Rachel smirked. "You mean they'd love it almost as much as he deserves it."
A small chuckle broke the tension in the room, but Nagelsmann's mind was already made up. He put the tablet down and looked at his staff.
"All right," he said firmly. "Brandt comes in for Wirtz."
Benjamin raised an eyebrow. "You're serious?"
Nagelsmann nodded. "Yes. He's earned it. And I want him training with the senior squad starting Wednesday. I'll call Frankfurt's staff myself."
Rachel smiled, sitting back in her chair, satisfied. "Took you long enough."
Völler grinned, shaking his head. "Let's hope he doesn't make us all look old out there."
Nagelsmann's expression softened as he looked once more at the frozen image on his tablet — Lukas, mid-dribble, eyes locked forward, the crowd behind him a blur of motion and light.
"He won't," Nagelsmann said quietly. "He'll make us look smart."
