Taylor Twellman couldn't believe his own ears. He had just completed his first season with the reserve team of 1860 Munich as the team's top scorer. Werner Lorant, the first team coach, praised his efforts. An invite to train with the big boys might be next – but instead came deflating words.

'''As soon as you turn 24, we'll be ready for you,''' Twellman recalls hearing. With his 21st birthday just around the corner, the news fell like a brick on the ebullient striker's outlook.

Until then, opportunities had come Twellman's way based solely on merit. When he scored goals, new doors opened. And he always scored goals. But this time a door was locked for other reasons. He did some checking and found out no player under 24 – German, American or otherwise – ever had appeared in a Bundesliga match for the club. Scoring more goals wouldn't help.

So Twellman decided to look elsewhere.

Thus, Twellman ultimately landed back on U.S. soil, having endured the rigors of pro soccer in Germany, but without enough of a resume to convince MLS officials that he was different than a prospect exiting college. The perception that he hadn't made it in Europe meant Twellman had to show scouts something special or drop to a level of regard lower than when he left the University of Maryland after 28 goals in two seasons. In the final match of a choking-hot Fort Lauderdale combine, Twellman netted three goals.

The New England Revolution picked Twellman second in the SuperDraft. Door opened. Twellman proceeded to carve out playing time within a logjam of talented forwards and, after eight games, sat second in MLS with seven goals, including at least one in six straight games, tying a league record. Door opened.

HARDENING LESSONS. The tribulations of two years in Germany did not leave Twellman embittered, but rather emboldened by the experience.

''The first few months were tough,'' Twellman says. ''I had to learn the language. You don't know what people think of you. The culture was different. You can't go to the grocery store on Sunday – everything is closed. You don't say 'hi' to people as you walk down the street. But it was all good for me. It came at a time when I needed to be humbled.''

Growing up in St. Louis, the son of Tim Twellman, a former NASL player, soccer came naturally to Twellman, as did other sports. In high school, he played varsity baseball (batting .450), basketball and football in addition to soccer (115 goals in four seasons). Baseball was his other passion, and he planned to play two sports at Maryland until Sigi Schmid took him as a late selection for the 1999 U-20 World Cup squad. He was third in scoring for that tournament with four goals. The world seemed his oyster.

But in Munich, early training sessions were interpreted for Twellman, and initially it was tough to tell if the translations were entirely accurate. Twellman was unable to utilize his sense of humor. He mostly felt like an outsider until two English-speaking teammates, Nils Richter and Benny Lauth, began teaching him German.

''The first couple times, I was just spitting all over the place,'' Twellman says.

At times, his jovial attitude and sense of humor were lost on the task-oriented Germans. He was played in many positions, but rarely at forward. Eventually, some things smoothed out. Teammates started listening to his music, asking him for St. Louis Rams apparrel, laughing at his jokes. The proper pro mentality also sank in over time.

His father remembers several overseas calls from his frustrated son.

''Those were difficult because we wanted to help,'' Tim Twellman says. ''At one point, he scored something like four games in a row, but then sat on the bench for three weeks. A bad practice Monday meant you were sitting on Saturday. He had to be on, seven days a week. That helped him a lot in his approach.''

It also helped him learn to take criticism, something he admittedly hadn't perfected in college.

''I think pre-Germany, I was always trying to please everyone – coaches, players – all the time, always thinking there's an answer to everything,'' Twellman says. ''Post-Germany, I understand what a professional is about. Sometimes there are no answers. … Are you going to let a coach tell you you're not good enough, or are you going to keep playing so that you can prove something? The key is being happy with yourself.''

A NEW START. That attitude served Twellman as he battled established MLS veterans Mamadou Diallo, Alex Pineda Chacon, Wolde Harris and Andy Williams for playing time. He grit his teeth entering as a sub in his first two games, then scored in his first start. From there the goals kept coming, in the same fashion they have throughout his career.

''If you notice, almost all of his goals are on one touch,'' says Sasho Cirovski, Twellman's coach at Maryland. ''He's not the kind of guy who's going to create his own goals, but he's terrific inside the box. … He's got great courage, great heading ability, and everything he does is based on putting himself in position to score. He sniffs out second balls; he reads the game well.''

Among his batch of goals were a header, a volley with each foot, a mini-breakaway and one he never even made contact with – game officials awarded him the goal after he disrupted Matt Jordan's concentration enough for the Dallas goalkeeper to deflect the ball in his own net.

''My philosophy is just get it on net,'' Twellman says. ''My biggest pet peeve is a ball over the crossbar. If you get it on target, you never know what might happen.''

The maturity gained in Germany also helped Twellman deal with the emotional, enigmatic Diallo.

''Taylor is getting so many chances because I open him these passes for him to score the goals,'' Diallo said a week before being dealt to the MetroStars. ''That's good for the team and good for him, but sometimes it's not good for me, because I need to score the goals. I am here and get paid to score the goals.''

Twellman shrugs his shoulders about Diallo's ways.

''I realized Mamadou's gonna play,'' Twellman says. ''It was up to me if I wanted to get along with him or let it bother me. … I listened to Mamadou when he talked to me and tried to fit my game with his, but if he liked me or not – I couldn't worry about that. If you worry about that stuff, it'll drive you nuts.''

According to Cirovski, Twellman has long been able to let small things roll off his back.

''He has no conscious about the previous missed chance,'' Cirovski says. ''He just gets on with the next one.''

Now he's beginning to apply that relentless optimism to long-term challenges. Those intangibles are not lost on new Revolution coach Steve Nicol.

''The first thing you notice about Taylor is his pure enthusiasm to play the game,'' Nicol says. ''He's got an eye for the goal – the boy can score – and he works hard, as well. It's been a fantastic start for him, but again, it's only a start. He's a young man at the beginning of his career and there's nothing sure; along the way there are pitfalls. I guess how he deals with those is going to be the making of him.''

by Soccer America Senior Editor Will Kuhns