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.

Confetti, Headers, Reality Check

When it’s Carnival in Leverkusen and Bayer 04 scores three headers, you know the rules: we’re not just throwing sweets—our set pieces are flying like confetti.

This 4–0 against St. Pauli felt less like “nice home win” and more like the long-awaited “oh, there you are!” moment. Hjulmand had been missing exactly this blend: control, joy, and clarity. Suddenly we looked like a team that actually believes in its own plan again—moving the ball around as if we’d bought it in the club shop, and owning the air so completely St. Pauli might’ve needed an oxygen permit. Two headed goals in one minute, then another after the break: that’s not just efficiency, that’s a PowerPoint titled “Set Pieces Can Be Fun.”

And honestly, can we talk about our centre-backs? Quansah pops up early, Tapsoba adds one after half-time, and it’s become almost normal that our defenders contribute up front. Almost. Because when your CB is racking up goals and assists like loyalty points, something is going very right. Tapsoba apparently leading the “most direct goal involvements by a centre-back in the top five leagues” charts sounds like a Football Manager glitch—except it’s real, and it’s glorious. Also very Bayer 04 that even while celebrating we immediately whisper: “Please stay fit, please stay fit…”

Still, a 4–0 doesn’t erase what annoyed us in recent weeks. The inconsistency was real, the sense of inevitability wasn’t. That’s why this match matters—not because it’s St. Pauli, but because it’s us. It shows Hjulmand’s ideas can click even with a constantly reshuffled XI, new faces, and rotating line-ups.

Now the heavy weeks are coming: Olympiakos, then Union. And we all know Leverkusen in February can be either masterpiece or mild panic. But today? Fan goggles on, chest out—and please, keep this version. Preferably without the part where next week we’re guessing which Werkself is showing up.

One Point, Zero Buzz – When a Draw Feels Like Flat Soda

There are draws that feel like hard-earned progress, and then there are draws like this one in Mönchengladbach. On paper: unbeaten again, creeping into the top five, derby point secured. In reality: a nagging feeling that Bayer 04 left something important in the locker room – namely intensity, edge, and a sense of urgency before halftime.

This match wasn’t really about the 1:1, and it certainly wasn’t about goals or chances. It was about where this team currently stands in its development under Kasper Hjulmand. You can clearly see the idea: control the ball, dominate possession, dictate rhythm. Bayer 04 did all of that. What we didn’t do was hurt Gladbach with it. Possession without menace is just expensive cardio, and for 45 minutes that’s exactly what it looked like.

Gladbach played the role they love most against us: aggressive, compact, waiting for mistakes. And we obliged. The early goal conceded wasn’t bad luck, it was a symptom. Too casual, too clean, too convinced that structure alone would carry us through a derby away from home. It won’t. Not there. Not anywhere in the Bundesliga.

The second half was better, no doubt. More tempo, more presence, more of that Bayer 04 bite we expect. You could feel that the team wanted more, that the adjustments helped. But wanting more and actually forcing more are two different things. In the final third, we remained polite. And polite football rarely wins uncomfortable away games.

From a fan’s perspective, this draw is tolerable but telling. The team is clearly in transition, still learning how to balance control with aggression. The talent is there, the ceiling is high, but top teams don’t need 45 minutes to wake up. They impose themselves from minute one.

So yes, one point is one point. The streak lives on. But if Bayer 04 truly wants to stay among the league’s elite, these games need to feel less like lessons and more like statements. Otherwise, we’ll keep leaving stadiums thinking: fine result – but it should have been more.

Berlin’s Calling

It’s starting to get spooky. While elsewhere in Germany the DFB-Pokal still brings chaos, penalties, and accidental beer showers, our Werkself is treating this competition like a fine dining service: no frills, no fuss, but always three clean courses served on time. Against St. Pauli, the menu was clear: 3:0, another ticket to the semifinals, and not a bead of sweat wasted.

Let’s be fair – St. Pauli didn’t show up to just swap jerseys. They came with guts and grit, ready to throw punches. But facing Leverkusen’s defense these days is like trying to sneak into a nightclub guarded by a bouncer with a master’s in body language and a black belt in karate. Tapsoba? Clearing balls like he’s still mad about a missed train in Hamburg. And Andrich? Calm as a monk, aggressive as a caffeine-loaded lawnmower.

Then came the moment. Martin Terrier, who’s been flying under some radars lately, decided it was time to remind everyone he exists – with a stunning volley that screamed "yes, I *am* the man of the match." After that, it was textbook Werkself. Schick, who probably has a secret clause to only score important goals, added the second. And when Jonas Hofmann came off the bench and hammered in the third, it felt more like an exclamation mark than a goal.

By the way – that was already the fifth goal from a Leverkusen substitute in this Pokal run. If you’re wondering why we don’t panic when things get tight, just take a look at our bench. Other teams have backups. We have reinforcements.

Coach Hjulmand, as always, kept it cool. Berlin’s not booked yet, but the travel plans are clearly being drafted. His calm contrasts with the excitement we fans can’t quite hide. Because honestly, this team isn’t just good. It’s mature. It knows what it wants, how to get there – and, most importantly, that you don’t win anything by accident.

So no, we’re not dreaming. We’re just watching a team that’s finally playing like a serious contender. Keep pushing, boys. Keep grinding. And maybe, just maybe, this year the trip to Berlin ends with more than just a view of the Brandenburg Gate.

Colder Than the Stadium Sausage – Bayer 04 Win with Half the Effort

Well, who would’ve thought? Three wins in a row, a confident 3:1 away at Frankfurt, and all that with a performance that, at times, felt more like cruise control than high-speed football. But hey, when you’ve basically done your homework in the first 45 minutes, who are we to complain? At least not too much. Because what Bayer 04 showed in that opening half was exactly what we, as long-suffering fans, dream of: control, calmness, and cold-blooded efficiency. Two chances, two goals. A performance as sharp as the edge of a Bratwurst bun.

Arthur, usually more of a tactical workhorse than a goal threat, finally bagged his first Bundesliga goal. After 36 appearances, he found the back of the net – and maybe, just maybe, found himself a little more in this team. Let’s hope that wasn’t just a one-off highlight but the start of something more. Tillman followed up with his third goal in two matches – seriously, what did they feed him over the winter break? Whatever it was, pass it around.

Frankfurt, for their part, looked completely overwhelmed before the break, only to come roaring back like a typical home side in the second half. And Bayer? Well, we slipped into our familiar comfort zone: instead of killing the game off, we flirted with letting it slip. Same old Bayer, just with a better haircut.

Luckily for us, Frankfurt went down to ten men – thank you, Skhiri – and that took the edge off. But it still took until the 93rd minute for Garcia to finish things off, and that tells you everything about our second half: hesitant, wasteful, and a little too relaxed for comfort.

So yes, three points, a strong first half, and even the coach admitted the second 45 was... let’s say "suboptimal." But maybe that’s the good news: if the players themselves are already this self-critical, maybe we’re not just winning games – maybe we’re finally growing up as a team.

In short: this match was like a stadium sausage in winter – crispy on the outside, a bit too soft in the middle, but still exactly what you want when the scoreboard’s in your favor. And with three more points, it all tastes better anyway.