"NOOOOOOO!!!"
"GOOOOOAAAAAL!!!"
Two sounds, impossibly different, collided in the cold November air of the Volkswagen Arena. Thirty thousand home fans clutched their heads, a collective wail of disbelief rising from the stands. Five hundred travelling Dortmund supporters answered with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the stadium. Yellow and black scarves spun like windmills. Grown men wept and embraced.
In the commentary box, Scholl had abandoned all pretence of neutrality. His voice cracked with emotion.
"A last-minute winner! I cannot believe what I've just witnessed! In the dying seconds of this match, Borussia Dortmund have snatched victory from the jaws of a draw!"
He paused, gasping for breath.
"Friends, if you are not watching this match live, you will regret it for the rest of your lives. We have just witnessed one of the greatest goals in Bundesliga history. A goal that will be shown for decades to come!"
On the pitch, Jin Hayes was still running. The ball was in the net, the goalkeeper was on the ground, and he was sprinting towards the away end, his arms spread wide, his face split by a grin of pure, uncontainable joy.
At the edge of the penalty area, he launched himself into a backflip – a move he'd practiced a thousand times on grass but never attempted in a match – landed perfectly, and opened his arms to the delirious fans.
The cameras loved him. They zoomed in on his face, that brilliant smile, those sharp eyes burning with confidence. Then they pulled back, showing the scene from above: the solitary figure in yellow, arms outstretched, the name on his back emblazoned for all to see.
No. 24 – Jin Hayes
In the broadcast truck, the director was already cueing up the replays. They showed it from every angle: the initial burst from midfield, the nutmeg on Dejagah, the roulette that left two defenders grasping, the flick over Schäfer's sliding tackle, the Marseille turn that destroyed Naldo and Barzagli. Six players beaten. Then the goalkeeper.
But it was the final moment that truly defied belief.
Jin Hayes, one-on-one with Benaglio, didn't shoot. He touched the ball left, drawing the keeper, then pulled it back, shielding it as Benaglio lunged. In the same motion, he flicked the ball up with his right foot, over his own head, and as he spun past the prone goalkeeper, the ball dropped perfectly in front of him.
He still didn't shoot.
He dribbled to the goal line, waited a heartbeat, then gently pushed the ball over the line with the inside of his foot, as if placing a delicate object on a shelf.
The silence from the Wolfsburg players said everything. They lay on the turf, faces buried in the grass, unable to comprehend what had just happened. They hadn't just been beaten. They had been humiliated. Seven opponents dribbled past – including the goalkeeper – before the ball finally entered the net.
On the touchline, Wolfsburg's coach, Felix Magath, adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers, then slumped into his seat, the air leaving his body in a long, defeated sigh.
The scoreboard was merciless.
Wolfsburg 1 – 2 Borussia Dortmund
"Four games unbeaten!" Scholl continued, his voice now hoarse but still passionate. "Dortmund, so poor in the first half of the season, have found new life! And at the heart of it is a fifteen-year-old boy from China! This goal, this victory, moves them from thirteenth to seventh in the table!"
He paused, lowering his voice. "Thomas Doll can breathe, for now. But the rumours persist – Watzke is already looking for next season's coach. Football never stops."
In the studio, the lights dimmed as the broadcast wound down. Scholl removed his headphones and leaned back, exhaling slowly.
"That was... something else."
Beside him, Toni Schumacher, the legendary goalkeeper, was still staring at the monitor. "I've faced Platini. Zico. Some of the best dribblers in history." He shook his head slowly. "I've never seen anything like that. What do you even do? How do you stop a player who can do that?"
Scholl had no answer.
>>>
In the Brackel district of Dortmund, the Heinrich household was in chaos.
Old Fritz Heinrich, eighty years old and normally confined to his wheelchair, was on his feet, dancing with his son Hans. Maria Heinrich was crying, laughing, crying again. Even Frank, the team doctor, usually so reserved, was pumping his fist and shouting at the television.
"He did it! He actually did it!"
Maria grabbed her husband's arm. "I knew it. From the first day he walked into our house, I knew he was special."
Hans grinned. "You said he looked like he needed feeding up."
"That's the same thing!"
Amidst the chaos, Anna sat quietly on the sofa, her hands folded in her lap. To anyone watching, she seemed detached, uninterested. But her eyes told a different story. They were fixed on the television, on the replay of Jin Hayes's goal, on the close-up of his face.
That smile. That wild, uninhibited, confident smile.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Her cheeks burned.
What is wrong with me?
She didn't have an answer.
>>>
The next morning, the team hotel in Wolfsburg was buzzing.
Jin Hayes sat in the restaurant, working his way through a plate of scrambled eggs, when Mats Hummels burst through the doors, laptop in hand.
"Jin! You have to see this!"
He slammed the computer onto the table. The screen showed YouTube. Below a video titled "Jin Hayes Solo Goal – Wolfsburg vs Dortmund" the view count was already in the millions.
"Millions?" Şahin choked on his bread. "In one night?"
Hummels nodded, grinning. "It's gone viral. People are calling it the goal of the decade. Some are saying it's the best solo goal they've ever seen."
Other players crowded around, jostling for a view. They watched the replay – again, and again – each time finding new details to marvel at.
"He beat seven players. Seven!"
"The goalkeeper too. That's just cruel."
"That flick at the end – how did he even think of that?"
Jin Hayes accepted the praise with a small smile, but inside, he was already thinking ahead. The goal was beautiful, yes. But it was just one moment. One victory. The season was long. The work was never done.
Şahin nudged him. "Enjoy it, genius. This doesn't happen every day."
Jin Hayes looked at his friend, then at the laptop screen, then at the celebrating team around him.
"Maybe not," he said quietly. "But I'm going to try."
>>>
None of them knew it then, but that video would one day surpass a billion views. It would be dissected, analysed, and adored by generations of football fans. And every time it was shown, people would marvel at the fifteen-year-old boy who danced through an entire team before gently placing the ball into an empty net.
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