The next morning, Mateo stood on the edge of the first-team pitch once again —but this time, the atmosphere was different.
Sharper.Hungrier.
Today wasn't just training drills.Today was a full practice match: First Team Starters vs Reserves.
Coach Kompany gathered them all in a semicircle.
"Today," he said, voice carrying clearly,"we simulate a real match.Intensity must be at one hundred percent."
"Starters — treat it seriously."
"Reserves — fight for your lives."
There were chuckles, but everyone understood:Respect isn't given at Bayern. It's earned.
Mateo had been assigned to the Reserves team.He wasn't surprised — it was natural.
He stood among a mixture of second-team players, young prospects, and some recent promotions.
Across the field, the First Team Starters looked like a wall of champions:
Neuer.Kimmich.Goretzka.Musiala.Sané.Kane.
Names that could crush teams by reputation alone.
As the teams broke off for warm-ups, Mateo felt a tap on his shoulder.
Turning, he found himself face to face with a smiling Thomas Müller.
The veteran attacker grinned broadly.
"Relax, Junge," Müller said in his cheerful, Bavarian-accented German."Boy, you're about to have the time of your life."
Mateo laughed nervously, nodding.
He had watched Müller play in World Cups, Champions League finals.
Now Müller was joking with him like they were teammates.
The world was crazy sometimes.
The whistle blew.
The match began.
At first, the difference was overwhelming.
The starters moved with an almost mechanical precision —closing spaces, pressing high, attacking ruthlessly.
Within ten minutes, the Reserves were pinned back into their half.
Mateo barely touched the ball.
He chased.Pressed.Defended.
But Bayern's first team was a machine built to dominate.
It would have been easy to shrink.
To hide.
But Mateo remembered Kompany's words: "Fight for your life."
And so — he fought.
Harder.
Smarter.
Waiting for the smallest cracks to appear.
Finally, a moment came.
Kimmich tried a risky forward pass.One of Mateo's teammates intercepted, quickly laying it off toward him.
The ball bounced loose into space.
Mateo sprinted.
Upamecano closed fast —but Mateo's Explosive First Step activated instinctively.
A sudden burst of speed —and he was past him.
One touch.Two touches.
He was running at Neuer.
A world-class goalkeeper, narrowing the angle.
Mateo didn't panic.
He remembered all those lonely hours training.
He feinted left —then slipped a pass sideways toward a teammate arriving late.
A simple tap-in.
Goal.
Silence.
Then cheers — even from the staff.
One goal back for the Reserves.
But more importantly —everyone saw it.
Müller jogged up, grinning widely, patting Mateo hard on the back.
"Jetzt reden wir!""Now we're talking!" he said, laughing.
"You've got some magic in those feet, kid!"
From that moment, something shifted.
The Reserves found new courage.
They pressed harder.
They attacked wider.
And Mateo?
He started to dance.
Quick dribbles.Sharp passes.Relentless movement.
He didn't dominate —not yet —but he belonged.
And the players saw it.
After the match (which ended 3-2 for the Starters), Kompany blew the final whistle.
The players shook hands, sweaty but smiling.
Müller walked over to Mateo, throwing an arm around his shoulders casually.
"You," he said, "are going to give us a lot of headaches —but the good kind."
He laughed heartily, squeezing Mateo's shoulder.
"Keep working hard. Bayern eats talent for breakfast — but it rewards warriors."
Mateo nodded, feeling the words etch themselves deep inside his soul.
He was no longer just a guest.
No longer a promising prospect.
He was one of them now.
And his journey was only just beginning.