When the halftime whistle blew, Oliver remained seated in the stands. Fans around him got up to buy beer or use the restroom, but he was hunched over his tactics board, sketching rapidly. He had gained a lot from watching the first half; Liverpool's left flank defense was indeed as Nagelsmann had predicted. Robertson's runs forward were very deep, but when tracking back, his positioning had a fatal habit: he always instinctively blocked the inside, leaving the outside corridor open. Oliver circled this point on his notes.
The stadium's big screen was replaying key moments from the first half. When Oliver looked up, he saw Baumann's incredible save from Mohamed Salah's one-on-one opportunity. On the sidelines, Nagelsmann had called Kramarić and Gnabry aside, his finger constantly tapping on the heatmap on his tablet.
On the other side, Klopp was embracing Arnold, loudly encouraging him; the young Arnold was very excited, his back completely drenched in sweat. After halftime, just two minutes into the second half, Liverpool almost extended their lead. Mane executed a sudden stop and change of direction on the left flank, shaking off Vogt, then sent a low cross into the front of the six-yard box.
Firmino's shot was incredibly tricky, but Baumann almost tipped the ball out for a goal kick with his fingertips, and Oliver heard a collective gasp from behind him.
"That Brazilian's adjustment before shooting was too subtle, completely deceiving our center-back," an old fan with glasses muttered beside him.
Oliver nodded silently, noting in his notebook: "Firmino shows a clear tendency for fake shots and real cuts inside the box."
As soon as he finished writing, Hoffenheim launched a sharp counter-attack. Gnabry's moment arrived; after receiving the ball, he threaded a pass into the right side of the box and unleashed a powerful shot that rocketed into the far corner, but the linesman's flag was already up. Offside. The cheer that had just erupted throughout the stadium instantly turned into boos.
"Why! Why is it always targeting small clubs like us?!"
"Is the referee blind? That wasn't offside!!"
"Corrupt referee!!!!"
In the stands, Hoffenheim fans were constantly complaining.
"I could tell that wasn't offside with my eyes closed," Nagelsmann also complained about the referee; already at a disadvantage, a goal was disallowed, and the fourth official had to come over and remind him to calm down.
Klopp, meanwhile, seized the opportunity to call Arnold to the sideline and quickly gave him some tactical instructions. Three minutes later, the young England star delivered a precise cross to Mane, but unfortunately, the latter's volley was once again saved by Baumann. The Commentator exclaimed.
"Liverpool's right-wing attack is like it has a GPS; young Arnold has already delivered five key crosses tonight, he is so crucial."
Oliver's binoculars closely followed Robertson's movements. When Milner had the ball on the left, the Scottish full-back did not make a blind run forward as he had in the first half but stayed within a reasonable distance of the three center-backs.
Oliver immediately realized that Klopp must have adjusted his defensive strategy at halftime. In the 66th minute, Hoffenheim missed another opportunity. Kramarić broke through on the left and crossed, and Gnabry got a golden chance near the penalty spot, but his shot went over the bar.
Upon seeing this, Nagelsmann threw his water bottle to the ground, and the splashing water made the players on the bench scatter. Four minutes later, Liverpool's Mohamed Salah got a half-one-on-one chance on the right side of the box, and Baumann made another miraculous save. But Oliver noticed that this shot resulted from Nordtveit's failed press; he rashly left his defensive zone, creating a huge gap in the center-back line. This mistake quickly led to disaster.
In the 74th minute, Milner lofted a cross from the left, and Nordtveit inadvertently poked the ball into his own net while attempting to clear it. A fatal, textbook own goal. The entire stadium instantly fell silent, with only the Liverpool fans in the away section celebrating wildly.
"In such a high-pressure match, a catastrophic error occurred! Nordtveit's performance tonight is a nightmare! Hoffenheim is now simply adding insult to injury; their Champions League path does not look smooth," the Commentator exclaimed.
Nonsense, drawing Liverpool was already not smooth at all. Nagelsmann's face was ashen on the sidelines; when Nordtveit walked past the coaching area with his head down, the young coach grabbed his arm and almost yelled at him:
"Tell me, Nordtveit! What the hell were you thinking just now?! Did that cross need you to clear it with the outside of your foot?!"
Nordtveit kept his head down, not daring to talk back, and was pulled back onto the field by Vogt, who was trying to calm him down.
Oliver had never seen Nagelsmann lose his composure like this. What worried him even more was that Hoffenheim fans in the stands began to boo sporadically. The old fan who had enthusiastically taken a photo with him during halftime was now covering his face in despair. Although Uth scored a goal back in the 87th minute, it was too late.
During stoppage time, Hoffenheim's relentless attack failed to change the score again.
When the final whistle blew, Liverpool players high-fived and celebrated, while Hoffenheim players either collapsed on the grass, unwilling to get up for a long time, or stood with hands on hips, bracing for criticism from the fans.
Oliver closed his filled notebook, his heart as heavy as if he had participated in the match himself. His notes were professional and detailed, from Liverpool's full-back overlapping assist timings to Mohamed Salah's habitual footwork when cutting inside, and even the loopholes in the Reds' defensive positioning during set pieces. But at this moment, the loss cast a shadow over all these analyses.
As he left the stadium, the discussions of the surrounding fans kept reaching his ears:
"Nordtveit's own goal was just amateurish; I could have played better than him…"
"Gnabry wasted at least three golden opportunities tonight…"
"The goalkeeper was our only bright spot tonight."
"We should have at least gotten a draw at home…"
In the post-match tunnel, Oliver climbed down from the stands, caught up with his team, high-fived and greeted them one by one, and coincidentally ran into a dejected Nordtveit. The center-back, who had made the big mistake, had bloodshot eyes; he forced a bitter smile when he saw Oliver: "Oliver, I hope you didn't note too many of my mistakes in your notebook."
Oliver didn't know what to say, so he just patted his shoulder. Seeing Nagelsmann walking towards the player tunnel, Oliver took a deep breath and stuffed his notebook into his backpack. The second leg at Anfield would be an even tougher battle, and he had to learn every possible lesson from this defeat.
...
The post-match press conference was packed with reporters, and camera flashes constantly flickered. Nagelsmann sat alone behind the long table, his face still grim but having regained his composure. A bottle of mineral water sat in front of him, and his fingertips gently tapped the table as he waited for the first question.
"Coach Nagelsmann, what do you believe was the key reason for tonight's loss?" The Kicker reporter was the first to ask.
Nagelsmann took a deep breath, his voice low but clear: "The responsibility lies with me. Our tactical setup had flaws, especially in defending Liverpool's wide crosses. Nordtveit's own goal was just a result; the real problem was that we failed to adjust in time during the match."
"What is your assessment of Nordtveit's performance?" The Bild reporter pressed.
Nagelsmann looked directly at the reporter and said,
"He is one of our key players, and mistakes are part of football, but as a coach, I should have anticipated Liverpool's crossing threat and reacted accordingly. This was my oversight."
Questions from reporters came one after another, and Nagelsmann did not shirk any responsibility, nor did he even mention individual player errors. When asked about the possibility of a comeback in the second leg, he simply replied: "Anything is possible in football, but we need to solve our own problems first."
As the press conference neared its end, Nagelsmann suddenly stood up and bowed slightly to the cameras: "I want to apologize again to the Hoffenheim fans. Tonight's performance did not meet your expectations, but we will do our best to make amends in the second leg."
This unexpected gesture silenced the room for a moment, then the camera flashes began to flicker frantically again. Back on the team bus, the atmosphere was heavy. Players sat in twos and threes, no one dared to speak. Nordtveit sat alone in the back, his forehead pressed against the window, his eyes vacant; the own goal had deeply affected him.
Oliver found a window seat, opened his notebook, and began to re-organize his notes from the night. Suddenly, the seat beside him dipped. It was Nagelsmann. He said nothing, just reached out and took Oliver's notebook, beginning to flip through it. The bus was so quiet that the sound of turning pages could be heard. Oliver held his breath, his peripheral vision catching the coach's brows, sometimes relaxed, sometimes furrowed.
Nagelsmann suddenly pointed to one of the pages, "Oliver, here, did you notice that Arnold observes the goalkeeper's positioning before crossing?"
Oliver nodded: "Yes, Coach, I have to thank you for the binoculars. In the first half, he crossed three times, and each time he would glance at Baumann's position before deciding the arc and landing spot."
Nagelsmann's lips curved slightly upward: "Very good, even our analysts didn't catch that detail."
He flipped a few more pages. "Your notes on Robertson directing the defense are also very accurate… He does deliberately slow down by half a beat when playing offside."
The bus drove smoothly through the night. The interior was still quiet, but Oliver felt the tense atmosphere ease somewhat. Nagelsmann took a fountain pen from his suit pocket and wrote a few lines in the blank space of the notes: "When Liverpool's midfield tracks back, Henderson habitually drifts to the right, creating space in the left channel."
He said in a low voice, "Pay attention to this next time. If we can switch play quickly…"
Oliver carefully noted it down, adding his own observation: "Also, Coach, Mane deliberately drifts to the center when off-ball, leaving space on the wing for Robertson to overlap."
Nagelsmann raised an eyebrow and looked at him: "You even noticed that?"
This time, he was genuinely surprised. Nagelsmann leaned back in his seat and let out a long sigh, "Honestly, your notes are better than some of our players' execution."
This comment made Oliver's ears burn. He rubbed the back of his head and said, "Coach… this is just what I should do…"
The two of them continued to flip through the pages, Nagelsmann occasionally adding tactical points, and Oliver offering his observations beside him. They were constantly exchanging post-match insights. For a moment, Oliver felt like an assistant coach. After discussing the notes, Nagelsmann's furrowed brow had completely relaxed.
He closed the notebook and said. "You know, Oliver, tonight I was planning to smash something when I got back." He made a rare joke, "But I feel much better now, because you've really learned something valuable; your notes are very professional, and they've brightened my mood considerably."
Oliver didn't know how to respond, so he just nodded: "Thank you, Coach, I will continue to watch more matches."
The bus drove into the training base, and players disembarked one by one. Nagelsmann patted Oliver's shoulder before standing up: "Next Saturday, in the first round of the Bundesliga against Werder Bremen, you'll be starting. The opportunity is yours, prepare well. I need you to create threats on the right flank."
"I will definitely prepare seriously, Coach!!" Oliver could barely contain his joy; he had thought his next start might be in over a month, but it had come so quickly.
On the way back to the club, Nagelsmann also thought a lot.
"This kid's game-reading ability is terrifying, and his on-field performance is also great. Perhaps… I really should give him a chance in the second leg? Klopp can trust Arnold, and I should trust Oliver."
But in the end, he just shook his head, temporarily suppressing that thought. It wasn't time yet, at least he had to see his performance in the next Bundesliga match first. Oliver's notes took away some of Nagelsmann's disappointment; although the bitterness of the loss still lingered, at least tonight, he saw the possibility of the future in a 17-year-old boy.
This was more precious than victory.