There are dreary relegation six-pointers and then there are games like this, where the two teams at the bottom are so desperate for a lifeline, you can smell the flop sweat through your TV. Heidenheim hosting Werder Bremen at the Voith-Arena isn’t just a match, it’s the football equivalent of two guys fighting over the last slice of pizza at 2am—nobody’s walking away full, but one of them’s definitely going to wind up hungry and embarrassed. This isn’t Real versus Barca, this is a late-season episode of Survivor where everyone’s sunburnt, paranoid, and ready to eat the bugs just to stick around one more week.

On the surface, Bremen have a slight whiff of “established survivor” about them. Sure, they’re only in 12th, but they’ve shown just enough to make you think, “Maybe they don’t get voted off the island—yet.” With 7 points from 6 matches, they’re that awkward sitcom character who’s not good enough for a spinoff but keeps hanging around because the writers like them. You wanna write them off after dropping a 0-4 horror show at Bayern and being rolled at home by Freiburg, but then they drop a four-spot on Gladbach and edge St. Pauli 1-0. Shaky, sure, but at least you can see a pulse.

Heidenheim aren’t just on the ropes—they’re the guy in Rocky II who’s not sure if he’s in a boxing match or just wandered into traffic. Five losses from six, a scant three points, and goals coming at about the same rate as a new season of True Detective. Their form chart looks like the downward slope on your 401(k) in 2008: LLLWL. Even their solitary win—squeaking past Augsburg—felt like someone winning the lottery, then immediately losing the ticket. They aren’t technically dead, but the priest is definitely thumbing through his notes.

Here’s where things get juicy. The Bundesliga, and life, sometimes rewards reckless hope. Remember when Rudy stepped on the field at Notre Dame and you could practically hear the swelling music? That’s what Heidenheim are banking on—some scriptwriter giving them a montage moment at home. The Voith-Arena isn’t exactly Anfield, but when you’re at the bottom, you turn up the volume however you can.

Let’s talk players, because if this game is going to get off the floor, a couple of guys have to drag it there. For Heidenheim, it’s Mikkel Kaufmann and Sirlord Conteh—great name, by the way; sounds like a villain in an ‘80s Bond movie—who finally scored in that Augsburg win. Adam Kölle popped up with a late goal at Hamburg, but honestly, their attack has been so blunt it feels like watching someone try to cut steak with a spoon. They need goals, they need chaos, and they need someone—anyone—to do something that gets the crowd believing again.

Bremen, meanwhile, are leaning hard on Samuel Mbangula, who hit early against St. Pauli and got them off to the perfect start. He’s their North Star right now. Romano Schmid and Jens Stage have chipped in, but it’s the pace and directness of Bremen’s front three that could really expose Heidenheim’s back line, which, let’s face it, has resembled the cast of Stranger Things trying to close the Upside Down: lots of effort, but evil keeps leaking through.

Tactics? This has the makings of a scrappy brawl, not chess. Heidenheim will likely barricade the penalty box, look to hit long to the quick guys—Conteh, Kaufmann—and pray for defensive mistakes. Bremen, on their day, can play some ball—but when they start slow, they just let teams bully them off their rhythm. If Bremen score early, it could unravel fast for Heidenheim. But if it stays tight, nerves and desperation turn this into a street fight. Who wants it less? Who’s going to make the crucial mistake? This is classic relegation theater.

What’s really at stake? Dignity, first and foremost. Heidenheim lose, and suddenly you’re glancing at the historical tables, remembering how often teams who are glued to the bottom after seven games wind up packing their bags by May. Bremen lose, and a couple more bad results puts them right in the muck with them. No one’s playing for the Champions League, but survival football has its own perverse magic. Think Walter White in Season 4: not exactly king of the world, but definitely still in the game.

In the end, survival is about moments. This isn’t the match you clear your calendar for, but sometimes the greatest stories aren’t at the top—they’re at the bottom, where the stakes are raw and the nerves are exposed. Don’t sleep on Heidenheim-Bremen. It may not be pretty, but it matters. And sometimes, as in every great comeback movie you grew up loving, that’s enough to make the popcorn—and the hope—last a little longer.