The training session was winding down, but Pascal Groß was still at it—rehearsing corners, placing balls with surgical care into the six-yard box like he was solving a puzzle only he could see.

From the bench, a younger player watched, awestruck.

"Don’t you ever get tired of doing the same drill?" he asked.

Pascal turned, wiping sweat from his brow, a faint grin forming. "It’s not about repetition," he said. "It’s about reliability. One day, in the 89th minute, that cross might win us the match."

He looked back at the corner flag and struck another ball—curling, teasing, perfect.

In a team of flashy moves and risky flair, Pascal was the steady hand. The chess player in a game often played like poker.