The bench was a strange place for Mateo. It was a vantage point, a tactical balcony overlooking the chaos, but it was also a cage.
Four days had passed since the Napoli match, two days of mandated rest, two days of light training and cycling. The physical recovery was complete, but the mental recovery was a continuous, conscious effort.
He was in Sinsheim, at the Rhein-Neckar-Arena, for the Bundesliga match against Hoffenheim.
The December air was crisp, carrying the scent of winter and the electric anticipation of a crucial away fixture. The score was 2-1 to Dortmund, a tense, narrow lead that felt precarious against a Hoffenheim side known for their resilience at home.
The stadium was a cauldron of noise, the home supporters creating a wall of sound that reverberated through the concrete stands. In the away section, a pocket of yellow and black defied the blue and white majority, their voices hoarse but unwavering.
