Echoes of Greatness: The Rise of a Global Football Sensation

This year's Brazilian U20 team is primarily composed of black players, making the blonde-haired Rafinha stand out even more among his teammates. At just 1.71 meters tall and weighing 66 kilograms, the 19-year-old right-back may not be the most physically imposing player on the pitch, but his technical ability more than compensates for it. 

Rafinha has gained a reputation for his attacking prowess, an attribute that has made him a key figure in Brazil's run at the World Youth Championship. With four goals to his name in the tournament, he has proven himself as more than just a defender. His most crucial moment came in the quarter-finals, where his decisive goal propelled Brazil into the semi-finals. 

It's fair to say that Rafinha is not only the core player of the Brazilian U20 squad but also its most dangerous attacking outlet from the right flank. 

By contrast, Yang Yang's Ajax teammate, Filipe Luís, is only a substitute in this Brazilian team, further highlighting Rafinha's prominence. 

Rafinha idolizes Cafu, but unlike the legendary right-back, his attacking instincts are even more aggressive. While Cafu was known for his tireless running and balanced play, Rafinha is almost more of a winger than a traditional full-back. 

According to Yang Yang's analysis, Rafinha frequently pushes high up the pitch, often linking up seamlessly with his teammates, particularly Rafael Sobis. Though positioned as a right-back, his forward movements make him feel more like an advanced wing-back, always looking to create attacking opportunities rather than staying back to defend. 

His Brazilian teammates clearly trust him as well. When building up play from the midfield or defensive third, they often look to his side, knowing he will charge forward and provide an outlet. 

And that is precisely the weakness Yang Yang aims to exploit. 

At Ajax, pre-training rondo drills have been a staple of every session. Yang Yang is often placed in the middle as the ball retriever, not as a punishment but as a deliberate part of his development. Constant changes of direction during these drills have significantly sharpened his ability to press, anticipate, and win the ball. 

Over time, Yang Yang has grown physically stronger. His muscle development, guided by tailored training programs from Winston Bogarde, has improved his physical duels. However, rather than slowing him down, these gains have enhanced his agility and explosiveness. His acceleration has become lethal—when he decides to burst forward, he can often leave defenders behind instantly. 

Rondo training has also refined his defensive instincts. Through relentless practice, he has learned when to press, how to close passing lanes, and, most importantly, how to deceive opponents with fake movements before intercepting the ball. 

But pressing Rafinha alone would not be enough. 

To successfully dispossess him, Yang Yang needed a partner—Gao Lin. 

Without hesitation, Yang Yang quickly shared his plan. 

His clever teammate grasped the idea instantly, giving a firm nod. "Alright, let's go. I'll work with you." 

With a quick clap of hands, they split up, ready to set their trap. 

... 

... 

The Brazilian team, leading by a goal, continued to circulate the ball at a slow and methodical pace, showing no urgency despite China's defensive setup. 

For Yang Yang, who was used to the fast-paced, high-intensity football of the Eredivisie, this style felt unnatural. He disliked standing still and watching the opposition pass the ball around, but he remained patient, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. 

The minutes ticked by. 

Gao Lin attempted several times to disrupt Brazil's rhythm, pressing high and trying to force mistakes, but his efforts were in vain. The Brazilian players, calm and composed, continued their patient buildup. 

Yang Yang kept signaling to his teammates, urging them to remain calm and wait for the right moment. 

Then, in the 44th minute, that moment arrived. 

Brazil played the ball back once more to their defensive line. As soon as center-back Fabio received possession, Gao Lin charged forward with a direct press, forcing him into a quick decision. The Brazilian defender had no choice but to look for a pass, either wide or back to the goalkeeper. 

Yang Yang had been hovering around the left side of Brazil's formation, slightly behind Gao Lin. The instant Gao Lin pressed forward, Yang Yang reacted as well. 

Fabio hesitated under pressure, initially shaping to pass left before suddenly changing his mind and turning right, attempting to find Rafinha in space. 

"Fabio is being pressed—he looks for Rafinha on the right!" 

As the pass left Fabio's foot, Yang Yang exploded into a sprint. His acceleration was instant, his movements sharp. 

Before receiving the ball, Rafinha scanned his surroundings and, seeing no immediate threat, prepared to take his first touch forward, positioning himself for a counterattack. He had done this all game, calmly taking control before driving forward. 

But this time was different. 

Just as Rafinha got his first touch, Yang Yang arrived like a storm. 

"Yang Yang is there! He's closing in fast!" 

The Brazilian right-back barely had time to react. His initial instinct was to turn and pass back to the goalkeeper, but Yang Yang's sudden charge left him trapped. 

"Rafinha is in trouble! He has no passing lanes!" 

At the same moment, Gao Lin stuck tightly to Fabio, eliminating another passing option. 

Desperate, Rafinha tried to shield the ball. But this was not the Yang Yang of a year ago. The relentless training in the Eredivisie, the strengthening exercises, the rondo drills—everything had refined his pressing ability. His body was stronger now, his reactions quicker. He didn't just lunge; he dominated. 

As he pressed in close, Rafinha was caught off balance. Yang Yang leaned in, shoulder to shoulder, and Rafinha staggered backward. 

"Yang Yang wins it! No foul! The referee lets it go!" 

Rafinha collapsed, throwing his arms up in protest, but the official remained unmoved. Yang Yang had won the ball cleanly. 

The Chinese fans erupted. 

"China has the ball! The counterattack is on!" 

Yang Yang didn't hesitate. He pushed forward with the ball, his explosive acceleration leaving Rafinha on the ground. 

Brazil was in immediate danger. 

Fabio tried desperately to recover, but Yang Yang had already surged ahead. He cut into the box, the goal looming. 

"The Brazilian defense is scrambling! Can he finish?" 

Goalkeeper Renan Brito stepped forward, angling himself to cut down the shooting lanes. He waited, hoping that Fabio's recovery would pressure Yang Yang into a rushed decision. 

But Yang Yang was no longer the inexperienced player of a year ago. He had faced these situations countless times in the Eredivisie. 

Calmly, he feinted, shifting his weight just enough to send Brito off balance. In the same motion, he pushed the ball with his right foot toward the far corner. 

"Yang Yang shoots—" 

The ball glided past Brito's desperate dive. 

"Goooooooooooal!!!" 

"GOAL! GOAL! GOAL!" 

The net rippled, and Fabio arrived half a second too late, his outstretched foot unable to stop the inevitable. 

"Yang Yang! Yang Yang! Yang Yang does it again!" 

"At the crucial moment, he steps up!" 

"1-1! China is level!" 

As soon as the ball crossed the line, Yang Yang spun and sprinted toward the stands, where Chinese fans and students had gathered. He waved his arms, urging them to raise their voices, demanding louder cheers. 

The stadium echoed with celebration. 

"Incredible! Absolutely incredible!" 

"China went behind early, but just before halftime, Yang Yang brings them back!" 

"This goal changes everything! China has a fighting chance in the second half!" 

"And with Yang Yang on the field, China always has hope!" 

... 

... 

On the pitch, Yang Yang couldn't hear the passionate commentary being broadcast to fans all over China, but he could feel the overwhelming energy from the stands. The stadium erupted with cheers, applause, and the rhythmic chants of his name in familiar Chinese, a sound that resonated deep within him. Above the crowd, the five-star red flag fluttered proudly in the wind, its presence adding even more weight to this moment. 

Kneeling beneath the stands, Yang Yang soaked in the atmosphere. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his body exhausted yet exhilarated. All the sweat, the relentless training, the sacrifices—everything had led to this moment. It was worth it. Every ounce of effort, every struggle, every setback, all of it now felt justified. 

Before he could fully process the emotions rushing through him, his teammates swarmed around him. One by one, they embraced him, patted his back, and held onto each other, bound by the same journey, the same hardships, and now, the same moment of triumph. Their jerseys were drenched, their bodies exhausted, but as they held each other close, breathing heavily, they shared something more than just a goal. They shared a belief—a belief that they could fight, that they belonged on this stage. 

On the sidelines, Krautzun, the experienced German head coach, clenched his fists tightly, pumping them into the air in pure exhilaration. He had seen many moments in his long career, but this—this was special. Behind him, the entire Chinese coaching staff and substitutes erupted, rushing forward from their seats, some leaping into the air, others screaming in celebration. 

Perhaps there had been conflicts, differences in philosophy, disagreements over tactics, but right now, none of that mattered. Their only goal, from the start, had been to push this Chinese U20 team further than it had ever gone before. 

And at this moment, there were no more differences—just unity, joy, and pride in what had just transpired. 

This goal was more than just a number on the scoreboard. 

This was Yang Yang's seventh goal in the U20 World Cup, further cementing his status as one of the tournament's top performers. But more than that, it was a goal that changed the course of the match. 

Brazil had dominated for most of the first half, playing at their own pace, controlling the rhythm. But now, the equalizer had shattered their momentum, delivering a psychological blow to their confidence. Instead of going into halftime with a lead, they were now forced to rethink their approach. 

For China, the goal meant something even bigger. 

This was a team used to losing, accustomed to being the underdogs, conditioned to doubt themselves. Years of struggles had eroded their belief, making them question whether they were truly capable of standing on the same stage as the world's best. 

But Yang Yang's goal changed that. 

For the first time, they felt that falling behind wasn't the end—that even against a powerhouse like Brazil, they could fight back, stand their ground, and challenge them head-on. 

They didn't have to fear being a goal down. 

They didn't have to fear Brazil. 

They just had to keep believing. 

And with the second half still to come, they had a chance—a real chance—to push even further, to hold the line, to fight for every ball, and maybe, just maybe, to deliver a knockout blow to the mighty Brazil. 

... 

... 

The air in the Chinese team's locker room was thick with exhaustion, so quiet that only the players' heavy breathing could be heard. 

No one spoke. 

Against a powerhouse like Brazil, every single player had given everything, pushing their limits, never daring to slack off. Even though only the first half had been played, the effort required to match a superior opponent had drained them. Their bodies were fatigued, their muscles burned, yet beneath the exhaustion, there was something else—exhilaration. 

They had fought back. 

They had equalized before halftime, dragging the game back to level terms. 

The battle was far from over, but now, for the first time, hope had been restored. 

And with that hope, the fire inside them burned stronger. 

Every player felt it. They could see it in each other's eyes, in the way their breath slowed but their spirits didn't. Their gaze naturally fell on Yang Yang—but it was different now. 

For many of them, their experiences with Yang Yang had been limited. They had played together in the Toulon Tournament and the Asian Youth Championship, where China had been competitive, even a title contender. The matches then had not felt as overwhelmingly difficult as the ones here in the World Youth Championship. 

Before this tournament, Yang Yang was just their biggest star—the player who shined the brightest on paper. 

He played for Ajax, the legendary Dutch club. 

He was the best player of the UEFA Cup. 

He had won the Golden Boy Award in Europe. 

The titles were dazzling, but to many of his teammates, they felt distant—they had never seen that version of Yang Yang up close. 

All they knew was that he was their leader, the team's biggest name, and they were expected to play around him, support him, follow him. 

But it felt passive, almost forced. 

Then the World Youth Championship started. 

And everything changed. 

They remembered the first match against Turkey, the runner-up of the 2004 UEFA European U19 Championship, a tournament powerhouse. Before the game, the entire Chinese squad had been uneasy, nervous, fearing an early collapse. 

Then, as soon as the match began, Yang Yang scored. 

That one moment transformed everything. Suddenly, the game flowed differently. The nervousness faded. The players settled in. Confidence grew. And before they even fully processed what had happened, the scoreboard read 3-0 at the final whistle. 

The mighty European runners-up had crumbled. 

That was the moment they began to believe. 

Against Ukraine and Panama, there were no surprises—China dominated. 

But then came the knockout stage, and the difficulty level escalated sharply. 

Germany. Spain. 

These were not Turkey. These were world-class youth teams, true giants of the game. Spain, in particular, was the reigning European Youth Champion, packed with generational talent. 

And yet, once again, China won. 

The outside world was stunned. 

The media, the fans, the footballing community—no one had expected China to make it this far. But what shocked the world even more was that the Chinese players themselves felt the same way. 

How had they done this? 

Each match, Yang Yang had been there. 

He didn't talk much, but he led with action. 

Under Spain's relentless attacks, he would track all the way back, helping defend at the edge of his own penalty area. And yet, at the critical moment, he would appear up front to fight for the winning goal. 

Off the pitch, he trained relentlessly, demanding the best from himself and setting an example for everyone else. But beyond training, he actively helped his teammates, using his European connections to arrange scouting opportunities for them, opening doors for their futures. 

By now, everyone in that locker room understood. 

Feng Xiaoting may have been the official captain, but Yang Yang was their true leader. Even Feng Xiaoting himself recognized it. 

And perhaps, to some extent, Yang Yang's influence in the dressing room had surpassed even that of head coach Krautzun. 

Because Yang Yang never let them down. 

Once again, trailing by a goal against Brazil, he had stepped forward, equalizing the score when the team needed him most. 

He had given them hope. 

And now, sitting in the silence of the locker room, exhausted but alive with adrenaline, every player felt it—they weren't done yet. 

The second half was still to come. 

And China still had a fight left in them. 

... 

... 

Krautzun's expression was serious, but beneath his composed exterior, there was an unmistakable sense of joy and excitement. 

As soon as he entered the locker room, he made sure to first congratulate the players, acknowledging their effort and resilience in the first half. He especially highlighted Yang Yang for his crucial equalizer. 

"That last goal before halftime was too important. It kept our hopes alive and gave us a stronger foothold going into the second half. That was a golden goal." 

He also took a moment to acknowledge Gao Lin, crediting his aggressive pressing in the final third, which had played a huge role in forcing Brazil into mistakes. 

But the players were already aware of their contributions. They weren't looking for praise—they were waiting for instructions. 

They wanted to know: How would they approach the second half? 

"The Brazilian team's play is outdated." 

Krautzun's words caught their attention. 

He was a coach built on theory, someone who had studied European tactics in depth. In the past, he had been accused of being too academic, too focused on theoretical football rather than practical coaching. Some had even questioned whether he was capable of implementing his ideas in real matches. 

But now, with China's U20 team unexpectedly reaching the semifinals, those doubts had largely disappeared. 

Even more importantly, Yang Yang had always publicly supported Krautzun's authority. That support had helped the German coach establish firm control over the dressing room. When he spoke, the players listened. 

"The reason I say their play is outdated is that this slow, methodical passing style is no longer the norm in modern football, at least not in Europe. Even the most Latin American-influenced team in Europe—Villarreal—has moved toward a faster, more fluid approach despite having a classic playmaker like Riquelme pulling the strings." 

Yang Yang, having faced Villarreal in the UEFA Cup, understood exactly what Krautzun meant. 

Villarreal, despite their South American influences, did not just pass the ball around for the sake of possession. They attacked with intent, and their play accelerated at key moments. 

Riquelme was undoubtedly their brain, but if he was neutralized, Villarreal's entire system became disjointed—just like what happened when Ajax faced them. 

In contrast, this Brazilian U20 team passed slowly, often pausing before attacking, focusing too much on keeping the ball rather than being decisive in the final third. 

Maybe it was a difference in footballing philosophy, or simply habit, but to Yang Yang, this style felt inefficient. 

"The dominant trend in European football right now," Krautzun continued, "is the speed of transition between attack and defense. Every top team emphasizes being fast and efficient—whether passing the ball forward or regaining possession defensively. The best example of this is Germany." 

The players nodded. 

Germany's attacking transitions were ruthless. When they lost the ball, they immediately pressed high—not just to win it back, but also to delay the opponent's counterattack, giving their defensive line time to reset. 

And when Germany won the ball, they didn't waste time. They attacked immediately, using speed and directness to create goal-scoring chances as quickly as possible. 

This was the style Krautzun wanted China to adopt. And to some extent, the team had successfully implemented it. 

But there was one key difference—physicality. 

The Chinese players simply did not have the same physical strength and endurance as European teams. This often forced them to retreat into a defensive shape rather than sustaining pressure over long periods. 

Yang Yang, having played in Ajax's high-tempo system for two years, understood this well. 

Regardless of whether it was Arie Haan or Krautzun, the exposure to advanced European football had given Yang Yang an entirely new perspective. It was something domestic coaches lacked, and something Chinese football desperately needed. 

If China had more coaches like them, bringing modern tactical ideas into the national team setup and youth academies, perhaps in ten or twenty years, Chinese football could truly progress. 

As Yang Yang contemplated this, Krautzun moved on to the team's strategy for the second half. 

The overall game plan would remain the same, but key adjustments were needed. 

The first priority—neutralizing Rafinha. 

"Yang Yang," Krautzun said, making direct eye contact. "I need you to press Brazil's right-back harder. He's their most important outlet going forward. If we can limit his influence, our defense will be under far less pressure." 

Yang Yang nodded immediately. "I'll make sure he doesn't get a chance." 

Next, Krautzun turned to Chen Tao. 

"I want you to push further up on the left side. We need to pin their left flank deeper." 

Gao Lin's role would remain central, focusing on occupying Brazil's center-backs and disrupting their midfield play. 

By pushing Yang Yang and Chen Tao higher, they wouldn't just be defending better—they would also be positioning themselves to launch counterattacks more effectively. 

And for that, Yang Yang's pace and dribbling ability would be China's most dangerous weapon. 

Krautzun looked around the locker room, making eye contact with every player. 

"Alright, guys, this is how we approach the second half." 

His tone was calm but firm—the final words before they stepped back onto the battlefield. 

"We have shown that we can contain Brazil. We have frustrated them, and we have brought the game back to our terms." 

"All we need to do now is stick to our strategy. We must be disciplined, resilient, and patient." 

"If we execute this game plan correctly, we will shut down their attack." 

"And once we have worn them down—we wait." 

"We wait for them to make a mistake." 

"And when that moment comes—" 

Krautzun paused for a moment, scanning their faces. 

"We will strike. And we will deliver the knockout blow." 

... 

... 

"The players of both teams have returned to the pitch." 

"We can see that the young players of China's U20 team look full of energy, and their confidence is evident in their body language." 

"This is Yang Yang, the biggest star of this Chinese side, currently playing for Ajax. Just before halftime, he stole the ball from Rafinha, sprinted past the defense, and calmly finished to bring China level." 

"We sincerely hope that Yang Yang can maintain his excellent performance in the second half, bring us more wonderful goals, and lead this team to the final!" 

"If they can do it, this will undoubtedly be one of the greatest moment in the history of Chinese football!" 

The referee signaled, and the second half began. 

China largely maintained their first-half strategy, but there were subtle adjustments. 

Yang Yang and Chen Tao had slightly different positioning, pushing higher when China had the ball. In response, Hao Junmin, Cui Peng, and Zhao Xuri in midfield also made slight tactical tweaks to support defensive stability while keeping an outlet for counterattacks. 

However, Brazil stuck to their game plan, continuing with the same slow, controlled buildup. They dictated possession, moving the ball patiently, probing for gaps in the Chinese defense. 

From the restart, Brazil immediately controlled possession, reclaiming their dominant rhythm. Their midfield dictated the tempo, forcing China to retreat deeper into their own half, setting up a compact defensive shape to absorb pressure and play on the counter. 

Despite Brazil's control, they struggled to create clear-cut chances. Their attacks were met with disciplined Chinese defending, forcing them into wide areas or low-percentage shots from distance. 

China's backline held firm. 

But with China sitting deep, attacking opportunities were limited. 

It wasn't until the 64th minute that China finally produced their first real attacking threat of the second half. 

Yang Yang, combining with Hao Junmin on the left, created a quick passing exchange that cut through Brazil's midfield. 

Hao Junmin, spotting a gap, delivered a precise pass to the edge of the penalty area. 

Zhao Xuri arrived on the run, setting himself for a first-time volley. 

The shot flew just wide of the post! 

"A great chance! Zhao Xuri's effort was not far off!" 

"China is finally showing their threat in attack!" 

But Brazil adjusted immediately. 

After that scare, they became more cautious, tightening their defensive structure and making sure China had no space to counterattack. 

Rather than forcing risky passes, Brazil leaned into their superior technical ability. Their midfielders used their individual skills and short passing to maintain possession, slowly working the ball around, trying to break China's defensive shape. 

With every pass, they sought to manipulate the Chinese defense, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. 

The Chinese team stayed disciplined, focusing entirely on defense, unwilling to take unnecessary risks. 

Recognizing the growing pressure, Krautzun made tactical substitutions, bringing in fresh legs to reinforce the midfield and defense. 

China's approach was clear—stay compact, stay patient, and wait for Brazil to make a mistake. 

The game remained locked in a tense tactical battle. 

The next goal—if it came—could decide everything.