Chapter 745: Kick-Off! The Revier Derby!

It took a little bit longer than usual, as the referee needed to check more things here. From the security to the medical team, the man was sweating like a bull even before the game began. It couldn’t be helped, though, as the referee himself also realized that every eye in the world would be on this game, wanting to see how a lockdown game would be played.

Fortunately, the anticipation didn’t last that long, because....

FWEEE!

Soon enough, the whistle was finally blown by the referee, starting the game immediately. The kick-off started from Dortmund as, once again, Schalke’s captain lost the coin toss here. Still, no one really gave a shit, just moving back slowly while also waiting for the home team to throw the punch first.

Well, Dortmund players didn’t need more invitation than this. They didn’t hesitate, starting to push the line so far and occupying the opponent’s territory.

It was just the very first minute of the game, and yet Schalke had already started parking the bus there. A very pragmatic—even a little bit cowardly move—that showed their determination to get at least one point today.

"Come on, Todibo! Keep your eyes there!"

"Oz-san, that Haaland is dangerous! Don’t get fooled by his movement!"

"Nassim! Don’t get baited! Nassim!"

On the backline, Higo was already busy; his mouth was sore from shouting too much. Well, it couldn’t be helped, since Dortmund themselves were very patient. Their three defenders behind: Manuel Akanji, Matt Hummels, and Lukasz Piszczek, even made a sloppy pass that forced each other to run a little bit to receive it.

Still, Higo kept shouting from behind, not wanting them to get baited so easily like that. The boy was so sure that the moment someone caught that obvious bait, that particular Dortmund player would show his true face, controlling the ball easily to get through their victim and take advantage of the space that was left empty.

Of course, patience didn’t mean incompetence here. Even without waiting for Schalke to make a mistake, Dortmund slowly started to exert their muscles here. The two creative midfielders in the pocket space, Julian Brandt and Thorgan Hazard, slowly dropped back not only to receive the ball in a better spot, but also to bait Schalke’s defenders to get out of their comfort zone.

This effort worked well when, somehow, Weston McKennie got dragged into the center line unconsciously, and with a little feint move by moving his shoulder to the left before turning to the right side, Thorgan Hazard managed to shake him off completely, leaving the American midfielder in the dust.

"FUCK!"

Fortunately, Weston McKennie moved fast here. He knew that once Thorgan Hazard managed to start his run forward, the man would be able to create a dangerous chance for his team, so the afro-haired man didn’t even hesitate, stretching his hand far to get the opponent’s jersey.

Thud!

"ARGH!" Thorgan Hazard screamed in pain as he fell to the ground quite harshly. Even though the pull was light, with the man starting to increase his speed, any disruption was enough to bring him down to the ground, and now, he couldn’t help but complain here. "Ref! That’s a yellow!"

Weston himself just accepted it readily, not even complaining when he was given the card. The man was self-aware that what he did was a professional foul, and he was just lucky that it didn’t end up in a red card.

Still, this was just the 6th minute of the game, and getting a card this early was not a very good sign. At least, this time, Dortmund had a glaring target on the opponent’s side right now, as they could just keep the ball around Weston to force another foul from that man.

If Weston was being too cautious, at least, his speed would be reduced by a lot, which would make it easier for Dortmund to exploit the midfield. However, if they were lucky enough, a red card could be given to that man, and playing against ten players was definitely an easier job to do here.

This was exactly what they were doing, because after that, Julian Brandt and Achraf Hakimi made a quick one-two pass that forced the Morocco wingback to face Weston McKennie in his cut-inside move, and this time, the American midfielder hesitated at the last second before letting the opponent get away to a better space.

"Fuck! Oz-san, Bastian-san, cover for the shot!" Higo shouted while also lowering his stance quickly, ready to anticipate everything.

However, instead of shooting the ball directly, the Moroccan wing-back made a surprising move. He passed the ball to the channel, and there, Erling Haaland had already inserted himself in the space between two central defenders who were so focused on stopping Hakimi.

Thud!

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Higo couldn’t help but curse when he saw this. The boy also rushed forward, trying to shut down all the space in front of him.

Then, without even looking, Haaland finally made his move, trying to take on the near post side of the goal.

CLANK!

The ball hit the post!

It went slightly out of Higo’s reach at first before curling sharply to the inside, but fortunately, the curve was not sharp enough to guide the ball to the back of the net. The first chance for Dortmund went away just like that, and the Norwegian striker couldn’t help but groan.

"Oh, fuck off!" He kicked the grass annoyedly. "Just a few inches away! Sorry, Achraf! That pass is amazing; that’s my fault!" He didn’t forget to apologize to the wing-back who did all the dirty work earlier.

"Don’t worry, don’t worry, we will have that chance again!" Hakimi just gave a thumbs-up casually, probably thinking that the goal would come sooner or later.

Meanwhile, Higo could feel cold sweat rolling on his back. The shot before was completely the opposite of what the vision inside his head gave, and honestly, this hadn’t happened for so long that the boy himself forgot something like this could happen.

"And to think that this happened in the middle of such a crucial game like this... Fuck!"