Just before the second half begins.
Before scattering to our respective positions, we stand in a small circle around the captain, taking one last moment to steel our resolve.
I can feel a stickiness from the arms draped over each other’s shoulders, and it is surely not just from sweat.
“Don’t be a burden for no reason and speak honestly now. Is anyone hurt or feeling off anywhere?”
“No one.”
“Good. Then is there anyone who’s forgotten what we have to do in the second half?”
“No one.”
“…Really no one?”
At the answer that came simultaneously with the question, the captain looks steadily at Saponara and asks again.
At that, Saponara puts on a wronged expression, and everyone bursts into laughter at the sight.
“Got it, got it. Then, anyone who doesn’t have the confidence to run like their life depends on it for the remaining forty-five minutes?”
“No one!”
“Really no one?”
“Really no one!”
The captain smiles in satisfaction at the answer that seems loud enough to reach the stands, then nods.
“What did the Coach say was the most important thing in today’s match? Maknae, you answer.”
It’s not a difficult question, so I answer easily.
“To have no regrets.”
“That’s right. Only God knows what the result will be. It may be joy, and it may be disappointment. But there will be no regrets, and there mustn’t be. Not that it will happen, but even if we were to lose…”
In the middle of speaking, the captain briefly lifts his head to look at the stands and continues.
“Let’s pour everything out so we can stand proudly before the fans. Okay?”
“Okay!”
As the captain’s words grow longer, I feel strength entering the arms of my teammates wrapped around my shoulders.
It could be tension, or it could be passion.
Whatever it is, it is working as strength for us.
The captain looks around at all of our expressions and speaks.
“One last question. Everyone else says we’re going to lose in the end. Is there anyone here who thinks that?”
“No one!”
“Listen to that voice! Anyone who thinks we’re going to lose!”
“No one!” “None, damn it!”
“Yeah, damn it! Let’s go! Let’s play without shame!”
“Uuaaah!”
…Ending with a roar of unknown meaning, we scatter to our respective positions.
And I too walk toward the halfway line, suddenly feeling a strange excitement welling up.
Tension and excitement are but a hair’s breadth apart.
So it is easy to be fooled.
It is easy to mistake tension for excitement, and excitement for tension.
But right now, I can say for sure.
It is excitement, not tension.
How can I be sure? The proof is that I want the whistle to blow quickly.
I want to rush out there quickly.
The feeling of having strength still left in my body does not feel particularly pleasant.
I want to run until my heart feels like it will burst.
Before the second half, the Coach had said we would turn the tables.
He said that time did not look like it would be on our side anyway, so rather than fleeing backward, it was time to charge forward.
He said that to do that, everyone would have to run like their lives depended on it, and I am ready.
“…”
Tens of thousands of fans are watching us.
The magnitude of the massive cheers and the chants that seem to spread throughout the city let me guess how great the yearning for victory is.
I will run so that those fans can look at us with pride.
Yes.
There is only one thing.
Leave no regrets.
…The referee puts the whistle to his mouth.
At that sight, I put strength into both legs and finish preparing.
And at the same time the whistle blows…
Beeeeeeep—!
We begin to dash powerfully toward the front.
There was no saying who was first.
*
“Ah… a substitution’s coming out.”
“Walker and Foden? Who’s coming off?”
“Aké and Gündoğan.”
“We don’t have any subs, right?”
“None. There’s no one to take out and no one to bring in.”
Watching the players revealing themselves on the pitch for the second half, Fiorentina fans let out sighs with worried expressions.
The stands had been a cauldron of frenzy until the first half ended.
They had wondered if catching up was even possible, so it was only natural since they had equalized in just the first half.
As if they had already won, celebratory fireworks had bloomed in the form of crimson flames here and there in the stands.
But entering halftime, with bodies stretched out exhausted from cheering with all their might, their heads naturally cooled from the heat. The fans regained their composure and couldn’t help but worry about the second half with a rather conservative outlook.
The opponent is Man City.
A team that doesn’t even look like it’s winning even when it is.
Just recalling the memory of the first leg is enough.
Back then as well, they had finished the first half actually leading, but hadn’t they conceded four goals in a row in the second half and lost the match?
The problem was concentration and stamina.
Man City’s squad was deep.
They could field a starting eleven composed only of bench players at a level capable of facing most teams.
Thanks to that, they could send out different players in each match to manage stamina, and actively use substitutions to inject new vitality as well.
It had been the same in the first leg.
Of course, it was De Bruyne and Haaland who had played from the first half that decided the match, but the introduction of Julián Álvarez and Riyad Mahrez in the second half also greatly stirred up the defense.
In a situation already exhausted from defending all match, fresh players—and ones barely different from the starters—came out and stirred things up, so it was inevitably difficult to cope.
In the end, it seemed necessary for our side to utilize substitutions as well, but the problem was that we didn’t have cards that could change the situation even if we substituted.
That was why it collapsed.
Even a tree falls if you chop it ten times.
If you keep switching axes and chopping, how could it not fall over?
“If the second half goes similarly…”
“It doesn’t look like it’ll be easy.”
“It looks like we can’t avoid conceding entirely.”
“We’ll have less stamina than even the first leg…”
That was why they couldn’t help but worry now as well.
They had really defended well in the first half, but could they really endure the remaining forty-five minutes?
Were they not repeating the previous match, rejoicing after only the first half and being disappointed in the second half?
Continuing to endure while looking for counterattacks—a one-track approach of defense-first, counterattack-second—didn’t look easy.
“Then wouldn’t it be better to fight fire with fire instead?”
“The best defense is a good offense?”
“Exactly. Raise the possession a bit too.”
“But the opponent is Man City. Will it be a match?”
“Hmm…”
If they couldn’t just endure, there was also the method of picking a fight instead.
But the problem was that the opponent was Man City.
They say even a mouse bites a cat when cornered, but the opponent wasn’t a cat; it was a tiger.
How many teams in Europe could fight fire with fire against Man City?
Even teams like Bayern Munich or Real Madrid probably couldn’t easily make that choice.
“Of course, it’d be more fun to cheer for than collapsing at the end while only defending. But…”
“Whatever happens, holding out until the end is still the safe bet, I suppose.”
Regardless of the first-half score, it was obvious that it would be a difficult fight.
Anyone could see that enduring would become harder as time passed.
Even if they somehow endured and went to extra time, nothing would change.
So rather, they also wanted to see them fight back properly.
That they aren’t a team that only defends, that they aren’t a team that only thinks about enduring and winning somehow.
A desire also arose to show that they are a team that thinks of winning by fighting, that plays pretty impressive football.
But it wouldn’t be easy to expect that.
It was when everyone was thinking that and waiting for the second half to begin.
“…”
“…”
What those fans felt was a bit odd was just before the opponent’s kickoff.
It was the sight of the players bunched up tightly at the halfway line.
As if they were all thinking of rushing forward as soon as the whistle blew.
As the fans’ eyes widened a bit at that sight…
Beeeeeeep—!
At the same time the whistle blew, Fiorentina players began running quickly toward the opponent’s half.
Even a cornered mouse bites a cat.
But Man City is not a cat.
But Fiorentina wasn’t a mouse either.
*
[It’s a high press! Fiorentina is attempting a high press!]
[This is a very surprising choice. Just as Man City did in the first half, it looks like Fiorentina is now coming out offensively instead.]
[Do you think they felt that defensive concentration was starting to drop?]
[That’s possible. It could be a judgment that they can’t endure the remaining forty-five minutes by only defending. That they’ll attack instead.]
[Against Man City.]
[They’ve got guts.]
Fiorentina’s midfielders and attackers had been suffering an identity crisis whenever they faced Man City.
They were definitely midfielders and attackers.
Yet all they were actually doing was defending, causing confusion about whether they were actually defenders.
Well, no matter how much the blurring of roles between positions is a trend in modern football.
Still, an attacker is an attacker and a defender is a defender, isn’t that so?
It was true that they felt frustrated.
While they thought it was right to focus on defense against Man City, it was also a matter of pride that they spent more time stopping the opponent’s defenders than attacking as attackers.
Tatatat—!
The Fiorentina attackers who had rushed out the moment the second half began maintained their formation and chased the ball.
Behind them, the midfielders came up matching the spacing and spread out like a net.
That was probably why Fiorentina’s high press felt even faster and stronger than usual.
It’s just that we could do it but didn’t.
As if shouting that.
Paang—!
Paang—!
Under that momentum, the ball quickly passed between the Man City players’ feet.
Perhaps they hadn’t expected Fiorentina to come out like this; they seemed quite flustered.
For now, they passed the ball backward, backward, gradually dropping down as if fleeing from the pressure.
Paang—!
As they went backward, backward like that, before anyone knew it, the ball was at goalkeeper Ederson’s feet.
At this, Romero seems to try to apply pressure, increasing his speed and following to the very end.
Then Ederson too, as if he had no choice, steps back a few paces and pulls back his right foot.
Even players of a team like Man City have no choice but to clear it when pressure like this comes in…
…No.
It’s different.
Tatatat—!
The moment Romero, having dashed right up to his nose, throws his body hoping the kick catches him somewhere.
Paang—!
Ederson calmly collects the ball onto his left foot, making Romero look like someone who has overrun alone.
What goalkeepers? He looks like an attacker.
Even though an empty goal was clearly just a few steps behind him, he is unbelievably calm.
Ppeoooooong—!
As the angle of his left foot opens up, only then does the long kick fly toward the front.
Anyway, they had forced the release of the ball through the high press, so it could be seen as a success, but.
Even among long kicks, simply clearing the ball and aiming it precisely at someone are distinctly different kicks.
Especially for a goalkeeper like Ederson, whose ball control is better than most midfielders.
Shuuuuuung—
Paang—!
The ball shot out low and fast catches the head of Haaland, who leaps up high.
Haaland, snatching the ball like a fly swatter, knocks it back, and De Bruyne, receiving it, looks around and stops the ball at his feet.
Tatatat—!
Fiorentina players are quickly swarming around.
A situation requiring a pass or an escape from pressure.
Sreureuk—
De Bruyne, looking around the situation briefly, soon makes a decision and knocks the ball backward.
Sometimes taking one step back is enough to easily escape pressure.
Because defenders fundamentally have the habit of blocking what is in front, not behind.
That was exactly what happened.
Tatatat—!
With just one motion of folding backward, the players who had followed to block De Bruyne in front are made fools.
Then, De Bruyne lightly flicks a pass.
Paang—!
Rodri, receiving the pass, again lightly sends it forward.
Paang—!
Bernardo Silva receives the ball.
Silva hesitates and checks if there is a corner to dribble into.
But perhaps because the opponent’s spacing isn’t bad, nothing particularly stands out, so he quickly passes.
The ball heads toward De Bruyne again.
Paang—!
But, the next moment.
That pass never reached De Bruyne’s feet.
Paang—!
An unexpected tackle cuts the ball away.
It was Ijian, who had been quietly reading the passing lane.
The passing lane between Silva and De Bruyne had been visible to Ijian, and cutting it off wasn’t difficult.
Paang—!
Ijian, having snatched the ball, springs right up and passes to an open teammate.
In response, Man City players switch to defense and rush toward the ball.
It must have been hard to predict that De Bruyne would lose the ball, yet their reaction is so fast that it looks as if they had anticipated it.
Paang—!
Due to that quick re-press, the ball quickly comes back to Ijian.
As if Ijian is the only one who can keep the ball alive amid this pressure.
Tuk—!
Ijian, stopping the ball with a light touch, looks around just as De Bruyne had done.
And just as he had done, he makes a decision in an instant and moves.
Tatat—!
Dodging Rodri’s foot charging from the front by cutting left,
Tatat—!
Turning left like that and facing De Bruyne’s standing tackle, he again dodges by cutting left.
Then,
Tatat—!
Roughly charging Bernardo Silva is also evaded with just a change of direction, and in a very brief moment,
Ijian breaks away from Man City’s central midfield trio.
Paang—!
And the moment he escapes the tight space, he passes backward.
Since three players had swarmed Ijian, the other side was wide open.
Thanks to that, no matter who the opponent was, they seemed to have some leisure in possessing the ball.
Paang—!
Paang—!
The ball begins to circulate lightly.
Of course, Man City’s pressure hadn’t stopped.
Before leisure could settle, they rushed in, so the leisure quickly disappeared, and each time, Fiorentina players sent the ball to Ijian to survive the crisis.
The amazing thing was that Ijian was always standing in a relaxed position that made it possible.
Man City players certainly weren’t just chasing the ball; they were constantly turning their heads, grasping each other’s and the opponent’s positions while pressing.
Yet in the midst of that, as if he could hide his presence, Ijian kept appearing with a swish— in empty spaces.
Tatat—!
And when he caught the ball, he showed himself slipping out of pressure like a loach without being robbed of it.
Even as Man City players rushed in with fire in their eyes, Ijian possessed the ball.
No one could touch it.
“──!!”
At this, a shouting voice is heard from somewhere.
Man City players who confirmed that voice begin exchanging glances.
Then, soon the intensity of the pressure eases a notch.
Little by little, the players begin stepping back one or two paces.
Thanks to that, space appears in the previously suffocatingly dense midfield area.
And in the midst of that, the one holding the ball is still Ijian.
Paang—!
Fiorentina has begun to possess the ball against Man City.