BVB (1 - 0) VFB – 9th Minute
Dortmund were back on the counter after Stuttgart lost possession in midfield. The ball was passed to Timo, who exploded forward with pace and power, heading straight at the defenders.
He took control and charged down the middle. Stuttgart had cut off his passing lanes—both fullbacks locked down the wings. But Timo didn't care. He wasn't looking to pass. He only had the goal in mind.
As he neared the box, his next touch made it clear—he was gonna shoot. The center-back saw it and dove in to block, but Timo breezed past the tackle, powering through. The ref signaled advantage for the foul—but Timo didn't stop.
Now he was one-on-one with the last defender and the keeper behind him. No hesitation.
He fired low, the ball skimming just above the grass toward the bottom-right corner.
It didn't even look clean—but somehow, it went in.
Goal.
No celebration this time. Timo turned and jogged back like it was just another day.
Stuttgart's players dropped their heads.
BVB (2 - 0) VFB – 10th Minute
Scorer: Timo Ransmayr | Assist: Hamzath Mohamadou
On his way back, Timo whispered to himself: "Fun. I hate players who treat football like a joke."
Dortmund's coach nodded with a quiet smile. "He's locked in today."
Two Years Ago – Vienna, Austria
14-year-old Timo walked in from school, kicked off his shoes, and joined his mom in the kitchen while she cooked.
"Ma, can you get me new football boots?"
"No, baby—I just bought your school clothes. And I still have to get stuff for your siblings."
Right on cue, Timo's younger siblings started running through the kitchen, getting in the way.
"Hey! I told you to stop that!" his mom snapped, still stirring the pot.
"Ma said stop!" Timo shouted, trying to help.
She sighed. "I'm working night shift today, so you'll need to dish up dinner for them later, alright?"
"Got it."
Timo watched her juggle everything. One of the little ones started crying—she picked them up, comforted them, then realized the pot was burning. She dashed back into the kitchen.
"Damn it—I'm gonna be late."
"I got it, Ma. Just go get ready."
"You sure?"
"Trust me. I've got it."
She kissed his forehead and rushed off.
While Timo was handling the pot, someone knocked on the door. A man in a robe stood there.
"Where's your mother?"
"Getting ready in her room. She'll be out in a minute."
"Tell her I need to see her before she leaves."
Later, Timo watched through the window as his mom stepped outside and spoke with the man. She looked frustrated, pleading.
Outside, the neighborhood was beat-up. Potholes filled with water. A corner group smoked cigarettes, leaning against a graffiti-tagged wall. It was loud and messy and run down.
Timo stared at it all.
"I'll get us out of here, Ma. Even if it kills me."
She got home early next morning, before sunrise. The house was spotless. Dishes done. Floor clean. Quiet.
She smiled. "Timo, you didn't have to."
She spotted a note on the table. "I love you, Ma." She read it, pressed it to her chest, and teared up.
A few hours later, Timo woke up to find something resting at his feet.
A shoebox.
Note taped to the lid: "Ma loves you too."
Inside—football boots.
He collapsed onto the floor, speechless. Then bolted to her room and jumped on her bed.
"Thank you, Ma! Thank you so much!"
"What? What's happening?" She pulled the blankets over her head.
"The boots! I love them!" He kissed them like they were gold.
"Oh, it's nothing. I got them cheap. And take care of them, alright? You're not getting another pair any time soon."
"Yes ma'am!" Still staring at them, he kissed them again.
"But what about Sven and the others?"
**"Don't worry about that. You just take care of those shoes."
The boots weren't new. But to him—they were perfect.
Nine Months Ago – High School Tournament
Timo was stuck playing right back. His team was down 4–0. He looked frustrated, stiff, and totally off his game.
In the stands, Dortmund's youth scout sat next to U17 head coach Sebastian Geppert.
"There's nothing here. Should we bounce?"
"Hang on. Let me try something."
At halftime, Sebastian walked down to speak with Timo's coach. They had a quick word, and the coach agreed.
Back in the stands:
"What was that?"
"I asked him to switch one player's position."
"Mid-game? That's pretty random."
"He's losing already—nothing to lose, right?" Sebastian smiled.
Second half kicked off. Timo, who was at right back... now up front as a striker.
The game flipped.
Four goals down, his team came back to win it 5–4. Timo scored all five.
The scout sat speechless. Sebastian raised his brow—but kept calm.
"That went... a lot better than I expected." Sebastian utters.
"We found our guy."
Sebastian smiled.