Football: He suffered a broken leg at the start of the game, but partnered with Haaland!

The medical center is right next to the training base.

Sun Yang followed the assistant coach inside.

Uncle Henry followed behind, his fingers constantly fiddling with the zipper of his coat.

He was even more nervous than Sun Yang.

No matter how explosive the game was on the training field just now, it was just a trial.

A professional contract can't be broken with a single long-range shot.

Sun Yang's resume, in particular, would be a hot potato if placed on any club's table.

Arsenal just terminated his contract.

There was just news of a serious fracture risk in his left leg.

Nineteen years old.

Asian-American.

He has no experience playing in official matches with the first team.

With these labels stacked together, even mid-table teams, let alone top clubs, would frown upon seeing them.

Team doctor Schmidt was already waiting in the examination room.

He was wearing a white coat, his hair was neatly combed, and there was a stack of forms on the table, along with several medical documents transferred from Arsenal.

There was no small talk.

Schmidt handed the pen directly to Sun Yang.

"Sun, we need to have a full medical check-up."

"Bone structure, muscles, cardiopulmonary function, joint stability, and athletic ability—everything needs to be tested. You need to understand, this isn't just a formality."

Sun Yang took the pen.

"no problem."

Schmidt looked at him, his tone harsh.

"If there are any obvious injury concerns, Dortmund will not sign you to a professional contract. No matter how beautifully you played just now, it will be the same."

Uncle Henry suddenly became anxious.

"Doctor, he was absolutely brilliant just now. Those two passes and that long shot, I'm not exaggerating, they were top-notch."

Schmidt raised his hand, interrupting politely, but his attitude remained firm.

"Mr. Henry, I saw it."

"But football isn't a ten-minute highlight reel. The Bundesliga involves physical confrontation, high pressing, and playing two matches a week. Whether a player can withstand it depends on the statistics."

Henry opened his mouth, but in the end, he swallowed his words.

He understands.

They weren't targeting Sun Yang.

That's how professional football is.

Sun Yang didn't argue either.

Being able to pass the ball doesn't mean you can physically withstand the Bundesliga.

Being able to unleash a powerful Batistuta GO doesn't mean you can survive every game when sandwiched between center-backs and defensive midfielders.

He walked into the examination room.

The first item is nuclear magnetic resonance (NMR).

Left leg.

Knee joint.

Ankle joint.

Tibia.

fibula.

The cold, mechanical sound buzzed in my ears.

Sun Yang lay inside, surprisingly calmer than Henry.

He knew the effects of the iron leg treatment.

But Arsenal's diagnostic data was terrifying.

If Dortmund's team doctor really sees a problem in the scans, all his efforts today may be stuck at this door.

After the scan results came out, Schmidt sat in front of the computer and stared at them for a long time.

Henry stood in the doorway, rubbing his hands together and muttering something under his breath.

The assistant coach didn't say anything either.

The only sound in the room was the scrolling of the mouse wheel.

A few minutes later, Schmidt took off his glasses.

"There is nothing wrong with the bones."

Henry let out a long breath.

"Thank God, everything's alright."

Sun Yang's shoulders relaxed a little.

Schmidt did not close the report.

He turned to the next page, his brow furrowing even deeper.

"The marks from the old wound look a bit strange."

Sun Yang's heart tightened.

Schmidt stared at the images and said, "Judging from the images, your bones are recovering very well, the joint surfaces are clean, and there are no risk points that I had anticipated."

"But in the information we received, you were previously diagnosed with a high risk of severe fractures, and even long-term risks."

The assistant coach asked, "Could it be that Arsenal's initial diagnosis was too conservative?"

Schmidt was silent for two seconds.

"Possibly. In an emergency room setting, the initial diagnosis will tend to be cautious."

Henry gave a cold laugh.

"They're not being cautious, they're just too lazy to look closely. If those people truly cared about Yang, they wouldn't have let him be swept out like trash."

Schmidt glanced at Henry but did not refute him.

He simply wrote one line on the report.

Sun Yang bent down to tie his shoelaces.

Let Arsenal take the blame.

Anyway, they weren't wronged.

Next is body fat percentage.

DEXA scan.

Basal metabolism.

Muscle mass distribution.

Sun Yang stood on the instrument, watching the data on the screen jump out one by one.

Body fat percentage: 10.8%.

not bad.

Even among professional players, he wouldn't be considered top-tier.

The muscle mass in the lower limbs is low.

Upper limb strength is average.

The core strength is still acceptable.

Schmidt, holding the report, spoke very frankly.

"You don't look like you just broke your leg."

"But you don't seem like the kind of player who can immediately adapt to the physicality of the Bundesliga."

Henry's expression changed again.

My heart, which had just settled down, was lifted up again.

Sun Yang looked up and asked, "What's wrong with it?"

Schmidt pointed at the data with a pen.

"The hamstring muscles."

"Use your glutes."

"Upper body confrontation".

"If you play in the middle, the defensive midfielder will head you, the center-back will bump into you, and the wing midfielders will double-team you from the side."

"Especially when receiving the ball with your back to the goal, you'll be in danger if you hold the ball for too long."

Sun Yang smiled.

"Then I'll handle the ball less."

The assistant coach looked at him.

Sun Yang added, "One-touch pass."

Schmidt paused for a moment.

The assistant coach couldn't help but laugh.

"That's very German."

Schmidt lowered his head and wrote a few strokes.

"The premise is that you can see the route in advance every time."

Sun Yang did not explain.

Of course he can see it.

Often, it's not the eyes that see the answer first.

The answer was already there: the forwards' movement, the defensive line's center of gravity, and the full-backs' positioning.

The stadium speaks volumes.

Some people just can't hear it.

Then comes the shuttle run.

5 m.

10 m.

20 m.

30 m.

Repeated sprints.

Sun Yang changed into his training shoes and stood behind the line.

The timer lights up.

Group 1.

20-meter sprint, 3.07 seconds.

The assistant coach looked at the data.

"It's alright, it starts up fairly quickly."

Second Group.

Group 3.

Group 5.

By the time they reached the eighth group, Sun Yang's breathing began to become erratic.

The problem of insufficient physical attributes is starting to show.

How many times can an explosion last?

However, if you sprint continuously for too long, the quality of your movements will drop.

Schmidt took very careful notes.

"His ability to sprint repeatedly is average."

"Lactate tolerance is average."

"This means that his current physical condition prevents him from playing the entire match, and his ball handling quality may decline in the last twenty minutes of the game."

The assistant coach nodded.

"The pace of the Bundesliga can be very demanding. Especially now that we need to press high up the pitch and immediately win the ball back after losing possession, if he plays as an attacking midfielder or a second striker, he can't just pass the ball around."

Sun Yang braced himself on his knees and took a few breaths.

It doesn't sound good.

But it's the truth.

When I watched games before, I always thought that it was just a matter of star players running all over the field.

Only when you actually stand in the professional test do you realize that every sprint feels like something is being pulled out of your body.

In the end, the legs weren't legs anymore, and the lungs weren't lungs anymore.

This was followed by the Yo-Yo interval endurance test.

A notification sound plays.

Sun Yang started running back and forth.

once.

Ten times.

Twenty times.

Sweat dripped from his chin onto the ground.

Henry stood to the side, initially wanting to cheer, but then he kept his mouth shut.

He was afraid that if he shouted too much, it would distract Sun Yang.

Sun Yang gritted his teeth and held on until level 18.4.

Schmidt nodded.

"Not bad by youth team standards."

The assistant coach asked, "What if we put him in the first team?"

Schmidt didn't beat around the bush.

"On the verge of becoming a substitute."

Henry's face fell.

"But his passing is really good. You saw it just now, the lead, the curve, it's not something you just guessed in training."

Schmidt put down his pen and looked at Henry.

"I know."

"So I need to continue testing."

This sentence calmed Henry down.

He suddenly realized that the German doctor wasn't trying to make things difficult for Sun Yang.

He was responsible for Dortmund, and also for Sun Yang.

Professional football is not a fairy tale.

Once the contract is signed, someone has to take responsibility for the training plan, the intensity of the competition, and the management of injuries.