Prep For Germany

Los Angeles, United States Training Center

The sun dipped low over the practice fields as USMNT defenders and midfielders trickled off the grass, sweat-drenched and eager for recovery. In the center circle, Mauricio Pochettino and his coaching staff huddled, reviewing the day's video.

Poch's brow was furrowed. Too many players competing for three front-line spots: Christian Pulisic on the right, Gio Reyna out wide or through the middle, and the dynamic Weston McKennie lurking behind. It was a puzzle with precious little time to solve—tomorrow's friendly against Germany would be another test, and pressure was building.

"This is a statement match," Poch said, voice low but firm. "After Brazil, we need to show consistency. Germany won't make it easy."

Assistant coach Miguel nodded, scrolling through his tablet. "I've broken down their build-up—long diagonals from Kimmich, quick transitions from Musiala. We'll need pace and creativity up front."

Poch turned to John Hackworth, the technical coach. "What about Kai? He's clearly a game-changer, but we haven't given him the starting spot yet."

Hackworth hesitated. "Pulisic and Timmy [Weah] are established. But Kai's versatility… If we deploy him on the left wing, he can stretch them. Reyna as a false nine could pull their center-backs out of position."

Poch closed his eyes, weighing the options. Then he opened them decisively. "Let's do it. Pulisic on the right, Reyna in the hole, Kai on the left. Experiment in training this afternoon—if it clicks, that's our front three."

"Got it," Hackworth said, relief washing over his features.

Training Session

The scene shifted to Field 3. Cones formed gates in a 4–3–3 shape. Kai jogged onto the pitch, energy crackling through his fingertips. He exchanged a grin with Gio Reyna, who wore a playful smirk. Pulisic arrived with a wave to the strikers before slipping into position.

The drill commenced. Midfielders—Tyler Adams, Kellyn Acosta, Weston McKennie—cycled short passes, forcing the front three to move on the blind side. Kai hovered wide, poised to sprint into pockets of space. Reyna drifted centrally, angling for diagonal balls.

Adams played a lofted pass over the top. Kai surged, chesting it down before whipping a cross toward Reyna on the six-yard line. Reyna turned, shot—blocked. Pulisic pounced on the rebound, fired high. The staff applauded.

Now Reyna dropped deep, receiving the ball from Adams. He slid a pass into Kai's path. Kai cut inside two defenders, then released a low ball to Pulisic, whose finesse flick skidded wide.

The coaches were impressed and now it was the analysis on Germany.

Germany's takedown simulation: German relied on Kimmich's vertical runs and Wirtz's runs in behind. Kai Havertz tracked back, sprinted twenty yards to help the midfield at times, intercepting a pass and launching a counter. He carried it sixty yards, then squared to Wirtz. "What a deadly duo." Miguel muttered.

On the sidelines, Poch stood with Hackworth and Miguel looking over at the USMNT train while also glancing at the tablet that had Germany's previous game, silent intensity etched on their faces.

Hackworth: "They're clicking. Kai's movement is opening lanes for Reyna and Pulisic."

Wood: "We might have something here."

Poch exhaled, tension easing. "Alright. Let's fine-tune set pieces and defensive tracking, then wrap."

Kai jogged over, wiping sweat from his forehead. "How'd it look?" he asked, catching Poch's eye.

Pochettino allowed a small smile. "Promising. You'll start tomorrow. Get some rest."

Kai nodded, heart racing. He knew this start could define the campaign.

Press Conference

Later that evening, Kai sat at a long table flanked by Pulisic and Reyna. Cameras flashed. Journalists leaned forward.

Reporter 1: "Kai, after that goal against Brazil and an intense training session, you're making your first start. How do you feel?"

Kai exhaled slowly. "I'm honored. Coach has put his faith in me. I'll give everything to help the team."

Reporter 2: "Germany is dangerous—Wirtz, Musiala, and Adeyemi upfront. How will you adapt?"

Kai's gaze sharpened. "We studied their patterns. I'll maintain width to stretch their back four. If they press high, I drop in to create overloads. We have a plan but I can always switch it up, teams adapt and no one does it better than Germany."

Reporter 3—her tone softer but sharper—: "Off-field, many wonder… who are you dating? Daniela Melchior? Madison Morgan? The internet is full of speculation."

A hush fell. Kai blinked, eyebrows rising. He had anticipated questions about tactics, not his personal life.

He leaned forward, voice even: "Right now, I'm focused on football. That's my priority. Everything else… is private."

The room snapped photos. The reporter tried again, "But shouldn't the fans know who you're with?"

Kai shook his head. "I appreciate their interest, but my job here is to play. That's all I'll say."

The silence was absolute, then Poch quietly signaled the end of the session. Cameras went dark. From the wings, Sarah caught Kai's eye and gave him a thumbs up.

Dormitory, USMNT Center

Night had deepened when Kai slipped through the dorm entrance. The TV room was dim, adorned with gaming posters and a couch worn from team-bonding sessions. Gio Reyna was already there, controller in hand on the sofa.

"Yo," Kai said, dropping his duffel. "You mind a game?"

Reyna grinned. "Been waiting for you. Let's see if you're as good off the pitch."

They settled into a heated round of FIFA—Kai controlling Sporting Lisbon, Reyna on Barcelona—laughs echoing off the walls. Pulisic and McKennie popped in to reminisce about their own gaming prowess, high-fiving Kai after a slick virtual dribble.

Later, alone, Kai pulled out his phone. A message thread with Sarah and Kamie appeared:

Sarah: Tickets secured for tomorrow's match. Kamie will be there—surprise her with a goal :)

Kamie: I'm so excited. I'll cry when I see you play for the first time.

Kai: Thank you. Means everything.

He responded with a heart emoji, then set the phone aside. He couldn't sleep—not tonight. Germany awaited.

Matchday Eve

In the stillness, Kai lay awake on his bunk, ceiling lights muted. His mind replayed training, the press, the questions he deflected. He thought of Madison—her smile when he declined to reveal his love life, her courage after her own ordeal. He thought of Daniela—her unexpected cheer from the VIP box. And he thought of Tez, whose absence still ached, whose memory kept him driven.

He closed his eyes, mind settling on rehearsing runs, recalling the breakaway goal he'd scored against Brazil. Tomorrow, he'd carry that momentum onto the pitch again.

He fell asleep to the distant hum of the TV room and the quiet breathing of his teammates.