tracking back, holding a line, or engaging in physical duels. Asking him to mark intelligent, sharp forwards in defensive zones was always going to be a gamble.
Jankulovski had been another option—a natural left-back with good technique—but his defensive displays had been unconvincing, and Ancelotti had seemingly lost patience. Still, many fans couldn't understand why Kaladze wasn't simply moved back to his more familiar position, allowing another centre-back to step in.
Would Ancelotti remain stubborn? Or would he adjust under pressure from the media and tactical reality?
Yang Yang didn't have the answer. But he did know this—whoever started on Milan's left would almost certainly face him.
And if it was Serginho?
Then tomorrow might be his chance.
He closed the dossier, his mind already envisioning the runs, the feints, the angles of the San Siro pitch.
...
Just as Yang Yang sat quietly, his mind clouded with tactical analysis and the looming pressure of tomorrow's clash at San Siro, a soft chime from his laptop pulled him back. A new message had appeared on his QQ chat window.
Su Ye: "What are you doing?"
A faint smile tugged at his lips. Without hesitation, he typed back:
Yang Yang: "Waiting for you."
He followed it up with a shy emoji and a playful sticker of a cartoon kitchen knife—an old inside joke between them. As soon as he hit send, he chuckled to himself, the weight on his shoulders easing slightly. Sometimes, even a few simple words could lift his mood.
Su Ye: "You should be getting ready for Milan tomorrow, right?"
Yang Yang: "Yeah. Just went through some tactical notes and scouting reports. I'll probably get some sleep soon—but I can talk for a bit."
As usual, when he had free time, Yang Yang would log into QQ. It was his unspoken signal to friends that he was available to chat. If he was busy, he'd remain offline or invisible, and Su Ye, understanding his rhythm, would never disturb him unless he made the first move.
Su Ye: "Feeling a lot of pressure lately?"
Yang Yang: "Not really. I've gotten used to it."
But even as he answered, his eyes lingered on the scouting materials still open behind the chat window. After a moment's pause, another message came through.
Su Ye: "I've been nervous too. Our college instructor wants to recommend me for an audition."
That made him sit up straighter. She wasn't the type to bring something up unless she'd already been thinking about it for a while.
Yang Yang: "Audition? For what?"
Yang Yang: "Is it for a film? Which production? Who's directing?"
His questions came quickly, reflecting his immediate curiosity and concern. For now, the tactical dossiers were forgotten.
Su Ye: "I'm not sure yet. I heard the investment is big—300 to 400 million yuan for each of the two productions. The directors are top names too, so there's a lot of competition. Even some big-name actresses are interested."
She added a hesitant emoji, clearly unsure of herself.
Yang Yang understood. She wasn't just sharing news—she was seeking reassurance.
Yang Yang: "Then go for it. Give it a shot. If it works out, amazing. If not, it's still good experience."
Su Ye: "It's just... my first time auditioning. I'm kind of nervous."
Yang Yang: "That's normal. I was nervous before my first match too."
Su Ye: "You can't compare the two. You debuted in the Champions League and even scored after coming off the bench!"
Yang Yang: "That was more like being thrown into the deep end and having to swim. Besides, you haven't even tried yet. How do you know you can't do it?"
He paused for a second, then added:
Yang Yang: "And come on, don't you have a shining star behind you backing you up? What's there to be afraid of?"
That made her laugh. He knew her well enough to imagine the expression on her face as she sent back a giggling emoji.
Su Ye: "Alright then... I'll give it a try. But don't expect too much. You know the deal with my dad."
Yang Yang: "Don't stress. A lot of films this year are just remakes of old hits anyway."
Su Ye: "Haha. I'll head off now. I'll be cheering for you tomorrow."
Yang Yang: "Thanks."
...
The two chatted for a while longer before Su Ye sent one final message, gently reminding Yang Yang to focus on preparing for the match.
When her profile icon dimmed on QQ, Yang Yang stared at the screen for a moment longer. He closed the chat window slowly, but in his chest, a new kind of fire had been quietly kindled.
Someone once said that a man's greatest motivation often comes from love.
Yang Yang had always found that sentiment a bit simplistic—until recently. He didn't necessarily agree with the idea that every man lives only to please someone else. But he had to admit that love gave him a deeper sense of purpose. It made him want to strive harder, to do more, to build something worthwhile—because in the back of his mind, he wanted the woman he loved to feel proud of him.
It wasn't unlike what he'd seen around him. His roommate Sneijder had gotten married late last year, around the same time as Van der Vaart. Both had reached new heights in their careers this season. More mature, more focused, more driven.
Love and family didn't make a player soft. On the contrary, it often sharpened their focus, gave them something to fight for beyond the game itself.
Yang Yang closed his laptop, exhaled deeply, and leaned back.
From the opposite bed, Sneijder glanced over. "What's wrong?"
Yang Yang shook his head. "I was trying to read Milan. Guess their lineup, tactics. But it's pointless. I can't figure it out."
"You and the rest of the world," Sneijder replied. "Ancelotti keeps it close to the chest."
And it was true. No one in Ajax's camp really knew what to expect tomorrow. Not Ronald Koeman, not Ruud Krol, not the analysts.
Milan had rotated their backline throughout the season. They had experimented, adjusted, reshuffled. Trying to pin down their exact setup was like chasing shadows.
Yang Yang stood up and stretched his arms, as if shaking the uncertainty from his body.
"Forget it," he said. "Let them worry about us instead."
Sneijder raised an eyebrow, impressed.
"No matter who they send out tomorrow," Yang Yang continued, "we only have one job—beat them."
He said it with no theatrical pause, no false bravado. Just quiet certainty.
He had waited a long time for this match.
Two years ago, he had sat in the stands of the Amsterdam Arena, helpless as Ajax were beaten by AC Milan. He hadn't played that night. He was a promising youth, not yet in the first team, watching the defeat unfold from a distance.
But he had felt every second of it.
And since then, he had grown. From a benchwarmer to the team's most vital player.
From a dreamer to a record-breaker.