Football singularity

Chapter 790 Moment To Remember

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[2021-05-31 | BayArena, Leverkusen | 15:35 CET]

The tunnel opened up onto the pitch, and the roar that greeted them was somehow even louder than anything they’d experienced on the parade route. The BayArena was packed to capacity OF 30,210. No one cared about the COVID regulations, as this wasn’t an official event like any organisation. Heck, even the club wasn’t hosting this event officially, as the fan-minded (fan club) had booked the stadium to stage this.

Everyone loved legal loopholes, and no one was going to miss this chance. Rakim stepped off the bus onto the concrete, sensing the lively energy in the air. The other players filed out behind him, each carrying one of the trophies or helping with equipment. The sun had broken through the clouds, casting the pitch in golden afternoon light.

"Meine Damen und Herren!" The stadium announcer’s voice boomed over the PA system. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the greatest day in Bayer 04 Leverkusen’s history!"

The crowd erupted again, a wave of sound that seemed to shake the very structure of the stadium.

"After 117 years of waiting, after decades of heartbreak and near-misses, after being called ’Neverkusen’ and ’Vizekusen’—" The announcer paused for effect. "—we are finally CHAMPIONS!"

WHOOOOOOOOOO! Red and black confetti cannons exploded from all four corners of the stadium, sending paper cascading down over the pitch. Smoke flares ignited in the Nordkurve, the ultra section, painting the air in the club’s colours.

"Today, we celebrate not one, not two, but THREE trophies!" the announcer continued. "The DFB-Pokal! The Bundesliga! And the UEFA Champions League!"

With each trophy name, the crowd’s volume increased exponentially. Players began walking out onto the pitch, waving to the fans, many still in disbelief at the scale of this moment. A temporary stage had been erected at the centre circle, adorned with banners displaying all three trophies.

A red carpet led from the tunnel to the stage, and along both sides, fans pressed against barriers set up to create a pathway. One by one, each player and club member was honoured by the fans with an MC leading the procession.

"Let us now introduce your heroes!" the announcer called out. "The men who made history!"

This section alone took twenty minutes, and by the time all the players were on stage, the stadium was absolutely electric. Peter Bosz was introduced to massive applause, as were the coaching staff and medical team.

Three podiums were set up on the stage, each draped in red and black cloth. One by one, the covers were removed, revealing the three trophies.

"THE DFB-POKAL!" the announcer called as Lars stepped forward first, lifting the cup high as confetti cannons fired again. The trophy was passed from player to player, each getting their moment to hold it above their head.

"THE MEISTERSCHALE!" This got the loudest response yet, clearly more important to the fans than any other trophy here. The Bundesliga shield gleamed in the sunlight as Tah lifted it first this time, having been captain for the final match of the season. Every player took their turn, some kissing it, others just staring at it like a deer in headlights.

"AND THE UEFA CHAMPIONS LEAGUE!" The silver trophy emerged, and the entire stadium sang in unison: "WE’VE WON IT ALL! WE’VE WON IT ALL! BLACK AND RED, WE’VE WON IT ALL!"

~~~

After the main ceremony, security opened the barriers, and fans were allowed onto the pitch in controlled groups. Small squares had been marked throughout the field with spray paint—designated areas where fans could dig up a piece of turf that had hosted this historic season.

"Take a piece of glory home!" the announcer encouraged. "The pitch that delivered the treble!"

Families descended with small shovels and trowels that the club staff had distributed. Parents helped children carefully excavate squares of grass and soil, placing them in plastic bags provided by the club.

"Papa, I don’t want grass, look, they’ve got lollipops over there!" a young boy shouted, pulling at his father’s arm, clearly having his own priorities. like it contained gold.

"Son, this is better, it’s a piece of history." His father responded, holding up the plastic bag like it contained a piece of gold.

"I can’t eat grass though I’m not a rabbit," the boy retorted, causing the smile on his father’s mouth to twitch as he let himself be dragged.

Meanwhile, players had dispersed across the pitch, signing autographs, taking photos, and interacting with fans without barriers. There was no VIP section, no roped-off area—just players and supporters sharing this moment as equals.

Rakim found himself surrounded by a crowd of fans, from old to young. He signed everything put in front of him—jerseys, flags, programs, even someone’s phone case. Some kids even decided to hang off his arms to play propeller, which he quickly realised was more of a workout for him than playing.

"Can you take a picture with my grandmother?" a middle-aged man asked. "She’s been supporting Leverkusen since 1957. She’s eighty-two."

"Of course," Rakim said, immediately stepping away from a group of kids he had just shot a TikTok with. The elderly woman was brought forward in a wheelchair, wearing a vintage Leverkusen scarf from decades ago. Her eyes were wet with tears as she saw the gold champion’s league medal hanging around his neck.

"I never thought I’d live to see this day," she said in heavily accented German.

"You want to wear it?" Rakim asked, kneeling beside her wheelchair, taking off his medal to hand it to her. "Thank you for never giving up on this club."

Her hand receiving the medal trembled as tears streaked down her face in joy. Spotting Wirtz Nearby, playing football with a group of kids, showing them tricks while their parents recorded, he waved him over. "Bring the old guys and the Silver he called over. His friend immediately understood the mission as he continued talking to the old woman.

Before he knew it, more old people had gathered around them, telling him stories of the old days. Every single one of them had a story of thinking it was their year, only to be disappointed. Some proposed to their wives in the stands, went on their first date, or had their first outing with their parents, etc.

"We’re here." By the time he had turned to see what was happening, things had escalated, and the entire squad had gathered. "Our Leverkusen honour club members, please step forward." The announcer called out, and the old men and women older than sixty stepped forward.

Most were in wheelchairs, walking sticks, or old club loyalists, and the staff quickly placed chairs in a row for them to sit. All the trophies they had conquered this year were placed in front of them, and they were handed medals by the players who quickly lined up neatly behind them, like in the official team photo.

"Let’s give a big round applause to our senior members who have been on the longest journey to reach this glory." The watching crowd immediately put their hands together, clapping loudly in an avalanche of applause. "Thank you for not giving up on us, and we couldn’t have gotten here without all of you."

Another bout of applause rang out, smiles all around as the photographers began snapping pictures. The squad of 33 players, the 9-member coaching staff, and about 20 senior citizens stood for the first pictures. The quickness, everyone else was invited to join, with small children sitting in front of the old people, and the other fans joining in the background.

The photographers worked overtime, snapping hundreds of pictures from every conceivable angle. All players listened to the fans’ requests as they broke back into smaller groups. This was for sure a moment they would all remember for years to come, and something the younger ones would want to experience again.

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TO BE CONTINUED...