"Ajax are making a substitution," the commentator announced, a note of intrigue creeping into his voice. "Ronald Koeman is taking off number 10, Steven Pienaar, and bringing on number 5, Ron Vlaar."
There was a brief pause, as the weight of the decision settled.
"This is a conservative switch — no doubt about it. Pienaar has been operating as the team's left winger. And now, with Ajax trailing by two goals here at the San Siro, Koeman is replacing a winger with a centre-back. This doesn't exactly signal urgency. But the final shape could reveal something more complex. Let's see how Ajax reorganizes."
On the pitch, Yang Yang's brow furrowed as he turned toward the sideline and spotted the number board. Even he wasn't expecting this.
Down 3–1, and taking off a winger for a central defender?
He glanced over and saw Ron Vlaar already tugging his shirt over his head, stepping toward the touchline.
Aerial duels — that was Vlaar's domain. Strong in the air, uncompromising in physical battles, and calm under pressure. A clear move to bolster the back line, especially against Gilardino, who had been a constant threat inside the box, particularly with his headers.
But sacrificing Pienaar?
Before Yang Yang could dwell on it, Koeman was already waving toward the pitch.
"Yang! Wesley!"
As the ball rolled out near the halfway line, the Ajax captain and the team's playmaker jogged toward the bench. Koeman's expression was calm but firm, his voice direct.
"We're switching to a 5–3–1–1," he said without preamble, eyes flicking between them. "Vlaar will play in the centre of a back three. He marks Gilardino. Heitinga and Vermaelen will be on either side — they have license to step up or cover wide if needed."
Sneijder nodded quickly, already reconstructing the system in his mind.
"Maicon and Maxwell are now your fullbacks — but not traditional ones. I want them pushing high when we're in possession. They'll be critical in stretching Milan's shape. Maicon especially — pin Seedorf back. Make him think twice about venturing forward."
Yang Yang tilted his head, parsing the instructions.
So: three centre-backs anchoring the defence, wing-backs pushing up aggressively, and in front of them, De Jong screening. Then Sneijder and Yaya Touré given more attacking license — with Yang Yang floating freely just behind Charisteas.
Koeman continued, "De Jong will anchor and form a triangle with the two outer centre-backs when we're under pressure. He'll drop deep as needed. That gives Wesley and Yaya the green light to support the attack."
Then, finally, he turned to them both — his tone sharpening.
"We're giving you the width," he said. "Use it. Drift wide, pull them apart. Make Pirlo and Gattuso chase shadows. Force mismatches."
A hand on each shoulder — reassurance and challenge all at once.
"Go break their rhythm. Go make them sweat."
...
...
This was, unquestionably, a conservative substitution.
But Ajax didn't fold.
Once Yang Yang and Sneijder relayed Koeman's instructions, the tactical shift became increasingly clear. The system now had a different pulse, and slowly, the team began to respond with discipline and renewed focus.
Yang Yang, no longer anchored to the right flank, began to roam with intent across the entire attacking third. He moved laterally, ghosted into half-spaces, and sought out pockets between the lines. He was now Ajax's free agent of chaos — wherever a weakness emerged, he was there.
Ahead of him stood Charisteas, the muscular Greek striker holding the line as the lone target man. Though not the most clinical finisher, his physicality posed a real problem for Milan's centre-backs — especially Kaladze, who seemed increasingly rattled in aerial duels and back-to-goal scenarios.
With Ron Vlaar slotted into central defence, Ajax now had a back three, which freed both full-backs to push higher. Maicon on the right was especially aggressive, testing the space behind Seedorf and forcing Milan to retreat into a more reactive shape. Maxwell, too, began venturing forward with more confidence, giving Ajax better width and balance.
In midfield, Sneijder became more mobile, popping up between Milan's lines and drifting into the left channel, while Yaya Touré surged with increasing purpose from deeper positions. Their activity mirrored a broader truth: Milan were beginning to fade.
This wasn't new.
AC Milan had a habit — sharp in the opening hour, dominant in possession and positioning, only to ease off when protecting a lead. The tempo dropped. The urgency waned. Their lines stretched. It was a familiar vulnerability, and Ajax — still burning with fight — were determined to exploit it.
By the 73rd minute, their moment arrived.
It started on the right with Maicon. The Brazilian full-back picked up the ball near the halfway line and drove forward with determination, skipping past the initial challenge and entering Milan's final third. Yang Yang, sensing the opportunity, drifted wide to pull Serginho out of position — it was a decoy, a rehearsed move between the two.
Pirlo stepped up to block Maicon's lane. Ajax's right-back quickly slipped the ball to Yang Yang near the touchline.
Yang Yang's first touch was crisp. Serginho closed in, wary and cautious, shadowing him tightly. Maicon, meanwhile, continued his run.
Yang Yang returned the ball with a perfectly weighted pass into space.
Serginho paused — just half a second — caught between tracking Maicon or sticking with Yang Yang. That hesitation proved fatal.
Yang Yang was already accelerating again. He darted inside, sprinted down the right flank, and reached the byline just as Maicon's return pass curled neatly into his stride.
Now it was a footrace — and Serginho, 34 years old and tiring, couldn't keep up.
Yang Yang got to the ball first and, without breaking stride, whipped in a vicious right-footed cross — flat, fast, and bending toward the near post.
Charisteas was there, battling Kaladze for position. With his frame shielding the ball, he timed his jump and met the delivery with a sharp, driving header aimed low toward the far corner.
Dida reacted well — diving full stretch to his right. He parried it brilliantly. But the danger wasn't over.
The rebound bounced loose at the top of the six-yard box.
Yaya Touré arrived in full stride.
Without hesitation, he struck through the ball with his laces — a thunderous right-footed drive that screamed past Gattuso and Nesta, bulging the roof of the net before Dida could even react.
3–2.
Ajax were back in it.
The Ivorian's roar echoed across the San Siro as he wheeled away in celebration, fists clenched, adrenaline surging. His teammates swarmed him — Yang Yang first, arms around him, before turning to pat Charisteas on the back.
"Good hold-up!" Yang Yang shouted over the noise.
Charisteas gave a brief nod. He knew he should have scored himself — but his effort had created the chance.
Sneijder arrived next, his fist pumping in the air. On the sidelines, the Ajax bench erupted in applause.
It wasn't just a goal — it was momentum, belief. The kind of goal that turns a match into a knife-edge affair.
Though Charisteas still lacked the ruthlessness of a world-class finisher, his role was becoming clear: absorb pressure, draw defenders, make room for runners like Yaya Touré and Sneijder to burst into scoring zones.
Behind them, Nigel de Jong remained the anchor — holding the shape, breaking Milan's transitions, giving the attackers the platform they needed to push.
And now, with less than 20 minutes to play, the tide had shifted.
Ajax weren't done yet.
...
...
Ajax's second goal reignited the match — and the pressure inside San Siro spiked once again.
With the momentum threatening to shift, Carlo Ancelotti finally made his first move from the bench.
The first substitution saw 39-year-old Alessandro Costacurta come on to replace Serginho at left-back.
It was a clear signal: Ancelotti had seen enough.
Both of Ajax's goals had originated from Serginho's flank. While the veteran Brazilian still offered attacking thrust, his defensive lapses were proving costly. His age — and declining pace — had been brutally exposed by Yang Yang and Maicon.
In contrast, Costacurta, despite being nearly forty, brought vast experience, positional intelligence, and a cool head under pressure. He wasn't going to chase the game or bomb forward — he was there to stabilize and protect the flank.
The immediate effect was visible: Ajax's right-side attacks became more measured. The space Yang Yang had been exploiting earlier now had to be earned with greater effort.
But Ancelotti wasn't done.
Moments later, he made a second substitution — Rui Costa replaced Kaka.
If the first change was about securing the defense, this one was about tactical clarity. With AC Milan no longer threatening on the counter and Kaka fading out of the match, Rui Costa's ability to slow the tempo, retain possession, and orchestrate attacking sequences from deeper areas became invaluable.
And within three minutes of coming on, the Portuguese maestro made an impact.
After drifting between the lines and receiving the ball near the left channel, Rui Costa twisted past his marker with a quick feint and burst of control. Then, with a measured swing of his right boot, he whipped in a teasing cross toward the near post.
Shevchenko timed his run perfectly.
The Ukrainian striker ghosted across Heitinga, using his body to shield the Ajax defender, and launched himself at the ball with a forceful header.
Stekelenburg had no chance.
The ball screamed past him into the top corner.
4–2.
Shevchenko wheeled away in jubilation, arms stretched wide, sprinting toward the corner flag as the San Siro erupted behind him. More than 70,000 Milanisti rose to their feet, chanting his name.
It was Shevchenko's second goal of the night — and his tenth in this season's UEFA Champions League, drawing him level with Yang Yang atop the tournament's scoring chart.
"Absolutely clinical from Shevchenko!" the Dutch commentator exclaimed.
"And what an assist by Rui Costa. That's why he's still so trusted in games like these — the vision, the calm, the quality of the delivery."
"Yang Yang now shares the top scorer position once again, but more importantly for Milan, they've re-established their two-goal cushion — and perhaps broken Ajax's momentum."
Ancelotti, reading the rhythm of the game, immediately made his third substitution.
Massimo Ambrosini came on for Gilardino.
A defensive midfielder for a striker — the message was unmistakable. Protect the lead. Shut the game down.
It was now the 80th minute, and with a 4–2 scoreline in their favor, Milan looked determined to see it out.
"Yes, Ajax have two away goals," the analyst added, "but AC Milan still hold a firm grip on the tie. They've done what was needed — punished defensive lapses, responded to setbacks, and shown their pedigree."
"Ancelotti will know they're in a strong position going into the second leg — especially considering Milan's strength in defensive organization and their lethal counterattacking ability."
Indeed, with just over ten minutes to play, the momentum had tilted again.
...
...
Ajax also responded swiftly with a substitution of their own.
Veteran midfielder Tomáš Galásek came on for Heitinga.
It was a necessary change. The Dutch centre-back had struggled all night — first physically outmatched, then mentally rattled. Even in the second half, he had been beaten again by Shevchenko in the air for Milan's fourth goal. His confidence looked shot, and his legs were heavy.
Galásek's introduction shifted Ajax into a more traditional 4-4-2.
With Vlaar and Vermaelen now the central pairing, De Jong dropped just ahead of them, flanked by Galásek to his right. Yaya Touré pushed up slightly, with Sneijder operating in the left half-space. Yang Yang had now drifted permanently to the left, allowing for more direct involvement and avoiding the bottleneck created by Milan's reinforced right flank.
Meanwhile, AC Milan had made their third substitution: Ambrosini on for Gilardino. That left Shevchenko as the lone forward, with a reinforced midfield line to protect the lead. Ancelotti's intentions were clear — he wanted to lock down the game.
A 4–2 scoreline was more than satisfactory from Milan's perspective.
For Ajax, the narrative was different. Many might say reaching this stage was already an achievement — that pushing the Champions League finalists to their limits was more than respectable.
Yang Yang didn't see it that way.
Yes, he had scored once. He had helped create another. But a burning frustration simmered beneath the surface.
It wasn't enough.
He was exhausted. In the 80th minute, his lungs burned with every sprint. Each time the play paused, he bent over, catching his breath, sweat pouring off his brow and soaking his shirt.
But he still felt unwilling to give in.
Technically, Milan hadn't been perfect. They had squandered chances, grown complacent, and loosened their shape in the second half.
And if this was the gap between the two sides — then why couldn't Ajax at least grab one more?
At 4–2, the second leg would be a mountain. But at 4–3? At home, in Amsterdam? Everything would still be possible.
Pushing wide to the left, Yang Yang received a pass from Maxwell and sized up his new marker — Jaap Stam.
He took off immediately, looking to beat him with pace.
But Stam, though lacking in speed, had other tools. He used his strength, angling his body to disrupt Yang Yang's run, applying subtle physical pressure and smart positioning to neutralize the danger.
Yang Yang couldn't shake him.
By the time they reached the byline, the Dutch veteran had forced him into an awkward pass — the ball ricocheted off Stam's leg and rolled out for a corner.
"Boy, you're hard to track," Stam muttered, wiping sweat from his shaved head with the back of his glove.
Yang Yang gave a faint smile, but his frustration was obvious.
This was why he hadn't tried the left flank more often. With Gattuso protecting the zone and Stam anchoring it, it was a no-man's land for even the most agile attackers.
He looked up at the scoreboard.
Eighty-nine minutes.
Time was vanishing. Was this really how it would end?
Two away goals — yes, but trailing by two as well. Ajax needed something more. Something now.
One more goal.
Both teams began flooding the penalty area in preparation for the corner. Ajax had pushed nearly every aerial threat forward: Vermaelen, Vlaar, De Jong, Charisteas, even Galásek. Milan responded in kind, crowding their box with defenders and shouting instructions from the touchline.
Sneijder jogged over to take the corner. As he passed Yang Yang near the quadrant, the captain suddenly grabbed his arm.
"I've got an idea," Yang Yang whispered.
Sneijder blinked, glanced at the scoreboard, then nodded.
"You've got my ear."
Yang Yang leaned in and spoke quickly, sketching the concept in short phrases. Sneijder's expression tightened.
"I don't have the legs for that now," he said after a moment. "Let Touré do it — he's still got the engine."
Yang Yang paused, then gave a brisk nod.
Touré was waved over. Yang Yang passed on the idea, and the Ivorian gave a thumbs up.
With the plan settled, Yang Yang picked up the ball, gently resting it on the instep of his foot before placing it on the corner arc. He pulled his shirt up and wiped it dry — part ritual, part tactic. The grass residue might affect the strike, and this delivery had to be perfect.
San Siro seemed to hold its breath.
Inside the box, Milan's defenders were glued to Ajax's main targets. Vermaelen, always dangerous on corners, was double-marked. Vlaar was being wrestled by Ambrosini. Even Charisteas had a man at his hip and a hand at his back.
Ancelotti shouted from the sideline, urging tighter coverage.
He knew what Ajax could do from set pieces.
Sneijder and Galásek loitered at the edge of the area, ready to pounce on rebounds or knockdowns. Yaya Touré drifted toward the back post — casually, like he had no interest in the play. Gattuso followed, but hesitated. Was it a decoy?
Yang Yang stepped back, scanning the crowded penalty area.
He took a breath. Closed his eyes.
Calm your heartbeat. Focus.
Then came the referee's whistle.
He opened his eyes, took two strides forward — and did not take the corner himself.
That alone caught everyone by surprise.
Yang Yang, known for his whip-like deliveries from set pieces, didn't swing the ball in. Instead, he rolled it short into the box — a direct ground pass to Yaya Touré, who had already stationed himself inside the area, shielding Gattuso with his frame.
Touré received it cleanly, turned his back to goal, and held his position.
The entire penalty box tensed.
Milan's defenders scrambled. Everyone's eyes shifted to Touré. He had the ball in a dangerous area, and one turn could spell disaster.
No one noticed what was really happening.
Yang Yang, after playing the ball short, had immediately peeled away and sprinted wide, looping around the perimeter of the penalty area. With no defenders tracking him — because technically, he was no longer offside — he curved his run inward, accelerating.
It had been choreographed.
Touré held off Gattuso, waiting for Yang Yang's signal. The moment it came — a subtle hand movement, the briefest call — he flicked the ball with the inside of his boot to the left, away from goal, shielding it as Yang Yang burst past his shoulder.
The timing was razor-sharp.
Three years of daily training had etched this kind of sequence into Yang Yang's body. The touch weight, the angle, the steps — it was all instinct now. His body didn't hesitate. It knew what came next.
Yang Yang ran onto the ball, stepped over it with his left to control his balance, then swung his right foot through with clean, brutal force.
Crack!
The sound echoed even before the San Siro crowd reacted.
The ball tore off his foot like a missile, spinning violently. It rose, then dipped, arching over the heads inside the box. Dida saw it late — too late.
It clipped the inside edge between the crossbar and right post with surgical precision.
Goal!
The net rippled.
For a full second, no one moved. The entire stadium seemed to freeze.
Then the roar exploded.
Ronald Koeman leapt off the bench, fists punching the air.
On the other sideline, Ancelotti's hand shot to his mouth, eyes wide in disbelief.
Yang Yang turned to celebrate but didn't get far — Yaya Touré tackled him to the ground, shouting incoherently in joy. One by one, the rest of the Ajax players piled on.
It was pandemonium.
"GOAL!!!"
"It's absolutely sensational!"
"Yang Yang with a thunderbolt in the 89th minute!"
"This is outrageous — one of the finest goals of the season, no doubt about it!"
"He didn't take the corner — he started it, and then finished it himself with a devastating strike!"
The commentators could barely contain themselves.
"We all know Yang Yang is lethal when he cuts in from the left on his right foot, but this — this was pure genius. Vision, movement, execution — everything!"
"And Yaya Touré deserves credit as well — he played the decoy and the pivot to perfection!"
Ajax fans behind the goal erupted, scarves spinning, voices hoarse with disbelief and joy. They didn't care that the scoreboard still read 4–3 in Milan's favor. It didn't matter.
This goal was hope.
It was spirit.
And for many of them, it was enough.
Yang Yang lay under the weight of teammates, grinning despite the breath knocked out of him. Yaya Touré, worried he might have crushed him, hovered protectively over his back.
On the touchline, substitutes and staff clapped and shouted, their voices drowned out by the noise.
"A brace for Yang Yang!"
"Shevchenko may have scored twice and caught up to him on the Champions League scoring chart with 10 goals, but Yang Yang answers with a brace of his own — and now leads the competition with 11!"
"Just one behind Van Nistelrooy's single-season record of 12, set in 2002–03!"
"What a match! What a night! This has to be the most thrilling game of this season's Champions League."
"AC Milan had the edge — but Ajax, through sheer belief and bravery, have refused to disappear."
"And Yang Yang… this boy just made every ticket worth it tonight."
...
...
On the home bench at San Siro, Kaka rose slowly to his feet, eyes fixed in disbelief on the pitch.
He had just witnessed Yang Yang score one of the most outrageous goals of the season — a goal so instinctive, so violent in its execution, that for a moment Kaka genuinely questioned whether the scoreboard was wrong.
4–3? Was that real?
It all happened too quickly — a clever short corner, a disguised run, and then that missile of a strike. The ball had screamed off Yang Yang's foot and curled into the top corner before anyone could react. Even Dida, rooted to the spot, had been left helpless.
It was the kind of goal that bends reality for a split second.
Even as an opponent, Kaka could only shake his head and smile wryly.
"That one… that's tomorrow's front page," he muttered under his breath.
Despite being subbed off earlier, he remained invested — not just as a competitor, but as a footballer. He could recognize genius when he saw it, and tonight, Yang Yang was operating on a higher frequency than anyone else on the pitch.
Compared to that, he had to admit — neither he nor most of AC Milan's stars had hit the same level of sharpness. Their win, if it came, would rest on the depth and collective strength of the squad, not individual brilliance.
A 4–3 result flattered the Rossoneri more than it punished Ajax.
"This kid," Maldini murmured beside him, his tone reflective, "he plays like he's been sent from the future."
The veteran captain had watched Yang Yang from afar for several years — tape, scouting reports, occasional highlights — but this was the first time he'd faced him live, in full flight, on such a grand stage.
He was stunned by the composure, the decisiveness, and above all, the consistency.
"He gets stronger every season," Maldini added. "Every year, he comes back sharper, faster, more mature. Like he's evolving match by match."
No one on Milan's bench disagreed.
"This away leg just became a problem," Gilardino muttered, running a hand through his hair. He'd been grinding against Vermaelen and Vlaar all night, and now that Ajax had scored a third goal, the tactical balance was shifting.
Had it finished 4–2, Milan could've returned to Amsterdam with confidence, knowing even a narrow loss might not matter.
But 4–3?
Now Ajax had three away goals.
Three.
In a two-legged European tie, that was gold.
A 1–0 win at the Amsterdam Arena would see Ajax through — not on some miracle, but on the weight of this very goal that Yang Yang had just blasted into the net like a message to the entire continent.
The momentum had shifted.
And deep down, the Milan players knew it.
...
...
Back on the pitch, the Ajax players were eventually herded back into position by the referee, their frenzied celebration reluctantly coming to an end.
But something had changed.
Their shoulders were squared, their expressions charged not with resignation, but with belief.
Yes, the scoreboard still read 4–3 to AC Milan. Technically, Ajax were walking off the San Siro grass as the losing side. But no one in white and red felt like a loser.
Not after that goal.
A one-goal deficit away from home, with three away goals in hand? It felt like hope — tangible, earned hope. The kind you could feel in your chest and taste on your tongue.
As the players reset, passing glances and subtle nods to one another, a shared truth lingered in the air: Back in Amsterdam, everything could change.
They all knew Milan's reputation. The Italian giants were masters of protecting a lead. Defensive discipline. Tactical patience. Ruthless counterattacks. That was the Milan identity.
But Ajax knew something else: they had broken Milan's rhythm. They had rattled their aura. If they could do it once in the lion's den, they could do it again at home — with the whole of the Amsterdam Arena behind them.
If a goal like Yang Yang's could happen in the final minutes of a Champions League quarterfinal at the San Siro, who could say what was impossible?
For Yang Yang, the sensation was still coursing through his veins — not adrenaline, but something deeper.
Even he hadn't imagined this would be the script. That the tie's final word would be reserved for the Amsterdam Arena. That this long, bruising night in Milan would end with the initiative tilting back toward them.
Was it fate?
He dismissed the thought.
Not fate. Not destiny.
Effort. Will. Relentless belief.
It was the collective refusal to surrender — from himself, from Sneijder, from Yaya Touré, from De Jong, from every player in Ajax colors. They had forced this moment into being. It wasn't gifted, it was earned.
That was the only magic Yang Yang believed in.
He had told Kaka before the match: "I want Milan to experience what it feels like at our home."
Now, the chance had arrived.
And it wasn't some poetic accident or romantic twist of fate. It was the product of grit, sacrifice, and one final devastating strike — a goal that cracked open a door that many thought was already bolted shut.
Now it was up to them to walk through it — back home, where Ajax writes its stories.