Nine men, two free kicks, and a debut to remember
Chaos, nerves, and two moments of left‑foot magic. On a night when discipline wobbled and the clock wouldn’t stop, Bayer Leverkusen gave their new coach Kasper Hjulmand a statement win, beating Eintracht Frankfurt 3-1 at the BayArena despite finishing with nine players.
The match had bite from the opening whistle, and Alejandro Grimaldo set the tone. Ten minutes in, he bent a free kick around the wall and into the bottom corner, the kind of clean contact that makes a crowd hold its breath before it roars. It wasn’t a fluke, either. When Leverkusen needed a closer, he delivered again deep in stoppage time, curling another set piece past a helpless goalkeeper to shut the door.
Before that late dagger, the points looked in reach but far from safe. The hosts had doubled their lead right on the edge of halftime, when Patrik Schick buried a penalty in the fourth minute of added time. Nathan Tella’s burst into the box drew a foul from Robin Koch, and Schick did what he does: low, firm, no fuss.
Frankfurt weren’t folding. They arrived with two wins from two and the confidence that goes with it. Early in the second half, Turkey midfielder Can Uzun cut the deficit with a rocket from the edge of the area after a corner broke loose. It flew into the top corner and flipped the mood instantly. Leverkusen’s comfort vanished. Frankfurt sensed the wobble and pushed the line higher.
Then came the twist that turned a tense game into a survival test. Captain Robert Andrich, already on a booking, mistimed a challenge near midfield in the 59th minute and saw a second yellow. The hosts had to grind through more than half an hour down a man, with Frankfurt swarming the flanks and peppering the area with crosses.
Hjulmand’s team adjusted on the fly. The line dropped, the wingers tucked in, and Schick became a lonely reference point up front. The work was ugly: blocks, clearances, and the goalkeeper strong on high balls. Even so, Leverkusen still found a gasp of threat in transition and on dead balls. Defender Nnamdi Collins rattled the crossbar with a late effort, a reminder that Frankfurt’s back line was living a little dangerously.
The final act was even wilder. Deep into stoppage time, Ezequiel Fernández also received a second yellow for a reckless tackle, leaving Leverkusen with nine. The BayArena went quiet for a beat, the math grim and the clock hardly moving. Then came the release: another foul conceded on the edge, another Grimaldo free kick, and the same fluent swing of his left boot. The ball arced and dipped into the corner in the eighth minute of added time, and the noise returned as relief turned into celebration.
For Hjulmand, appointed on Monday after the club cut ties with Erik ten Hag following two tough league outings, it was a turbulent first week ending with exactly the jolt he needed. The Dane kept his touchline energy high but his team compact, leaning on set pieces, quick counters, and a tight central block once the red cards hit. It wasn’t pretty; it was effective.
Grimaldo’s night will get the headlines, and fair enough: two free kicks to bookend a debut win is rare. But there were smaller moments that mattered. Tella’s direct running kept Frankfurt honest and earned the first-half penalty. Schick’s hold‑up play bought time when Leverkusen were under siege. The center-backs held position instead of chasing shadows. In stoppage time, when panic is the usual choice, they chose shape.
Frankfurt’s part in this shouldn’t be ignored. They carried the form that produced early wins over Bremen and Hoffenheim and controlled long stretches after the break. Uzun was lively between the lines, and the visitors consistently found space out wide. What they lacked was the final pass and, when the chance came, the cold edge. The late concession—another costly foul just outside the box—will sting on the ride home.
The officiating set a strict tone, and both dismissals came from second yellows rather than straight reds. That matters for what comes next. Leverkusen will still be annoyed at the situation they created—two sendings‑off in one match is an avoidable headache—but the bans will be shorter than if tempers had truly snapped.
Beyond the adrenaline, the game hinted at Hjulmand’s early fingerprints. There was a clear plan to funnel Frankfurt into crowded central spaces, then spring forward quickly. Set‑piece detail, a staple of the Dane’s work with Denmark, was obvious in the movement around Grimaldo and the screens that opened his angles. Even with nine, the team shape didn’t unravel. That kind of collective discipline is usually hard to teach in a week.
There’s also the mental side. Leverkusen’s first two league games left nerves jangling. A night like this can flip a dressing room. Players remember the scramble blocks, the bruises, and the roar when the second free kick went in. Coaches remember who held their line and who lost it. Hjulmand now has the footage—and the leverage—to set standards.
What the result means
The table is young, but the swing matters. Leverkusen move to four points from three matches, which feels different from the two they might have had without Grimaldo’s late winner. Frankfurt stay on six, still well placed but reminded how thin margins are when you give up cheap fouls in prime territory.
For Leverkusen, the checklist is mixed: three goals and a clear set‑piece threat on the plus side; two red cards and a long, tiring finish on the minus. The staff will love the resilience and hate the risk. Expect focus on game management and discipline this week, because you can’t count on wonder free kicks to save you every time.
For Frankfurt, the performance wasn’t a collapse. They created pressure and found a high‑quality goal from Uzun. But the killer pass and the late‑game poise were missing. The early-season momentum is intact, yet this was a lesson in what happens when you chase in straight lines against a compact block and give an elite dead‑ball taker two looks.
Hjulmand, meanwhile, gets a first win that will play well with supporters and buy time for his ideas to bed in. Nights like this leave a footprint. The new coach has a platform, the players have belief, and the BayArena has a game it won’t forget anytime soon.
