Kai Havertz: From Budapest Pain to Islington Celebration

Kai Havertz remembers the dissonance first. The numbness in Budapest, the roar in Islington. Within 24 hours he lived both.

He had scored early in the Champions League final against Paris Saint-Germain, a goal that looked destined to crown Arsenal as champions of Europe. Then came the collapse, the anguish, the hollow walk past a trophy they felt should have been theirs.

And yet, the next afternoon, he was expected to stand on an open-top bus and smile.

“To be honest, it was tough,” he says. “After the match, I initially thought we would call the whole thing off.”

The idea of waving from a parade after a defeat like that felt absurd. Then morning came, and with it a different clarity.

From Budapest pain to Islington catharsis

The bus rolled out anyway. The streets of north London were flooded with red, a city spilling out to salute a team that had finally dragged Arsenal back to the summit of English football. Premier League champions after 22 years. That demanded a celebration, whatever Budapest had taken away.

“We had a huge season behind us,” Havertz says. “The club had gone 22 years without a league title so that had to be celebrated properly with the fans. I have to say I’ve never experienced anything like it. So many people on the streets, so many supporting us. It ranks among my top three experiences as a professional.”

The Champions League wound still stung, but the parade became something else: a release, a reckoning, a reminder that a season is more than one night. Now he is chasing another entry in that personal top three.

This time, in German white.

A different Germany, a different Havertz

Havertz speaks from Germany’s World Cup base in Winston, North Carolina, where the mood is lighter than in any recent tournament. The scars of 2018 and 2022, when Germany crashed out at the group stage, have not vanished, but they no longer define the room. Group E is already won. The first hurdle, for once, has not tripped them.

“Qatar was anything but successful for us as a team and for me personally,” he says. “There’s a different energy in our squad now. I was quickly convinced that things would go better this year. We knew we had a duty not to fail early on again. We are Germany. But now the tournament is really just beginning.”

Nobody at the Graylyn Estate, the grand, castle-like base, is pretending Curaçao and Côte d’Ivoire were heavyweight scalps. Yet 42 shots across two games suggest something important: Germany are playing with freedom again.

“We radiate a real joy in playing,” Havertz says. “We move a lot, play offensively and create scoring chances. And we bounce back after conceding goals.”

He scored twice against Curaçao, a penalty and a deft late chip, nudging his international tally to 24 goals in 60 caps. At 27, he is Nagelsmann’s starting centre-forward, the reference point in a team still being fine-tuned. Deniz Undav’s brace off the bench against Côte d’Ivoire has prompted calls for a change, but Havertz knows this story. In Germany, his work often goes unseen until it explodes on the biggest stage.

The ghost in the penalty area

“Probably because I don’t play in the Bundesliga,” he says. “It was the same at times with Toni Kroos and Ilkay Gündogan, who were abroad for years. It is often said about me: ‘Havertz didn’t score again, he’s useless!’. And when I do score, they say: ‘Well, he’s supposed to, it’s about time!’ I don’t hold it against anyone; that’s perfectly normal.”

He says it without bitterness. Havertz has always been slightly out of step with the caricatures that follow him. He is not the snarling No 9, not the showman No 10. He is something in between: a gliding, ghosting presence who arrives where defenders least expect him.

“Defenders should never know where I am, where I’m going, what I’m planning, or where I’ll be at any given moment,” he says in an interview arranged with Die Zeit. “That’s the worst for them. I try to be like a ghost to defenders.”

It suits his managers. Mikel Arteta has built entire game plans around Havertz’s unselfish movement, his willingness to occupy uncomfortable spaces, his patience in the shadows.

“I can’t just wait around in the penalty area, I need to be involved,” Havertz says. “I also make runs which I know sometimes look pointless, but I’m creating space for the players coming up behind me.”

His career has been a lesson in adaptability. Winger at first, then midfielder, then false nine, then outright striker. At Bayer Leverkusen, Peter Bosz pushed him up front; Nagelsmann once started him at left-back in a friendly against Turkey. Havertz scored after five minutes.

“If he were to ask me to do it again, I would,” he says. No fuss, no drama, just the job.

Misread body language, real tension

That unfussy exterior has often been mistaken for indifference. The way he jogs rather than storms, the calm face, the measured gestures: to some, it looks too relaxed.

“I’m aware of the debates that I’m too laid back or my body language is wrong,” he says. “That always comes up when I’m not playing well. But I’m not the sort of person who dwells on it too much. It used to be different. I don’t brood on things any more.”

Inside, though, the pulse races.

“I know it doesn’t show from the outside, but I feel it,” he says. “Before a Champions League final, or at a World Cup. Or before penalties. I need that tension to stay focused.”

That instinct, that ability to narrow his world to one moment, might be what Germany need now. The build-up to this World Cup came with doubts, injuries, tactical reshuffles, the looming spectre of a possible last-16 meeting with France. Havertz himself has come through a rough stretch: knee surgery early in the season, then a hamstring problem in 2024-25. The fact he still delivered for Arsenal underlines how much he played through.

“The last year and a half has gone badly for me,” he says, bluntly. All the more reason to see this tournament as a reset.

Lessons from Leverkusen to North America

Havertz has felt a home crowd’s surge before. At Euro 2024, Germany rode a wave of emotion only to be knocked out by Spain in the quarter-finals. This World Cup, spread across North America, feels even louder to him.

“The atmosphere is amazing. I was really excited before the Euros in Germany, too. A World Cup is even bigger. There’s incredible energy in the stadiums.”

Heat has not yet been his enemy. Germany have played in Toronto and in an air-conditioned arena in Houston, conditions that have spared them the worst of the climate. So when Fifa’s hydration breaks interrupt the rhythm, he is not exactly grateful.

“They’re usually annoying, especially when you’ve just had two or three good situations and feel your flow is being interrupted,” he says. “But others decide that.”

What he can decide is how long this run lasts. That, he knows, comes down to more than talent. When he was 17 at Leverkusen, on the cusp of the first team, he wanted to leave school and skip the Abitur, Germany’s university entrance exam. Football felt enough. One staff member refused to let it slide, framing it as a test of his resolve.

“At 17, you don’t think you need school any more,” Havertz says. “At that age, you also don’t think about injuries or how things can suddenly take a completely different turn. It was a life lesson for me: seeing things through to the end instead of just quitting.”

Now the stakes are higher, the stage bigger, but the principle is the same. Finish what you start. See it through.

Germany have their ghost in the box, fit again, restless, and staring at another shot at history. How far can he take them this time?