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

The frenzy outside the stadium was burning, but the players' tunnel was unusually quiet.

There was none of the tense, confrontational atmosphere I had imagined.

In this level of competition, superstars often exhibit extreme relaxation and focus before the match.

The Paris Saint-Germain players are standing on the left side of the tunnel.

Neymar sported a very eye-catching new hairstyle. Chewing gum, he waved to Borussia Dortmund captain Marco Reus from a meter away.

"Hey Marco! Is your ankle better? Don't let me trip you up again tonight," Neymar called out half-jokingly in English.

Reus walked over and gave Neymar a high five.

"Neymar, watch your chopsticks. This is Westfalen, and when our defender tackles you, you better not be crying to the referee for a card."

Mbappe crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the ground, giving himself a final mental pep talk.

Haaland, this big guy, paced back and forth in the corridor, occasionally pounding his fists against the walls on either side, making dull thuds to get his muscles excited.

Sun Yang stood in the queue.

He was holding the hand of a German boy, a boy of about six or seven years old, who was a caddie.

The little boy, wearing a Borussia Dortmund home jersey, looked very awkward standing in this tunnel in front of so many world-class star players.

Sun Yang felt the small hand in his palm was sweating profusely, and its fingers were trembling uncontrollably.

He slowly squatted down, his gaze level with the little boy's.

Sun Yang reached out and ruffled the little guy's soft blond hair.

"Hey, little man. What's wrong? Are you a little nervous?" Sun Yang asked softly in fluent German.

The little boy swallowed hard and nodded vigorously.

He raised his head, his large, bright blue eyes fixed on Sun Yang, who was standing right in front of him. His voice was childish, yet it carried a stubbornness.

"Uncle Sun, I'm not afraid. I'm just excited. Every day after school I practice your signature 'crescent moon' kick in the backyard. When I grow up, I want to wear a Hornets jersey like you, stand here, and compete against the most famous football stars in the world!"

Upon hearing this, Witsel, who was standing in front, and Hummels, who was standing next to him, both smiled good-naturedly.

Sun Yang looked at the child whose eyes were full of stars and gave him a big thumbs up.

"Well said, buddy. You can definitely do it, you might even do better than me." Sun Yang patted the caddie on the shoulder. "But now, you have to come outside with me and hear the cheers of over 80,000 people. Ready?"

The little boy nodded emphatically and gripped Sun Yang's large hand tightly in return.

Just then, the stirring and powerful Champions League theme song came through the loudspeaker at the end of the passageway.

"Come on, gentlemen. It's our turn to go up there and teach those Frenchmen a lesson!" Reus shouted from the front of the line.

The players from both teams walked out of the players' tunnel with firm steps, accompanied by Mateu Lahoz, the renowned Spanish referee.

The moment I stepped onto the court.

The intense beams of the searchlights were so blinding that it was almost impossible to open one's eyes. This was followed by a deafening roar, a massive wave of sound that soared into the sky.

Sun Yang took a deep breath of the air in Westphalia, which was filled with the smell of grass and soil, and all the millions of cells in his body came alive.

This is the highest hall of football in the world, the Champions League knockout stage pitch that countless professional players dream of stepping onto.

The players from both sides lined up in the center circle.

Laos carefully checked the number of players on both sides and then turned to the fourth official on the sidelines to confirm that the equipment was working properly.

The television broadcast camera panned across Dortmund's trident in turn, finally pausing for a full three seconds on Sun Yang's calm and young Asian face.

On the PSG side, Mbappe is already standing at the serve point.

Di Maria was taking small, quick steps back and forth on the right wing, while Neymar was adjusting his long socks.

Both sides took their positions.

Laos glanced at the countdown timer on his wrist and put the whistle in his mouth.

"beep--!"

A sharp and long whistle pierced the night sky of Westphalia.

The first leg of the Champions League Round of 16 match between Borussia Dortmund and Paris Saint-Germain has officially kicked off!

Mbappe flicked the ball with his toe, sending it to Verratti behind him. PSG kicked off first.

The boos from the entire stadium instantly overwhelmed the away team players.

Verratti received the ball without any panic; he's the metronome of PSG's midfield. Facing the onrushing Sancho, Verratti easily turned and pulled the ball back, then passed it laterally to Kurzawa.

"Push forward! Don't let them accelerate in midfield!" Captain Reus shouted instructions to the defense from the right flank.

Kurzawa received the ball and looked up to observe. He noticed that Dortmund's formation was pushed extremely high. Tuchel's pre-match tactic was to use long passes to directly penetrate behind Dortmund's three-man defense.

Without hesitation, Kurzawa unleashed a long, lobbed pass with his left foot, aiming to find Mbappe who was making a forward run.

The ball flew through the air in a very high arc, heading towards Dortmund's backfield.

Hummels, with his experience, intercepted the ball in advance and headed it back into the midfield area, outjumping Mbappe.

This is a contest for a second penalty kick!

The ball dropped rapidly towards the left side of the center circle arc.

Neymar of PSG had somehow slipped into this position, and without even stopping the ball, he was ready to use his thigh to pass it to Di Maria for a counter-attack.

Just half a second after Neymar jumped to touch the ball.

A figure wearing a yellow and black number 29 jersey emerged from the side like a raptor flying close to the ground.

Sun Yang had already started his run when he positioned himself in the backcourt.

Facing the technically gifted Neymar, Sun Yang simply ignored all logic. He pushed his speed to the limit, not even bothering to look at the players, his eyes fixed solely on the descending ball.

"Bang!"

The dull thud of muscles striking the ball exploded in the midfield.

Before Neymar could make a move, Sun Yang forcefully squeezed into Neymar's position. His broad shoulder slammed into Neymar's unprotected chest.

This was a perfectly justified collision!

Neymar felt as if he had been hit by an out-of-control pickup truck. He lost his balance, flipped in the air, and crashed heavily onto the grass.

Using the force of the impact, Sun Yang skillfully controlled the ball in mid-air with the outside of his right foot, and the ball obediently stuck to his foot.

Referee Laos raised his hands forward, indicating no foul, and the game continued!

The moment Sun Yang landed with the ball, he didn't pause or adjust at all.

His gaze swept across the empty space to his right, and he casually pointed forward with his left hand.

It's now!

He delivered a powerful and heavy pass with the instep of his right foot.

The ball skimmed the grass, transforming into a sharp, yellow-green laser, precisely piercing the gap in the defense between Kurzawa and Kimpembe.

There.

A golden giant standing 1.95 meters tall had shaken off all the defenders and charged into Paris Saint-Germain's penalty area like a bloodthirsty Nordic bear!