Become A Football Legend-Chapter 277: Eyes on the Goal

Later that afternoon, after the physical session on the pitch had finished and the players had completed their recovery work, the squad gathered inside the club’s analysis room.

The space was dimly lit, rows of seats facing a large screen mounted on the wall. Laptops sat open in front of a few staff members while assistants moved quietly along the sides of the room. The players settled into their chairs, some still holding bottles of water, others stretching their legs after training.

The mood was calm but attentive.

Lukas sat near the middle of the room between Knauff and Ekitike, leaning back slightly as the lights dimmed further.

At the front stood Dino Toppmöller, arms folded.

He waited until everyone had settled.

"Alright," he said.

The screen flickered to life.

A press conference clip appeared. The Tottenham Hotspur crest was visible behind the podium.

Then Ange Postecoglou appeared on the screen.

A few players shifted forward slightly.

They knew where this was going.

Postecoglou spoke calmly in the clip, answering a journalist’s question.

"As I’ve said before," the Spurs manager said confidently, "I always win something in my second season."

The room remained quiet as the video continued.

"We’re in a European final now," Postecoglou added. "And I’m 100 percent confident this team will finish the job."

The clip ended.

The screen froze on the Tottenham logo.

Toppmöller let the silence sit for a moment before speaking.

"So," he said slowly.

He looked around the room.

"That’s the confidence level on the other side."

A few players smirked.

"They are absolutely convinced they will beat us," Toppmöller continued.

He stepped closer to the screen.

"They think this final is theirs."

He turned back toward the team.

"And honestly... I understand why."

Some players exchanged looks.

"Trophy-winning manager," Toppmöller continued. "Premier League club. Huge squad. Huge budget."

He shrugged slightly.

"On paper, they are supposed to win."

The room remained silent.

Then his tone sharpened.

"But football is not played on paper."

A few players nodded.

"For the next two weeks," he said, pointing lightly toward the screen, "this is the only game that matters."

He paused briefly.

"Forget Friday."

Some heads lifted.

"Yes," Toppmöller said firmly. "We have Freiburg on Friday. We will respect that game. We will play professionally."

"But that is not the mission."

He tapped the screen behind him.

"The mission is Bilbao."

The word hung in the air.

"Two weeks from now," he continued, "we walk into San Mamés and we play a European final."

His voice remained calm but carried weight.

"Tottenham believes this is already decided."

He looked across the room slowly.

"I want them to keep believing that."

A few smiles appeared among the players.

"Because while they’re talking about destiny and second seasons..."

He paused again.

"We will be working."

He gestured toward the staff sitting along the wall.

"For the next two weeks we study them. Every movement. Every pressing trigger. Every defensive weakness."

The players leaned forward slightly.

"We prepare," he continued.

"Not just to compete."

He shook his head.

"To win."

His gaze moved across the room again, briefly landing on Lukas.

"Finals are not played with fear," he said.

"They are played with courage."

He stepped back slightly.

"You have already done something special this season. Nobody expected us to reach this stage."

He pointed toward the screen again.

"But now that we are here..."

His voice hardened slightly.

"...we don’t walk away empty-handed."

Silence followed.

Then Toppmöller nodded once.

"Training resumes tomorrow morning."

He turned the screen off.

"And from this moment forward," he said, glancing around the room one last time,

"everything we do is about Bilbao."

* * *

Friday, May 16.

The sun had already begun dipping behind the stands of the Europa-Park Stadion when the final whistle blew.

Frankfurt players raised their arms toward the away end, applauding the travelling supporters who had filled the corner of the stadium with black-and-white scarves. The scoreboard above the pitch glowed brightly in the evening light.

SC Freiburg 1 — 5 Eintracht Frankfurt

The match had ended only moments earlier, but the noise from the Frankfurt fans was still rolling through the stadium.

Down on the pitch, Lukas walked slowly toward them, clapping above his head. The Man of the Match award was tucked under one arm. Sweat still clung to his hair, his shirt damp from ninety relentless minutes.

Around him, teammates did the same—Ekitike exchanging shirts with a Freiburg player, Knauff jogging toward the touchline, the rest of the squad acknowledging the travelling fans who had made the trip south.

Up in the commentary booth, the broadcasters were still trying to process what they had just watched.

"An absolute demolition," one of them said. "And perhaps the most brutal timing imaginable for Freiburg."

The stakes coming into the match had been brutally simple.

It was the final matchday of the Bundesliga season.

Freiburg entered the day sitting in 4th place.

All they needed was a win.

Win the match, and Champions League football would be theirs next season, regardless of what Borussia Dortmund did elsewhere.

The stadium had been full hours before kickoff, the crowd sensing the opportunity.

But ninety minutes later, everything had changed.

Because Dortmund had done their job.

And Freiburg... had not.

With the defeat, Dortmund leapfrogged them into 4th place, pushing Freiburg down into 5th, a place that meant Europa League football next season instead of the Champions League.

One of the commentators sighed.

"A brutal way for Freiburg’s season to end."

He paused before adding,

"Though... there is still a faint possibility."

His partner picked up the thought immediately.

"Yes, and it’s a complicated one."

He began explaining as replays rolled across the screen.

"The UEFA coefficient rankings currently have England first, Spain second, and Germany third."

"If Germany manages to climb into second place by the end of the European competitions next week, the Bundesliga would gain five Champions League spots instead of four."

"And if that happens..."

He paused.

"Freiburg, sitting in 5th, would suddenly find themselves back in the Champions League."

The camera cut briefly to Freiburg players sitting exhausted on the grass.

"But for that to happen," the commentator continued, "two very specific things must occur."

"First: Eintracht Frankfurt must defeat Tottenham in the Europa League final."

"And second: Chelsea must defeat Real Betis in the Conference League final."

"If both of those happen, Germany overtakes Spain in the coefficient rankings."

"And Freiburg gets a Champions League lifeline."

Back on the pitch, Lukas had reached the away section and raised both arms again.

The fans roared.

Then someone approached him from the side.

The Freiburg manager.

He walked up calmly, placing a hand on Lukas’ shoulder and saying something with a small smile.

Lukas laughed lightly in response.

The camera zoomed in on the two of them speaking.

Up in the booth, the commentators chuckled.

"I’ll tell you exactly what he’s saying."

"Oh?"

"He’s begging him to do the same thing to Tottenham next week."

Both laughed.

"And honestly," the second commentator added, "after what we saw today... he might just do it."

Because from the opening whistle, Frankfurt had simply been the better team.

Even with Freiburg’s stadium packed with hopeful supporters, Frankfurt controlled the match almost immediately.

Yet it was Freiburg who struck first.

In the 18th minute, a cross swung in from the right side of the box found their striker Michael Gregoritsch rising between two defenders. His header was powerful and precise, crashing into the net past Trapp.

The stadium exploded.

For a brief moment, Freiburg believed.

1–0.

But that moment did not last long.

Frankfurt responded with ruthless efficiency.

Just ten minutes later, Lukas received the ball between the lines near midfield. He turned quickly, spotting Ekitike beginning a diagonal run behind the defense.

The pass came instantly.

A perfectly weighted through-ball slicing through Freiburg’s back line.

Ekitike sprinted onto it, took one touch to steady himself, and slid the ball past the goalkeeper.

1–1.

Frankfurt fans erupted.

The equalizer shifted the entire rhythm of the match.

From that point onward, Freiburg struggled to regain control. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

And then Lukas struck.

In the 34th minute, he picked up the ball just outside the right edge of the penalty area. A Freiburg midfielder stepped forward to close him down.

Lukas nudged the ball past him with a quick touch.

One step into space.

Then he curled a shot toward the far corner.

The ball bent beautifully, rising just beyond the goalkeeper’s reach before dipping into the top corner.

2–1.

The stadium fell quiet except for the away section.

Before Freiburg could recover, Frankfurt struck again.

Late in the first half, a quick passing sequence down the right opened space for Knauff. He drove into the box and finished sharply across goal.

3–1.

Halftime arrived with Freiburg stunned.

And the second half only made things worse.

A/N: Thanks to all of you for your support and gifts and GTs and Power stones so far. I really couldn’t have done any of these things without you guys. I really appreciate it.

Hope you have a great day.

Love y’all.

-Writ.