The day of the Wolfsburg match was also the day of Mateo's eighteenth birthday. The Westfalenstadion was a sea of black and yellow, but there were also thousands of signs and banners wishing their young star a happy birthday. The club had arranged a special pre-match ceremony, a tribute to the boy who had become a man in front of their very eyes.
A video montage played on the giant screens, a collection of his best moments in a Dortmund shirt: the stunning debut goal, the dramatic Supercup victory, the Champions League heroics, the Bundesliga title-winning assist. The crowd roared with every highlight, a symphony of appreciation for the player who had brought them so much joy.
Mateo, standing in the center of the pitch, felt a wave of emotion wash over him. He was not used to this kind of attention, this kind of adulation. He was a private person, a boy who preferred to let his football do the talking.
