Coaching Earthquake in Leverkusen – Why the Dismissal Was Inevitable

Two games, one point, pure chaos – and Erik ten Hag is already gone. If you know Bayer 04, you know we love to reinvent ourselves, sometimes faster than you can say “championship coach.” And yet, as much as I would have ranted about such an early sacking at first, it has become crystal clear: this one was inevitable.

The performances against Hoffenheim and Bremen weren’t just weak, they were alarming. No structure, no unity, no recognizable plan. Instead of a Werkself ready to build on past strengths, we saw a team stumbling aimlessly across the pitch. Captain Andrich nailed it after the 3-3 draw: “Everyone played for themselves.” That’s not “transition phase” talk – that’s a breakdown. And a club with Bayer’s ambitions simply can’t afford that, especially after the biggest squad overhaul in its history.

What’s truly remarkable: Simon Rolfes immediately stepped up, took the blame on his shoulders, and admitted that hiring ten Hag was a mistake. That kind of honesty is rare in football – and it actually makes Rolfes more likeable in this crisis. No excuses, no hiding, just straight talk. Exactly what you want from a sporting director when things go wrong.

Yes, it’s bitter. Yes, it feels insane to be searching for a new coach after just two matches. But anyone who watched the mess in Bremen knows: this wasn’t going to work out. Better to pull the plug now than lose sight of every goal in a few months’ time.

And us fans? Once again, we’re stuck in that eternal Bayer paradox: too smart to be naïve, too chaotic to ever have it easy. But let’s be honest – isn’t that exactly why we love this club?

How to Drop Two Points in Bremen While Playing with an Extra Man

There are football matches that leave you staring into your alcohol-free beer (seriously), wondering: What the hell just happened? Welcome to Bremen. Welcome to the 2025/26 Bundesliga season. Welcome to Bayer 04 Leverkusen – the club that somehow manages to make even a man-advantage feel like a liability in stoppage time.

And yet, it all started so beautifully. Nathan Tella, turbo-charged with Rhineland rocket fuel, tore through the Werder backline like a hot bratwurst knife through butter. He squared the ball to Schick, who finished like it was the easiest thing in the world. 1:0 after five minutes. Bremen still tying their boots. A dream start, we thought. Finally some positive vibes after that painful opening defeat to Hoffenheim.

But we Leverkusen fans know better. No match without drama. And given the football gods' well-documented love for last-minute chaos on the Weser, we feared the worst—even at 2:0.

Next up: Malik Tillman. Making his Bayer debut, the lad pulled off a piece of ball control that should earn him honorary circus status. Chest, shoulder, volley – goal. 2:0. Bremen reeling. The game looked locked up tighter than Boniface’s medical records.

Then, of course, came the penalty. Tape, full of eagerness and inexperience, clattered into his man. VAR didn’t miss it. Schmid converted. Bremen back in the match just before halftime. A groan rolled through the Leverkusen fan block. Not panic yet – just that familiar, sinking feeling.

Still, the second half kicked off with renewed hope. Schick stepped up for his second penalty of the day and slotted it home like it was a Thursday morning training session. Bremen down to ten men, Bayer back up by two goals. Surely this time, this time, we’d bring it home? But no. Of course not.

Suddenly, Flekken decided to role-play as Manuel Neuer’s evil twin, came flying out of his box, and got completely outsmarted by Schmidt, who made it 3:2. From then on, the chaos switch was flipped. Bremen smelled blood, our defense smelled confusion, and in minute 90+4, that man Coulibaly – yes, the same Coulibaly who served up the first goal with a horror pass – popped up in the right place at the wrong time (for us) and slammed the ball into the net. 3:3. Final whistle. Weserstadion in delirium. And us? Sitting there, stunned, blinking, trying to make sense of it all.

So what’s the takeaway here? Bayer 04 led twice, by two goals each time, and still didn’t win. Not because Bremen were world-beaters – but because we once again threw away control in the key moments. The build-up was slick, the goals were nice, Tillman impressed, Schick is back on the scoresheet... but the concentration? The killer instinct? Missing in action.

Maybe that’s the story of our summer under the Bayer Cross. Players out, players in, system still loading, team chemistry still buffering. Erik ten Hag was brought in to stabilise things, but right now, even a man-advantage feels more like a curse than a blessing.

Still, if you're looking for silver linings: Bayer are now unbeaten in 35 straight away games. Sounds like a record? Sure does. Does it feel like one? Not really. Especially when you’re letting 18-year-olds with redemption arcs break your heart in stoppage time.

Next up: Frankfurt at home, under the Friday night lights of the BayArena after the international break. Feels like the perfect time to actually start the season. And maybe, just maybe, win a match.

Ten Hag, Ten Hakt – Bayer Trips Over the Season’s Starting Line

Well, that’s just great. The new Bundesliga season kicks off and our boys are already flat on the ground. A 1:2 home defeat to Hoffenheim in the BayArena, and right on the Bundesliga debut of Erik ten Hag. All summer long we’ve been dreaming of a shiny new start, of controlled possession football à la Ajax and Manchester, and what do we get? Hoffenheim outplaying us, while we’re stuck sounding like a broken tuba in the school band.

And yet, it all began so beautifully: six minutes in, Grimaldo whips in one of his trademark magical left-footed balls, and newcomer Quansah heads in his very first Bundesliga goal. BayArena buzzing, fans grinning, and you’re thinking: “Yes, the Ten Hag era takes off like a rocket!” Well, turns out it was more like one of those cheap New Year’s fireworks that fizzles with a puff of smoke before it ever leaves the ground.

Because Hoffenheim simply did what we were supposed to be doing: brave, tidy football with just the right amount of cold-blooded finishing. Asllani made it 1:1, Lemperle scored the winner—both on debut, of course. Bayer: the club where opponents love to write their fairy tales.

And what did our lads offer in return? Patience, set pieces, and long-range shots. In other words: the football equivalent of hoping that your Ikea screws will tighten themselves if you stare at them long enough. Tella had one big chance late on, but instead of rattling the net, he rattled only the side netting. Perfect metaphor, really.

Of course, this is just matchday one. Nobody gets relegated after an opening-day loss, even if it feels like that in the stands. But you can already sense that this new Bayer style isn’t quite clicking yet. Ten Hag talks about processes, patience, and hard work. All fair enough—but as fans, we can’t help but wonder: why can’t processes just start with three points for once?

The truth is, this squad is still finding itself. Players out, players in, Boniface practically packing for Milan… it’s like building a puzzle with pieces from three different boxes. Trouble is, the Bundesliga doesn’t wait around until you’ve found the missing corner piece.

Next stop: Bremen, followed by Frankfurt. Not exactly the easiest places to rebuild confidence. But hey—this is Bayer 04. We can turn any situation into either a tragedy or a football fairy tale. Most of the time we choose the messy middle ground: maximum drama, minimum comfort.

So my verdict? Chalk this one up as an early stumble, keep the beers cold, and practice patience. Maybe this was just the classic opening-day tripwire—and maybe the rocket launch is simply delayed by a few weeks.

Bundesliga 2025/26 – The Never Champions (niemalsmeister) Season Forecast

The new Bundesliga season kicks off with everything we both love and hate: huge expectations, new coaches, ridiculous transfer sums, and the eternal question of whether Bayern will end up on top again. Leverkusen, under Erik ten Hag, is attempting a fresh start, Dortmund hired Kovac – a coach who prefers to bite his opponents rather than his own players – and Stuttgart must prove last year’s success wasn’t just a one-off accident. Add in two newly promoted clubs bringing their dose of chaos, plus relegation candidates already making themselves comfortable on the slippery slope. So yes, we’re in for another year of drama, surprises, and those moments where we ask ourselves: why do we put ourselves through this every season?

Top of the table: Title and Champions League

1. Bayern Munich
Bayern never lose their hunger for the title, and even when injuries pile up, their squad depth is simply overwhelming. With new talent and old routine, they’ll be top again – unless they invent one of those trademark internal crises.

2. Bayer Leverkusen
New coach, half the squad rebuilt – it smells like chaos, yet ten Hag brings structure and a clear plan. Not everything will run smoothly, but there’s enough quality to chase Bayern for a long time and finish second.

3. Borussia Dortmund
Kovac brings stability, and he does so faster than expected. The attack is dangerous, but Dortmund being Dortmund, they’ll still drop points where you least expect it.

4. Eintracht Frankfurt
Frankfurt keep pushing upwards and dream of the Champions League. Solid defense and clever transfers make them tough, but the final touch of consistency is missing for a title race.

Strong, but not elite: Europe League and beyond

5. RB Leipzig
Ole Werner adds some fresh ideas, though he’s not the most charismatic of coaches. Leipzig remain a talent factory with plenty of power, but nerves often fail when it matters most.

6. VfB Stuttgart
A true wildcard: on their good days they play champagne football, on their bad days they stumble over relegation candidates. Still, it’s enough for Europe – not without plenty of heart attacks though.

7. SC Freiburg
Streich has gone one year ago, but his system’s DNA lives on. Freiburg remain tough, smart, and annoying for every big club – just not quite strong enough for the top.

8. Mainz 05
A squad full of underestimated players that, together, achieve more than anyone expects. Safe mid-table, with the occasional European dream floating by.

The big midfield muddle

9. Borussia Mönchengladbach
Stabilized but not shining. The Foals remain unpredictable, yet the full potential still goes untapped.

10. Hamburger SV
The dinosaur is back, full of energy and early-season hype. Defensive cracks appear later, but they’ll secure survival comfortably.

11. 1. FC Köln
Promotion joy quickly turns into harsh reality. With fighting spirit, passionate fans, and a little luck, Cologne clinch a safe mid-table finish.

12. Werder Bremen
Solid, unspectacular football – perfect for switching channels during the conference broadcast. Far from the top, but safely away from relegation.

13. TSG Hoffenheim
Caught between ambition and reality: too strong for the bottom, too weak for the top. Once again stuck in the middle, and no one really knows the plan.

14. VfL Wolfsburg
A club with money, stadium, squad – but no soul. Survival secured only because others are worse off.

15. FC Augsburg
Sandro Wagner generates headlines if not always points. Plenty of grit keeps Augsburg in the league – another razor’s edge escape.
 

Bottom of the table: Relegation and drop

16. Union Berlin
After years of fairy tale football, the magic fades: too many changes, too little cohesion. Union face the relegation playoff and must fight for survival.

17. FC St. Pauli
Brave and likable, but not durable enough. The home games will be electric, yet away form kills them – relegation looms.

18. 1. FC Heidenheim
The second year after the miracle promotion is merciless. Passion and team spirit remain, but quality doesn’t – Heidenheim drop out.

Thunder, Mud, and Schick’s Head: Bayer 04 Wades into Round Two

Let’s be honest: when you draw a team like SG Sonnenhof Großaspach in the first round of the DFB-Pokal, you’re not exactly expecting Shakespeare. But what unfolded in the WIRmachenDRUCK Arena on a soaking Friday night was somewhere between Slapstick-Comedy, Survival Training, and the good old Pokal-Schule – where the football might be ugly, but the lessons stick. In the end, Bayer 04 passed the test. With wet socks, a couple of late goals, and that lovely smell of “okay, we didn’t embarrass ourselves.”

The evening began like any good Pokal tie in rural Baden-Württemberg: a scrappy underdog full of belief, a star-studded Bundesliga side trying not to fall asleep, and a stadium name that sounds more like a printer error than a football arena. Ten Hag’s new-look Werkself, sprinkled with fresh summer signings and a pinch of nervous energy, started like a team still looking for the on-switch.

Then came minute 18. Thunder. Lightning. Rain like the BayArena’s sprinklers had gone rogue. And while Großaspach’s grounds crew turned into besen-wielding Superhelden (heroes), both teams disappeared into the cabins, presumably to Google “Can footballs float?”

After a nearly 40-minute weather break and some quality drainage work with what looked like the janitor’s entire equipment closet, the game resumed – and with it, Bayer’s sense of purpose. Patrik Schick, calm as a Czech glacier, nodded in a perfect cross to make it 1–0. Relief. Not style, not dominance, but relief. The same Schick then casually cleared a Großaspach shot off the line a few minutes later, just to remind everyone that if he ever gets bored up front, he could always moonlight as a centre-back.

But despite the lead, this wasn’t a Werkself flexing its muscles. It was more a case of “slowly finding the toolbox.” Ten Hag’s debut in the dugout had moments of promise (looking at you, Maza and Poku), but also showed that even Bundesliga-Vizemeister struggle to control a soaked Pokal pitch against Regionalliga defenders on a mission.

Things turned when the home side decided to self-destruct. First, a second yellow for captain Celiktas (you could hear ten Hag whisper “danke schön” from the bench), then a flying tackle from Tasdelen that deserved both a red card and perhaps a personal apology to Axel Tape. And with two men up, Bayer finally did what Bayer does: punish, finish, move on.

Arthur slotted in the second after a lovely give-and-go with debutant Poku, Kofane made it three with the kind of cool finish that screams “I want more minutes, Coach,” and Grimaldo celebrated his 100th match by thumping home a penalty to seal the 4–0.

It looked routine on paper. But paper doesn’t show puddles, nor how often we misjudged Großaspach’s pressing traps. There’s still rust in this team, still a lot of moving parts – and let’s be fair, it’s August, we’ve all just come back from summer mode. But Pokal is about surviving. And survive we did, with a grin, a few sighs, and zero injuries (praise be).

So, dear Leverkusen faithful, let’s pack away the rain ponchos and prepare for real Bundesliga business next week against Hoffenheim. The road to Berlin has started – a bit splashy, a bit scrappy, but without a banana skin in sight. And when the heavens open again, we’ll know: Schick’s head is waterproof.

From Samba to Switch of Sides – Bayer 04 Kicks Off the New Season in Cup Mood

The summer break is over, the players’ and fans’ holidays are now just a distant memory, and in Leverkusen quite a lot has happened since. The preseason felt like a well-planned but not entirely bump-free road trip – with new faces, fresh ideas, and one clear goal: to build on past successes without slipping into routine. Today marks the first competitive game – DFB-Pokal away at Großaspach – and, as always, there’s that mix of anticipation, nervousness, and the nagging question: *“What if it goes wrong?”* But we are Bayer 04, and we’re not travelling to Aspach to admire the scenery. We’re going there to kick off the new season with a clear statement.

Coach Erik ten Hag made it clear early on that he’s not a fan of fairy-tale thinking. Asked whether he could lead Leverkusen straight to the top as if by magic, he replied dryly: *“Nobody is like Harry Potter.”* And while that honesty may not be as glamorous as a last-minute final goal, it brings a healthy dose of realism to a squad that has grown accustomed to high standards. The Dutchman knows that top-level football doesn’t happen at the snap of a finger – it takes work, patience, and the courage to try new things.

Preseason was far from dull. Alongside training sessions at home, one highlight stood out, and it had more to do with image than tactics: the Bayer 04 Brazil Tour. There, the team found not only Brazilian sunshine but also the country’s unique football passion – which is practically a currency of its own. Between media events, appearances by the club’s management and the coach, and test matches against youth sides like Flamengo’s U20, the trip was about more than just scoring goals. It was about presenting the club internationally, attracting new fans, and bringing home a little samba spirit.

Of course, there were the usual little hiccups that come with any preseason. Injuries and illnesses shuffled the deck: Alejandro Grimaldo had to take a break due to illness midweek, and Victor Boniface, one of the key hopes in attack, still isn’t at full fitness. That opens the door for others. New signing Ernest Poku could find himself in the starting XI sooner than expected. Fresh through the door, straight into the first competitive match – it’s like moving into a new flat and being asked to do the dishes on your very first night: a tough test, but a great chance to make an impression.

There’s also movement in the transfer market. Amine Adli may well make his final appearance in a Bayer shirt tonight before a potential move to Bournemouth in England. It’s the kind of farewell that’s bittersweet: a loss on the pitch, but probably a gain in the bank account. These stories are part of football, and sometimes a departure creates opportunities for others to step up.

Tonight’s opponents, SG Sonnenhof Großaspach, are no longer complete unknowns. The self-styled “village club” dominated the Oberliga Baden-Württemberg last season, winning an impressive 31 of 34 matches, taking the WFV Cup, and earning promotion to the Regionalliga. That doesn’t sound like pushovers – more like a side with real ambition, especially at home. Großaspach have prepared meticulously for this evening: shuttle buses from nearby Backnang, a pre-match party with DJ Kaba, and the biggest stadium choreography in the club’s history. This is not just football – it’s a village festival with a ball.

Everyone knows the roles: Bayer 04 arrive as overwhelming favourites, Großaspach as brave underdogs. But cup games have their own laws – and that’s the charm. For the home team, this is the match of the year; for Leverkusen, it’s the first step in a season that aims high again. For one side, it’s a stage to prove themselves; for the other, it’s a must-win occasion that can be anything – from a comfortable warm-up to a painful reminder that nothing in football is guaranteed.

The mood in the Leverkusen camp seems positive despite the little uncertainties. Ten Hag has tried out plenty in recent weeks, tested formations, and given the players clear ideas to work with. Even if not everything is running perfectly, the coach’s signature is already visible: more structure in build-up play, consistent pressing, and the aim to actually *do* something with the ball, not just keep it. Fans can expect a mix of disciplined organisation and bold attacking play – if the execution clicks tonight.

The setting in Aspach is ready, the players are focused, and the stage could hardly be better. A night cup tie under the floodlights, packed stands – this is football romance at its finest. It’s also the moment where a new cycle begins: the first competitive match under a new coach, with fresh ideas and a squad not yet set in stone. Every sprint, every tackle, every successful combination tonight will not only decide progression in the cup but also send a signal for the weeks ahead.

There are plenty of reasons for optimism. The squad has quality, the mix of experienced players and young talent looks right, and even though not all new arrivals are fully integrated yet, that leaves room for surprises. A successful cup night can boost confidence, lift the mood, and pave the way for a strong Bundesliga start.

Of course, Großaspach will do everything to derail that plan. With the momentum of an outstanding season behind them, home-field advantage, and the chance to test themselves against a Champions League side, they’ll put in a fighting performance. But it’s in exactly these games that the difference between an ambitious fourth-tier side and an established Bundesliga team shows. Leverkusen must bring their quality to the pitch from the very first minute – not arrogantly, but decisively.

For the fans, tonight is both a must-attend and a celebration. Those making the trip to Aspach won’t just watch the game – they’ll soak up the atmosphere, enjoy the occasion, and perhaps remember that these away days often provide the stories you still tell years later. Whether it ends in a comfortable 4–0 or a nail-biting 2–1 will matter less than the team and fans taking that first step into what everyone hopes will be a successful season together.

No matter the scoreline, the season already has a certain momentum. With a coach who has a clear vision, a flexible squad, and a club leadership that’s looking outward on the international stage, the signs point to progress. Tonight is the first test – and at the same time the opening chapter of many stories yet to be written. Perhaps not with a magic wand, but with hard work, team spirit, and the willingness to get your hands dirty when necessary.

So here we are, rolling into Großaspach tonight. Some call it a routine task. Others call it a cup adventure. For us, it’s both – and maybe a bit more. Because in every beginning lies the chance to start something great. Tonight, it begins.

The Never Champions Season Review 2024/25: Xabi Leaves, the Record Stands – and Sadly, the Ugly Salad Bowl Does Too

It all began in late summer 2024 with that queasy feeling every Bayer fan knows: optimistic anticipation laced with a cautious dread of the next drama. After more than a year without a Bundesliga defeat – 462 days unbeaten, just imagine that! – we secretly believed we were indestructible. Of course, typical Bayer that the very moment we got comfortable, the next slap was waiting. In early September, RB Leipzig came to town and ended our beautiful run in a match that was both theatre and tragedy. We led 2–1 at halftime, the BayArena was buzzing, everything smelled of the next triumph – until Kevin Kampl spoiled the party just before the break. What followed was a Leipzig onslaught and a 2–3 final score against us. That’s how quickly it can change: one moment you’re over the moon, the next you’re in the depths of despair. We fans took a big gulp of gallows humor and exchanged rueful grins with a resigned “Well, typical Bayer…” The first international break couldn’t have come at a better time—wounds needed licking, nerves needed settling.

But giving up was out of the question. Our Werkself bounced back from that setback with even more determination, as if Xabi Alonso himself had ordered a defiant counterreaction. In the league, we swept through autumn like a well-oiled machine. Win followed win, and whenever things got shaky, the boys always found a way. Eleven Bundesliga victories in a row eventually sat on our record – we pinched ourselves now and then to make sure it was really our Bayer 04 down there. Patrik Schick started banging goals in rapid succession again, making us almost forget how injury-prone he’d been at times. Florian Wirtz enchanted us week after week with dribbles that looked like moving works of art. Jeremie Frimpong raced up and down the wing like a Duracell bunny on espresso, and newcomers like the clever Aleix Garcia slotted into the ensemble seamlessly. At home in the BayArena, Bayer was almost unstoppable – and away? Away, we were becoming legends. Every foreign ground felt like our own living room. “Away is the new home,” we joked, as the Werkself set one away-game record after another.

Of course, not everything went smoothly, and some victories were tighter than we liked. Games like in December, where we scraped a nervy win, aged us like poorly stored Camembert. And in November, there was that day they showed us a lead is never a guarantee – we threw away points all too carelessly, much to our chagrin. But none of that changed the fact that Bayer 04 went into the winter break with a perfect record. Second place in the table, just behind Bayern, and the mood in Leverkusen swung somewhere between cautious dreaming and the quiet question: “Could we actually…?”

The drama really kicked into gear after the New Year. At the end of January, we faced that dreaded trip to Leipzig – and what can I say, it became yet another Bayer moment for the history books. On the fan bus to Saxony, we joked about why we put ourselves through this. The answer came straight on the pitch: because we love this team, even when it drives us mad. In Leipzig, our lads started like a fire brigade. Florian Wirtz weaved through their defense, Patrik Schick scored the opener, and Aleix Garcia even made it 2–0 – we rubbed our eyes in disbelief. Maybe, just maybe, we could do it this year? But as every Bayer fan knows: if you celebrate too early, it’s usually your own fault. Before the break, Leipzig pulled one back via a deflected free-kick and, suddenly, nerves were frayed. In my half-time pep talk, I whispered, “We’ve got this.” Mistake number one.

What came next felt like a creeping horror film. Leipzig kept battering us, but our Finnish rock Lukas Hradecky held firm at first. Wirtz, our little magician, rattled the woodwork more than once – as if competing in a personal aluminum-hitting contest. The clock ticked, Leipzig threw everything forward, and we defended with man and mouse. Then, in the 85th minute, disaster: a Leipzig free-kick swung in, Edmond Tapsoba met it with a header – unfortunately into our own net. Own goals are like heartbreak: you know they can happen, can’t change them, and they sting all the same. 2–2 – instead of an away win, only a point. I stood in the away end stunned, and as the Leipzigers celebrated, we realized: Bayern had once again pulled six points clear. The title dream we’d secretly held was abruptly out of reach. It felt as if fate whispered mockingly, “Don’t get your hopes up, you Leverkusen lot.”

But there was little time to brood, because big stages awaited on multiple fronts. In the Champions League, we had qualified convincingly for the last 16 – Bayer 04 in the knockout phase of the Champions League, that sounded like grand nights ahead. And then, as always, the draw pitted us against FC Bayern Munich in the round of 16. Of course. Who else? We fans took it with a pinch of irony: the record champions, as if the football gods wanted one more test. The first leg in Munich went badly, leaving us with a deficit for the second leg. But oh, the hopes were there: a magical night in a sold-out BayArena – just as we’d dreamed. The stadium trembled, we began like possessed. Bayer pressed high, pinned Bayern back. Schick had chances, Frimpong was everywhere, and Granit Xhaka doled out tackles like a carnival bouncer. For half an hour, we could almost smell a sensation – you could see Bayern wobbling. Maybe, just maybe, there was something in this?

Then came that moment. A lapse at a set piece – Bayern’s free-kick. And who was perfectly placed? Harry Kane, that goal magnet with an instinct for big moments. Boom – header, 0–1. Combined with the first-leg deficit, it felt like a cold shower after a raucous night: bitter, yet somehow predictable. That goal extinguished our last spark of a semifinal dream. The Werkself threw everything forward still, pumping every ball upfield – but when Alphonso Davies added a second, the game was done. Dream over. No magical night, no Leverkusen miracle. Instead, the sobering realization that we still fell short of Europe’s elite. It hurt. We’d so often proven we could beat anyone. We wanted it so badly. And deep down, we’d dreamed bigger than another round-of-16 exit. But: we are Bayer 04. We get back up, no matter how often we’re knocked down. The Champions League was gone, but the season wasn’t over!

Hardly had we digested that European exit than the DFB-Pokal beckoned – our remaining path to silverware. As cup holders (yes, we’d finally won something last year!), we marched through the rounds, and in the quarterfinals came the Rhine derby against 1. FC Köln. Oh, that evening… Matches against Köln are never for the faint-hearted, but this quarterfinal aged us by a decade. The atmosphere? Electric. The game? An emotional rollercoaster. Bayer dominated early, missed chances, and of course Köln struck first – a classic cup punch. Damion Downs scored for the Domstädter and the Köln fans partied. We Leverkusen fans felt that familiar flutter: would our cup dream end against our archrivals? But our Werkself answered with heart and fury. It swung back and forth, we equalized, took the lead – only to concede again. 2–2 after 90 minutes, extra time, pulse at 180. In the 98th minute the explosion: goal for Bayer! 3–2! Köln threw everything forward, even scored, but the VAR had no mercy: offside! When the whistle blew, we hugged each other, utterly drained and elated. Victory! Semifinal! What a night on the Rhine! The title defense lived on, and we’d shown Köln where the barrel gets its best juice. In that moment, we truly believed: Cup? Bayer can do that – maybe we’d keep this one, too!

Well… maybe. Or maybe not. Four weeks later came the season’s biggest blow, one that would haunt our nightmares: the Pokal semifinal at Bielefeld’s Almstadion. Third-division side versus Bundesliga leader – on paper, an easy win. But in the cup, other rules apply. Still, whatever happened that Tuesday in early April felt like a particularly cruel episode of “Gotcha!” for Bayer fans. Anyone there live probably wanted to switch off their phone after 30 minutes, throw their shirt straight into the wash, and pretend the game never happened. But that’s fan life – especially in Leverkusen.

It began according to plan, as if written for a comfortable victory: Jonathan Tah headed in from a corner for 1–0, and in the stands it was full Feierabendbier mode. Lead secured, all good—up to that point, you could snack on your bratwurst in peace. But that was the last moment Bayer truly controlled the match. What followed was collective head-shaking. Bielefeld pressed aggressively, our team suddenly looked clueless, and Xabi Alonso’s game plan seemed to have melted on that bumpy Alm turf. Long balls flew high as if we’d been beamed back to 2005 or caught in a monsoon. But on that field every high ball dropped like a wet sack – as effective as a vegan barbecue in a butcher shop. Combinations? Absent. Tempo? Only with the opponent. While we flailed away, Bielefeld did exactly what we’d wanted to do: play football. The Arminia combined, fought – and scored. Twice the net rippled for them, and paradoxically, each Bielefeld goal felt inevitable. Our defense became Swiss cheese, and up front we found no answer. Before we knew it, we were 1–2 down at halftime – Tah’s opener nothing more than a footnote, Bielefeld fans dreaming of Berlin, us standing like drenched rats.

In the second half we waited desperately for a late Bayer surge – but all that came were aimless crosses and a hopeless attempt to talk football gods into our favor by launching Tah as a makeshift striker. Sure, one shot clanged off the post, and Amine Adli forced a fine save, but the truth was: if you enter a cup semifinal against a third-division side with no plan for 45 minutes, you don’t deserve better. 1–2 – out, done, nowhere instead of Berlin. After the final whistle the players stood stone-faced before us in the away end. Granit Xhaka argued angrily with fans, heads hung, eyes vacant. This was more than a defeat – it felt like a deep stab in the heart of our season. A mental knockout leaving scars long after.

For us hardened supporters, it meant: slump, take a deep breath, and somehow carry on. Never give up, even when it hurts. The team vowed to double down in the league – salvage something from this season so it wouldn’t end in pure disappointment. And indeed, the Werkself responded in the final league sprint: character was needed now. But in the weeks after the cup exit, it was a rollercoaster of emotions. A few matches saw drawn-out stalemates, as if stuck in a time loop. A dreary 0–0 at home against Union Berlin felt like Groundhog Day – no win, just frustration. And before that, a dispiriting 0–2 loss to Bremen – a day nothing worked. Yet instead of burying their heads, they rallied once more. Xabi Alonso reminded the team of their qualities: stay calm, believe, press on.

At the end of April, just when everyone thought the air was out, Bayer 04 flipped a switch. Against Augsburg we witnessed one of those days when everything clicked: sunshine, cold beer in the cup, and a Werkself that shook off all the season’s frustration. 2–0 we won, casually and confidently, as if the collapse never happened. Schick scored early, Buendía curled a beauty into the top corner – pure popcorn cinema. While we celebrated, we knew: this win was more than three points, it was a statement. The Bayern fiesta would be postponed! Indeed, this victory prevented Munich from clinching the title early. “Mission accomplished – Rhine party crashers,” we laughed on the journey home. The lads had shown true character. And we fans thought: maybe this season can still end with a perfect finale? A glimmer of hope flickered – after all, you’ve got to keep dreaming.

But the third-to-last match in Freiburg finally ended our title hopes – but not before one last whirlwind of emotions. It was Jonathan Tah’s 400th appearance for Bayer 04, and what did our captain do? He wrote his own script. The game was a tough slog. Freiburg defended deep, we played tame possession football with no bite. In the pouring rain little happened – until a long-range shot from Freiburg’s Lennard Eggestein somehow found the net, our loanee keeper Matej Kovar looking unlucky. 0–1 down. And then – because misery loves company – Piero Hincapié deflected another ball into our own net. A slapstick own goal of the highest order that stopped every Bayer fan’s heart. 0–2! Against Freiburg of all teams! As the Breisgau fans dreamt of a sensational upset, we knew: one more dropped point here means the title for Bayern. You could practically sense the corks popping in Munich. Still – or perhaps because of that – our “now or never” mentality kicked in. Florian Wirtz took matters into his own hands, weaving through the Freiburg defense and unleashing a shot that thudded off the inside of the post and in. 1–2, twenty minutes to go. Suddenly that mad hope was back. The Bayer hope that never quite leaves you, even when reason says to give up.

And it happened: in stoppage time, one last corner for us, the ball swung in – and who rose highest? Jonathan Tah. With what I like to imagine was his farewell shoulder charge, he headed it over the line! 2–2! The stands went ballistic, we celebrated like champions. Tah had headed his way into our hearts, literally. Sure, objectively it was “just” a draw. Yes, that officially put the title out of our reach – Bayern stood unassailable and kept the ugly salad bowl. But who cares? In that moment only one thing mattered: 33 away games unbeaten! With that point in Freiburg, Bayer Leverkusen equaled Bayern’s decades-old away-record. Two entire Bundesliga seasons without an away defeat – let that sink in. If you can’t have the trophy, at least you have the record. “A record for eternity,” muttered one fan beside me, almost reconciled. We shrugged: that we handed Bayern the title? No big deal. They win it every year – but a record like this? That’s ours! Simply insane. Simply Bayer.

That set the stage for the penultimate matchday – a home game against Borussia Dortmund that held more emotion than sporting significance. Second place was secure, the championship decided, Dortmund still fought for a Champions League spot, but for us Leverkuseners it was all about saying farewell to two great club legends. Xabi Alonso and Jonathan Tah walked onto the home pitch for the last time in the Bayer shirt. The match itself? An afterthought. Yes, we lost 2–4 to BVB. Yes, we probably could—and should—have won – chances were there. But who cared on that Sunday? A hint of melancholy hung over the stadium, mixed with the scent of bratwurst and beer. Banners read “¡Gracias, Xabi!” and “Thanks, Jona!” As the two were honored before kickoff, even the steeliest Ultras had tears in their eyes. We all knew: two figures who shaped our Bayer heart were leaving.

Xabi Alonso – the maestro on the touchline who arrived when we were stuck in “meh” and “another coaching change?” and turned our gray mush into a Michelin-star menu. In a short time he molded the Werkself into one of Europe’s most stylish and successful sides. He may not have delivered the Meisterschale, but he left something far more precious: hope. Hope and pride in being a Bayer fan. Under Xabi we saw football that made us dream and finally felt like we could achieve something big. No wonder hundreds of scarves with his name waved as he climbed the fence, tapped his chest, and bid us farewell with shining eyes. Goosebumps all around – not just a coach leaving, but a friend.

And Jonathan Tah – our “Capitano,” our rock in the storm, ten years at the club through thick and thin. He embodied what it means to be a true Werkselfer: loyal, down-to-earth, always there when it mattered. A fitting farewell for a Bayer icon.

Final matchday in Mainz. Bayern crowned champions, Leverkusen runners-up. But Bayer 04 wouldn’t be Bayer 04 without a little drama. Three Mainz goals ruled out. Two penalties. A shaky draw. 2–2. And then: 34 away matches unbeaten. A record for eternity.

And so the 2024/25 season ends for Bayer 04 Leverkusen with second place in the Bundesliga, countless unforgettable stories, and that typically ironic Leverkusen conclusion: Had it all – except the Meisterschale. Again no league title. But honestly: who needs that ugly salad bowl every year when you get records, legendary matches, and magical moments on a silver platter? We laughed, cried, trembled, and rejoiced. We endured cup nights and dreamed Champions League dreams. We fell from the clouds and got right back up. At the end stands not just a solid table finish and an away record for the ages, but above all: the unshakable feeling that being a Bayer fan is a damn good time. Alonso goes, Tah goes – but the love for this crazy club remains. We found hope again, and around here, that’s a rare commodity. What remains of this season? No trophy. But pride. Joy. Hope. A team that grew. A club that won our hearts. A coach with style. A farewell that hurt. And a record that will last forever.