Become A Football Legend

Saturday, 16 August 2025 – 11:00 a.m.

Manchester City’s players occupied one of the conference rooms inside a team hotel in Wolverhampton, dressed in matching club travel gear as breakfast trays and coffee cups gradually disappeared from the tables. The atmosphere was relaxed but focused. Conversations drifted around the room, stopping only when Bernardo Silva and Pep Lijnders walked through the doors.

Bernardo carried a folded sheet of paper.

"The boss has decided the team."

The room settled almost instantly.

He unfolded the page and began reading.

"James Trafford."

Trafford gave a small nod.

"Rayan Aït-Nouri. Rúben Dias. John Stones. Rico Lewis."

Each player acknowledged their name with little more than a raised hand.

"Nico González."

"Here."

"Bernardo Silva."

Bernardo pointed to himself with a grin before continuing.

"Tijjani Reijnders."

The Dutch midfielder leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

Then Bernardo reached the front three.

"Jérémy Doku... Erling Haaland... Oscar Bobb."

Oscar quietly clenched both fists beneath the table.

It was almost instinctive.

Nobody celebrated loudly when the lineup was announced anymore, but for Oscar this meant something else. Everyone inside the squad already knew his move away from Manchester City was close. The club wanted him playing, wanted Premier League clubs to see him fit and confident before the transfer was finalized.

Erling leaned sideways and nudged Lukas with his elbow.

"Don’t worry. You’ll get your turn."

Lukas smiled.

"I know."

Across from them, Cherki merely shrugged with an easy grin.

"We’ll have plenty of games."

Pep Lijnders stepped to the front once Bernardo finished.

"Right, boys."

He walked toward the tactical board where Wolves’ shape had already been arranged with magnetic markers.

"They’ll defend in a compact block, but they leave spaces when they jump to press. Bernardo, Nico, Tijjani, that’s where the game starts. If we move the ball quickly enough through midfield, we can force their six to choose. Once he commits, Jeremy attacks the outside and Oscar comes inside."

He moved a magnet representing Haaland.

"Erling, occupy both centre-backs. Don’t chase the ball. Make them worry about you."

Haaland nodded.

Pep Lijnders shifted another magnet.

"Rico, when Oscar comes inside, you’re the width. Don’t arrive too early. Make the full-back choose."

Another adjustment.

"If they press high, James plays through the first line. If they sit off, we stay patient. We don’t force anything."

The room remained silent as he continued walking through pressing triggers, defensive positioning, and the patterns Guardiola wanted repeated throughout the afternoon.

Lukas listened carefully without saying a word.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Of course he wanted to start. Every footballer did.

But this was Manchester City.

Nobody walked straight into Pep Guardiola’s starting eleven.

He had expected this from the day he signed.

His opportunity would come.

Whether it was today, next week, or the week after made little difference to him.

He only needed one, whether it was a substitute appearance or a start.

And once that opportunity arrived, he intended to make himself impossible to leave out again.

Pep Lijnders clapped his hands together.

"All right, gentlemen. Finish your preparation, get some rest, and we’ll leave for Molineux in ninety minutes."

Chairs scraped against the floor as the players stood.

Haaland stretched his arms over his head.

"Come on, Luke. Let’s go get three points."

Lukas stood beside him, grabbed his backpack, and followed the rest of the squad out of the meeting room.

His Premier League debut was closer than it had ever been.

* * *

Molineux Stadium, Wolverhampton

Saturday, 16 August 2025 – 2:30 p.m.

The roar greeted them long before they stepped onto the pitch.

As Manchester City’s players emerged from the tunnel for their warm-up, Molineux was already almost full. Gold shirts filled the stands, broken only by the pocket of travelling City supporters tucked behind one of the goals, blue scarves already waving despite kickoff still being half an hour away.

The stadium announcer read each City’s name as they jogged out.

"...And now welcoming our visitors for the first fixture of the 2026/2027 Premier League season, Manchester City!"

"No. 1 Trafford!"

A mixture of cheers and boos rolled around the ground as the announcer went through the starting 11 of the City players from the goalkeeper ending with Erling Haaland.

"No. 9, Haaland!"

Then he moved on to the bench players. "No. 17, Lucas Brandt!"

The loudest reaction by far.

Curiosity more than hostility.

Some applauded while others booed, but most simply wanted to see what the seventeen-year-old everyone had been talking about could actually do.

Lukas jogged across the immaculate grass before joining the substitutes in a passing drill. After a few minutes he glanced towards the upper tier behind one of the dugouts.

He spotted them almost immediately.

Javi and Joanna.

Both waved.

Lukas smiled and raised a hand before trapping the ball that Rico Lewis had rolled toward him.

The starters gradually split away for more intensive work with Pep Lijnders, while the substitutes slowed things down with lighter technical exercises with Kolo Toure.

Eventually, Ilkay Gündoğan wandered over with a football tucked under one arm.

They stood watching the others for a moment, Lukas resting one boot on top of a ball.

Gündoğan spoke quietly in German.

"I think I’m actually going to do it."

Lukas turned.

"Do what?"

Gündoğan looked out across the pitch instead of answering immediately.

"Remember the conversation we had last week? I think I’m actually going to do it."

* * *

One week earlier

City Football Academy, Manchester

The session had been almost entirely tactical.

Pep Guardiola had repeatedly stopped play, moving players by hand into different positions as he explained how he wanted his wingers to react after winning possession.

"Jeremy... Savio... Rayan... Oscar... Luke..."

He pointed across the pitch.

"When we recover the ball, I don’t want you standing still waiting. I want movement immediately. If Jeremy goes wide, Luke attacks inside. If Luke stays, Oscar runs beyond. Always give the player on the ball two options. Always."

He repositioned Bernardo Silva himself.

"The first pass wins you possession. The second pass starts the attack."

For nearly forty minutes Guardiola dissected every pressing trigger, every counter-attacking pattern and every positional rotation until even the coaching staff were scribbling notes.

Playing for Pep required far more than technical ability.

Every movement had a purpose, and every position changed depending on where the ball was.

When the session finally paused, Pep Lijnders’ phone buzzed.

He glanced down.

A grin spread across his face.

He clapped loudly.

The players stopped what they were doing.

Pep looked over.

"What is it?"

Lijnders walked across and handed him the phone.

Pep read it, smiled, then looked straight at Lukas.

"Congratulations."

Lukas blinked.

"For what?"

Lijnders turned the phone around.

The headline filled the screen.

Kicker Magazine

German Footballer of the Year 2025

1. Lukas Brandt — 200 votes

2. Florian Wirtz — 95 votes

Further down came Michael Olise, Nick Woltemade and the rest of the voting.

For a brief second Lukas simply stared.

Then the applause started.

Players whistled.

Haaland clapped him on the shoulder.

Bernardo shouted across the pitch.

"C’mon, German Player of the Year!"

Even Pep joined the applause before pointing a finger at him.

"What you did at Frankfurt was wonderful. But if you want to win it again next year, you have to do it here."

Lukas nodded.

"I’ll do my best."