Inside Volkswagen Arena, Wolfsburg fans were clearly frustrated.
Losing to Bayern was understandable, but being pushed around by Frankfurt?
That was hard to accept.
On the sideline, Dieter Hecking looked livid.
Sebastian’s earlier training match performance had already made him doubtful, but he’d given him another chance out of patience.
Clearly, Sebastian had let him down again.
“Double up defensively between the holding midfielder and wide midfielder.
Don’t let them break the 30-meter line easily.”
Hecking pulled Arnold aside and gave instructions.
But reinforcing the backline meant Wolfsburg had fewer bodies and less aggression up front.
No matter how good De Bruyne was at organizing the play, without support it was like cooking without ingredients.
And with Makoto Hasebe targeting him closely, it felt like trying to escape quicksand.
Time ticked away, and with two blasts of the whistle, the first half came to an end.
“Wolfsburg still hasn’t found their rhythm.
Maybe it’s because Perišić’s absence has affected them more than expected.”
“Last season, they relied heavily on their pace down the left to support De Bruyne in the middle and threaten the goal.”
“Let’s hope they make some adjustments at halftime and come out stronger in the second half.”
Commentator Liu Jiayuan said it calmly, but in truth, he was secretly hoping Wolfsburg would get into trouble—because that would increase Qin Ming’s chances of playing.
But to his disappointment, fifteen minutes later, the second half began, and Qin Ming remained firmly seated on the bench.
However, Wolfsburg’s tactics shifted.
They began bypassing De Bruyne, sending frequent long balls to Olić on the flanks.
The Croatian veteran, now 36, was clearly in the twilight of his career.
Though once called the “legend who never stops running,” even he couldn’t defy time.
Against Frankfurt’s defense, he was ineffective and unremarkable.
56th minute.
Rodríguez threw in a long ball.
Gustavo won the aerial duel, flicking it forward.
De Bruyne made a surprise drop deep and finally found a pocket of space.
He stopped the ball, scanning Frankfurt’s backline.
The defense was high, and Olić was making a run—two pieces of critical information instantly processed by his mind.
Then he leaned into the ball and swung his right leg hard—
Smack!
The ball carved through the air with a sharp arc, heading precisely toward its target zone.
“Frankfurt’s backline is high up—Zambrano can’t retreat in time!”
“Olić is through on goal?!”
“No!
It’s Hasebe!
He read De Bruyne’s pass and tracked Olić the whole way!”
“Brilliant!
He stops a one-on-one with a tactical foul and takes a yellow for the team!”
The camera cut to Frankfurt coach Thomas Schaaf gently applauding with admiration in his eyes.
Though Hasebe stood only 180 cm, he wasn’t physically imposing by Bundesliga standards.
But his experience, technique, vision, and ability to read the game were top-tier.
He was perfectly suited for Frankfurt’s defensive system.
“He’s the smartest defensive player in the Bundesliga,” Schaaf praised.
Meanwhile, Hecking was silent.
He took off his glasses and rubbed his brow.
A rare opportunity had been snuffed out by the opponent yet again.
As his eyes landed on Hasebe, he instinctively turned to the bench—and locked eyes with a young face.
He stopped hesitating and said in a low voice, “Nicolas, Junior, and Qin—warm up.
You’re going in.”
He planned to make a triple substitution to try and seize control in the later stages of the match.
He had no choice.
If things continued like this, it would remain deadlocked.
Olić’s stamina had clearly dropped.
He was no longer putting pressure on Frankfurt’s defense.
And relying solely on Bendtner… well, let’s just say his confidence far outweighed his ability.
Upon hearing this, Qin Ming raised his eyebrows.
He’d been mentally prepared, but now that the moment had come—
Yeah… he was still a little excited.
Fortunately, Volkswagen Arena only held 30,000 fans.
If his debut had been at Allianz Arena, the pressure might’ve crushed him.
Beside him, Bendtner held his head high and clapped Qin on the shoulder.
“Don’t be nervous.
Just stick to your role and do your job.”
Then he stared intensely at Frankfurt’s goal, eyes practically burning.
He was ready to prove himself to the world.
Qin Ming didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
He’d done some research on Bendtner.
One headline in particular stood out—Arsenal’s sports psychologist once published a report in the Swedish magazine Offside in 2011 measuring players’ confidence, focus, and determination.
In the “self-perception” category, Bendtner didn’t just outscore his teammates—he broke the 9-point scale with a 10.
Truly worthy of the title “King of Confidence.”
Now he knelt on the grass, kissed the turf, then jumped in place twice.
“Damn… not only is this guy the King of Confidence, he’s also got a performer’s personality!
The Danish prince strikes again!”
Qin Ming rolled his eyes internally.
The entire stadium was focused on Bendtner.
For Wolfsburg fans, a flicker of hope reignited.
His raw confidence was contagious.
Frankfurt fans, however, looked nervous.
Bendtner’s theatrical entrance made it feel like a football king was entering the pitch.
As for Qin Ming, standing beside him, he was completely overlooked.
No one paid attention to the Asian kid.
Even Hasebe on the field gave him just a passing glance before turning away.
Soon, the match resumed.
With the substitutions made, both teams clearly intended to break the deadlock.
But on CCTV Sports, commentator Liu Jiayuan could hardly contain his excitement:
“Our young player Qin Ming is making his Bundesliga debut!”
“After three long years, we finally have another Chinese player on the Bundesliga stage!”
“The last one to appear was Hao Junmin.”
“On April 23, 2011, he started for Schalke 04 as a right-back.
It was his only Bundesliga appearance.”
“I still remember clearly—behind him was Neuer, in front was Farfán, and up top were Raúl and Edu.”
“But sadly, Hao Junmin only ended up with 14 Bundesliga appearances, 0 goals, and 0 assists.”
“Let’s hope Qin Ming scores or at least gets an assist today!”
“Haha, maybe that’s too much pressure.
As long as he plays well, that’s enough.”
Liu Jiayuan’s voice carried a hint of melancholy.
He didn’t know exactly when it happened, but people had stopped expecting anything from Chinese footballers—had stopped hoping for Chinese football at all.
There were surely many reasons.
But the ones who suffered most were the fans—who came with hope, only to leave in disappointment time and time again.
(END CHAPTER)