On August 13th, the area outside Erfurt's Steigerwaldstadion was already packed with fans. Despite it being only the first round of the German Cup, Hoffenheim's arrival had set the small city abuzz. Local fans, holding beer cups, gathered in small groups near the stadium entrance, discussing the upcoming match.
"I heard Hoffenheim sent half their reserves this time?" a middle-aged man in a Rot-Weiss Erfurt jersey scoffed.
"Do they think we're here to give them an easy win?"
"Don't get too excited," his friend beside him shook his head, "Even if it's not their full main squad, a Bundesliga team isn't someone we can just easily take down."
In the media section inside the stadium, reporters were busy typing away on their keyboards. The first round of the German Cup has always been a hotbed for upsets, and Hoffenheim's extended squad list this time made them smell a good story. Kruger, a reporter from Kicker, stared at the starting lineup, his eyebrows raised high: "Is Nagelsmann crazy? I know he's preparing for the Champions League qualifiers, but I didn't expect him to dare to set up like this, with more than half being a reserve lineup."
His colleague, Schneider from Bild, shrugged: "What's so special about that? Look at the right-winger position, Oliver? Hmm… 17 years old? English Chinese? This kid hasn't even played a single official professional League match before, right?"
Kruger quickly flipped through his notes: "He scored in the pre-season warm-up matches, but for an official match… this is his debut."
In the Commentator's booth, Sky Sports Commentator Weber was adjusting his microphone. The director handed him the latest starting lineup, and he glanced at it, his mouth twitching slightly: "Hoffenheim's starting lineup tonight… well, one can only say it's very 'creative'.
Nagelsmann has clearly put all his thoughts into next week's Champions League qualifiers, but the German Cup is not a competition to play with fire."
His partner, former Germany international Schneider, took over: "Oliver? I have no impression of that name at all. Did Nagelsmann just grab someone from the youth team to make up the numbers?"
Weber smiled: "Don't jump to conclusions, Schneider. Nagelsmann always has his reasons for his player choices. Although sometimes it looks like he's gambling, I think he must have his considerations for doing this."
In the locker room, Hoffenheim players were making their final preparations. Oliver sat in front of his locker, tying his shoelaces tightly.
"Nervous?" Gnabry walked over and patted him on the shoulder.
Oliver looked up, a faint smile on his lips.
"A little."
"Normal," Gnabry grinned, "It's always like this for new players making their official debut. You'll get used to it after a few more times."
Uth, who was nearby, also added: "Yes, Oliver, you'll get used to it after a few more times. I feel the coach values you a lot."
"The coach actually values each of us. We'll have to rely on everyone once we're on the field," Oliver replied, then continued to focus on checking his shin guards.
The noise in the locker room seemed far away from him. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, thumping clearly like a drum. Nagelsmann pushed the door open, and the locker room instantly fell silent. He held a tactics board in his hand, his gaze sweeping over everyone, finally lingering on Oliver for a second.
"Listen," he began, his voice not loud but extremely penetrating,
"I can guess what everyone outside is saying with my toes. Hoffenheim is underestimating the German Cup, Nagelsmann is playing with fire…"
He sneered, "Let them say whatever they want. Tonight, we have only one goal: to win and advance to the next round with dignity."
He walked to the tactics board and tapped the right-wing position: "Oliver, your task is simple: tear apart their left-flank defense. I'll emphasize again, their left-back is slow to turn but makes a lot of small fouls. Don't get provoked by him. I know you're not an easily angered person."
"Understood, Coach," Oliver nodded, flexing his ankle.
Nagelsmann then looked at the others: "Vogt, you're the captain, lead these lads to play smartly. Gnabry, cooperate more with Oliver, don't let him carry it alone."
The atmosphere in the locker room gradually heated up. Vogt stood up and clapped his hands forcefully: "Come on, let them see that even if we rotate, we're not some random cats and dogs that anyone can bite!"
In the player tunnel, Oliver stood in the middle of the team. He could hear the clamor of fans from the stands and smell the scent of grass mixed with anti-slip spray. The Erfurt players occasionally glanced at him, their eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of disdain.
"Is this that 17-year-old kid?" the opposing midfielder whispered to his teammate, "Asian? Can he even play football?"
"Hey, kid, did Nagelsmann run out of players to send you out?"
Oliver pretended not to hear and didn't argue with them, just staring at the exit ahead. The light at the end of the tunnel grew closer, and his heartbeat grew louder. In the reporter's area on the sidelines, Kruger was quickly speaking into his voice recorder: "Number 17, Oliver, English Chinese. He has no prior professional match experience. Nagelsmann's bold move this time will either be a masterstroke or a disaster…"
Schneider interjected: "I lean more towards the latter. The German Cup isn't for training kids. Nagelsmann's choice this time is too bold."
In the stands, Hoffenheim fans who had traveled with the team held up scarves, their singing intermittent. Most of them had also heard the name Oliver for the first time.
"Who is this? From the youth team?" a middle-aged fan frowned, looking at the lineup.
Clearly, this middle-aged fan had not followed Hoffenheim's pre-season matches.
"Not from the youth team, he's a first-team substitute."
"I saw his performance in the friendly matches, he played pretty well."
His son beside him pulled out his phone and quickly searched: "His name is Oliver. He seems to have scored in the pre-season, but for an official match…" The boy shook his head.
"No information at all."
Oliver stood near the center circle, looking down and stepping on the turf. The referee's whistle was about to blow, and his professional debut was about to begin. As soon as the starting whistle blew, Hoffenheim players surged across the halfway line like a tide. Nagelsmann stood on the sidelines, hands in his suit pockets, his gaze fixed on the high-pressing formation in the attacking third. To be honest, he was a bit nervous today too. He had never used so many rotated players at once in previous German Cup matches. The camera returned to the pitch. In the attacking third, Uth, Oliver, Gnabry, and Ochs formed a diamond-shaped blockade. Their stable positioning completely disrupted Rot-Weiss Erfurt's build-up play from the back. This was the strategy Nagelsmann had set from the beginning.
In the 12th minute, Erfurt center-back André was forced to pass back to the goalkeeper under pressure, but the pass was a bit weak. Grillitsch keenly sensed the opportunity, darting forward and intercepting the ball precisely on its path. The moment he looked up, Oliver had already started his run. Grillitsch didn't just blindly push forward; he first moved two steps horizontally, shaking off the marking full-back Schmidt, then suddenly changed direction, cutting directly into the penalty area's ribs. Grillitsch's through ball rolled perfectly into Oliver's running path.
"A brilliant through ball! Erfurt's André made a back-pass error and Grillitsch successfully intercepted it. Now the ball is at Oliver's feet!" the Commentator said.
Before receiving the ball, Oliver glanced at the goalkeeper's position with his peripheral vision – slightly to the left. He didn't choose the conventional first touch to control the ball. Instead, he lightly nudged it with the outside of his right foot, allowing the ball to bounce inwards. At the same time, he abruptly stopped and changed direction, faking out the other center-back, Merkel, who was rushing to close him down. This was an extremely clever piece of play, as it both avoided the frontal defense and created a shooting angle for himself. Before Merkel could turn and chase, Oliver had already swung his left foot, unleashing a powerful shot that rocketed into the top right corner of the goal!
"GOOOOOOOOOAL! Hoffenheim lead 1-0! The scorer is, Oliver!!!" Commentator Weber's voice suddenly rose.
"I have to say, this 17-year-old kid is starting to surprise me! He's scored on his professional debut in the German Cup!"
His partner Schneider almost jumped out of his chair: "Look at the goal sequence! Grillitsch's tackle was beautiful, but Oliver's positioning and finishing are like a seasoned veteran! He deliberately moved horizontally to create a false impression, and his composure after receiving the ball is terrifying!"
Nagelsmann on the sidelines finally took his hands out of his pockets, clapping forcefully, a satisfied smile on his face. And in the stands, the Hoffenheim fans, who had been discussing animatedly with beer cups in hand, instantly erupted. Some fans who hadn't watched the pre-season matches turned to their companions in confusion: "Who is this kid?"
But more people were already shouting improvised chants at the top of their lungs: "Oliver - Oliver - Oliver! Our finisher!"
The Erfurt players, meanwhile, exchanged bewildered glances. Goalkeeper Lukas pounded the post in frustration, while center-back Merkel stared at Oliver's retreating back, his face grim. The full-back Schmidt, who had just been easily beaten, spat on the ground and yelled to his teammate: "Next time, don't let him turn!"
But Oliver had already slid on his knees towards the sideline, leaving two clear marks on the turf. When he stood up, Gnabry laughed and jumped onto his back, and Uth almost joined them in a pile-up. Hoffenheim's attack did not let up.
In the 31st minute, Posch and Gnabry on the left flank executed a textbook overlapping run. Posch first feigned going to the byline, then suddenly cut back and passed to the overlapping Gnabry, while he himself made a reverse run into the box, drawing away defenders. Gnabry was not greedy, playing a low cross towards Ochs, the attacking midfielder, near the penalty spot.
At this point, Erfurt's center-back Merkel had been drawn out by Ochs's run, completely missing Oliver's late run from deep. Ochs's pass wasn't perfectly precise, but fortunately, Erfurt reacted too slowly, and the ball successfully reached the right side. Oliver had already moved forward to receive it. He paused subtly before touching the ball, deliberately letting it roll half a step further. This change in rhythm completely wrong-footed the chasing Schmidt.
Then, with a delicate touch of the inside of his right foot, the ball skimmed across the turf and nestled into the far corner!
2-0!
"Another one! Oliver gets a brace!" Weber's voice was almost breaking. "I can't believe my eyes! This kid has dismantled Erfurt's defense in 25 minutes! His positioning is so smart, it's like he has eyes in the back of his head!"
This was largely thanks to Oliver watching a lot of match footage recently. His game reading ability had improved so much since he first joined Hoffenheim. Schneider frantically flipped through his Information Booklet: "We need to confirm again, is this really his first professional match? This kind of goal-scoring instinct is simply innate!"
The broadcast camera timely showed Nagelsmann on the sidelines. The young coach walked directly to the touchline and gave a thumbs-up to the field. And all the Hoffenheim players on the bench stood up, some even mimicking Oliver's knee-slide celebration from his first goal, playfully. The cheers from the stands grew even louder. A few young Hoffenheim fans wearing blue and white scarves frantically waved their homemade placards, on which "Oliver, No. 17" was scrawled crookedly. The young fan who had taken a photo with Oliver last time was also there, holding a placard with Oliver's number and shouting loudly.
"Oliver!!! You're playing great!!!!"
On the other side, the Erfurt players were completely stunned. Midfield maestro Menz threw his hands up in frustration, yelling at the defense: "Mark your men! Don't you have eyes? How do you keep missing him?!"
But even more disheveled was the full-back Schmidt, who was directly matched up against Oliver. He had just been thrown off balance by Oliver's fake move and was now leaning on his knees, gasping for air. He really wanted to use small fouls, but this kid wouldn't even give him a chance to get close. On one hand, it was because Oliver's speed was not slow, and on the other hand, Oliver's positioning was too good. Head coach Hofmann on the sidelines had a livid expression, constantly gesturing to intensify the pressing. He felt like swearing. After the second goal, Oliver ran towards the away fans' stand, spreading his arms to embrace their cheers. His black hair was wet with sweat, plastered to his forehead, but his eyes shone astonishingly bright.
Gnabry hugged him from behind, yelling into his ear: "Kid, you're definitely going to be on the front page tonight!"
Even the usually calm captain Vogt ran over and patted his back forcefully:
"Keep it up, kid, don't hold back!"
For the remainder of the first half, Hoffenheim continued to control the game. Oliver's performance became increasingly composed. In the 38th minute, he made a continuous change of direction on the right wing, beating two defenders before crossing, but Uth's header was slightly off target. In stoppage time, he dropped back to midfield to participate in an interception, winning the ball and then sending a precise long pass to Gnabry, drawing another gasp from the Commentator's booth.
When the referee blew the halftime whistle, the score was set at 2-0.
As Oliver walked towards the player tunnel, the Erfurt players couldn't help but look at him a few more times.Center-back Merkel even asked him in a low voice: "Your name is Oliver, right? Have you really never played a professional match before?"
Oliver just smiled and shook his head, without answering.