Listen to Your Elders -1
135. Listen to Your Elders -1
Beeeeep—!
Strangely, even the referee's whistle signaling the start of the match sounds crisp and clear today. As if expressing that mood, I bounce up once with a spring, send the ball back, then dash forward light-footedly. Even when I was waiting to enter from the tunnel, and even when I was standing at the very center of the center circle waiting for the match to begin. It's a bit strange even to me that I don't feel any tension at all today.
Usually, my routine while waiting consisted of shaking tension from my body and quietly muttering opponent information or self-suggestions like 'I can do it' to shake off the jitters. But today, I didn't feel any tension at all, to the point where I couldn't even feel the need to do that. Today, an inexplicable confidence had taken the place of that tension.
Why... thinking about it, first of all, my physical condition was excellent.
Tat-tat-tat—!
Running toward my position, my feet move lightly as if my knees could pierce the sky. It feels like if I were to time my 100-meter dash today, I could set a new record.
My condition had been great since I woke up in the morning.
Today, I even hummed a tune while taking a cold shower.
To the point where I wondered if this was practically the first time I'd ever welcomed the morning so refreshingly, I even wrote in my diary before leaving the house.
What I did yesterday, what I ate, what time I slept, even what position I slept in.
It was because I wanted to maintain this condition going forward.
My physical state was that good.
Although league matches don't go to extra time, today it felt like I could play the full duration even if we did.
Anyway, that is probably the first reason why I feel confidence rather than tension so strongly today.
And the second reason, perhaps, is that we haven't experienced defeat recently.
In league matches played up to the 6th round, we had not lost even once.
Even in the Champions League, we drew with Paris and won against Sevilla.
Since the season started, we have not lost a single time.
I read somewhere that humans are animals of forgetting.
And I am human too.
I've forgotten how to lose.
What was losing like?
I can't remember very well.
I don't particularly want to know either.
Perhaps that's why not once today have I felt like we might lose.
Tat-tat-tat—!
Moving briskly, I pace through the spaces between defenders.
The sensation of my body moving so lightly is so pleasant that it's hard to stand still.
So, I've decided to skip my usual routine today of walking around and analyzing the opponent's movements.
I have a feeling that moving purely on instinct would be better today, so that's what I'll do.
For some reason, it feels like right now I could do whatever I wanted and make it all happen.
Fwoosh—
Fwoosh—
Like a puppy unleashed on a snowy field unable to control itself, I run around, while my teammates slowly circulate the ball from the back.
I wish they'd send the ball forward quickly, but the strategy we established preparing for today's match is actually the opposite.
It was to carefully build up play.
Because our opponent is Napoli.
Napoli was an extremely tricky opponent last season as well. Their attacking power was formidable. Their transitions between attack and defense were especially fast, making their counter-attacks frightening, and the finishing ability of the strikers who completed those counters was outstanding as well, so the way to face Napoli was to never allow counter-attacks.
Today is no different.
The coach told us to reduce risky attempts and attack by building up as much as possible.
And he even said that if we lose the ball while attacking, apply pressure right there to slow down the counter-attack speed, and if it doesn't look like it'll work, stop it with a foul if need be.
That's how frightening Napoli's counters and attacking power are.
That is why, as now, my teammates are slowly circulating the ball to reduce the amount of time the opponent has possession.
So I can't say I don't understand the seniors who rarely attempt forward passes... but on the other hand, it is true that I'm starting to feel a bit frustrated.
I wish the ball would come quickly.
It feels like once the ball reaches me, I could do anything... so it's hard to just wait.
They say the opponent's counter is scary, but then isn't it simply a matter of finishing our plays firmly so that they can't counter?
Tat-tat-tat—!
Moving left and right near the last defensive line to draw attention, the moment Senior Bonaventura receives the ball, I drop down.
"..."
And positioning myself in the ambiguous space between the defense and the midfield, I quietly make eye contact with him.
I send a signal with my eyes that it's all right to pass to me.
Tap-tap—
At this, I sense a brief hesitation in Senior Bonaventura's eyes and body movement.
He's someone who would have passed immediately on any other day, but it feels like he's hesitating because the coach's instructions have come to mind.
But football is a sport with many variables, a sport where situations change in real time.
It means it's difficult to cling to a single principle for the entirety of 90 minutes.
The ability to respond appropriately according to the situation is what is important in football.
I think now is one of those times.
Fwooosh—!
Senior Bonaventura's foot swings from back to front.
A forward pass.
That pass slices through the opponent's midfielders and comes straight to me.
Tat-tat-tat—!
Naturally, the opponent won't just stand and watch.
In the brief moment the pass comes quickly, feeling the fierce momentum of defenders approaching me from all directions, the sense that I won't have time to hold the ball leisurely comes immediately.
Swoooosh—
Between the last defensive line and the midfielders.
That is a space that attackers must constantly target.
But conversely, it is also the easiest place to get the ball stolen by defenders.
Because the space between opponent players ultimately means a position where you are surrounded by the opponent, isolated.
Especially since it is the center space rather than the side, a position where pressure is inevitably applied from all directions, sometimes it's easier for them to steal it than for you to keep it.
And it's good for connecting to a counter-attack after stealing it.
However, there is a reason attackers must frequently target this space despite that.
In truth, if the defense has perfectly set its shape, no matter how weak a defensive team they might be, it's not easy to break through.
But if the defensive line is not fully organized and is in a disordered moment, no matter how outstanding a defensive team they are, they are bound to expose gaps.
That is essentially what is happening now.
The fact that everyone is applying pressure toward me means they are leaving their positions.
It means the defensive line is falling into disorder.
Fwoosh—!
Taking a long first touch, I turn my body to the left at the same time.
Then I see the defenders rushing toward me pause for a moment and change direction.
I intentionally took a long touch.
Tat-tat-tat—!
Everyone chases after me with their eyes locked on me.
Thanks to that, I'm the only one looking at the space beyond them.
No, precisely speaking, it seems like we're the only ones.
Romero's figure is caught infiltrating the back space, the blind spot of the defense's vision.
Matching Romero's speed and direction, I flick the ball up.
Fwooosh—!
That sensation is crisp.
I follow the pass with my eyes as it goes over the defenders' heads, and its direction, power, even its spin fly perfectly exactly as I had intended.
I feel exhilaration.
Nothing is as thrilling as when what you intended unfolds without a single inch of error.
My pre-match hunch was right.
Today is definitely a day things will go my way.
Fwoosh—!
But separate from that feeling of mine, Romero's touch wasn't very good. If it had dropped right in front of his foot, he could have taken a shot immediately, but it bounced long.
That long bounce happened to go toward the center, to a position where a defender could throw his body to clear it.
Whoooosh—!
The black-haired defender lunges like a madman and clears the ball toward the side.
The regrettable opportunity flies out past the touchline.
"Ahhh!"
Perhaps feeling it was his own mistake, Romero kicks the ground in frustration.
Of course, knowing he's not the type to say sorry, I prepare for the next play, when the thought suddenly flashes through my mind: was the touch really that long?
Honestly, it wasn't a touch you could call perfect, but if you ask whether it was that long... I think it was enough to still manage a shot.
But the fact that he couldn't even get a shot off means the opponent defender's cover was that fast, doesn't it?
Come to think of it, Kim... no, Kim was also one of the defenders following me when I received the ball and moved.
I don't know when he sprinted all the way inside the box to clear the ball.
Just how fast must his feet be, and how quick his situational judgment, for that to be possible?
He is clearly an outstanding defender.
Then, as our throw-in is being taken.
I feel a strange competitive spirit suddenly spring up.
Normally, I would have been on full alert racking my brains over how to break that defense, but today, for some reason, the thought of going head-to-head with him comes first.
Is it because we both have black hair?
Or maybe it's because he's such a skilled opponent.
Perhaps it's both.
* * *
Around the time the first half is heading toward the middle, I am thinking that choosing to reduce my thoughts and leave it all to my body today was the right call.
Because the tempo of the match was extremely fast.
As expected, the opponent was aggressive.
The fact that they unconditionally attempted forward passes the moment they caught the ball exuded considerable confidence.
And that confidence was proven by several threatening shots that sent chills down our spines.
It was a sight that made me understand why the coach had been so wary.
And seeing that, our attacking line, including myself, couldn't help but grow more impatient.
It felt like if we played even slightly relaxed, we'd be the first to concede.
So we moved quickly and demanded passes constantly, and perhaps our teammates sensed the danger instinctively as well, as they continued to send forward passes.
Thanks to that, the match was flowing so quickly that I wondered if I'd ever experienced anything like it before.
To the point where I was confused whether I was playing football or table tennis.
In the midst of all that... it was when the clock on the electronic scoreboard I'd glanced at was just short of 30 minutes.
I received the ball on the left side.
Fwoosh—!
The moment I caught the ball, I knocked it forward.
Then the opponent's fullback blocked my path with a posture as if he'd devour me, but since I had no intention of avoiding him, I approached while dribbling.
The basics of dribbling are to knock the ball in a direction away from the defender, but at this point, application is necessary.
Sometimes you have to break the basics.
Tap—
Tat-tat—!
After pulling the ball through the defender's legs, I sprint past him in the gap as he turns his body, and seize the position.
And I immediately drive the ball toward the center.
Kim is directly ahead.
A warning automatically rings in my head that avoiding that monster is the best option.
Just as I could gauge his ability at a glance during the first attack, since then he has repeatedly nullified our attacks.
To be honest, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he's single-handedly defending, so rather than facing him directly now... far to the opposite side.
It looks like a good situation to slip a pass to Romero infiltrating the box.
Or turning the ball back to slow down the tempo that has gotten too fast seems like it could be a decent option as well.
But... I want to shake my head no.
Today, even I can't control my own feet.
Because my body is screaming that no one can stop me right now, I decide to trust it just this once.
Tat-tat-tat—!
Entering the left half-space, I move diagonally toward the corner of the box.
At this, the monster defender takes a defensive posture with his body half-opened.
Since I'm already at speed, it's a posture that hints at the thought of following my breakthrough direction rather than standing still to block me.
Does that posture alone make me feel like he's reading my thoughts... but even so, I don't feel like going around.
Because knowing is one thing; being able to stop it all is another.
Tat-tat-tat—!
Thousands of kilometers away from Korea, two black-haired men rush toward each other.
Honestly, I had been a bit worried, but it seems it was a needless worry.
I had wondered if having the same black hair would make me go soft on him, but it was the opposite.
Rather, I didn't want to lose to him even more.