The Dortmund Airport arrivals hall had never seen anything quite like it. As the automatic doors slid open and the Borussia Dortmund squad emerged from their China tour, they were greeted by a wall of sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building.
Hundreds of supporters had gathered despite the late hour, their voices united in songs that had echoed through the Westfalenstadion for generations. Yellow and black scarves waved like a sea of belonging, cameras flashed in rapid succession, and the energy was electric with genuine football passion.
At the center of the attention, though he tried his best to remain inconspicuous, was Mateo. The sixteen-year-old who had left Germany as a promising prospect had returned as the talk of international football.
His five assists in three matches had generated millions of social media interactions, his jersey had become the most popular purchase in the club's online store, and his name was being mentioned alongside some of the game's brightest young talents.
"Ma-te-o! Ma-te-o! Ma-te-o!" The chant began with a small group of teenage supporters and quickly spread through the crowd like wildfire. But what struck Mateo most was the respectful nature of the attention.
These weren't fans seeking autographs or selfies; they were supporters expressing genuine appreciation for what he had accomplished while representing their club.
As the team made their way through the crowd toward the waiting buses, Mateo felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Klaus, the elderly café regular who had become part of his daily routine, beaming with pride.
"The whole city has been talking about you," Klaus said through sign language, his skills now fluent enough for complex conversations. "But we always knew you were special. Welcome home, son."
The simple gesture of recognition from someone who had watched his daily journey to school, who had seen him as a person rather than just a player, meant more to Mateo than all the media coverage combined.
This was what made Dortmund different: the genuine connection between the club and its community, the understanding that football was about more than just results and statistics.
The bus journey through the city revealed the extent of the excitement surrounding the team's return. Despite the late hour, supporters lined the streets, holding banners and singing songs.
The local media had been covering the tour extensively, with particular focus on the young Spaniard who had captured the imagination of football fans across Asia and Europe.
"Look at this," Aubameyang said, showing his phone to the players around him. "The video of your assist to Lewandowski has been viewed twelve million times. Twelve million! You're becoming a global phenomenon."
But it was Marco Reus who provided the perspective that mattered most.
"The attention is nice," he said quietly, his voice carrying the wisdom of someone who had experienced both the highs and lows of professional football. "But remember what got you here: the work, the dedication, the team-first mentality. That's what will keep you here."
The return to the academy dormitory felt surreal after the whirlwind of international attention. Lukas was waiting in their shared room, his face lighting up as Mateo entered. Despite the vast difference in their professional status, their friendship had only deepened through shared commitment to improvement and mutual respect for each other's dedication.
"The whole academy has been watching your matches," Lukas signed excitedly. "Coach Weber has been using your assists as teaching examples in our tactical sessions. You've become a legend here, and you haven't even started the real season yet."
The next morning brought a return to routine that felt both familiar and strange. The bike ride to Heinrich-Böll-Gymnasium that had once been anonymous was now punctuated by waves and shouts of encouragement from passersby.
Students and teachers at school treated him with a mixture of pride and respect, understanding that they were witnessing something special while maintaining the supportive environment that had helped him develop.
Emma, his classmate who had become a genuine friend, provided the kind of grounded perspective he needed. "You're still the same person who helps me with my mathematics homework," she said with a smile during their lunch break. "Don't let all this attention change that."
But it was the call to report to the Brackel Training Centre that afternoon that truly marked his return to professional reality. The DFL Supercup was just five days away, and the preparation would be unlike anything he had experienced.
This wasn't just another match; it was the traditional season opener between the Bundesliga champions and the DFB-Pokal winners, a showcase event that would be watched by millions around the world.
More importantly, it would be his first competitive match against Bayern Munich, the club that represented everything Dortmund stood against in German football.
Where Dortmund emphasized community, development, and authentic passion, Bayern represented commercial dominance, financial power, and institutional arrogance. The rivalry went beyond football, it was a clash of philosophies that defined modern German sport.
The tactical meeting that afternoon was unlike any Mateo had attended. Klopp's usual animated energy was replaced by a focused intensity that made every word feel significant. The coaching staff had prepared a detailed analysis of Bayern's preseason performances, their tactical adjustments under Pep Guardiola, and the specific challenges they would present.
"Gentlemen," Klopp began, his eyes scanning the room to ensure he had everyone's complete attention, "this match is about more than silverware. It's about proving that our way the Dortmund way, can compete with anyone in the world. Bayern thinks they can buy success, but we know that success is earned through dedication, intelligence, and collective commitment."
The tactical discussion that followed was fascinating in its complexity. Guardiola's Bayern played a possession-heavy system that sought to control games through patient build-up and positional superiority. Their passing patterns were intricate and rehearsed, designed to draw opponents out of position before exploiting the spaces created.
"They want to make us chase the ball," explained Željko Buvač, Klopp's assistant coach. "They want us to become frustrated, to lose our shape, to make the kind of mistakes that allow their technical players to punish us. Our job is to remain disciplined while creating the high-intensity moments where our system is superior to theirs."
It was at this point that Klopp turned to Mateo, his expression serious but encouraging. "You've worked with Guardiola before, haven't you? At Barcelona's academy?"