The air was different on European nights.
Even though the sun was still dipping behind the horizon, and kickoff was an hour away, the atmosphere around Signal Iduna Park crackled with an energy Thiago hadn't yet experienced. League games were loud. This… this was something else.
Outside the stadium, yellow scarves twirled in the hands of fans already buzzing on beer and hope. Flags fluttered from balconies. Supporters in full kit shouted songs and chants into the late summer air. And inside the walls of the stadium, beneath thousands of empty seats soon to be filled, the hum was more than just electrical—it was emotional.
Thiago adjusted his tracksuit collar and looked up toward the towering stands as he stepped off the team bus. He knew he wasn't starting, and probably wouldn't get more than a few minutes—if that. But none of that mattered. He was part of the squad. His name was in the program. His boots were packed, taped, and ready.
