Become A Football Legend

Lukas picked the ball up just past the halfway line, the pitch stretching open before him. Every Leverkusen defender had been caught upfield, scrambling to recover, but none close enough to intervene. The roar inside the stadium swelled as he surged forward with long, powerful strides, the green grass unfolding like a runway beneath his boots.

Closer and closer he drove, each touch measured, carrying him past the last traces of resistance until the white lines of the penalty area rose to meet him.

Hradecky, realizing the danger, abandoned his line and came charging out, arms spread, body set to smother the ball before Lukas could finish.

But Lukas never hesitated. At full speed, with the keeper bearing down, he shaped to strike hard — then with a deft flick of his left foot, he disguised the effort.

"Brandt with a chance to win this for Eintracht Frankfurt!... One-on-one with the goalkeeper. He has García and Mukiele on his tails... WATCH THIS! WATCH THIS! Will he make this count? LUKAS BRANDTTTTT, OF COURSE HE WILL!!!! At the death! Lukas Brandt has just single-handedly won this game for Eintracht Frankfurt. WHAT A RUN! WHAT A FINISH!"

The ball skipped off the turf with a subtle bounce, the kind that wrong-footed goalkeepers dread. Hradecky lunged, his timing undone, as the ball hopped gently over his outstretched leg and rolled into the back of the net.

The stadium erupted as Lukas ran to the advertisement board near the corner flag, all signs of calmness shed, his veins bulging from his neck as he screamed at the top of his lungs.

The fans, the substitute players, the teammates on the pitch, they all crowded around him as they celebrated.

"JUST LOOK AT WHAT IT MEANS TO HIM! A WIN AGAINST THE REIGNING CHAMPIONS IN THE DYING MINUTE! TAKE A BOW, LUKAS BRANDT!"

As the players gradually dispersed, Lukas turned back to face the fans, grabbed part of the shirt where the badge was, and kissed the Eintracht Frankfurt eagle again and again.

The cheers got even louder as Lukas showed his dedication to the club. The fans already loved him, but he was gradually turning into a cult hero — and it hadn't even been three months since his professional debut.

The game resumed with a last-ditch effort from Leverkusen to salvage a point as all 11 players were right on the line while Wirtz kicked off with a back-pass to Hradecky as the entire team ran into Eintracht's final third while the goalkeeper launched the ball down the pitch.

They had successfully achieved last-minute wins or comebacks in several games the previous season as they went on their unbeaten run with more than 10 match-deciding goals scored during added time.

This game, however, was not to be one of those as the referee's whistle blew to end the match after a struggle between Højlund and Tella resulted in the former thumping the ball out of Eintracht Frankfurt's half.

"And it is over! Eintracht Frankfurt has handed Leverkusen their first loss away from home in one and a half seasons. And the man of the match, Eintracht's player of the moment, is none other than Lukas Brandt. With two goals and an assist, including the winner in the third minute of extra time, he has single-handedly put the reigning Bundesliga champions to the sword!"

The whistle was like music to the ears of both the crowd and the players as they celebrated their unlikely win.

Lukas received tight hugs from his teammates, especially Larsson, who ran out to the pitch immediately the final whistle went and leaped on him.

"Lukasssss!!!! That was a beautiful goal!" Larsson screamed as he climbed on Lukas's back in the middle of the pitch.

"Bro, come down first, you're gonna pull me to the ground," Lukas replied as he shrugged off his friend and teammate before smiling.

"How did you score that goal like that? I have never seen you do that in training before," Larsson asked as he jumped off Lukas's back.

"You haven't seen me do it, doesn't mean I haven't been practicing it. I was watching Özil's compilation on YouTube the other day, and it looked so sick so I decided to practice it."

"And now, one-on-one, in the dying minute against the reigning champions, that's when it occurred to you to try it, huh?"

"What can I say? I have nerves of steel," Lukas joked as he gently flicked his nose with his index finger.

As they stood and looked around the stadium, a middle-aged man in his early 40s walked up to Lukas.

"Lukas Brandt, right? Good game today," he said as he stretched his hand for a handshake.

"Mr. Alonso. Thank you," Lukas replied as he shook his hand firmly.

It was Xabi Alonso, a man who had a stellar career as a player and had already amassed a huge reputation in his relatively short stint as a coach.

It would not be an overstatement to say he was the most sought-after manager in world football at the moment, with solid links to Real Madrid.

"I hope to see you again sometime soon," Alonso whispered as he tapped Lukas on his shoulder and walked out to greet other people.

"See me again? What for?" Lukas thought as he watched Alonso walk away. "He would be moving to Real Madrid at the end of this season anyway," he concluded as he turned his attention to his coach who had come over to give him a hug.

"How're your fingers?" Toppmöller asked for the second time that day.

"They're fine. Maybe it's because of the adrenaline, but I don't feel the pain at all," he responded as he looked at his left hand. The bandage wrapping his ring and index finger together now stained brown as he tried to wiggle the fingers.

"Make sure you get checked tonight."

"I will."

"Good. For now, go greet the fans, they are itching to see you up close," Toppmöller said as he tapped Lukas on his back and walked away.

"Come on, let's go!" Larsson said, grabbing Lukas's uninjured arm as he pulled him towards the fans.

The fervor in the stands grew to a thunderous crescendo as Lukas walked closer to them.

Fans waving the scarves and the mini flags, shirts twirling in the air — this was an atmosphere he had never experienced on this ground before.

Sure, there had been huge celebrations after every win, but there was just something about this.

Beating the reigning champions, Bayer Leverkusen for that matter, and handing them their first loss away from home in over 25 games was something to celebrate.

Something to celebrate wildly.

As he walked down the advertisement board applauding the players, his eyes met a young boy, about seven or eight years old, sitting on his father's shoulders and waving at him as hard as he could.

"You want this?" Lukas mouthed at the kid as he pointed to his shirt.

The kid nodded frantically and Lukas pulled his shirt off his back, balled it up, and threw it to the kid who was starting to bawl his eyes out in tears. The long-sleeved vest he was wearing under his shirt, due to the cold weather, was now his outermost garment.

The stadium applauded the gesture as Lukas continued his walk with his teammates.

After a few minutes with the fans, Lukas looked behind him, scanning around the pitch as if he was looking for someone in particular.

"Who are you looking for?" Knauff asked, noticing Lukas's movements.

"Florian Wirtz. I really wanna talk to him."