Bayer Crashes Leipzig’s Holiday Mood

What makes for a perfect end to the year? A bit of drama, a few comeback stories, a teenage wonderkid – and, of course, three points snatched from Leipzig. Bayer 04 delivered all of that on Saturday night, handing RB Leipzig their first home defeat of the Bundesliga season – gift-wrapped, but tied with a red-and-black ribbon. Anyone who thought we’d be sipping mulled wine and coasting after the derby win over Köln clearly doesn’t know this team. What unfolded on the pitch at the Red Bull Arena wasn’t football on cruise control – it was a full-blown holiday feast.

Sure, the game didn’t start out all that festive. Xaver Schlager scored, and for a moment, the ghosts of early-season wobbles made a brief appearance. But then came the fireworks: Terrier with a picture-perfect header, Schick with a rocket of a right-footed finish that would’ve made even Berbatov raise an eyebrow. Just like that, we went into halftime leading 2-1. Leipzig looked rattled, like kids who’ve just discovered there’s no PlayStation under the tree.

But the real goosebump moment came late – very late – courtesy of Montrell Culbreath. Just 18 years old, with the composure of a seasoned pro, he danced through Leipzig’s defense like it was a casual kickabout in Wiesdorf, and coolly buried the 3-1 in the 97th minute. A full debut goal? Yes. A statement? Absolutely. Forget festive miracles – this was cold-blooded brilliance.

Now we go into the winter break third in the table with 29 points. Back in September, that might’ve sounded like drunken optimism at a Christmas market. But this team has earned every bit of it – not just the points, but credibility. Hjulmand’s fingerprints are all over this side, even if the starting eleven changes more often than TV channels over the holidays. Add to that the feel-good return of Fernández, Tape, and Vázquez – it’s like getting snow on Christmas Eve.

So what’s next? A breather. Some cookies. A bit of holiday magic. And then it’s back to business against Stuttgart – another top clash, another stage. But until then, let’s enjoy this moment, because something about this team just feels *right*. And yes, Christmas does look good in red and black.

No Doubt, No Noise, No Problem – Bayer Cruise to a Well-Deserved Derby Win

Ah, derbies. The kind of matches where your pulse races, beer prices skyrocket, and emotions boil over the fastest. Only this time… it was quiet. Unusually quiet. The Rhine derby against FC Cologne felt less like fireworks and more like a cosy night by the fireplace – featuring a very artistic firestarter named Martin Terrier. If you score a scorpion kick to make it 1–0, it’s pretty clear you're done with boring goals – and honestly, fair enough!

But let’s start from the top – even though there’s not all that much to tell. Bayer pressed, Cologne staggered, yet somehow it was still 0–0 at halftime. Kofane missed, Andrich headed wide, and Tillman briefly seemed to believe that football goals are located somewhere above the net. It all looked decent enough, but not exactly derby fire. And in the stands? Drought. Cologne’s active fan scene boycotted the match due to alleged police measures – and Leverkusen’s ultras walked out in solidarity.

On the pitch, though, there was quite a bit of actual football happening. Terrier came on and scored a goal even Zlatan would struggle to dream up, and Andrich – now our libero of hearts – nodded in the 2–0 like a true leader. That was that. Game over, Kölsch going flat, and Cologne completely done.

Coach Hjulmand deserves a special shoutout – at this point, he could probably sub in the winning lottery numbers. Terrier as a joker? A masterstroke with French flair. And the fact that Robert Andrich is calling the shots both at the back and up front might just be the best Christmas gift since canned beer on an away trip.

Bottom line: three points, two wondergoals.

So, here we are – still floating around in table-heaven, Terrier clearly wants more minutes, Andrich remains captain on the pitch and in our hearts – and Leipzig awaits for the final match of the year. Maybe even with Grimaldo and Schick.

Grimaldo Claus and the Art of Late Surprises

Sometimes football feels like an advent calendar—each match a new door, with the hope that behind it isn’t another disappointing chocolate in the shape of a Premier League ego. But behold, on matchday six of the Champions League, Bayer 04 didn’t find a lump of coal from Newcastle, but a sweet, late gift courtesy of (who else?) Alejandro Grimaldo. A 2-2 draw that didn’t just salvage a point—it salvaged belief, pride, and maybe a bit of our festive spirit too.

Let’s be honest: the first half looked like a carefully crafted tactical masterclass. Controlled, sharp, and with Newcastle looking more like a mid-table Bundesliga side trying to figure out how offside works. The opener—an own goal induced by the eternal chaos-bringer Robert Andrich—felt like justice being served with a side of irony. For 45 minutes, we had the game in our grip. Then, like clockwork, football did what it does best: throw a wrench into our collective joy.

A soft penalty, a VAR decision that felt like it was made by someone on autopilot, and suddenly the game turned. Newcastle’s equaliser came too easily, and when the second goal followed, you could feel that all-too-familiar Werkself-Wahnsinn creeping in. Would this be another tragic chapter in our European misadventures?

But no. Not this time. Not under the December lights of the BayArena. With head coach Kasper Hjulmand absent and his assistant Rogier Meijer leading from the sideline, the team didn’t collapse. They pushed. They ran. They believed. And in the 88th minute, just when resignation was settling in, Grimaldo did what Grimaldo does: appear out of nowhere, latch onto a sublime Maza pass, and bury the equaliser like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Sure, there’s stuff to nitpick. Defensive lapses, lost control after the break, missed chances. But this isn’t about perfection—it’s about progress. About a team that doesn’t crumble, even when it’s wobbling. About a club that once made “never master” its identity, now finally acting like it wants to change that narrative.

Next up: the derby against Cologne. No Christmas miracle required there—just the same grit, the same belief, and maybe, just maybe, another late Grimaldo moment to keep the dream alive.

Posts, Possession, and Pain

There are games where, after the final whistle, all you can do is stare into the night sky and wonder if someone up there is holding a giant magnet over the crossbar. A 0–2 loss in Augsburg, despite 70% possession, three shots off the woodwork, and enough dominance to make a chess grandmaster blush – but as we all know, football doesn’t reward style points. It rewards goals. And that’s where our beloved Werkself came up painfully short.

We knew it wouldn’t be a walk in the park. Augsburg, that gritty mix of cinder block defense and lightning-fast counters, has a history of ruining weekends. But when you control the game like we did, when you dictate every tempo change and pass the ball around with surgical precision – you’d hope for more than a goose egg on the scoreboard. Sadly, precision without punch is like bringing a scalpel to a street fight.

Let’s be clear – the performance wasn’t bad. If you're a fan of data and heatmaps, this was your jam. Pass accuracy in the 90s, a dominant duel ratio, and a shot count that would usually result in two or three goals. But instead of finding the net, we found the frame. Repeatedly. Schick, Ben Seghir, Tella – all with chances that deserved better. If hitting the post earned points, we’d be top of the league by now.

Coach Hjulmand, ever the calm Scandinavian, talked about “getting back to the character of our game.” Which sounds like something from a TED Talk, but maybe there’s truth in it. Because if we’re honest, things looked a bit off already in the last games. That slick cup win in Dortmund might’ve masked some cracks. Against a side like Augsburg, those cracks became visible – especially in defense, where one long ball equals one goal conceded.

Now we face Newcastle, Köln, and Leipzig to close out the year – and suddenly the margin for error is gone. We need to turn our woodwork waltz into a goal fest, or risk undoing much of the great work from earlier in the season. Augsburg was a stumble, not a collapse. But let’s not pretend it was just bad luck. Sometimes the football gods test your focus. Let’s hope our answer in the coming weeks is loud, precise – and finally on target.

Groundhog Day, but Make It Pokal: Revenge Served Werkself-Style

Well, there we go! While Dortmund are still scratching their heads wondering whether to defend against us with a bus or a bulldozer, our Werkself have made it into the DFB-Pokal quarterfinals for the third year in a row – a new club record. Maybe it’s that mythical Pokal DNA, or maybe it’s just solid footballing grit, sprinkled with a bit of Maza magic and the simple truth: you don’t win beauty contests in Dortmund – you win points. Or cup rounds.

If you were expecting a footballing firework show – something like a Grimaldo cross volleyed home by Tapsoba – you might have been a bit underwhelmed. But what we got was a team as solid as a vault. Not the local savings bank, but Fort Knox. Robert Andrich, reimagined as a libero with leadership swagger, cleaned up like he was getting free beer for every successful tackle. And as for the VAR cancelling Terrier’s would-be second goal – well, football’s not a wish concert, it’s an offside trap.

Revenge for the league defeat just three days earlier? Oh yes, and then some. Winning in Dortmund is never a given – not for the national team, and definitely not for clubs without the black-and-yellow referee bonus. But on this cold December night, Bayer 04 did what we fans have been begging for: grind out a dirty win, don’t crumble under pressure. And with Maza, we seem to have someone emerging who doesn’t just score goals but has his heart in the right place – somewhere between midfield and the penalty box, right where it hurts.

Sure, we’re far from done. Augsburg, Newcastle, the derby, Leipzig – December’s no walk in the park. More like a barbed-wire marathon. But if you march into Dortmund with your head held high, sweat three litres, grab a goal, and walk out with 7,000 ecstatic away fans behind you, then you’re allowed to say: We are Bayer 04 – and this year, the cup just might go red and black again.

Just one thing: cup or no cup – can we finally start beating Dortmund regularly? There’s hardly anything sweeter.