August 12th, 8:00 a.m. Four days remained until Liverpool's first Premier League opener.
Krawietz escorted Leo Lin—Klopp had personally requested to see him alone.
The youth academy wasn't far from the first-team headquarters.
"What's going on with that hairstyle?"
"I've got some gel right here. Spray a bit more and set it."
"When you see Klopp, speak slowly. Remember to keep a low profile—you're still young."
Krawietz nagged him nonstop along the way, terrified Leo Lin might say something wrong in front of Klopp.
About ten minutes later, they arrived at headquarters. Security waved them through.
Krawietz dragged Leo Lin through a maze of corridors, found the staff building, and headed straight to the third floor.
They exited the elevator, turned left, and walked directly to the head coach's office.
Just as Krawietz was about to knock and add one last reminder, the door opened—Klopp was stepping out to use the restroom.
They bumped straight into each other.
Klopp looked at Leo Lin, the atmosphere suddenly turning a little awkward, and spoke first.
"You must be Leo Lin."
Leo Lin nodded.
"Yo."
Krawietz's face instantly turned green.
The little devil in his head was screaming.
'What kind of greeting is that?!'
'He's the head coach!'
'At least show some respect—bow a little!'
Leo Lin calmly extended his hand and shook Klopp's, neither arrogant nor submissive.
No pride, no self-importance, but no inferiority either—just the composure an eighteen-year-old should have.
Before meeting him, Klopp had wondered what kind of person Leo Lin was. After this brief encounter, he was already certain: at least in terms of character, Leo Lin was exactly the type of player he wanted.
If Leo Lin had bowed and scraped, or acted overly humble, it would have shattered the impression Klopp had already formed.
After a few short exchanges, Klopp sent Krawietz away—despite Krawietz clearly hoping to stay for a meal.
"Coffee?"
Klopp lifted the cup in his hand.
Leo Lin stood up to prepare it, and the two finally got down to business.
"Do you know why I wanted to see you?"
Leo Lin nodded. "Because of my video."
Klopp smiled.
"Your performance was impressive. You've improved very quickly."
"A lot of youth coaches have praised you—your discipline, and a maturity that's rare at your age."
Leo Lin was just about to be modest when Klopp continued.
"So, with everyone speaking so highly of you, how do you see the competition to step into the first team and fight for a spot?"
"I'll show the level that matches it," Leo Lin replied.
"And I trust you'll give me the opportunity."
"And I can guarantee one thing—if you give me that chance, you won't be able to stop yourself from giving me another."
Klopp's appreciation for Leo Lin grew even stronger.
A footballer needs personality. Without it, he's nothing more than a pushover on the pitch.
"Simply put, I'll give you the chance to train with the first team."
"If you perform well, you may even get some league minutes."
"Whether you stay with the first team or go back to the academy on a youth contract—that choice is in your hands."
Klopp was a master at igniting a young player's ambition.
"Lin,"
"the first team needs a midfielder."
"If you become the player I want, I guarantee your life will change dramatically."
"In a single week, you'll earn what most people can't make in five—maybe even ten—years."
"You'll be driving a Rolls-Royce or a Ferrari, with women lining up from Liverpool all the way to Manchester."
"You'll eat perfectly grilled steaks, drink milk tea that costs hundreds of pounds a cup, and wear clothes worth tens of thousands."
"Wherever you go, people will stand up to greet you, call out your name first, desperate to build some kind of connection."
"But more importantly—"
Klopp's tone shifted, his eyes locking onto Leo Lin.
"You'll stand at Anfield, the most intimidating stadium in Europe, surrounded by the roar of tens of thousands of fans."
"Holding a mascot's hand, walking through the tunnel, stepping onto the pitch under thunderous applause that represents glory."
"And then you'll show the world your own footballing talent. Everyone will shout your name, screaming for you."
"That is the charm of football."
Leo Lin felt the fire inside him surge uncontrollably. He wanted nothing more than to step onto a Premier League pitch right now.
He stood and looked at Klopp.
"Just tell me where the training ground is."
Klopp smiled.
...
Life with the first team felt unreal—better facilities, a more luxurious cafeteria, and attentive support.
Here, your only job was to play football.
And then there was the feeling of seeing Henderson, Salah, Mané, Firmino—some of the biggest stars in world football—smiling and greeting you, then training alongside you. It was intoxicating.
That afternoon, the academy players headed to the first-team training ground.
Leo Lin arrived an hour early, thinking he'd be the first one there. Instead, Firmino was already practicing his shooting.
When he saw Leo Lin, he waved excitedly.
Players arrived one after another.
The big scrimmage was about to begin.
Klopp stood at the front, with Krawietz to his left.
Even during simple warm-ups, the pace of the first-team players was noticeably faster than that of most academy players.
The scrimmage was eleven versus eleven. First-team players and academy players were mixed and reshuffled, allowing the seniors to be evaluated while giving the youngsters a taste of first-team intensity—crucial for their growth.
Leo Lin was placed on the same side as Firmino.
Opposite them were Salah, Wijnaldum, Gomez, and Mignolet. No matter how you looked at it, the other side had more regular starters.
On Leo Lin's side, aside from Firmino, there was also Milner. The rest were academy players or first-teamers who barely got minutes.
Klopp had arranged it this way on purpose—to see whether Leo Lin truly had the pressure resistance shown in his videos.
He personally oversaw the match, clipboard in hand, recording performance data in real time.
Wijnaldum was full of confidence.
Going up against a young player—letting him feel some real physical contact as a senior didn't seem unreasonable at all.
Once play began, Wijnaldum immediately went in hard, pressing aggressively.
After Firmino kicked off, Leo Lin received the ball and passed it back to Ocho.
Ocho was on Leo Lin's team, playing center back.
But he was clearly nervous. After receiving the back pass, his eyes looked unfocused.
Under the high press, he instinctively tried to clear it long—only to misjudge the power. The ball traveled just a few meters.
Wijnaldum surged forward. If he could intercept it, they'd be straight into a counterattack.
The more he thought about it, the faster he charged.
Like a starving tiger pouncing on its prey, he rushed toward the first bounce.
He was about to get there.
Suddenly—
A dark figure slammed into him from the side like a boulder, forcibly knocking him away!
It was Leo Lin.
Wijnaldum's pride took a hit, and he desperately tried to win it back.
But Leo Lin's solid build and sheer strength locked the ball in place, shielding it like stone.
No matter how hard Wijnaldum fought, he couldn't get a touch.
For a moment, the entire pitch froze.
Firmino, standing closest, was completely stunned.
"Is this for real?"
"He's physically overpowering Wijnaldum?"
"He's just… straight-up overpowering him!"
...
(60 Chapters Ahead)
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