Starting -4
“···.”
“···.”
Coach Tony and Coach Luca locked eyes.
Both with their heads in their hands.
And their expressions were truly a sight to behold.
Their eyes were wide as if they might pop out, their mouths hung open as if their jaws might dislocate.
A brief silence.
Coach Luca was the first to snap out of the shock.
“Phewww—”
Grimacing, Coach Luca flailed his hands wildly. A gesture unique to Italians. Interpreted in Korean, it meant *that’s sick*.
And they were his favorite pair of underwear, too···
“*Ahem.*”
Coach Tony also came to his senses a beat late and deliberately composed his expression. As if to say he’d expected something like this.
As if he’d put him in the starting lineup because he’d known this would happen.
Honestly, though, he couldn’t hide his surprise.
“How many meters··· did he break through alone?”
“Almost forty, fifty meters or so?”
It was an insane goal.
He’d received the ball in the midfield, turned with a crisp one-two pass, and while maintaining his speed, shook off one defender with a delicate dribble before driving into the box with a daring breakthrough, shaking the net with an accurate and powerful shot.
It meant he’d sprinted half the pitch alone and scored.
You could tell by the expressions on those Napoli kids right now. Probably no one had even imagined anyone would attempt something like that. That must be why their reactions were so slow.
Honestly, we hadn’t expected it on our side either, so it wasn’t their fault.
“Even without the goal, I think I could’ve given him an 8 rating. But if he goes and scores a goal like this on top of that, what is he trying to do? Huh?”
“What is he trying to do? He’s telling us to hand-wash our underwear today.”
“Ha, seriously. Looks like the kid figured it out mid-match. ‘Huh? This is doable? Let me just try it!’ And then, boom. Over.”
His face flushed, Coach Luca kicked up a fuss, and Coach Tony chuckled and nodded along.
Before the match, and even when it had started,
Ijian had looked quite nervous.
And he had every reason to be.
His first start since transferring teams.
And the opponent was Napoli, no less.
It was a situation where even kids who played every week would feel nervous; how much more so for Ijian?
But as the match went on, he must have realized.
He knew the opponent was Napoli, and he knew Napoli was a good team, but···
It still felt doable.
Why?
Because he was executing on the field the exact same plays he’d done in training, and Napoli couldn’t stop him.
*Huh? I can do what I want?*
The moment he realized that, he must have instinctively felt it.
That he could afford to be bold.
And the result was that king, god, crazy, fantastic goal.
“Gives me chills.”
Coach Tony shuddered. What was the greatest thrill a coach, a leader of even a single individual, could feel? Without a doubt, it was watching his player grow in real time.
That was exactly what was happening now.
Ijian was a genius. But he himself didn’t know it. No, perhaps he wanted to pretend he didn’t. That was just the kind of kid he was. His environment had made him that way.
And yet, that kid had shown a play that seemed to say he believed in himself.
“This is the kind of emotion only youth football can bring.”
This was why being a youth manager was appealing. This was the only place where you could see your disciples growing day by day.
Was that all? Being able to witness the birth of a star before anyone else was also a privilege exclusive to youth managers. When everyone later went wild asking where such a genius had come from, it would be quite fun to boast that you’d known all along.
“Didn’t you say it last time? That you’re looking forward to a year from now.”
“Huh? Ah, yes, I did say that.”
“We might not even need to wait a year.”
“Yes. Let me correct myself. I’m looking forward to next week. Next week.”
Coach Luca and Coach Tony looked at Ijian and shook their heads.
The insane talent that had hidden itself away was stretching its limbs. The desire to show that talent to the world as soon as possible arose naturally.
*
We returned to the locker room after the first half.
“Back there, you should’ve passed quicker.”
“Guys! Drop back on defense faster! That was dangerous!”
“Are you gonna keep losing your man in the box? Why do you only watch the ball!”
The locker room was noisy.
We were up 1-0, but perhaps the performance wasn’t very satisfying. They continued giving each other feedback, an endless debate.
They called it feedback and discussion, but listening to it, it sometimes sounded like fighting.
In Italy, that level of debate was truly polite.
The people here were just a bit passionate by nature.
I’d misunderstood it at first, but now I just accepted it.
“Shit! Get a hold of yourselves!”
···They weren’t actually fighting. Really.
It was just a rough way of expressing themselves.
“Hoo—”
Anyway.
In the midst of that, I sat quietly and let out a deep breath.
My body was hot. My neck was a bit stiff, too.
For some reason, my arms and legs were trembling visibly.
*I was crazy.*
The tension and excitement surged in belatedly, like a wave, only now. It had been mere moments ago, yet I couldn’t even remember what I’d been thinking while playing.
I must have been so nervous that I didn’t even realize I was nervous. That was why the aftershock was hitting me now.
It felt like I’d played in a state close to unconsciousness.
That was why I’d been able to make that choice then.
Good Lord.
To think I’d dribble the ball up alone from there and even take a shot.
I wouldn’t have done that if I’d been in my right mind.
Never.
I’d done something so insane because I’d lost my mind for a moment.
The funny thing was, it had gone in.
Probably because the opponent hadn’t expected it either. They never would have thought some black-haired brat they’d never heard of would dare do that from there.
They were probably still dumbfounded.
Well··· anyway.
I’d been lucky, but strangely, I didn’t feel anxious.
I was the type to feel anxious whenever I performed beyond my abilities. The pressure of wondering if I could do it again, if I had to.
But right now··· I didn’t feel that way.
Why was that?
Because it felt like I could do it again next time just like now··· because it felt like this wasn’t a simple miracle, but something I’d accomplished through my own ability?
You’ve really gone crazy, Ijian.
You’ve been acting like a genius for so long, you seem to think you’ve actually become one. You fool who just wanted to look like a genius somehow.
“Hoo—”
Anyway.
It was still not enough.
One goal in forty-five minutes? Jiu might interrogate me over it. No matter how much I argued that even a genius couldn’t score every match, that it was amazing against a strong team, it wouldn’t work on the stubborn Jiu.
Besides, I didn’t even want to make excuses like that.
I’d put on such bravado. It’d be embarrassing.
More than anything··· I’d been out of it earlier and couldn’t do a celebration. If it ended like this, Jiu might nag me until my ears bled.
We’d promised before today’s match that I’d do a celebration if I scored.
I’d learned that promises were meant to be kept.
It wasn’t that I wanted to celebrate for Jiu.
It was purely to keep my promise.
“Alright! Gather round, gather round!”
As the second half approached, Coach Luca called us together. We received the instructions we needed to know, then all shouted a cheer in unison.
“Forza—!”
“Viola—!!”
We left the locker room for the second half.
*
It didn’t seem like I had much time left. When we’d left the locker room earlier, Coach Tony had called me over and checked my condition.
I must have looked tired. He told me not to hesitate to raise my hand and signal if I felt like I couldn’t run anymore, and I’d said I understood.
I definitely felt heavy in my body, and my breathing was labored. It had been a while since I’d run this long, and I’d expended so much concentration throughout the first half. I hadn’t felt it at the time, but I was definitely exhausted.
Then I had to focus even more.
Short and intense.
Think of it as just ten minutes. In those ten minutes, I’d try to make just one more play happen.
“Hold the line, the line!”
“Don’t get pushed back!”
Was it because they were losing by a point? Or was it humiliating that they’d conceded to a kid like me?
The opponents raised their momentum even higher than at the start of the first half the moment the second half began.
Their defensive line, already high, pushed up even further. The opposing center-backs crossed the halfway line, positioning themselves on the same line as me.
I could feel their determination to score an equalizer somehow···
It was scary, but on the other hand, it felt like an opportunity. Looking behind me, the space was wide open. There was no better environment to aim for a counterattack.
I took responsibility for as much space as I could cover while cheering on our defense to intercept the ball.
At the same time, I prepared by running simulations in my head about how to continue the counterattack if the ball was cut off.
The opponent had mainly attacked from the left during the first half··· and it was the same now. They seemed to be looking for an opening on the left··· which left the opposite side very empty. So if we went on the counterattack, utilizing the left side space···
*Pow—!*
Ah, they got it.
The opponent’s pass had been intercepted.
I, who had been watching the opponent’s attack while running scenarios in my head, moved the moment their pass was cut off.
“Hey—!”
I ran to the position I’d planned and called for the ball.
*Pow—!*
When the ball came to me like that, I struck a pass into space toward the left side, just as I’d calculated.
*Boom—!*
And I ran.
I sprinted with all my might along the left half-space.
I’d deliberately put a bit more power into the pass.
Speed is the lifeblood of a counterattack. It was to make use of Bruno’s maximum speed.
I ran with everything I had to keep up with Bruno.
“Get back!”
“Delay them!”
In the middle of my run, I could hear the urgent shouts of the opposing players, and hearing their voices gave me a bit of certainty. That I’d transitioned quickly into a counterattack.
And that became confidence as I moved, sure of the next play in my calculations.
*Pow—!*
Bruno, who’d been ahead, received the ball.
In front of him was the opposing fullback chasing after him, and in the center, Enzo and the opposing defenders were running toward the box.
The opponent’s response was quite good amidst all this.
The fullback was quick to recover, successfully blocking Bruno from cutting inside while maintaining his speed.
Left with no choice, just as he had in the early first half, Bruno tapped the ball in, attempting a one-on-one at the left corner of the box.
I ran to Bruno’s left.
To circle back into the left side.
*Tatatat—!*
The moment I brushed past behind Bruno,
*Tatat—!*
Bruno cut inside toward the center.
Today, in situations like this, Bruno’s choice had always been to shoot. The opposing defense knew that, so they narrowed in toward the front of the goal to block.
However, Bruno’s choice was not to shoot.
*Paaang—!*
A through pass.
Bruno threaded a through pass in the direction I was running, that is, toward the left side of the box.
It was a move we’d already practiced in training. A route that exploited Bruno’s attacking pattern, so simple it was called a *macro*.
*Swoosh—*
The ball was sucked in under my feet.
I relaxed my ankles as much as possible and gently trapped the ball. The slowed ball made a soft *fsssh* and stopped about two steps ahead.
Everything up to here had gone exactly according to my calculations.
But from here on, even I didn’t know.
*Boooom—!*
I struck it with a what-will-be-will-be attitude.
It wasn’t a situation where I could aim for a specific spot.
Because I was dead tired.
Fortunately, the impact seemed right, but···
*Swoooosh—*
···Was it too straight?
No.
Actually, this was good.
*Thwack—!!*
The shot pierced over the goalkeeper’s head and lodged itself inside the goal.
“···”
The moment I confirmed it, I looked for Jiu with my eyes. A promise··· I had to keep it. Ah, there. Jumping up and down again. I think they’re shouting something, but I can’t hear well.
Even though my heart felt like it might burst··· I ran toward them. Suddenly··· I remembered something Jiu had said before. That the stomach for rice and the stomach for dessert were separate. That no matter how full you were from a meal, you could always eat dessert.
Why that came to mind now, well.
It was probably because it was amazing that my body was moving even though I felt too exhausted to run anymore.
Football stamina and celebration stamina are separate.
It seemed I had no strength left to run anymore, but I still had strength left for a celebration.
I gave Jiu a two-fingered salute.
Why do I keep doing this even after being teased like that?
I don’t know.
I don’t know, but strangely, I began to look forward to the walk home with Jiu after the match ended.
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