In the second half, referee Tom Henning Øvrebø seemed to have normalized, with his officiating becoming relatively fair. Furthermore, after Barcelona was taught a lesson by Jin Hayes, their morale visibly dropped, and their passing and ball possession were nowhere near as fluid as in the first leg. As a result, Borussia Dortmund did not feel too much pressure, only needing to neutralize Lionel Messi.
"Could today really be our chance?" Borussia Dortmund supporters couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. Could it be—today?
Jürgen Klopp's substitutions at halftime had a miraculous effect. CCTV pundit Xu Yang noticed this issue: "Now, the picture is very clear. Borussia Dortmund's defense will shift from a 4-3-3 to a 4-4-2. Jin Hayes seemingly moves up to play as a centre-forward, while the substitute defensive midfielder, Florian Kringe, strengthens the defense in the back and primarily restricts Messi's play. During counter-attacks, Nuri Şahin moves to the attacking midfielder position to participate in offence, with Jin Hayes, Marco Reus, and Jakub Błaszczykowski forming a trident to create threats…"
"Uh, wait, wait?"
Xu Yang was interrupted by Duan Xuan before he could finish. Just as analyzed, Barcelona's attack was intercepted by Borussia Dortmund. Substitute Florian Kringe played a crucial role. Xavi, in the attacking third, intended to combine with Messi, attempting a lobbed pass to catch the opponent off guard. Kringe had been repeatedly reminded by Klopp to always keep an eye on the connection between Xavi and Messi.
The moment Xavi passed, Kringe anticipated and moved in front to defend, intercepting the ball with his chest before Messi could receive it.
He quickly tapped the ball to Şahin. Şahin, with an ingenious backheel flick, tapped the ball to Sebastian Kehl before Xavi could press. Kehl made a one-touch pass, a through ball, and Şahin, after making a forward run to receive it, made another one-touch pass to the attacking third. Borussia Dortmund's long-practiced combination finally showed its power. Barcelona's tight high press was broken through.
"Damn it—it's here after all!"
The moment Jin Hayes received the ball, a sudden wave of fatigue washed over him.
Side effects? Damn it.
His Speed and Strength Talents were not working well; only a certain level of ball control remained for now.
Seydou Keita was afraid. The moment Jin Hayes took the ball, his nerves tensed. He stayed deep, not daring to press even an inch, planning to retreat with the ball, waiting for Jin Hayes to use his fancy dribbling to get past him. To his surprise, Jin Hayes received the ball, turned to face the goal, and felt no defensive pressure whatsoever. He could even adjust his steps and, with the most comfortable movement, make a through pass to Reus, who was advancing on the left.
"Que?"
What the hell?
Keita was fully prepared to be beaten, and this is what he got? He stood stunned for a full second. Jin Hayes had already passed him before Keita finally turned back to defend.
"Reus!! Great play, Jin Hayes chose to go directly behind! He saw the space ahead of Reus!"
Dani Alves had pushed too far up in attack and couldn't get back in time. Reus could calmly dribble into the box, where he was stopped by Carles Puyol at the edge of the penalty area. Alves and Yaya Touré were both closing in to surround Reus. Drawing three defenders, Reus deliberately changed direction to fake out Puyol, took another step into the box, pretending to force a breakthrough. As the defenders sprinted towards the byline to intercept, Reus suddenly slammed on the brakes, shaking off two players.
"Beautiful!!! Reus—"
Everyone knew Jin Hayes was good at dribbling, but they overlooked Reus's footwork. He was also a dribbling threat in the Bundesliga. However, Jin Hayes was so dazzling that Reus's star power seemed less brilliant. But anyone who dared to underestimate Reus would pay the price.
Having faked out Puyol and Alves, Reus continued to cut inside with the ball. Fortunately, Yaya Touré arrived in time to block Reus's path. Keita also felt the pressure of the penalty area and had no choice but to rush forward to help.
"Hey!"
The blond youth Reus grinned, half-turned, and made a horizontal pass to the onrushing Jin Hayes. Gerard Piqué rushed forward in a panic to confront Jin Hayes, fearing that this guy would again attempt some exaggerated dribbling move.
Sorry, I'm not dribbling this time!
Jin Hayes knew his limits very well. His teammates were in better positions, so why hog the limelight?
Błaszczykowski! On the right, Błaszczykowski had already silently positioned himself, making a forward run into the right channel. Jin Hayes feigned a breakthrough to the left, letting Piqué experience a sense of panic, of being overly suspicious, then suddenly backheeled the ball and turned, making a through pass to the right channel.
"Checkmate!"
All the Dortmund fans in the away stands, the crowds glued to screens in German bars, and countless eyes in front of televisions in thousands of homes—at this moment, all erupted with a glimmer of hope. Could it be that if Błaszczykowski scored this goal, Borussia Dortmund would lead Barcelona 2-1 away, and they would be one step closer to the Champions League final.
"Błaszczykowski!!!"
All efforts for one decisive blow. Błaszczykowski had never felt such intense determination. His teammates had entrusted him with this heavy responsibility, and he would absolutely not let them down.
With Éric Abidal pressing tightly beside him, Błaszczykowski still prepared himself fully. He received the ball, feigned a shot, then pulled it back to fake out Abidal, aimed for the top corner of the goal, lifted his leg, and shot.
Bang—this shot! He must—
… Hmm? Wait, wait!
The moment he faked out Abidal and shot, the veteran realized something was wrong. It was too late for him to turn and intercept. His right hand, which was trailing behind, instinctively opened up, and like blocking a pass in basketball, he blocked Błaszczykowski's shot.
"Ah!! Hand ball! Hand ball!!!"
Błaszczykowski immediately jumped up and raised his hand, signalling to the referee. A clear handball in the box; as long as the eyes weren't blind, this would definitely be a penalty. Although the shot didn't go in, by winning a penalty for the team, Błaszczykowski was still a great hero.
"Handball!!"
"Handball!!"
All the fans in the away stands also cheered, shouting "Handball" in unison to pressure the referee. The Borussia Dortmund players on the field also showed joyful expressions, rushing forward one after another to signal the foul to the referee.
German Sport1 commentator Berenberg even popped the champagne early: "Handball! No doubt! One hundred percent handball! If this penalty is converted, Borussia Dortmund will have the advantage, with one foot in the Champions League final! Hahahaha, well done, lads! Błaszczykowski this time—hmm? What?"
Berenberg hadn't finished speaking, the smile on his face still lingering, when it suddenly froze. He clearly saw that the bald referee Øvrebø showed no reaction whatsoever. He didn't even blow his whistle. Just now, the ball was blocked by Abidal's arm, and when Piqué arrived, he kicked the ball out of bounds. Referee Øvrebø merely awarded a throw-in.
"No, this is absolutely wrong. There's no angle for a misjudgment. 100 referees would call this a handball!"
The Borussia Dortmund players on the field were also stunned, frantically rushing towards referee Tom Henning Øvrebø to demand an explanation.
"Referee? He handled the ball, deliberately extending his arm, it wasn't ball to hand!"
"You saw it, referee! He handled the ball, look at his hand if you don't believe me!"
"So many people saw it with their own eyes, referee!"
Borussia Dortmund's encirclement had no effect; instead, it gave Øvrebø a reason.
"You are obstructing the referee's normal enforcement! Get out of here!"
"You f***ing…"
"What did you say?"
Øvrebø glared at the insolent Jakub Błaszczykowski and immediately pulled out a yellow card.
"I'm so f***ing mad!" Mats Hummels was furious, just about to unleash a German expletive, but Neven Subotić, with quick eyes and hands, pulled him away. He already had a yellow card; he absolutely couldn't get into trouble.
Given Øvrebø's officiating standards today, Hummels could be sent off at any moment.
Captain Sebastian Kehl had even lost his usual composure, sarcastically applauding Øvrebø with a sneer. Fortunately, the referee didn't notice this gesture, otherwise Kehl would also have been sent off with a second yellow card.
"It's here, as expected."
Jin Hayes was not surprised by this. He had thought Øvrebø would behave himself and not go too far. Now it seems Jin Hayes had underestimated this referee's bottom line. When Barcelona had the advantage, he could officiate normally, but when Barcelona was at a slight disadvantage, Øvrebø wished he could send all of Borussia Dortmund off. Jin Hayes saw it very clearly; he was right next to the referee.
When Błaszczykowski's shot was blocked by Éric Abidal's handball, Øvrebø's line of sight was completely unobstructed, no more than 20 metres away, so he could definitely see it clearly!
"I didn't see any so-called handball! I suggest you play seriously and don't try these dirty tricks! Otherwise, I won't hesitate to pull out a card!"
Øvrebø even turned the tables, threatening the Borussia Dortmund players. It seems the "Stamford Bridge disaster" has now become the "Camp Nou disaster."
"Fuck it!! Are your f***ing eyes all blind? Answer me! Is there any normal referee on this field?!"
Jürgen Klopp on the sidelines could no longer sit still, a raging fire burning in his chest as he stormed towards the fourth official.
"Oh no!!" Assistant coach Željko Buvač, caught off guard, couldn't stop him. Klopp had completely lost his composure. His heart sank. Sure enough, the fourth official this time offered no retaliation, only called the on-field referee via intercom. "I have a situation here, come over."
Øvrebø temporarily stopped the game, rushed to the sideline, and after a brief understanding of the situation, pulled out a blood-red card from his back pocket.
"It's over."
Jin Hayes felt a pang of sadness seeing this scene. Borussia Dortmund had finally organized a counter-attack, finally getting a chance to take the lead. And it was completely messed up by Øvrebø again.
Were they really going to be eliminated by Barcelona today? Could he still not escape his fate?
Jin Hayes clenched his fists tightly, his bones audibly creaking.
"Oh no!! Jürgen Klopp!!"
"Borussia Dortmund's coach has been sent to the stands? Today's match is truly too surprising!" German commentator Berenberg felt a dizzy spell. "We thought it would be a high-level contest, but it's been ruined by the referee again. Today's match has completely turned into a farce."
"It's really a bit laughable."
German fans in front of their televisions were even too tired to be angry at this point. There was only a deep sense of powerlessness. Even if they were defeated 4-0 by Barcelona, if Borussia Dortmund lost because they were inferior, it wouldn't matter. They clearly had a chance to win. They clearly had a chance…
Coach Klopp sneered twice, took off his baseball cap, threw it on the ground, and turned to walk into the dressing room. A sent-off coach would be accompanied to the stands by UEFA officials to prevent him from directing the team through other means.
Assistant coach Buvač could only take over for Klopp. He managed to remain calm and, seeing the players on the field, quickly waved Jin Hayes over. Captain Kehl had become emotional, but only Jin Hayes still seemed rational enough.
"Jin, you need to first calm your teammates. We still have a chance, don't do anything foolish."
"Don't worry, coach, I will try my best to help the team win."
"That's good—tell them to solidify the defence, don't get hot-headed, don't lose your positions, and defend as you should. According to Jürgen's counter-attacking strategy set at halftime, all decisions are entirely up to you. Jin…"
Buvač looked sincerely into Jin Hayes's eyes, "It doesn't matter if we lose today, you've already performed perfectly enough."
"No." Jin Hayes shook his head. "We will win, definitely."
Jin Hayes said this almost through gritted teeth. His maturity deeply moved Buvač. The post-match focus would inevitably be on the referee, and if they lost, the entire team would not be blamed. Jin Hayes, even more so, wouldn't be blamed; he would be the object of fan support. He could have given up—a 16-year-old player shouldn't have to bear so much—yet Jin Hayes actively chose to carry the team. Buvač was truly touched from the bottom of his heart. Giving Jin Hayes a chance in the first team back then, it wasn't Jin Hayes who was lucky, but Borussia Dortmund.
No matter how much resentment was in his chest, no matter how accurately the prophetic dream reflected reality, Jin Hayes saw no hope of winning. But the game wasn't over yet, and Jin Hayes still had to find a way to help the team win. He was still in a weakened state, with decreased strength and speed, though his ball control was temporarily maintained. It would be extremely difficult to break through the blockade of Seydou Keita, Yaya Touré, Gerard Piqué, and Carles Puyol by himself. He had to involve his teammates to find a 1% possibility out of a 0% win rate.
"What should I do? Pass the ball?"
The only way to break Barcelona's high press and launch a perfect counter-attack was through a sublime pass that surpassed the passing masters like Xavi, Andrés Iniesta, Andrea Pirlo, and Xabi Alonso. A decisive, fatal through ball. He couldn't use his enhanced passing ability temporarily. With his ordinary passing skills, could he really make such a pass? He really wanted to improve his passing. If only—
"But at what cost?"
It's here. At a moment of life and death, at a moment of extreme desire to become stronger, the familiar feeling—it's here. The familiar sensation surged through him, a presence that had visited him at the brink of defeat before. He could sense the shift, the unlocking of something new, something that might just be the key to turning this disaster into a miracle. The referee's injustice had pushed him to the edge, and now, in the depths of that desperation, a new power was awakening. Jin Hayes steadied his breathing, his eyes fixed on the Barcelona goal.
This was his moment. He would not let it slip away.