Evening of March 24, Bernabéu Stadium, Madrid, Spain.
In the world of football, few stadiums hold the legendary status of the Bernabéu. For fans across the globe, this is not just a football ground—it is a cathedral, a place where history has been written time and time again. Tonight, under the bright lights, it was set to host another chapter in that storied legacy, as some of the most iconic names in the sport prepared to take the field.
The Bernabéu, with its capacity of over 70,000, was buzzing with anticipation. The sheer star power on display was unparalleled, even in the long annals of European football. Real Madrid's current manager, Carlos Queiroz, was once the trusted assistant to Sir Alex Ferguson at Manchester United and had also coached the golden generation of Portuguese footballers, including Figo and Rui Costa. But tonight, he faced a different challenge—guiding the Galácticos in a crucial Champions League quarter-final.
Real Madrid's recent form had been less than stellar. After their triumph over Bayern Munich in the round of 16, their momentum had faltered. A 1-1 draw against Zaragoza in La Liga was followed by a grueling Copa del Rey final, where they were pushed to the limit by the same Zaragoza side, eventually losing 3-2 in extra time. To compound their woes, they suffered a 4-2 defeat to Athletic Bilbao in their next league match, despite Raul's heroics. This marked the first time all season that Real Madrid had lost two consecutive games.
Yet, as they prepared to face Ajax, there was a glimmer of hope. Ronaldo, who had been sidelined with an injury, was back in the squad, ready to lead the line. Raul, though nursing a knock from the Bilbao game, was fit to start. However, Roberto Carlos, their dynamic left-back, would miss the match due to a suspension after accumulating too many yellow cards.
Real Madrid lined up in their familiar 4-2-3-1 formation. Iker Casillas, the ever-reliable shot-stopper, stood between the posts. The back line was made up of Raúl Bravo, Álvaro Mejía, Iván Helguera, and Michel Salgado. In midfield, Guti and David Beckham formed the double pivot, while the attacking trio of Zinedine Zidane, Raúl, and Luis Figo provided the creative spark behind Ronaldo, who spearheaded the attack.
The Galácticos, with their array of superstars, were undoubtedly the most formidable lineup in Europe.
Ajax, aware of the daunting task ahead, opted for a 4-3-3 formation. Robont started in goal, with a defensive line comprising Maxwell, Julien Escudé, Johnny Heitinga, and Hatem Trabelsi. Nigel de Jong was tasked with shielding the defense, while Rafael van der Vaart and Wesley Sneijder provided the creative impetus in midfield. The attacking trident featured Steven Pienaar, Zlatan Ibrahimović, and Victor Sikora.
From the outset, it was clear that Real Madrid intended to assert their dominance. The home side launched a relentless offensive, with Figo and Salgado wreaking havoc down the right flank. With Roberto Carlos absent on the left, Madrid's right side became their primary channel of attack.
Ajax, however, had anticipated this. Despite fielding an attacking trident, Pienaar and Sikora frequently dropped deep, effectively becoming auxiliary full-backs. This defensive adjustment frustrated Madrid, who, despite their possession and pressure, struggled to create clear-cut chances.
The first real threat of the match came from Ajax. In a swift counterattack, Ibrahimović controlled a long ball and, with a deft touch, laid it off to Van der Vaart, who had made a late run into the box. The Dutchman unleashed a powerful shot from nine meters out, only for Salgado to heroically throw himself in front of the ball, deflecting it away from goal.
Real Madrid responded immediately. Figo, in a display of his trademark dribbling, danced past two Ajax defenders on the right wing before delivering a precise cross to Ronaldo. The Brazilian, unmarked in the box, seemed certain to score, but his effort cannoned off the right post and out of play, to the disbelief of the Madrid faithful.
Barely a minute later, Zidane found himself in space at the edge of the box. With a quick shimmy to lose De Jong, the French maestro unleashed a vicious right-footed volley. The ball, struck with venom, beat Robont but smacked against the post, the sound echoing through the stadium.
The Bernabéu held its breath as Madrid continued to press, their attacks growing in intensity. But just as the 70,000 fans anticipated a breakthrough, the game took an unexpected turn.
On the left flank, Pienaar combined neatly with Van der Vaart, drawing a rash challenge from Beckham. The England international was shown a yellow card, his second of the tournament, which would rule him out of the return leg in Amsterdam. From the resulting free-kick, Van der Vaart curled a teasing ball into the penalty area. Real Madrid's defense, usually so organized, was caught napping as Heitinga ghosted in unmarked. With a perfectly timed header, he directed the ball past a helpless Casillas and into the net.
0-1!
The Ajax players erupted in celebration, hardly believing what they had just achieved. Heitinga, the unlikely hero, sprinted to the sidelines, pumping his fists in jubilation. His teammates swarmed around him, their faces alight with joy. On the bench, the coaching staff and substitutes celebrated with equal fervor, the realization of what they had done beginning to sink in.
For a brief moment, the Bernabéu fell silent. The shock was palpable—Ajax, the underdogs, had taken the lead against the mighty Real Madrid.
Slowly, the shock turned to frustration among the home fans. Boos began to ripple through the stands, their target unclear. Were they aimed at the visiting team for daring to disrupt the script? Or were they directed at their own players, who had failed to deliver as expected?
The match continued, but the dynamic had shifted. Ajax, buoyed by their unexpected lead, grew in confidence, while Real Madrid, now under pressure, found themselves chasing a game they had expected to control.
...
...
"Wow, incredible! 1-0, we're actually in the lead!"
"We just need to hold onto this score. If we can keep it up, we'll have pulled off something amazing."
"Relax, judging by the first half, Real Madrid's offense isn't as sharp as everyone made it out to be. Their main threat is Figo on the right. As long as we keep him under control, half of their attack is neutralized."
"Ha, we were all so worried about Real Madrid before the game, but it turns out they aren't as fearsome as we thought. If we stick to our game plan, I believe we can even add another goal in the second half."
"Just imagine beating Real Madrid at the Bernabéu... wow, that would be something special."
In the locker room, Yang Yang sat quietly in his spot, methodically sorting through his gear. His teammates' excited chatter filled the room, but he couldn't shake an odd, surreal feeling. Just days before, the entire team—coaches, players, and staff—had been weighed down by the pressure of facing Real Madrid at the Santiago Bernabéu. Everyone feared a humiliating defeat on one of football's grandest stages. But now, after a strong first half and a 1-0 lead, confidence had surged through the squad.
It wasn't hard to understand why. The Galácticos had been in poor form recently, losing three of their last four matches, including back-to-back defeats in the Copa del Rey final and La Liga. Their struggles had given Ajax a golden opportunity, one that they were eager to seize.
However, Yang Yang couldn't help but feel that the team's newfound confidence might be premature. Real Madrid, even in poor form, were still packed with world-class talent. They were like a wounded beast—dangerous and unpredictable. A one-goal lead was something to be proud of, but was it wise to start dreaming of victory already?
Yang Yang leaned over to Zlatan Ibrahimović, who was sitting beside him, and quietly voiced his concerns. The Swedish striker responded with a hearty laugh, clapping a reassuring hand on Yang Yang's shoulder.
"Don't worry, Yang Yang," Ibrahimović said, his voice filled with confidence. "I've battled with those two center-backs, and they're not that strong—especially Mejía. As long as the boys keep getting the ball to me, I'll find the back of the net in the second half."
Ibrahimović's confidence was infectious, and he grinned at Yang Yang. "And this time, you won't need to come off the bench to save us. We'll take this victory away from home and finish the job back in Amsterdam."
Seeing Ibrahimović's assured demeanor, Yang Yang felt it difficult to argue. The team's morale was sky-high after leading Real Madrid at halftime, and everyone was eager to secure a historic win. If he pushed his concerns too much, he risked dampening the spirits of his teammates.
But Yang Yang wasn't alone in his cautious outlook. As the players settled back in, head coach Ronald Koeman entered the locker room, his expression serious. He had noticed the elevated mood among his squad and was quick to address it.
"Listen up," Koeman began, his voice cutting through the excited chatter. "Real Madrid is full of world-class players, and we're playing at the Bernabéu. Even the slightest lapse in concentration, and they'll punish us. We need to be at 120% for the entire second half. I have no doubt that they'll come at us with everything they've got in the next 45 minutes."
The players nodded in agreement, but the excitement on their faces was unmistakable. The first half had gone so smoothly, and Real Madrid had looked far from the unstoppable force they had feared. The players who had entered the Bernabéu hoping to survive with a draw now found themselves daring to believe in a victory.
But was it really going to be that easy?
The question hung in the air as the players prepared to return to the pitch. The match was far from over, and while the dream of victory was tantalizingly close, the second half would demand everything they had—and more.
...
...
As the second half began and the teams switched sides, Real Madrid, just as Ronald Koeman had predicted, came out with renewed vigor and an aggressive attacking mindset.
The boos from the stands persisted, but the superstars on the pitch were clearly more energized than they had been in the first half. Ajax, still trying to find their rhythm after the restart, quickly found themselves under siege by Real Madrid's relentless pressure.
Barely three minutes into the half, Real Madrid's right-back, Michel Salgado, made a surging run forward. After receiving a well-timed pass from Figo, he attempted to break through along the sideline. Pienaar, tracking back to defend, mistimed his challenge and brought Salgado down. The referee promptly showed the South African a yellow card, and Real Madrid was awarded a dangerous free-kick in the attacking third.
David Beckham, ever the set-piece specialist, stepped up to take the free kick. With pinpoint accuracy, he delivered the ball to the far post, where Raul had managed to lose his marker. Raul rose to meet the cross, but his header sailed just over the crossbar, eliciting a collective sigh of relief from the Ajax supporters.
However, Real Madrid kept the pressure on, and moments later, they won a corner. Beckham, again at the helm, whipped the ball into the crowded Ajax penalty area. In the ensuing chaos, the ball ricocheted off several players before landing at the feet of Iván Helguera. The experienced defender showed remarkable composure, striking the ball on the volley. It bounced off the turf and slipped past the outstretched arms of Robont, nestling into the back of the net.
The referee, Ľuboš Micheľ from Slovakia, immediately signaled for the goal, and the Bernabéu erupted in celebration.
Ajax's hard-earned lead from the first half had been wiped out in less than five minutes in this second half. Real Madrid had struck back, and the momentum of the match had shifted dramatically.
...
...
The sudden goal conceded at the start of the second half left the Ajax players in a state of shock. The first 45 minutes had gone so smoothly, almost too smoothly, leading them to believe that they could genuinely contain Real Madrid's star-studded attack and stifle the brilliance of their superstars.
But that early goal in the second half shattered this illusion, plunging Ajax into a deep abyss of uncertainty and panic.
With the score now level, Real Madrid found their rhythm, playing with a fluidity and confidence that had been missing in the first half. Ajax, on the other hand, was forced onto the back foot, their earlier composure crumbling under the relentless pressure.
The Galácticos, now fully in control, orchestrated wave after wave of attacks. Their dominance on the pitch was undeniable, and it wasn't long before their efforts bore fruit once again.
In the 60th minute, Guti threaded a precise pass through a gap in the Ajax defense, finding Zidane who had expertly slipped into the penalty area. The French maestro calmly cut the ball back into the path of Figo, whose powerful shot was brilliantly parried by Robont. But Zidane, always alert, was first to the rebound, and with a swift right-footed strike, he slotted the ball into the back of the net.
2-1. Real Madrid had taken the lead.
Just five minutes later, the situation worsened for Ajax. Guti, deep in his own half, intercepted the ball and launched a stunning 50-meter pass that found Ronaldo in full stride. Despite not being at his peak physical condition, the Brazilian superstar still had the speed and skill to glide past the helpless Ajax defenders. He surged into the penalty area and, with a clinical finish, made it 3-1.
Real Madrid had now firmly seized control of the match, and their lead continued to grow.
With each passing minute, the Spanish giants played with increasing fluidity, while Ajax's game plan unraveled. The Dutch side's players seemed overwhelmed, their confidence eroded by the relentless assault. They appeared dazed, unable to muster any meaningful resistance.
In the 73rd minute, Real Madrid added another to their tally. Salgado, driving down the right flank, played a clever pass back to Zidane. The Frenchman, with his usual elegance, slid the ball to Raúl at the edge of the penalty area. Raúl immediately returned the pass, executing a perfect one-two. Zidane then delivered a pinpoint cross to an unmarked Ronaldo, who coolly slotted the ball home from ten meters out.
4-1. The scoreline now reflected a crushing defeat.
Ajax had been thoroughly outclassed. In less than thirty minutes of the second half, Real Madrid had scored four unanswered goals.
The Galácticos, with their dazzling display of skill and teamwork, had shown the young Ajax side the vast gulf in quality between the two teams. Their stunning offensive play and clinical finishing served as a harsh reminder: a one-goal lead against this Real Madrid side was fleeting and insignificant.
As if to emphasize their superiority, the superstars of Real Madrid made it clear—when they were focused and determined, they could turn a game on its head in a matter of minutes.
Ajax was left reeling, completely defeated, their earlier hopes dashed by the harsh reality of facing one of the greatest teams in European football.
...
...
Yang Yang sat on the bench, his hand covering his mouth in disbelief as he watched the events unfold on the pitch. It was almost impossible to comprehend how his teammates, who had been so full of confidence just moments earlier, were now being dismantled by Real Madrid's superstars in the span of just thirty minutes.
He had seen it with his own eyes—how the Ajax players, who had dared to believe they could hold their own against the Galácticos, were now being utterly outclassed. Real Madrid, once they found their stride, were a force of nature, unstoppable and terrifying. It became painfully clear that Ajax could do little more than watch helplessly as the Spanish giants orchestrated one stunning play after another, their intricate passes and clinical finishes making the game look easy.
This was the reality of facing true superstars.
The coordination on display was mesmerizing, each move filled with creativity and precision. The goals they scored were a testament to their individual brilliance and their ability to work as a cohesive unit. From impossible angles and improbable distances, they found the back of the net again and again, making it seem as though scoring was an effortless task.
If Yang Yang had been an ordinary fan, he might have been cheering for Real Madrid, applauding their artistry on the field. But as an Ajax player, sitting on the bench, watching his team be torn apart, all he could feel was a deep sense of horror—and fear.
Four goals. Four goals scored against Ajax with such ease, and all within less than half an hour.
After securing their lead, the Real Madrid players seemed to believe the game was already won. They slowed their pace, almost returning to the leisurely style they had shown in the first half. They passed the ball around with casual elegance, playing keep-away, as if they were simply toying with Ajax.
As he watched, Yang Yang's thoughts drifted back to his days at the Almere youth training camp. He remembered how his teammates would tease him during training, how they would play rondo, passing the ball around while he was stuck in the middle, desperately trying to intercept it. The laughter from his teammates and the spectators on the sidelines had stung then, just as this situation stung now.
The only difference was that the Real Madrid superstars weren't laughing at their opponents. They didn't need to. The scoreline and the manner in which they were playing were a humiliation in themselves—a silent but resounding mockery.
Yang Yang clenched his fists, his teeth grinding in frustration as he stared out at the pitch. He wasn't convinced that this was the true measure of Ajax's abilities, just as he hadn't been convinced when he was mocked at Almere.
He knew that Ajax's collapse was due in large part to their own mental fragility. The team had been rattled, their confidence shattered, and they had played with an imbalance that had allowed Real Madrid to exploit every weakness. But even with that knowledge, Yang Yang couldn't accept it. He refused to accept that this was all they were capable of.
Despite the mistakes Real Madrid had made throughout the game, and despite their occasionally lax play, they had still managed to score four goals with alarming ease. Now, they led 4-1, and it felt as though the game was out of reach.
But deep inside, Yang Yang's resolve only hardened. He had felt this way before, at Almere, when he was made to feel inferior. And just as he had then, he vowed not to let this defeat define him or his team. There was still a part of him that believed they could fight back, that they could learn from this painful experience and grow stronger.
Because if there was one thing Yang Yang had learned from his past, it was that true strength came not from avoiding failure, but from rising above it.
...
...
Ronald Koeman stood in the coach's technical area, his gaze fixed on the field, a sense of disbelief washing over him. The team that had just been brimming with confidence was now completely dismantled.
Four goals in less than thirty minutes, and in a Champions League quarter-final no less—who else could accomplish that but Real Madrid?
He realized, painfully, that he had made a grave mistake.
Koeman should have recognized the danger earlier. After Real Madrid equalized, he should have acted decisively, making a substitution to disrupt their momentum and reinforce Ajax's defense. But he hadn't. He had hesitated, and that hesitation had allowed Real Madrid to seize control, leading directly to the flood of goals that followed.
Now was not the time for regrets, though. There would be plenty of time to analyze and take responsibility later. Right now, the priority was to stop the bleeding—not just for tonight, but with an eye on the second leg in two weeks.
Ajax's players were still young, and after conceding the equalizer, they had lost their composure. A more experienced team would have tightened up, increased their defensive pressure, and at least slowed Real Madrid's relentless attacks. Instead, they had crumbled, allowing the Galácticos to run rampant and score at will. The game, it seemed, was slipping out of reach.
Koeman glanced back at the bench, studying the reactions of the players. Many of them looked shell-shocked, some even fearful—a response that troubled him deeply. This wasn't the spirit he needed in his squad.
And then he saw Yang Yang.
Unlike the others, Yang Yang's eyes burned with determination. He wasn't defeated. He wasn't afraid. He was ready to fight.
Their eyes met, and Koeman could see it clearly—Yang Yang was eager to play.
"Yang Yang!" Koeman called out, his voice firm. He extended his hand, beckoning the young winger to the sideline.
Yang Yang shot up from his seat, quickly shrugging off his coat as he strode over to the coach. He was ready, every fiber of his being focused on the task ahead.
"Do you need to warm up?" Koeman asked, a final check on his player's readiness.
"No," Yang Yang replied, shaking his head. He was already in the zone.
"Any thoughts on how we can turn this around?" Koeman asked, testing Yang Yang's tactical awareness.
"Their full-backs are pushing too far up," Yang Yang said confidently. "We can exploit the space behind them on the counterattack. And I'm confident I can take them on one-on-one."
Yang Yang had been meticulously observing the game from the sidelines. He noticed that while Real Madrid's front-line superstars rarely tracked back to defend, they were quick to recover possession. Still, as long as Ajax tightened up their defensive lines and pressed harder, there was a real opportunity to exploit gaps on the counter.
Neither of Real Madrid's midfielders were natural defensive players. Guti was more of an attacking midfielder, and Beckham, though a tireless runner with good defensive participation, wasn't a natural ball-winner. Together, they were vulnerable—something Yang Yang had noted and planned to use to Ajax's advantage.
Koeman nodded, impressed. Yang Yang was a sharp thinker, always analyzing the game and looking for weaknesses to exploit. Many attributed Yang Yang's success as a super-sub to Koeman's tactical acumen, but the truth was, much of it came from Yang Yang himself. He treated every game like an exam, with his pre-match preparation as the study session, his observations from the bench as a test, and his performance on the pitch as the final answer. And time and again, he had delivered remarkable results.
Ruud Krol had once described Yang Yang as a genius not only in the classroom but also on the football field. Koeman had no reason to doubt that.
"Alright," Koeman said, placing a hand on Yang Yang's shoulder. "You'll play on the right. Focus on getting the ball to Ibrahimović—he should target Mejía. Tell the team to press higher. Real Madrid's fitness is a weakness we can exploit. If we push them hard enough, they'll start making mistakes."
Koeman knew that Real Madrid's pre-season had been disrupted by their money-making tour in Asia. Their lack of proper preparation and reliance on their star players had left them with little depth and no consistent rotation system. The superstars were running on fumes, and Koeman was counting on that to give Ajax a glimmer of hope.
"Go out there and make something happen," Koeman urged. "I believe in you. Get us a goal and keep our hopes alive."
Yang Yang nodded, determination etched on his face. He turned and jogged onto the pitch, ready to face the challenge head-on.
...
...
In the 78th minute, Yang Yang stepped onto the pitch, replacing Victor Sikora on the right wing. It was the first substitution of the game for either side, signaling Ajax's intent to change the course of the match.
Real Madrid's coach, Carlos Queiroz, quickly recognized Ajax's tactical shift. In response, he substituted Guti for Borja Fernández, a more defensive-minded midfielder, aiming to shore up his team's defense and preserve their commanding lead.
As soon as Yang Yang entered the field, he seized the moment, calling his teammates together. He relayed the tactical adjustments from the coach, urging everyone to tighten up their play and increase the pressure on Real Madrid.
"The boss said we did well in the first half, but we've been too loose in the second," Yang Yang said, his voice clear and resolute. "We need to put more pressure on them. As soon as we win the ball, we counterattack immediately. Both flanks will have chances."
His words were direct, but his gaze fell on Ibrahimović, who looked visibly frustrated and burdened. The Swedish striker had been confident at halftime, assuring Yang Yang that the game was in control and that his services wouldn't be needed. But now, with the scoreline at 1-4, it was Yang Yang who was once again called upon to salvage hope.
Yang Yang met Ibrahimović's eyes, his own filled with determination. "Your job is to be ready at the front," he said firmly. "Trust me—I'll get the ball to you."
Now wasn't the time for blame or regret. The team needed encouragement, and Yang Yang knew that lifting their spirits was as important as any tactical adjustment.
Ibrahimović, known for his self-assuredness, nodded heavily, his frustration giving way to resolve. He gritted his teeth, the fire returning to his eyes. "As long as you pass, I can score," he promised.
Yang Yang gave a final nod, then turned his focus back to the game. There was still time to fight, still time to change the outcome. And with that belief, he set out to make a difference.