CHAPTER 154: DEBUT

Kean took a steadying touch with his right and opened his body to shoot across goal.

"SAVED!"

Baumann read the intention early. He spread himself wide and blocked with his left boot, the ball ricocheting behind for a corner.

"What a stop! Italy’s transitions are razor sharp. Germany are playing with fire every time they lose it in that channel."

As the German defence reset, Rüdiger turned to Adeyemi and gave him a sharp, pointed instruction, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. Adeyemi looked frustrated with himself, nodding quickly in acknowledgment.

Nagelsmann, arms folded on the edge of his technical area, exhaled slowly. He exchanged a brief look with Glück, who murmured something into his ear. Nagelsmann’s eyes went to the bench—straight to Lukas.

"Lukas," he called, tapping two fingers on his palm. "Warm up."

Lukas rose instantly, removed his training top, and began jogging down the touchline. The camera followed him, catching the focused expression on his face as the San Siro whistled around him. The game had shifted. The moment was getting closer.

After that scare, Germany controlled the game for the remaining minutes in the first half. They weren’t pushing too aggressively to avoid another counter attack before half-time. But they also weren’t sitting back either, circulating the ball with confidence even as the stadium booed them.

FWEEE!

"And that is it for the first half. Italy end the first half ahead, a beautiful strike by Tonali in the first 10 minutes of the half. Germany are still very much in the game, but they need more zip in the final third.

We’re off at halftime, Italy 1, Germany nil. We will be back to analyze the plays in the first half after a short break," Derek Rae said as the broadcast changed into a commercial.

"What do you think? Lukas would come on in the second half?" Joanna sked as she stood up to use the bathroom?

"I hope he does. I don’t know if the coach will bring him in while they’re trailing, though. But Adeyemi has been shit so far so I won’t be surprised if there’s a change at halftime. But if Lukas would be the one replacing him, though, I don’t know," João responded as his sister left the room.

Back in Milan, the San Siro roared with approval as the Azzurri jogged off, high fives and glances to the stands showing their satisfaction. In contrast, Germany’s players walked toward the tunnel with tighter expressions. Not defeated — but unsettled. Kimmich kept them together, clapping twice, gesturing for heads up. Musiala patted Adeyemi on the back as they entered the tunnel. Adeyemi didn’t look at anyone.

On the bench, Lukas removed his bib, took a sip of water, and followed the group inside, his mind already ticking through patterns he had observed.

The German dressing room at halftime was quiet at first — just the sound of breathing, water bottles being opened, boots being loosened. No one dared to sit back or relax. Everyone knew the half hadn’t been good enough.

Nagelsmann entered last with his staff. The room straightened. He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to. His voice, calm but pointed, carried more weight than volume.

"We knew Italy would be aggressive in transition," he began, eyes moving from player to player. "We prepared for it. And still, we gave them exactly what they wanted."

He tapped the tactics board lightly, the sound sharp in the room.

"We are losing the ball too cheaply in the wide zones. Especially on the right." His tone wasn’t accusatory — but every player understood who the words were directed at.

Adeyemi stared at the floor.

Nagelsmann continued, still composed. "When we lose it there, we leave ourselves exposed. One pass beats us, and then we are running backwards. That is not how we play. We are better than that."

He shifted the magnets, showing the adjustment.

"We need more control between the lines. More intelligence in when to take players on, and when to secure the ball and recycle. If we keep forcing the dribble, Italy will punish us again."

He turned to the room in full now:

"We stay compact. We move as a unit. And we use the ball with purpose, not impatience. Understand?"

A firm chorus followed. "Yes, Coach."

Nagelsmann’s expression softened just a fraction. "The game is not lost. It is one goal. We keep our heads and we trust our football."

Then he glanced toward Lukas.

"You’re coming on second half," he said simply. No theatrics. No buildup. Just a fact.

Adeyemi inhaled sharply, still not looking up. Lukas gave a short nod, composed.

Nagelsmann added, "For Karim."

That was it. Decision made. The staff began preparing the tactical brief for the substitution.

As Nagelsmann moved on to discuss second-half instructions with the midfield group, Lukas tied his laces tighter. His pulse picked up — not with fear, but with excitement.

His debut was no longer just a possibility.

It was happening.

* * *

As the players walked out of the tunnel for the second half, the San Siro was in full voice.

The cheers for the home team a moment ago had completely vanished, now replaced with boos and jeers as the German team jogged out.

"They just won’t stop, will they?" Rudiger muttered under his breath beside Lukas as he increased his speed jogging onto the pitch.

Lukas, on the other hand, walked to the technical area where Nagelsmann was already standing.

The coach walked up to him. "If you can beat your man, don’t think twice, beat him. If you can’t, find Musiala or Sané."

"Yes, Coach," Lukas responded.

"Don’t think too much, and just play your game," he concluded as the board went up.

"Oh would you look at that," Derek Rae started. "A double change for Germany at half time. Tim Kleindienst on for Jonathan Bukardt. And the 16-year-old Lukas Brandt, on for Karim Adeyemi. This has officially made him — at 16 years and 79 days — the youngest debutant for the German national team, in history."

"Incredible stuff, Derek. It’s just unbelievable what this kid is doing right now. Even crazier when you realize this is his first time playing for any national team both at the youth stages. It’s like he appeared out of nowhere a few months ago and is now one of the most exciting players in the game right now."

"Yes, but will he bring his terrific club form into his country? We will see. The second half is on the way with the Azzurri leading 1-0."

The crowd booed as Lukas came on. They had just learnt of him becoming the youngest German debutant and they felt the kid they were seeing would get easily rattled.

’Not just anyone can make their debut against Italy — IN Milan — and expect to make an impact. Talk more of a 16-year-old kid.

But some were cautious.

Some who had travelled from Rome.

They remembered seeing him at the Stadio Olympico a couple months ago. And although Roma won that match, and Lukas was subbed off injured, his ability to create something out of nothing was something they had experienced first hand before.

He took his position on the left, replacing Adeyemi. Kleindienst also joined the front line, slotting in for Burkardt. Musiala offered Lukas a quick fist bump. Kimmich whispered a short instruction. Sané gave a sly grin, as if silently saying, Show them why you’re here.

The whistle blew — Italy got the half underway.

From the first touch, Germany pressed like a side that refused to let the match drift. Sané chased down Calafiori, forcing the pass backward. Kleindienst shut down the angle to Donnarumma. Musiala pressed Rovella tightly. The message was clear: Germany weren’t waiting for the game to come to them.

The press worked. Italy hesitated. A sloppy pass from Udogie to Raspadori gave Sané his chance. He pounced, intercepting the pass clean near the right touchline.

"Germany with a fast start! Look at that pressure! Sané wins possession for the away side."

Udogie sprinted towards Sané to close him down, trying to prevent the cut inside. Sané saw him coming, disguised his body shape, and instead threaded a clever reverse pass down the line to Kimmich, who had burst forward from right-back on the overlap.

Kimmich didn’t break stride. Without taking a touch to settle, he clipped a curling first-time cross toward the back post.

"Ohhh that’s a brilliant delivery from Kimmich! Can someone get on the end of it..?"

Kleindienst rose to meet it, climbing above Bastoni. He got a brush of his hair to it, but not enough. Even Donnarumma, who rose to punch the ball, missed by a tiny margin. The ball continued its flight, gliding toward the far post. For a split second, it looked as though it would drift harmlessly wide.

Calafiori was the last Italian player the ball flew above, and he could have headed it out for a corner, but he assumed there was no one behind him, so he allowed the ball drift out for a goalkick.

"UOMO!!!" The fans behind the goal screamed at their team’s defender.

But by the time the Arsenal man turned around to see who the crowd was warning him about, it was too late.