Chapter 8: Between the Lines – Building for the Start
📅 November 11–15, 2019
📍 Dortmund Training Grounds, Germany
Monday – Recovery Is Mental Too
The morning fog hung over Dortmund's Brackel training complex as players shuffled in. Some laughed, some stretched lazily, others still half-asleep. But Karl arrived early. Again.
Not as the last name on the team sheet anymore — but not yet a regular.
He laced up his boots and jogged quietly along the perimeter of the pitch while most were still in the gym. The soreness from Der Klassiker still lingered in his thighs, but he welcomed it.
Every step hurts a little. Good. That means I gave something.
Reus passed him on the track. "You're here before the sun again?"
Karl smirked. "Trying to race it."
Reus grinned. "Keep winning, and you'll catch it eventually."
Tuesday – Tactical Grind
Lucien Favre's voice echoed sharp and commanding across the session.
"Ball tempo! Faster! Think, then move!"
The squad trained for the upcoming Bundesliga fixture: Dortmund vs Mainz.
A home game.
A real opportunity for rotation — maybe Karl's name would be in the starting eleven.
Tactical work centered on width and rapid vertical progression. Karl operated as a left-sided forward in the 4-2-3-1 during drills, linking with Sancho and Brandt.
He took notes mentally:
Drop between lines to receive in half-spaces.
Exploit blindside on overlapping fullbacks.
Don't overplay — 3-touch maximum near the box.
After the second tactical block, Karl approached the analyst. "Can I watch the Mainz build-up patterns from their last three matches?"
The analyst blinked. "You sure?"
Karl nodded. "Want to learn where the cracks are."
Wednesday – Chemistry & Clashes
A 10v10 simulation turned fierce. Karl, sharp off the turn, nutmegged Akanji with a roll-and-snap combo, then curled one past Bürki.
"Damn!" Akanji laughed. "What do you eat in the morning?"
"I don't know ," Karl replied with a half-smile.
Sancho jogged over, grinning. "You sure you're German? That was samba, bro."
Karl chuckled. "Thx Fam "
They fist-bumped.
From then on, Sancho started sitting near Karl at lunch. The locker room banter opened up. He learned Jadon was obsessed with dancehall, had an extra pair of Balenciagas for "off-vibe emergencies", that is crazy hahahahaha.
Karl liked it. It balanced him out. Ice and flame.
Thursday – Masterclass with Reus
That evening, after team drills wound down, Karl lingered. Ball, cones, and total focus.
He set up 10 balls at the edge of the box, each positioned for a right-footed free kick.
The sun was dropping low, painting the turf golden.
Reus walked over, carrying a single ball.
"You aiming to bend physics today?" he joked.
Karl turned. "Trying to understand it first."
"Then let me help."
Reus placed his ball. "Watch the hip angle. Lock your plant foot, slice with the arch—not the toe. No extra power. Let the technique do the work."
Karl mimicked it. On the third try, the ball clipped the underside of the bar and dipped in.
"Better," Reus said. "You've got a clean hit.
Now just polish it."
"Why are you helping me so much?" Karl asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
Reus shrugged. "Because someone once did it for me. And because I see what you're carrying."
Karl was quiet.
Reus smiled. "Besides, it's better you master it with number 13. Eleven is already taken."
Friday – Coach's Talk and Preparation
After training, Lucien Favre called Karl into his office. Tactical board. Clips on loop.
"You've worked hard this week," the coach said in his calm French-accented German.
"Tomorrow… you'll start."
Karl didn't react wildly. No grin. No gasp. Just a subtle inhale.
"Left wing. Track back when possession is lost. Watch their number 2 — he likes to underlap. Be ready to switch with Sancho mid-match."
"I'll be ready," Karl said. Firm. Certain
.
Favre nodded. "Play with joy. But play with control."
Friday Night – Calm Before Storm
Back in his apartment, Karl sat at his desk. Matchday boots shined. Shirt freshly pressed. His mother was in the guest room, already asleep. She'd baked him an apple tart.
He checked his phone.
DM from Sancho: "Let's make this one our movie, bro 🎬🟡⚫️"
Karl replied: "Of course bro. We will win."
Before turning in, he stood by the window, looking at the city lights.
"Tomorrow," he whispered. " Is game time."