Liverpool's 3–1 victory over Maccabi Haifa at Anfield finally ended their two-match losing streak. Yet, despite the much-needed win, the headlines the following morning were not about the goals or the tactics — they were about Yang Yang's injury.
Just ten minutes into the match, the young Chinese forward had scored a magnificent goal, cutting inside from the left before curling a right-footed strike into the far corner. But moments later, he went down clutching his leg, his face twisted in pain. The sight immediately dampened the atmosphere at Anfield.
At the post-match press conference, Rafael Benítez confirmed everyone's fears.
"At present, the preliminary assessment is that Yang Yang has suffered a muscle strain," he explained to reporters. "Whether there's a tear or not will require further medical tests."
The Spaniard refused to go into details, saying only that the medical staff were monitoring the situation closely. However, the local press was not content with vague reassurances. Within hours, the Liverpool Echo published an article suggesting that the injury might be linked to the club's training regime under Benítez's backroom staff.
The piece reminded readers that when Yang Yang joined Liverpool a month earlier, he had undergone a comprehensive medical evaluation at Melwood.
"After that examination," the report noted, "Liverpool officially announced that Yang Yang's fitness indicators were excellent — he was in peak physical condition. At just nineteen, his body was at its best. Yet, within only a month, he suffers a muscle strain? That raises serious questions."
The article continued with a pointed analysis:
"Everyone knows that while muscle strains and tears are common in football, they are often preventable. Such injuries usually stem from inadequate warm-ups, improper recovery routines, poor nutrition, or — most concerning of all — unreasonable training loads."
According to the Echo's investigation, Yang Yang's professionalism was beyond reproach.
"Our sources indicate that Yang Yang's life has been highly disciplined — home and training ground, nothing else. He rarely goes out, maintains a strict diet, and is known among teammates as one of the hardest-working players at the club."
If poor self-care could be ruled out, that left the training methods. The report alleged that Yang Yang had "repeatedly expressed concerns" about the physical training programs designed by Liverpool's fitness coach, Paco de Miguel.
De Miguel, only thirty-three, had joined Liverpool that summer after a brief stint at SD Eibar in Spain. His appointment had already surprised many within the English football community, and now the scrutiny was intensifying.
The Echo's article added that Yang Yang's case was not an isolated incident.
"During preseason, players such as Xabi Alonso, Mohamed Sissoko, and Daniel Agger also suffered muscular strains. Those injuries were largely dismissed at the time — until now. It's Yang Yang's €40 million price tag and his importance to the team that finally forced everyone to take notice."
The editorial closed on a grim observation:
"Such unprofessional lapses are not rare in English football. Even at top European clubs, the roles of fitness coaches and medical teams are often undermined by miscommunication or outdated practices. But for Liverpool, the priority now must be clear — identify the root cause and protect their most promising talent before it's too late."
...
...
When Pako Ayestarán hung up the phone with Liverpool's medical director, Mark Waller, he finally exhaled in relief.
"It's not serious," Waller had said from the hospital. "A muscle strain, no tear. He'll need at least two weeks of rest, maybe a little more, but there's no lasting damage."
That news lifted an enormous weight off Ayestarán's shoulders. Across the office, Rafael Benítez's usually stern expression softened for the first time that night.
Yang Yang's injury had shaken the entire club. Within an hour of the match ending, Liverpool's chief executive Rick Parry had personally called to ask for updates.
No one could blame him. A nineteen-year-old star signed for forty million euros and earning £120,000 a week was not just an athlete — he was a golden investment. Any injury to him could send shockwaves through the club's hierarchy.
Still, Benítez's relief quickly gave way to anger.
"Find out exactly what went wrong," he said coldly, pacing across the room.
When he had taken the Liverpool job, Benítez promised supporters that within three years, he would build a side capable of balancing attack and defense — a team that could compete with England's best. Yang Yang was a cornerstone of that vision. Losing him, even temporarily, was unacceptable.
Ayestarán consulted his notes.
"I checked carefully," he reported. "Yang Yang's diet is impeccable — no issue there. His warm-up before the match was thorough; Gerrard and the others were watching. The strain occurred during that sudden feint and cut inside — when he threw off the defender before striking. That explosive movement did it."
Benítez stopped pacing, frowning. "So… the training?"
Ayestarán hesitated before answering.
"Yang Yang has raised concerns about Paco de Miguel's methods before. He's not alone — Xabi Alonso and a few others have expressed similar doubts. They all feel that Paco's conditioning programs are… questionable."
Benítez sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. He remembered Yang Yang mentioning that his physique was already strong enough for the Premier League. The player had argued that while physical strength was important, it shouldn't come at the cost of speed, explosiveness, and flexibility. Benítez had agreed, and De Miguel had supposedly adjusted his plan accordingly.
Yet here they were.
Benítez had to admit he didn't know De Miguel deeply. The thirty-three-year-old Spaniard had only joined Liverpool that summer after a short spell at Eibar. He'd been hired mostly out of necessity — the club had struggled to find a replacement after Benítez dismissed the previous fitness coach for outdated methods.
But now, it seemed they had traded one problem for another.
People often spoke about the risks of player transfers, but few realized that hiring staff could be just as precarious. De Miguel's case was proof.
Benítez looked toward his assistant, his frustration barely hidden.
"Pako, what do you think?"
Ayestarán didn't hesitate.
"Paco de Miguel has lost the players' trust," he said bluntly.
Benítez closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. He understood exactly what that meant.
"Then we'll have to find a new fitness coach," he said finally, his voice calm but resolute. "And fast."
...
...
When Yang Yang walked slowly around the living room, supported by George Owen, he caught sight of Su Ye waiting nearby. Her eyes were red from crying, and the guilt in his heart deepened instantly.
"It's alright," he said softly, smiling to comfort her. "Just a slight strain — I'll be fine in a few days."
He reached out and gently patted her head.
Su Ye didn't answer; she only blinked and silently helped him to the sofa. Kneeling in front of him, she examined his right leg carefully, her hands hovering anxiously over the bandaged area as if afraid to touch it. She studied every inch, unwilling to overlook even the smallest detail.
Yang Yang chuckled lightly. "It's okay, really."
She finally nodded and stood up. Then, turning to George Owen, she began asking questions with meticulous concern — what kind of care he needed, what foods he should eat or avoid, how long recovery might take. Her tone was serious, her focus unwavering.
Yang Yang felt a warmth rise in his chest.
The feeling of being cared for… it's something you can't put into words.
After George Owen left, Su Ye returned to sit beside him on the sofa. "Do you want to rest a bit?" she asked gently.
Yang Yang shook his head. "No, bring me my phone, please."
Su Ye quickly fetched it and handed it to him. He scrolled through his contacts and called Winston Bogarde.
"Hey, buddy, what happened?" Bogarde's familiar voice came through immediately, filled with concern. "I heard you got injured?"
"Yeah," Yang Yang replied with a wry smile. "Bit of bad luck — muscle strain."
"Was it because you didn't warm up properly?"
"No."
"Then maybe the food in England? Still getting used to it?"
Yang Yang shook his head. "No problem there either. I've been eating at home — breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Su Ye adjusts everything according to the nutrition plan you made for me back in Amsterdam. My diet's been perfect."
"What about your sleep and routine?"
Yang Yang looked at Su Ye and thought for a moment. "Also normal. I'm in bed by ten, up at six. Eight hours of sleep every night, plus a one-hour nap at noon."
Bogarde hesitated. "That all sounds fine… so why the injury?"
Having worked closely with Yang Yang for two years at Ajax, he knew his habits well. The boy took impeccable care of his body — he never slacked off or took foolish risks. If he got hurt, something had gone wrong somewhere else.
"I think it's the training," Yang Yang said quietly.
"Training?"
"Yeah. Remember I told you about that thirty-three-year-old fitness coach they brought in? His name's Paco de Miguel. I've never been comfortable with his program. I asked for some adjustments, and he made a few, but it still doesn't feel right. Hard to explain, though."
"Alright," Bogarde replied quickly. "Let's switch to QQ — send me his training plan. I'll take a look."
Yang Yang nodded and hung up. He asked Su Ye to bring over his laptop, then logged into QQ. Within minutes, he sent the files to Bogarde in Beijing.
Professional players' bodies are like finely tuned instruments — even a minor imbalance shows up immediately. That's why good fitness coaches track their players constantly, adjusting workloads and recovery in real time. At Ajax, Bogarde had followed Yang Yang's progress daily, tailoring everything to his growth and physical feedback.
Paco de Miguel, by contrast, had barely checked in once since preseason. He never observed Yang Yang's sessions personally and rarely asked how he felt after training.
A few minutes later, Bogarde messaged back.
"The plan isn't terrible for older professionals," he wrote, "but it's not suited to someone your age. You're still nineteen — still developing. This program focuses too heavily on muscle strength. That'll hurt your speed, explosiveness, and flexibility over time."
Yang Yang frowned. "That makes sense. I've felt off lately — heavier, slower. I just couldn't pinpoint why."
"Then it's clear," Bogarde replied. "That coach is inexperienced — and, frankly, careless. Still, you probably pushed yourself too hard in the match. It happens."
Yang Yang gave a weary smile. "Yeah, that left-side move — it was instinctive. I couldn't afford to slow down in that moment."
Speed players like him were always at higher risk. The constant bursts, sharp changes of direction, and explosive sprints were punishing on muscles and joints. Chelsea's Dutch winger Arjen Robben was a textbook example — brilliant, but fragile.
"You were lucky," Bogarde continued. "It's just a mild strain. The key now is handling it properly so it doesn't become chronic. Remember Messi? He got injured twice last year — the second time came only two months after the first because the recovery wasn't handled right. The second tear was worse."
Yang Yang nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. I don't trust the staff here much anyway. Why don't you send Wei Zhen over from Beijing to help me recover?"
There was a short pause on the other end. Then Bogarde replied firmly,
"Alright. I'll make the arrangements."
...
...
Yang Yang was injured.
The news spread like wildfire, sparking a storm of reaction across the football world — especially in England. Within hours, every major British outlet had seized upon the story as if it were Christmas morning.
The Independent was first to break the news of Yang Yang's setback, and the paper wasted no time drawing parallels to Arjen Robben's injury-plagued years at Chelsea. In a tone that blended concern with skepticism, it warned readers that Yang Yang might "repeat the mistakes of the Dutch winger" — brilliant but fragile.
The article opened by contrasting the Eredivisie and the Premier League, suggesting that while Yang Yang thrived in the Netherlands, the English game's pace and intensity could expose his limits.
"There is no doubt he is working hard to integrate at Liverpool," the piece read, "but even the preseason friendlies seemed to test his limits. Now, in his very first competitive match, he's already been forced off injured."
The Independent continued:
"Everyone who has seen Arjen Robben at Chelsea knows his quality and explosiveness. Yet, in the past two seasons, Robben has spent nearly as much time in recovery as on the pitch — a worrying pattern for any speed-based winger. It is precisely this fragility that made José Mourinho push for Yang Yang's transfer."
"Liverpool's expectations are enormous. They paid forty million euros — the highest fee in the club's history — while Chelsea spent less than half that on Robben. The stakes, therefore, are far higher. Yang Yang must avoid falling into the same trap."
The article ended by quoting unnamed "insiders" who claimed that attacking wide players who rely heavily on bursts of pace were inherently prone to muscular injuries, particularly in the physically demanding Premier League.
The Daily Mail soon followed with its own editorial. It focused less on comparisons and more on Yang Yang's ability to adapt to English football.
"There is no doubt that in the Eredivisie he was a phenomenon — a relentless goalscorer who shattered the records of Ronaldo and Van Basten. He could score in every imaginable way: both feet, all angles, long-range strikes or close-range poaching. In Holland, he looked unstoppable."
"But that was in the Eredivisie!" the Mail cautioned. "History shows us the gulf between Dutch and English football. Many of Holland's so-called geniuses have failed here. The most recent example is Mateja Kezman — a star in the Netherlands, but a shadow in the Premier League."
The conclusion was brutal:
"It may be early days, but Yang Yang could well become the next Kezman."
The Manchester Evening News took a different tone — smug and almost gleeful. It suggested that Sir Alex Ferguson's decision to retain Cristiano Ronaldo instead of pursuing Yang Yang had been "a masterstroke."
"Ronaldo is already proven in the Premier League," the article read, "while Yang Yang still looks a long way off. He might have dominated in the Eredivisie, but this is England — the true proving ground."
Meanwhile, The Sun reprinted the Liverpool Echo's earlier analysis and added its own commentary. It acknowledged Liverpool's 3–1 victory over Maccabi Haifa but described it as "a win overshadowed by worry."
"There's no doubt Benítez's tactical blueprint places immense importance on Yang Yang — almost on par with captain Steven Gerrard. His preseason form was promising, but he has yet to reproduce the brilliance he showed at Ajax. Now, his injury casts fresh uncertainty over Liverpool's attack."
"With the team already shaken by two preseason defeats, this setback tests both Benítez's plans and Liverpool's morale."
Not all the press, however, were so pessimistic.
The Telegraph's veteran journalist Henry Winter wrote a more balanced column, quoting Liverpool legends Kenny Dalglish and Alan Hansen, both of whom voiced confidence in the young forward's recovery.
Dalglish told Winter over the phone:
"Yang Yang is the most important signing Liverpool have made this summer — maybe ever. His performances remind me of Ian Rush at his best."
Winter added a note of context for readers: Ian Rush remains Liverpool's all-time leading goalscorer.
Dalglish went on:
"Injuries are part of football, especially in the Premier League. What matters is the mentality. You have to face challenges head-on — this league rewards courage and punishes fear. If he stays brave, he'll come back stronger."
Alan Hansen shared that sentiment.
"I've spoken with people inside Liverpool," he told Winter. "Everyone believes Yang Yang's injury was just an unfortunate accident. The dressing room's united behind him — Benítez, the players, everyone. That kind of solidarity is what built Liverpool's tradition. He'll return soon, and I'm sure he'll prove himself again."
Finally, The Times published an exclusive interview with Benítez himself.
The Spanish manager admitted the injury had been "unexpected," but dismissed any suggestion that it would derail their season or alter the club's trust in their new star.
"Yang Yang is an important part of our project," Benítez said firmly. "We all believe in him. We'll support him through his recovery and wait for his return. He'll be crucial to our ambitions this year."
...
...
The outside media had turned the situation into chaos. Speculation, rumors, and wild theories filled every headline.
Yang Yang had caught wind of the reports, but early the next morning, he still made his way to Melwood accompanied by George Owen.
Along the drive, Owen tried to keep his spirits up.
"Everyone at the club still believes in you," he assured him. "Don't pay attention to what's written outside. They'll move on soon enough."
Then, he added a piece of news that caught Yang Yang completely off guard.
"By the way… the coaching staff dismissed Paco de Miguel yesterday."
Yang Yang turned in surprise. "They did?"
Owen nodded. "Yes. It was a unanimous decision. The players welcomed it too — they all felt it was for the best."
Yang Yang fell silent, staring out the window. Professional football was ruthless — not only for players but for coaches and staff as well. Paco de Miguel was young, enthusiastic even, but clearly out of his depth. From Yang Yang's brief experience working with him, it was obvious the man lacked the subtle understanding required for top-level conditioning. His dismissal was inevitable.
When they arrived at Melwood, the atmosphere was unexpectedly warm. As soon as Yang Yang entered, several teammates came over to greet him. Gerrard, Alonso, and Sissoko all patted his shoulder with encouraging smiles.
"Take it easy, mate," Gerrard said. "We're all waiting for you to come back."
The sincerity in their words touched him deeply. For the first time since the injury, he felt truly at ease.
After a brief chat with the players, Yang Yang asked George Owen to accompany him first to the team's office, then to Benítez's private office. Inside, both Benítez and Pako Ayestarán were waiting.
As soon as Yang Yang stepped in, the two Spaniards stood up to greet him.
"How's the leg?" Benítez asked, his tone full of concern.
"It's fine now," Yang Yang replied with a polite smile.
They already knew the medical details — the strain wasn't serious — but both men were more concerned about his confidence. They assured him that he needn't worry, that full recovery was only a matter of time.
Benítez then spoke carefully.
"Although we won't announce it publicly, Paco de Miguel will bear responsibility for what happened. We're already searching for a more experienced fitness coach. In the meantime, Pako here will personally oversee your rehabilitation."
Yang Yang nodded appreciatively. He had always respected Ayestarán's professionalism — the assistant coach's knowledge of fitness and tactical preparation was excellent. Still, he hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Coach," he began, "I have someone I'd like to involve in my recovery — my personal trainer, Winston Bogarde. He's worked with me for two years and knows my body very well. I promise he'll coordinate completely with the club's staff. And of course, I'll cover all the expenses myself."
It was an unusual but not unreasonable request. Many elite players worked with private trainers, sometimes even trusting them more than club staff.
Benítez and Ayestarán exchanged a brief glance, quietly weighing the idea. With the fitness department now short-staffed, involving Bogarde might actually help rather than hinder.
After a moment, Benítez nodded.
"Alright, I agree to your request," he said firmly.
Relief washed over Yang Yang's face. Having Bogarde involved gave him reassurance — a familiar presence to guide him through recovery.
Noticing his calm expression, Ayestarán smiled and shifted the conversation.
"You'll soon learn that the British press is… special," he said with a hint of humor. "They love to build stars up — and then tear them down. Every paper here has its own loyalties. The Telegraph and The Times lean toward Liverpool, The Daily Mail favors Chelsea, and The Independent… well, they're Arsenal through and through."
Yang Yang couldn't help but laugh. "That explains why the Independent managed to criticize me and Robben in the same article."
"Exactly," Ayestarán chuckled. "Once you understand that, you'll know which papers to ignore."
It all made sense now. The Manchester Evening News, of course, served United supporters; their mockery was predictable. Each outlet catered to its own audience — objectivity was never really the goal.
Even so, the club's media department treated public opinion seriously. To balance the narrative, Liverpool arranged for Yang Yang to appear on the club's official television channel for a short interview — his first public appearance since the injury.
When the cameras rolled, Yang Yang sat upright, smiling with quiet determination.
"How many goals did last season's Premier League top scorer have?" he asked with a grin.
The reporter replied instantly, "Thierry Henry — twenty-five goals for Arsenal."
Yang Yang nodded. "Alright then," he said confidently. "That's my target for this season."