Schick Shock in Piraeus

There are European nights when Bayer 04 feel like that one friend who spends an hour making small talk before remembering he actually came for a date. For 60 minutes in Piraeus we’re knocking on the door—then standing there like we’ve forgotten the key to our own house of chances. And of course that unpleasant déjà vu from the league phase starts hovering over the Greek cauldron: “If you don’t score them at the front…” Yeah, we know. Next slide, please.

But here’s the difference: this time we’re not the well-behaved Werkself getting lulled by the noise, the press, and the stadium chaos. This time we have something that in Leverkusen has basically become a luxury problem: patience. You can call it boring, you can call it “growing up in the Champions League.” I call it: not completely losing our heads just because an away end is loud.

And then Patrik Schick happens. First, ice-cold on the counter. Then a header from a corner—144 seconds that feel like, “Oh right, scoring is allowed.” The little mini-plot with Grimaldo, basically arranging the short delivery in advance, is the perfect detail: while others are still debating whether you’re even allowed to train set pieces, Bayer 04 simply score from one. Shameless.

What still annoys me, though: we could’ve killed this tie earlier—and honestly, we should have. Maza off the bar, Poku wide, the usual “we’re creatively wasteful.” Olympiakos had already put a hand on the steering wheel with that disallowed goal. Knockout games punish every moment of carelessness—and sometimes every missed chance to make it comfortable.

Still: 2–0 away in Piraeus is a statement. Not the most glamorous one, but it smells like the last 16. Now please, in Berlin, don’t leave the batteries in the hotel again—and then let the BayArena do the finishing. First step done? Yes. But we all know it: Leverkusen can still trip over the final step while climbing the stairs.