The morning after his debut, Andrei woke to find his face on the back page of Gazeta Sporturilor. The headline read: "THE KID FROM IAȘI: New Hope for Romanian Football?"
Elena had written it. The article was professional, balanced, but he could read between the lines—the way she described his "intelligent movement" and "mature decision-making under pressure."
Anyone else would see objective journalism. Andrei saw something more.
His phone buzzed. A text from her: Don't let it go to your head. You're still just a 67 overall.
He grinned and replied: 67.3, actually. Get your facts right, journalist.
Training that Monday was different. The reserve players congratulated him with barely concealed envy.
The first-teamers acknowledged him—veteran goalkeeper Andrei Vlad nodded as he passed, while left-back Risto Radunović gave him a fist bump.
But Florinel Coman, FCSB's star winger and most expensive player, just watched him with calculating eyes.
"Nice assist, kid," Coman said in the dressing room. At 24, he'd already played in the Champions League and earned a call-up to the Romanian national team. "Don't think it makes you special."
"I don't," Andrei replied carefully.
"Good. Because one assist doesn't mean shit. The real test is doing it again. And again. And again."
Coman pulled on his training shirt. "Half the kids who come through here have one good moment and think they've made it. Then they disappear."
It wasn't said maliciously, just matter-of-factly.
Andrei recognized it for what it was—a veteran testing whether he had the mentality to survive.
"I understand," Andrei said.
Coman studied him a moment longer, then shrugged. "We'll see."
New Relationship: Florinel Coman (Teammate)
Status: Skeptical
Note: Performance will determine respect
Training was intense. Coach Dică pushed them hard, preparing for Thursday's Europa Conference League match against Anderlecht.
It was a crucial game—win and FCSB would advance to the knockout rounds.
Lose and their European campaign was over.
Andrei trained with the first team now, partnering up front with captain Florin Tănase in the practice matches. Tănase was 28, a proven goalscorer who'd netted over 100 times for FCSB. He was patient with Andrei, constantly communicating.
"When I check to the ball, you run behind," Tănase explained during a water break. "When I spin, you show for the pass. We work together, understand?"
"Yes understand," Andrei confirmed. I understand.
They ran the play again. Tănase dropped deep, dragging his marker with him.
Andrei timed his run perfectly, bursting into the space behind.
The pass came perfectly weighted, and Andrei slotted past the goalkeeper.
Positioning: +0.1 (better understanding of striker partnership)
Vision: +0.1 (recognized space creation)
"That's it !" Tănase shouted.
But Andrei wasn't in Dică's starting eleven for Anderlecht.
He made the squad—sitting on the bench in his tracksuit, watching as FCSB lined up against the Belgian giants.
FCSB Starting XI (4-2-3-1):
GK: Andrei Vlad
DEF: (RB) Valentin Crețu, (CB) Joyskim Dawa, (CB) Ionuț Panțîru, (LB) Risto Radunović
MID: (CDM) Darius Olaru, (CDM) Mihai Pintilii
ATT:(LW) Florinel Coman, (CAM) Constantin Budescu,(RW) Octavian Popescu
ST: Florin Tănase
Anderlecht Starting XI (4-3-3):
GK: Hendrik Van Crombrugge
DEF: (LB) Michael Murillo, (CB) Wesley Hoedt, (CB) Zeno Debast, (RB )Sergio Gomez
MID:(CM) Yari Verschaeren,(CM) Josh Cullen, (CM ) Kristian Arnstad
ATT:(LW) Fabio Silva, (ST )Benito Raman, (RW) Francis Amuzu
The match kicked off under the floodlights of the Stadionul Național. Fifteen thousand fans created a wall of noise, but
Anderlecht was a different level than CFR Cluj.
They moved the ball with precision, their pressing organized and relentless.
FCSB struggled. In the 23rd minute, Anderlecht's Portuguese striker Fabio Silva—on loan from Wolves—ghosted past Dawa and finished clinically. 1-0.
Dică screamed instructions from the touchline, but FCSB couldn't find their rhythm. Budescu tried to create magic, but Anderlecht's Irish midfielder Josh Cullen stuck to him like glue.
Coman had pace but couldn't beat the experienced Wesley Hoedt one-on-one.
At halftime, it was still 1-0, but it felt worse. FCSB looked outclassed.
The second half began the same way. In the 58th minute, Belgian winger Francis Amuzu cut inside and curled one past Vlad. 2-0.
The crowd grew restless. Dică turned to his bench. His eyes found Andrei.
"Luca. For Popescu. Press high, run at them. Show me what you showed against Cluj."
Match Situation: Critical
Deficit: 2 goals
Time Remaining: 32 minutes
Pressure Level: Extreme
Andrei jogged on, replacing the young winger Octavian Popescu. His instructions were simple—play up front with Tănase, press Anderlecht's center-backs, force mistakes.
The game was faster than Sunday, more physical. Anderlecht's defenders were massive—Hoedt and Debast both over 6'3", experienced professionals who'd played in top European leagues. Every time Andrei went shoulder-to-shoulder with them, he bounced off.
Strength: 63 (Insufficient against opposition)
But he had pace, and he had intelligence.
In the 71st minute, FCSB won the ball high up the pitch.
Olaru drove forward and played it wide to Coman. Andrei made a diagonal run across the penalty area, dragging Debast with him. That left space for Tănase, who peeled off and received Coman's cross.
Header. Goal. 2-1.
The stadium erupted. Hope flickered.
"Keep going!" Tănase shouted, pulling Andrei up from where he'd fallen after his run. "We can get another!"
FCSB poured forward.
Anderlecht dropped deeper, defending their lead. The minutes ticked by—75, 80, 85. Time was running out.
In the 88th minute, Radunović launched a long ball forward.
Andrei chased it, knowing he was slower than Debast, knowing the Belgian would get there first.
But he pressed anyway, refusing to give up.
Debast tried to chest it back to his goalkeeper.
But the ball bounced awkwardly on the wet turf, skipping higher than expected. Andrei accelerated, using every point of his 74 pace rating.
He reached the ball a split-second before Van Crombrugge, poking it past the diving goalkeeper.
Empty net.
Andrei rolled it in.
2-2.
He didn't remember celebrating. Suddenly he was under a pile of teammates, oxygen gone, ears ringing. The crowd was deafening.
GOAL SCORED
Positioning: +0.2 (never stopped pressing)
Pace: +0.1 (outran defender in crucial moment)
Composure: +0.3 (stayed calm with goalkeeper closing)
The final whistle blew. 2-2. FCSB had salvaged a point and kept their European hopes alive.
In the dressing room, the atmosphere was electric.
Veterans who'd barely spoken to Andrei now treated him like one of them. Coman, the skeptic, nodded approvingly.
"Maybe you're not just one good moment," Coman said.
High praise from a man who rarely gave any.
Overall Rating: 67.3 →