141. Square Your Shoulders -1
October 13, 2022. Artemio Franchi.
The sun’s dominion over the sky gradually began to wane, and in that twilight, the blue grass was dyed golden.
In the center of the stadium, more than ten children sat around a tent laid out on the ground, bustling together. The children were Fiorentina’s youth players, and the tent was a Champions League banner—white with black stars printed upon it.
Matchday 3 of the 2022–23 Champions League.
Fiorentina had brought Maccabi Haifa FC of the Israeli Premier League to their home.
“What a day today is!”
“The day we rise to first place!”
“Forza─!”
“Viola─!!”
Along with the thunderous drums, the roars of warriors filled the stands. Everyone wanted an overwhelming victory. The size of that yearning was proportional to the size of the cheers, making the stadium resound thunderously.
The Champions League group stage is a schedule of six matches per team.
With two matches played at this point, the one defending first place in Group H was Paris Saint-Germain. Paris and Fiorentina were tied on points with one win and one draw, but Paris led on goal difference. While Fiorentina beat Sevilla 3–1, Paris had overwhelmed Maccabi Haifa 6–1. Kylian Mbappé had poured in four goals, surpassing a hat-trick, and thanks to that, Paris boasted an overwhelming goal difference of +5.
Thus, for Fiorentina to climb to first place, they needed an even more overwhelming victory than that.
Of course, Fiorentina’s initial goal had merely been to advance to the knockout stage—that is, second place in the group. Having confirmed in Matchday 1 against Paris that they were not far behind by drawing, it would have been strange not to be greedy for first place. Whether for a brief moment or longer, the fans wanted to see Fiorentina’s name at the top of the table.
As the stadium filled with voices of support carrying such yearning.
Ceux sont les meilleurs equips~
The song that always sent chills down one’s spine began, and the players, standing with their hands behind their backs, prepared for the match with faces full of excitement.
Facing a relatively weaker team might seem, at first glance, like something completely without pressure. But as could be seen from the players’ expressions right now, that was not the case. In terms of pressure, this might actually be the worst.
It was only natural.
There is nothing more pressuring than a match you absolutely must win. And if it is a match where you must win by an overwhelming margin, even more so.
A hint of such pressure was visible on the Fiorentina players’ faces. Although Vincenzo Italiano, the manager leading Fiorentina, had sufficiently emphasized before the match that whether by five goals or one, the only thing that mattered was winning—since the results of the following matches could not be guaranteed, it was also true that they needed to rack up a big score against the group’s bottom team, anyway.
As that pressure showed on the faces of the players who knew this fact, the watching fans also felt a slight unease, wondering what if, as they waited for the match to start.
However, it seemed there was no need to worry so much. Because Fiorentina possessed a certain human irony—someone who hated pressuring situations more than death, and who instead drew out 200% of his ability precisely in such situations.
“That’s it. Lee looks like he’ll score five goals today.”
“When he’s got that face, there’s nothing to worry about.”
The fans were relieved seeing Lee Ji-an, who looked somewhat rather anxious.
It was quite an amusing sight.
*
Even if it was a peripheral league—even if it was so peripheral that many people didn’t even know it was a league belonging to UEFA—the league champions had a different mindset from teams that had never been champions. It was about the winning mentality.
Although the Israeli league was one that couldn’t even crack the top fifteen in the UEFA league rankings, Maccabi Haifa was still a champion that had conquered a nation’s league. Meaning, they too had been kings in their own domain.
Naturally, they were a team that inevitably had more experience winning than losing, and Maccabi Haifa was a team for whom winning had become a habit. Of course, in today’s globalized world, there was no one who didn’t know that a gap existed between them and the European center. Still, the mindset of the Maccabi Haifa players who took the field today was that no victory was impossible.
—“The defense is quite compact. As expected, the Israeli champions have come with a tactic of building a solid defense first and looking for counterattacks.”
—“I think there could be quite a few more counterattacking opportunities than expected. As you can see, Fiorentina is coming out aggressively from the start.”
—“Meaning there’s quite a bit of space behind them.”
—“Whether a large number of goals is possible depends, as always, on how early the opening goal comes, doesn’t it? They show the will to get the first goal quickly, but this could be an opportunity for Haifa as well.”
While Fiorentina dominated the flow of the match, Haifa, with their line dropped deep, showed their intent to defend first and counterattack. They hadn’t profited much from this, but Haifa had once profited from it in their match against Paris. They had been pushed onto the back foot throughout by Paris’s attacking power, but had managed to score with one counterattack.
Thanks to that, even though Fiorentina held possession throughout after the whistle blew, a strange tension flowed through the stadium. Perhaps it was better described as impatience rather than tension, because the longer the timing of the first goal was delayed, the more anxious the Fiorentina side became. On the contrary, it was Haifa who looked comfortable in their play.
Haifa was a team that knew how to lay aside their status as their domestic league champions, yet kept their pride as champions hidden behind them, ready to draw it out when needed. The thought that if they could just endure the first ten minutes the chance would come—or perhaps not just endure, but even take control of the match—tightly bound Haifa’s defensive line.
They too were a team that had always played from the position of the stronger side, so they knew the reverse all too well. They knew that the moment they let their guard down, any team could plunge a dagger into them.
And so, as Haifa acknowledged the difference in strength and adopted a low posture, yet harbored the hope of piercing the enemy’s heart at any moment while facing the match—
The scoreboard showed exactly one minute before ten minutes.
On the left side of the stadium, a 17-year-old boy caught the ball.
And in that boy’s expression and movements, not a hint of complacency could be found.
In truth, that boy was both the most frightening existence to Haifa, and also the one they had pinned the most hope on. A boy who, at 17, was tearing through Serie A and playing in the Champions League. Honestly, it would never be strange for him to have pride bordering on arrogance. So Haifa had hoped that his arrogance would be on full display against them.
But unfortunately, Haifa did not know the boy deeply. If they had known how frustratingly oblivious he was to his own standing—how he lacked any sense of where he stood—they would never have harbored such hopes.
“Let’s go!”
“He’s in!”
The boy broke through the left flank with a crisp one-two pass and before long carried the ball into the box. Then he shook off one more defender with an all-out dribble, gritted his teeth, and struck with his right foot.
He could have taken it easy, but the shot was sucked into a course that even Europe’s best goalkeeper would have struggled to reach.
Waaaaaaaah─!
Soon a massive roar erupted, and the Maccabi Haifa players could not understand.
Why, against them… he was gritting his teeth that hard.
.
.
.
90:00
FIO 5 : 0 MHA
-9’ Lee
-16’ Lee
-41’ Lee
-62’ Saponara
-73’ Bonaventura
-81’ Amrabat
ㆍㆍㆍ
I haven’t lived that long, but still, 17 years should be enough time to accumulate quite a lot of experience. Anyway, if I had to pick the busiest and most hectic month out of those 17 years of my life, I would unhesitatingly choose October 2022.
Not only was there a league match every weekend, but there were Champions League matches during the week as well, so even when resting, it didn’t feel like rest. Especially in the second week: after playing at home against a team called Maccabi Haifa, flying to a city called Monza that weekend for an away match; then the following Wednesday flying all the way to Israel to play Haifa again, and after returning to play a weekend league match… I was at the point of wondering where on earth I was.
Thanks to that, I developed a strange ability. You could call it the ability to fall asleep anywhere as long as I laid my head down. Of course, it wasn’t voluntary, so I wondered if you could even call it an ability, but I had become a veritable fainting ability user—someone who could pass out regardless of time or place, whether on a plane or a bus.
Swish—
“…”
As I drew the curtains, sunlight that was warm yet somehow chilly penetrated in. After getting through that insane schedule, I was grateful even to feel the Florentine sunlight in my room. I let that sunlight swim freely through the room and lay back down on the bed.
It was a rare day with nothing to do, so I felt like lazing about to my heart’s content. I wondered if it was okay, but today I didn’t want to leave my bed.
Lying with my arm as a pillow, I picked up my phone.
First… I looked up the results of the past matches. Honestly, I couldn’t remember well how many matches we played during October, or what score we won by in which match. It was funny, but it had been that kind of hectic month.
I did the absurd thing of searching our team name on a search engine.
—Fiorentina Wins 3–1 Away in Israel Amidst Concerns… Rises to Top of Group H
I flicked my thumb up, and an article about us taking first place in Group H caught my eye.
October 13: a 5–0 home win over Haifa.
October 21: a 3–1 away win over Haifa.
In the meantime, Paris had also won two straight against Sevilla, but the article said we were first due to a better goal difference. There was still the match against Paris left, so the standings weren’t important right now, but still, it wasn’t a bad feeling.
Next…
—Fiorentina Overpowers Juventus 2–1… Jian Lee’s Brace Leads Victory
…Honestly, I remembered this one, but I looked it up anyway.
I scored two against Juventus.
Well, more than that, I was just prouder that we won, so I mindlessly browsed through several more articles of the same kind. I didn’t know why I never got tired of it.
Anyway, while I was scrolling around with a smile on my face, a notification popped up at the top of my phone screen.
It was from Jiu, of course.
Jiu: Done packing
Jiu: Put in so much stuff, it’s gotten super heavy
Jiu: Will you carry it for me? 0_<
Jiu: Did you finish packing???
…Carry what.
I shook my head as I sent a reply.
Me: I purposely didn’t unpack after the away trip
Me: I think I’m pretty smart…
Replying to Jiu always came with pressure. Because if I sent the first message and then started typing the next one, the ‘1’ would disappear in the meantime. So after sending a reply, I had to quickly exit the chat window. Her reply would come within ten seconds.
Jiu: What
Jiu: Don’t pack sloppily, do it neatly
Jiu: Put your clothes in so they don’t get wrinkled
Jiu: Mom’s waiting just for you
Hmm.
I didn’t know why, but I suddenly felt like my throat was lodged tight.
…I should repack my bag.
“Urrrrrgh… up…”
I put my phone down by the pillow and heavily raised myself up. Then I laid down the suitcase standing in the corner of the room and unzipped it open.
Hmm… I guess I just need to put in a few more clothes. I sighed and headed to the closet. I took out some clothes, folded them haphazardly, threw them into the suitcase, and pressed them down. Then I closed the lid, zipped it up, stood it back in the corner, and quickly lay back down on the bed.
“…”
Lying in bed like that, I looked at the ceiling instead of my phone.
…I felt somehow restless.
How long had it been.
Four years? Five years?
Anyway, it had been roughly about that long.
In any case, I was really going after a long time.
During this A-match break, I received word that my name had been included in the national team call-up list.
So I was going.
I was going, but… the feeling was strange.
It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad either.
Not because I felt nothing at all, but because I was feeling both of those things at once.