Chapter Thirteen: The Old Fox

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Avoiding pitfalls, seeing you feels so familiar! And then there’s Situkou! It’s wonderful to see your recommendation votes again! I hadn’t seen your votes all day until nearly midnight and thought perhaps you’d left me behind! Also, just to vent a bit... I’ve been updating, truly, but the mobile site was acting up from May 5th to 30th, the updates wouldn’t refresh... Many authors have been complaining about it in the group... Actually, I posted a chapter at midnight on the 30th, and another at noon, Brother Diqian.

Time flies; Momo’s physical injuries have nearly healed now.

There are still five days left until the match against Bayern Munich.

Momo is back on the training field. The head coach of Munich 1860, Pacult, watched from the sidelines, his gaze thoughtful as he pondered how to proceed. Should Momo start? Or should it be Laut, number 11, or Markus Schroth, number 21?

Recently, Momo’s jersey sales among fans have soared! Especially his phrase, “Once Blue, Forever Blue,” which has spread far and wide. Because of this, even though Laut and Schroth led the team to two consecutive victories, most still want Momo in the starting lineup.

Fans are driven by emotion, but Pacult has to manage the locker room and be responsible for the team.

At that moment, Pacult saw Momo training and sighed. What was he thinking? Could they really defeat Bayern Munich? Pacult had heard some things about Momo’s temperament.

Although Momo had said he was willing to be a substitute, Pacult misunderstood the remark. Many misunderstandings begin this way—like fighting with your girlfriend and saying you could find a new one any minute. If she says, “Go ahead, then!” what would you think?

Pacult shifted his gaze to Markus Schroth, remembering something.

When Momo played for Hannover 96, he had a successful partnership with a player named Karl, who stood 193 centimeters tall and acted as a playmaker and pivot. In recent matches, Laut and Schroth’s collaboration resembled Momo and Karl’s—though Laut scored most, Schroth did most of the assisting, much like Karl’s headers at Hannover 96. If so, what about Momo?

It’s not surprising Pacult shows some bias; both Laut and Schroth have been with the team for at least a season, and Pacult knows their abilities well.

If not for their lackluster performances last season, they wouldn’t have brought in Momo this year. Pacult fears their current form is just temporary.

After much deliberation, Pacult decided to wait and observe Momo’s condition over the next few days. But then, he suddenly recalled something: the sponsor who helped Shao Jiayi land in the Bundesliga—the CEO of Xinyuan Motors, Gong Daxing—seemed interested in signing Momo?

Pacult was acutely aware of Munich 1860’s financial issues.

Though Munich 1860 was once a powerhouse, the “Lions” of East Germany, double champions with a loyal fanbase, they faced an inescapable problem: Bayern Munich.

With Bayern’s presence, Munich 1860 never attracted major investors. Their financial woes were longstanding, and no big shareholders were willing to help.

It’s easy to understand: wealthy investors would easily choose between giants like Bayern and the fallen Lions, and any remaining capital injected would be minimal and come with strings attached, as with Shao Jiayi.

Given these circumstances, and since Pacult admired Momo, he quickly made his decision.

Though Laut, number 11, was performing well, he’d stagnated for years and remained at Munich 1860, surely for a reason.

When Laut debuted, the media hailed him as Germany’s future star, fast and accurate in front of goal.

Munich 1860 paid a hefty price to sign him, even taking on substantial debt. Yet Laut’s performances were inconsistent (see Mario Balotelli).

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Such players are clearly not reliable enough to be starters, nor worthy of the “future star” label, much less the investment Munich 1860 made. In the end, Laut never donned the German national team jersey, and nobody showed interest in him. Munich 1860 had made a poor deal.

The repercussions didn’t stop there. With funds so tight, Munich 1860 couldn’t sign new players and had to repay heavy debts. In this situation, selling off their talented or younger players was a matter of mutual consent.

Basically, any sought-after young or relatively young players were transferred for funds, leaving mostly seasoned veterans around thirty (nearing retirement or past their prime) or players like Markus Schroth, aged twenty-seven or twenty-eight but still underachieving, or Laut, already labeled a “flop.”

Still, despite all that, the team had won two beautiful matches! Perhaps a rotation is in order?

Pacult, the head coach of Munich 1860, was deep in thought when Laut finished training and, drenched in sweat, walked nearby. Pacult called out,

“Laut! Come here a moment!”

Laut seemed in high spirits, knowing he’d scored three goals in the past two matches and confident his standout performance would catch the coach’s eye.

“For the next match, I want Momo to start. What are your thoughts?”

Pacult, a true German, spoke with characteristic directness: yes means yes, no means no. Laut’s expression soured, but he still replied,

“Alright, Coach. I have no objections.”

Pacult could see Laut’s displeasure, but he had his ways. Pacult asked,

“Do you think we can beat Bayern Munich? Be honest!”

Laut didn’t grasp the coach’s intent and hedged,

“If we work hard, perhaps...”

Pacult cut him off,

“Though I hate to admit it, Laut, it’s very hard for us to beat Bayern Munich.”

Laut’s eyes widened in surprise at Pacult’s bluntness, but Pacult continued,

“Now do you understand? I want to use you as my secret weapon.”

At twenty-two, Laut was young and full of energy. He responded,

“What should I do, Coach!?”

Just then, Momo finished training, intending to wash up and try completing a task in his training system. He saw Laut excitedly talking to Pacult.

Pacult and Laut both noticed Momo, and Pacult signaled to wrap up their conversation. Momo watched as the enthusiastic Laut nearly brushed past him, apparently off for extra training?

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“Hey! You’re starting! Momo! You’re starting?”

Momo was startled, then turned to scrutinize Laut’s expression—so cheerful—and soon Laut was gone, not even his silhouette visible.

Laut’s excitement was palpable; the coach had just told him about Momo’s breakout match—Costa Rica, the World Cup, coming off the bench to score! Laut’s mind was full of phrases like “expend energy,” “preserve stamina,” “coming on to turn the tide,” and so forth.

“Ahem, Momo? Is your leg fully recovered? What did Laut just say to you?”

It was the voice of Munich 1860’s head coach, Pacult. Momo came back to himself and turned to Pacult, puzzled,

“He said I’m starting.”

It wasn’t an act; he truly didn’t understand. He knew Laut’s recent performances and thought Laut deserved to start. The plot twist caught him off guard, especially the way Laut looked at him, like someone about to be tricked.

“Coach!? Am I really starting? Against Bayern Munich?”

Pacult regarded Momo’s bewildered eyes and smiled softly,

“Yes, that’s right, it’s you, Momo. I’ve said before that I have high hopes for you.”

Momo was a little overwhelmed. Though he’d scored twice in his debut, it was only against weak Rostock—typically a team struggling near the relegation zone at season’s end.

His two goals weren’t especially remarkable, barely covered in the press, the biggest news being that newly promoted Bielefeld claimed the top spot on goal difference.

“This match is crucial. Our relationship with Bayern Munich—you understand, I hope—is such that we must give everything to win. This is not just a league game; it’s a city derby.”

Momo didn’t have much feeling for city derbies.

Though he’d shouted “Once Blue, Forever Blue” in the midst of roaring sixty thousand fans, swept up in the moment,

It was really just like singing, reciting poetry, or saying something impressive when you’re caught up in the excitement.

Yet now, Momo was confused! Well, if he had a god’s-eye view and knew what Pacult had said to both him and Laut, he might not be so surprised.

“Alright, Coach! I’ll do my best.”

Pacult was pleased with Momo’s attitude; the scene had even convinced himself. Momo, unsurprisingly, threw himself into extra training—though his extra training was more like a golden cheat, happening in his mind.

Hey, Pacult! Your fox’s tail is showing!