"Good shot! Come on, one more!"
Neil Goyal was buzzing with excitement, his sharp mind locked onto the screen. It was India versus Syria in the 2023 AFC Asian Cup group stage, and he was analyzing every move.
Syria struck early, with Omar Khribin scoring a sharp goal to lead 1-0. "Push forward, India!" Neil urged, already calculating tactical shifts in his head.
Despite India's efforts, Syria held firm, clinching a 1-0 victory. Neil slumped back, stunned. "Syria outplayed us with just one goal. How did this happen?"
Kunaal Thakur, sipping his chai, wasn't surprised. "Syria's players compete in strong leagues, and their system is solid. India's talent is raw—we need better exposure to compete."
Neil's brain sparked. "What if we bought a club in a top-five league, like in Germany? Build it up first, then use it to develop Indian players. It could revolutionize our football."
Kunaal nodded thoughtfully. "Germany's interesting. Their 50+1 rule keeps clubs fan-controlled, with over 50% of voting rights held by members. It forces a focus on youth academies, not just buying stars."
"Exactly," Neil said, leaning forward. "I read that Germany's youth systems produce players like Kimmich because of it. But isn't the German Football Association planning to scrap the 50+1 rule?"
Kunaal raised an eyebrow. "You're well-informed. Yeah, there's talk of abolishing it this year. Investors could gain more control, making it easier to buy and reshape a club."
Neil's eyes gleamed. "That's our chance. A German club—maybe a struggling one in the Bundesliga or 2. Bundesliga—could be perfect. We'd turn it around, build a strong foundation, and later create a pipeline for Indian talent."
"Buying a club isn't simple, Neil," Kunaal cautioned. "Even without 50+1, you'd need serious capital and a vision. German fans are passionate—they'll expect results."
"I've got the funds," Neil said confidently. "And you've got the football know-how. I know Asian investors have bought into European clubs before. Why not us? We'd start small, maybe a club like Hannover or Nürnberg, and make it a powerhouse."
Kunaal chuckled. "You're relentless. A German club could work, especially if 50+1 goes. It'd give us room to innovate while respecting their traditions."
"Exactly," Neil said. "We'd build a club India can be proud of, and one day, our players will shine on the world stage. Let's start scouting."
Kunaal Thakur, heir to India's largest hotel chain, grew up knowing hard work. His family's empire, spanning luxury hotels in Mumbai to budget lodges in small towns, was built by his father's generation, who rose from humble beginnings. Kunaal's childhood struggles shaped him into a diligent, sharp-minded 20-year-old.
Neil Goyal, born into a sprawling business empire—real estate, automobiles, and Bollywood—founded by his grandfather, who capitalized on India's economic reforms, inherited wealth but not idleness. His keen intellect drove him to seek new ventures. The two, friends since childhood due to their families' business ties, had grown bored of sports cars, watches, and sneakers.
Now 20, their families entrusted them with "a small sum" to invest. As they brainstormed, India's 1-0 loss to Syria sparked an idea. Watching Syria's Khribin outclass India, Neil fumed. "We need to level up Indian football. Why not buy a German club? Build it, then use it to train Indian talent."
Kunaal, cautious, sipped his chai. "Germany? It's not our turf. We don't know their rules. Blind moves could flop like those flashy investors who crashed out." He wanted to play smart, not just big.
Neil leaned forward, eyes bright. "Germany's perfect. Their 50+1 rule is about to be scrapped, opening the door for investors like us. Clubs there are cheaper than in the Premier League—think Hannover or Nürnberg. We'd rebuild one, make it strong, then create a pipeline for Indian players."
Kunaal frowned. "You're impulsive, Neil. But you're onto something. German clubs focus on youth systems, producing stars like Musiala. Without 50+1, we'd have more control to shape a club our way."
"Exactly," Neil said. "Foreign capital will flood in once the rule's gone. We move now, we negotiate better deals. Bundesliga's not Premier League, but it's world-class. We'd build a legacy, not buy someone else's."
Kunaal's business sense kicked in. "Cheaper clubs mean less risk. We'd start small, prove ourselves, and avoid being seen as wasteful tycoons. But it's a long game—rebuilding a club takes years before we can bring in Indian talent."
Neil grinned. "I'm in for the long haul."
"Come on, which club are we buying?" Neil asked, his mind already envisioning their German venture.
"Slow down. We need to visit Germany first," Kunaal said, sipping his coffee.
"What? We can't just handle it from Mumbai?" Neil said, surprised. He'd assumed buying a club was as simple as wiring money.
Kunaal sighed. "We need to see it in person. Videos and data can be misleading. This isn't like picking a new car."
Neil grinned, unfazed. "Fine, Germany it is. I've been itching to travel. Munich sounds perfect."
"You bringing your girlfriend?" Kunaal asked.
"Which one?" Neil teased, then shrugged. "Broke up with Priya last month. I'm single now."
Kunaal shook his head. "You switch girlfriends faster than startups. You'll never settle down."
"Better than being tied to one person," Neil shot back. "Where in Germany?"
"I've shortlisted a few clubs—Hannover, Nürnberg, maybe St. Pauli," Kunaal said. "My team did some research. We'll visit them all."
"Sweet. Germany, here we come," Neil said, planning.
Munich Airport in winter was a snowy wonderland, despite cleared runways. Neil and Kunaal stood in a quiet corner, holding hot coffees, gazing at the frosty landscape.
"Our pickup is late," Kunaal muttered, checking his watch.
"That flight attendant was top-notch, though," Neil said, winking.
Kunaal rolled his eyes. "Your private jet, your crew. Of course you'd say that."
"Why so grumpy? We don't always agree on taste," Neil teased.
"I'm loyal to my wife," Kunaal said firmly. "No interest in anyone else."
"You'll see the light someday," Neil said, grinning mischievously.
A clatter of footsteps interrupted them. "Bet that's our pickup," Neil said. "Your hotel staff, right? Slacking?"
"My family's hotels are swamped," Kunaal retorted. "They're not our chauffeurs."
"Once we own a club, Europe's our playground. We'll stay at your hotels for games," Neil said.
"Sorry, I'm late!" A breathless voice cut through. Kunaal turned, ready to scold, but froze.
The newcomer was a young German woman, about 20, studying at LMU Munich. Roughly 170 cm tall, she wore black-and-white sneakers, fitted jeans, a Bayern Munich jersey, and a high ponytail. Her fair skin peeked out at her wrists and neck, delicate yet striking, with sharp blue eyes and a face that could grace a magazine cover.
Neil raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Kunaal cleared his throat, trying to stay professional. "You're late," he said, his tone softening.