Christmas week brought FCSB's biggest challenge yet:
a home match against rivals Dinamo București.
The "Eternal Derby," they called it. Two clubs that hated each other with a passion that transcended football.
The city divided itself along club lines. Families stopped speaking.
Friendships ended.
For one week every season, Bucharest became a war zone painted in red-blue and red-white.
Andrei had grown up watching these matches on television, never imagining he'd play in one.
Now, as he walked through the city, he saw it everywhere—graffiti declaring "Numai FCSB" (Only FCSB), counter-graffiti from Dinamo fans, flares being sold on street corners.
Elena warned him about the intensity. "This isn't like other matches.
The pressure is different.
Players have panic attacks. Some freeze completely."
"Have you covered it before?"
"Three times. Last year, a player got a red card in the first five minutes and received death threats for a week." Her expression was serious. "I need you to understand—this match will define how fans see you. Play well, and you're a hero forever. Play badly, and they'll never forgive you."
"No pressure, then."
"I'm serious, Andrei."
He kissed her forehead. "I know. But I can't think about that. I just have to play my game."
Training that week was tense.
Dică worked them harder than ever, running tactical drills until everyone understood their roles perfectly.
The formation would be more defensive than usual—Dinamo had quality attackers, including their Romanian international striker Deian Sorescu and creative midfielder Gabi Torje.
Dinamo București - Expected Starting XI (4-3-3):
GK: Dragoș Balauru
DEF: Răzvan Patriche, Cosmin Matei, Ricardo Grigore, Cătălin Țîru
MID: Ioan Nedelcu, Gabi Torje, Cătălin Țîru
ATT: Deian Sorescu, Ahmed Bani, Domagoj Pavičić
Dangerous opposition. Experienced, physical, desperate to beat their hated rivals.
The night before the match, Andrei couldn't sleep. He lay in bed, watching his stats:
Overall Rating: 68.3/99
Recent Form: Good
Pressure Handling: Untested in high-stakes rivalry
At 2 AM, his phone buzzed. Elena: Can't sleep either. Want company?
Twenty minutes later, she was at his door, wrapped in a winter coat over pajamas.
"This is crazy," she said, stepping inside. "I have to write about this match objectively tomorrow. I shouldn't be here."
"But you are."
"But I am." She took off her coat. "Just hold me for a while?
No talking about football, no talking about the match. Just... be normal people for a few hours."
They lay in bed, her head on his chest, listening to each other breathe.
Sometimes love was simpler than statistics.
Match day arrived with cold winter sun and a stadium packed to capacity.
Forty thousand fans, maybe more. The atmosphere was electric—flares burning in the stands, drums pounding a war rhythm, voices raised in songs of glory and hatred.
Andrei stood in the tunnel, trying to control his breathing. His composure rating flashed: 60/99
It had improved, but was it enough?
Tănase noticed his tension. "First derby?"
Andrei nodded, not trusting his voice.
"Forget the crowd.
Forget the rivalry. It's just a football match. You've played football your whole life." The captain's eyes were steady.
"Play your game, work for the team, and the rest handles itself."
The teams walked out. The noise was physical, pressing against Andrei from all sides. He'd never experienced anything like it.
FCSB Starting XI:
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,(RW) Constantin Budescu,(CAM) Andrei Luca
ST: Florin Tănase
Kickoff. Dinamo came at them immediately, pressing high, physical and aggressive.
Their defensive midfielder Ioan Nedelcu clattered into Budescu within the first thirty seconds—a statement tackle, letting FCSB know this would be war.
The referee let it go. In derbies, different rules applied.
Andrei's first touch came in the 8th minute. A simple pass from Olaru, a Dinamo defender closing fast. Andrei controlled it, looked up, and played it square to Pintilii. Safe. Simple.
Composure: Maintained under pressure
The match was frantic—tackles flying, the ball barely on the ground for more than a few touches. Neither team could establish control. In the 19th minute, Dinamo's Deian Sorescu cut inside from the left and unleashed a shot that Vlad tipped over brilliantly.
"Wake up!" Dică screamed from the sideline.
In the 31st minute, FCSB finally created something.
Budescu picked up the ball in midfield and drove forward. Andrei made a diagonal run across the penalty area, dragging his marker. That opened space for Coman, who received Budescu's pass and shot.
The goalkeeper parried it.
But the rebound fell perfectly for Tănase.
Goal. 1-0.
The stadium exploded. Red and blue flares lit the sky. The noise was deafening.
But Dinamo responded immediately. They pushed forward desperately, throwing bodies forward. In the 44th minute, a corner kick caused chaos in FCSB's penalty area. Bodies collided, the ball pinballed, and Dinamo's Croatian striker Domagoj Pavičić stabbed it home.
1-1 at halftime.
In the dressing room, Dică was calm. "They're desperate now. They'll push for the winner, which means space in behind. Use it."
The second half was even more intense. Yellow cards came out—Pintilii for a strong tackle, Dinamo's Ricardo Grigore for pulling back Tănase. The crowd sensed blood.
In the 67th minute, everything changed.
Dinamo pushed forward aggressively, committing numbers.
FCSB won the ball and Olaru drove forward on the counter. Three attackers against three defenders. Real time seemed to slow.
Andrei ran down the right side, Coman mirrored him on the left, Tănase in the center. Olaru had options.
The system highlighted them:
Optimal Pass: Tănase (central, 65% success)
Alternative: Coman (left, 55% success)
High Risk: Andrei Luca (right, 40% success - tight angle)
But Andrei saw something the system didn't. The Dinamo left-back had drifted too far central, worried about Tănase. There was space. Not much, but enough.
Andrei raised his hand, calling for it.
Olaru hesitated for a fraction of a second, then played the pass.
The ball came fast and hard.
Andrei's first touch had to be perfect—take it too far and the defender would close him down, too soft and the goalkeeper would claim it.
Ball Control: Critical moment
His touch was perfect, killing the pace, setting himself for the shot. The defender lunged, desperate.
Andrei shifted the ball onto his left foot—his weaker foot, but the only angle available.
The goalkeeper committed early, diving to his near post. Andrei aimed far post.
Time stretched.
He watched the ball curl through the air, watched it beat the goalkeeper's outstretched hand, watched it nestle in the side netting.
Goal.
The world went silent for one impossible second.
Then the stadium erupted.
Andrei didn't remember celebrating. Suddenly he was sliding on his knees, teammates piling on top of him, forty thousand people screaming his name. The noise was overwhelming, beautiful, terrifying.
GOAL SCORED IN DERBY
Composure: +0.5 (performed in ultimate pressure situation)
Weak Foot: +0.2 (scored with non-dominant foot)
Mental Strength: +0.3 (handled rivalry atmosphere)
Overall Rating: 68.3 → 69.4
FCSB held on. The final whistle blew. 2-1. Derby winners.
In the dressing room, pandemonium reigned. Players danced, sang, sprayed champagne. Dică, normally reserved, was grinning. This was what it meant to be FCSB—to beat Dinamo, to own the city.
Andrei sat quietly in his locker, overwhelmed. Tănase sat beside him.
"That's the moment that changes everything," the captain said. "You'll always be the kid who scored the derby winner now. Forever. That's your legacy."
Outside, Andrei found Elena waiting by the press area.
She was supposed to be professional, supposed to maintain distance. But when she saw him, her mask slipped for just a second.
"That goal..." she started, then shook her head. "I can't be objective about that. It was perfect."
"Just lucky."
"It wasn't luck." Her voice was fierce. "It was skill and composure and everything I've watched you work for. Don't diminish it."
They couldn't touch here, not with cameras and other journalists around. But their eyes said everything words couldn't.
That night, after the celebrations died down, after the social media explosion, after a thousand congratulations, Andrei lay in bed and checked his phone.
One message stood out, from an unknown international number: Impressive goal today. We've been watching you. Would like to discuss opportunities. - Giuseppe Marotta, Inter Milan
Andrei stared at the message for a long time. Inter Milan.
One of the biggest clubs in Europe. Watching him.
The beautiful game was getting more beautiful—and more complicated—every day.
New Development: International Interest
Clubs Tracking: Inter Milan, others likely
Note: Performance sustainability will determine next steps
Sleep came eventually, but Andrei dreamed of bigger stages, brighter lights, and Elena's hand in his through all of it.