For us, by an own goal. He desperately tries to convince his teammates that he isn’t a double agent, however they aren’t buying it for a second, as our fans are going mental. The captain, Marco Reus, retrieves the ball and sprints to midfield. Just seconds after the goal, the ball is played in, we’re sending everyone forward, only seconds left. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Die Taube appears. Everyone in the Stadion is shocked, everyone but one glorious Spanish conquistador, our own Paco Alcacer. Paco gets fouled at the edge of the area, by none other than Thorgan Hazard himself in the waning minutes of the match. Gladbach’s fans are furious. The air is still, our fans are silent out of pure terror and hopefulness. Could the be the year? Is this our final chance? Only one man has the answer. He steps up, the whistle blows. In this moment, seconds feel like hours. However, to Paco, this is the situation he’s been waiting for since Barcelona. He takes his trademark short run up, makes contact, narrowly missing the wall, the ball dips with such venom and power, it’s as if Messi himself transferred his power into Paco’s right boot. As we watch the ball in flight in this incredible moment of destiny, the back of the net ripples. He’s done it. We’ve won the ever elusive Meisterschale in epic fashion. You can hear the cries of agony all the way from Bavaria. At last, the camera points directly to the pigeon, the unsung hero of the season, and as if out of a movie, he gives a quick wink to the viewers at home and those at the stadium. The broadcast fades to black. It is finished. Heja BVB. God I hope this ages well...