Chapter Four: Allianz Arena

From a distance, gazing at the Allianz Arena, Mo Mo felt a surge of awe—this was the most unique stadium he had ever seen, without exception. The stadium’s surface was composed of transparent, diamond-shaped membrane structures that shimmered in the sunlight, creating a magical, almost otherworldly visual effect.

At night, the arena transformed, its exterior glowing in shifting hues of red and blue—mirroring the colors of Bayern Munich and Munich 1860—thanks to intricate lighting. Majestic in scale, the stadium could accommodate sixty-six thousand spectators for a single match. Even the locker rooms were the most exquisite Mo Mo had ever encountered. On this occasion, Munich 1860’s home ground was packed to capacity; even in later years, when Munich 1860 fought for Bundesliga survival, as many as sixty thousand fans would come to support them.

Munich 1860’s home kit featured blue and white vertical stripes, reminiscent of Argentina’s national jersey. In 2002, their away kit was pure white. In truth, were it not for the blue in Munich 1860’s colors, their kit would be nearly indistinguishable from Bayern Munich’s. The teams’ names were similar, they shared the same city and stadium, and even their uniforms were alike. Rather than sworn rivals, Mo Mo felt they resembled brothers.

The atmosphere in Munich 1860’s home stadium was electrifying. Every seat was filled with supporters clad in the home kit, waving flags bearing the club crest, creating a sea of blue and white, with the green pitch at its center like an isolated island.

In Rostock’s 4-4-1-1 formation, there was a player, number 30, Wobeck, who, like Mo Mo, was making his Bundesliga debut. At twenty-one, he had spent years in the second team playing regional leagues, and only got his chance due to an injury to Swedish striker number 10, Arvidsson.

Among the remaining lineup, three players stood out as threats: Swedish midfielder number 8, Lantz, and the national team defenders, number 3, Jakobsson, and number 6, Kienzl.

Munich 1860 deployed a 4-1-2-1-2 formation. Shao Jiayi did not start but sat on the bench. Mo Mo’s strike partner was veteran number 9, Martin Max, while the attacking midfielder, number 10, Thomas Häßler, had shown excellent chemistry with them in training matches.

Though Thomas Häßler was already thirty-six, his organizational play was the best Mo Mo had ever experienced in a teammate. More endearingly, Häßler stood at only 166 centimeters, four centimeters shorter than Mo Mo himself, which made Mo Mo feel an unexpected closeness.

Mo Mo’s relationships with most of the other players weren’t particularly warm—except for goalkeeper Simon Jentsch, who got along well with Shao Jiayi and, by extension, with Mo Mo. Jentsch was a towering keeper at 196 centimeters, but his playful spirit belied his imposing frame.

Simon Jentsch’s favorite pastime during warm-up runs was to deliberately stomp into any puddle he spotted by the pitch, splashing mud all over his teammates, then bursting into laughter as he jogged on. His antics lightened the mood during training, infecting the team with his cheerfulness.

This time, the defense consisted of number 44, Hofmann; number 5, Votava; number 13, Cerny or number 24, Ellis—a back four. Mo Mo wore number 28, which, added together, made ten. For over half a century, Munich 1860 had lived in the shadow of their city brothers, Bayern Munich, always seen as the weaker side of Munich. Though dubbed “The Lions,” this team had long struggled against its fate, yet change remained elusive.

Munich 1860’s attack was quite strong—they had scored fifty-nine goals the previous season, an impressive tally. If only their defense had been a bit more robust, they might have challenged for the top six. Unfortunately, the new season saw a significant talent drain—key players like Tapalovic and Bierofka departed, weakening the squad, and suitable replacements were hard to find.

If not for the signings of Mo Mo, Shao Jiayi, and others, the team’s average age would have reached twenty-eight, with the oldest, midfielder Kurz, already thirty-five. In this sense, Mo Mo’s arrival represented an invaluable step toward rejuvenating the squad.

“Hello to all the viewers in front of your TVs! Welcome to the Bundesliga commentary sponsored by Xinyuan Motors—‘Chinese in the Bundesliga.’ I’m your familiar host, Chen Nu! Today, I’ll be bringing you live coverage of Munich 1860 versus Rostock in the opening round of the Bundesliga.”

Xinyuan Motors, the sponsor who had supported Shao Jiayi’s move to the Bundesliga, had sent its boss, Gong Daxing, to Munich. After securing a five-year deal for LIQUIMOLY motor oil’s distribution rights in China with the club’s shirt sponsor, he decided to boost his brand’s impact by sponsoring Chen Nu’s commentary. Rumor had it he was also keen on signing the young international Mo Mo and was negotiating with Mo Mo’s agent, Mino Raiola, though Raiola appeared less than enthusiastic.

“The teams are coming onto the field. It seems there are Chinese fans in the stands today—we can see a grand Chinese flag unfurled in one corner. For this match, number 28, Mo Mo, starts, while Shao Jiayi is on the bench. We’re eager to witness Mo Mo’s brilliance!”

Chen Nu’s voice brimmed with excitement. The Bundesliga—finally! After Frankfurt’s Yang Chen dropped to the second division, Chinese players had been absent from the top flight for two whole years. Munich 1860’s coach, Pacult, observed the pitch intently from the touchline.

“The match has officially begun! Munich 1860 kicks off. Number 9, Martin Max, passes to number 28, Mo Mo, who lays it off to number 10, Thomas Häßler. Häßler with a long ball! Who’s the target? Mo Mo!! Mo Mo is making a forward run! This is a great chance!”

As the match began, number 9, Martin Max, passed the ball to Mo Mo, who steadied it before being pressed by Rostock’s number 30, Wobeck. Mo Mo flicked the ball with his heel to Thomas Häßler and immediately sprinted forward.

Häßler advanced slowly with the ball toward the wing, drawing the defenders’ attention. Then, with a powerful kick, he sent the ball deep into the attacking third, perfectly placing it beyond Rostock’s back line, just outside the box and right in Mo Mo’s path.

It was perfect! Mo Mo’s first impression was pure comfort—no need to slow down, no need to check his surroundings. The ball was right ahead; all he needed to do was keep running and reach it before the defender. Could there be anything better?

“Mo Mo and number 3, Jakobsson, are racing for the ball! Jakobsson’s turning speed just isn’t enough—Mo Mo overtakes him! One-on-one! Yes, it’s a one-on-one with the keeper!”

The Allianz Arena erupted. Munich 1860’s fans, already aware of their new Chinese striker, had not expected such a powerful impact so quickly. They roared and shouted his name, whether surname or given name first no longer mattered—MOMO.

Munich 1860’s coach Pacult was thoroughly pleased with Mo Mo’s breakthrough—excellent positioning, tactical awareness, and movement. This was exactly what the team needed.

Mo Mo’s gaze was unwavering as he crossed the edge of the penalty area. Jakobsson was desperately chasing him down from behind, gasping for air. Number 6, Kienzl, was closing in from Mo Mo’s left, while the goalkeeper crouched in focus—it was a moment for heroes or scapegoats.

Would the Lions of Munich 1860 finally roar again?

Who could still call Munich 1860 an “old men’s team,” when they had the prodigious seventeen-year-old Mo Mo leading the line?

In the next instant, it seemed as if the roar of a lion echoed through the stadium! Could the former East German powerhouse rise to glory once more?