There is a famous adage in the world of sports.
Offense brings in the spectators, defense brings victory.
This saying by a legendary coach in American football became an adage because its meaning was so close to the truth that it could apply not only to American football but to all ball sports.
These days, it is sometimes taken a step further: offense brings in the spectators, defense brings championships.
The saying is not so complex that it needs interpretation, but if one were forced to interpret it, it goes like this.
Offense is flashy and entertaining to watch, drawing in the fans, but taking care of defense lets you secure the practical advantage.
That is how important defense is.
Defense is precisely what allows an objectively weaker team to defeat a stronger one—what makes giant-killing possible.
Fiorentina's Coach Vincenzo could not have been unaware of this.
"..."
Coach Vincenzo, crouching in the technical area, gazes out at the pitch.
The tactical change he ordered the moment the second half began.
By deciding to open the gates and sally out to fight rather than locking them tight and merely holding a siege, the flow of the match had shifted.
Coach Vincenzo himself knew better than anyone that this was a gamble.
The defensive tactic they had maintained through the first half had been producing fairly good results, so at a glance, it was a situation where one might not understand why a change was even necessary.
And because the opponent was Man City, choosing to match fire with fire first was not an easy decision.
It could be seen as a move that defied comprehension.
However, it had been necessary.
That was Coach Vincenzo's judgment.
The players' stamina was already reaching its limits.
In fact, that had been the case since the mid-to-late first half.
They had been holding out with concentration and cohesion at the very least, but the players' movements had begun to slow after the thirty-fifth minute.
The recent schedule had been brutal to begin with.
Because of that, their reserve stamina was not at one hundred percent to start with, and with the opponent being Man City on top of that, stamina problems were unavoidable.
Because of who the opponent was, they had to run one step—no, two steps—more.
Demanding greater concentration meant mental exhaustion was considerable, to the point of being impossible to ignore.
Moreover, without anyone realizing it.
Having gotten excited by the two early goals, there was no small sense that everyone had overpaced themselves.
He should have reined that in calmly as a coach, but he regretted that he couldn't because he had lost his own composure along with them.
Anyway, just by looking at the expressions of the players who had finished the first half and returned to the locker room, it was plain to see that they had already reached their limits.
The gates had not been breached, but it was visible that water and provisions were hitting bottom.
Well, even in the midst of that, it was something to be proud of that everyone still had a spirited gleam in their eyes.
But mental strength can only shine when the body obliges.
It was inevitable.
The decision.
If he did not make a decision, there was a high probability of a repeat of the first leg.
[Fiorentina is slowly circulating the ball and taking possession. This seems to be the first time we've seen this flow across both the first leg and the first half of the second leg.]
[Man City looks a bit flustered as well. This was obviously not the flow they wanted.]
[However, we'll have to see how this plays out.]
[If Fiorentina comes out aggressively, there are aspects that work in Man City's favor too.]
Of course, it was a change carrying great risk.
If he made a change for no reason and the result turned out badly, all the blame would fall there.
Why did you screw up out of nowhere when things were going well?
It might have been better to hold out until the very end, clinging to a shred of hope even while knowing it would be tough.
But he did it anyway.
If by any chance the result went wrong, he would simply have to take all the blame himself.
He didn't want the arrows to go to the players who had come this far and poured in everything they had.
That said, it didn't mean he intended to go out in a blaze of glory either.
As he said, it was a gamble.
A gamble is clearly different from throwing down your cards and dying.
It was a move with grounds.
A card that could overturn any situation.
Was there not an all-purpose card that could be played in any situation and make all tactics possible?
[The ball continues to circulate through Ri's feet. It turns smoothly like gears.]
[As you can see, Ri is not standing still to receive the ball. He constantly moves to link the passes. His movement to find and enter space is truly outstanding. Because Ri keeps creating vertices, a triangle formation is being made.]
[Even now he isn't dispossessed. He lightly shakes off Foden's pressure.]
What that card was, anyone would know.
Coach Vincenzo watches I Jian teaching the Man City players a lesson in what escaping pressure truly means.
Of course, the fans would likely feel the same, but Coach Vincenzo, far more than the fans, felt a gratitude toward the boy so immense it could not be put into words.
As a coach.
What need was there to say it?
The team had come this far because the boy was here.
Just being able to coach such a player was an honor in itself.
However, precisely because of that, he simultaneously felt deeply sorry.
That young boy held nothing back for the team.
Yet as the coach, he could not let the boy unfold all his talent, using the team's situation as the reason.
Everyone might overlook it just watching the play, but the boy was merely seventeen.
With ordinary talent, that was an age where one would steadily be building skill and experience in the youth team.
Coach Vincenzo knew this well, having started his coaching career with the youth team.
At that age, the most important thing is to consume a bit of everything evenly.
Whether it is real food, or experience.
That is the period when trying and experiencing diverse things is more important than anything else.
His talent was versatile, and in truth, he was so young that he would be the youngest member even on an Under-20 team.
Coach Vincenzo was sorry to assign only one role to such a boy because of the team's situation.
It also felt like a tremendous waste.
The boy could do this well, and that well too.
What was using only one thing all the time if not a waste?
In a way, he also wanted to show him off.
Well, anyone who had watched the boy up close would know.
He wanted to let the boy untie his entire bundle of talents on the pitch.
He didn't want to show only one side and prevent people from recognizing his true worth.
The team's victory was of course important.
It was an undeniable fact that they would receive greater attention if they advanced to the upper rounds.
But more than that, Coach Vincenzo saw I Jian, this talented young boy, first.
He saw that future first.
Above all, as he said from the beginning.
This was not a choice to throw down his cards and die.
It was a gamble.
Isn't a gamble something you throw because you can see where it will work?
Look.
At him now.
Thwack—!
Thwack—!
The ball circulates endlessly with I Jian at the center.
Whenever his teammates' movements lag and there is nowhere to pass, I Jian uses his individual ability to escape pressure and protect possession.
Thanks to that, the other players exhausted by the opponent's onslaught also get time to breathe.
Watching that sight, Coach Vincenzo sprang up from his seat and shouted while waving both hands widely as if fanning.
"Good! Keep going! Do everything to your heart's content!"
Honestly, when the boy scored the opening goal and went back without even a celebration earlier, it had been downright painful.
If he had been on a better-situated team, he could have celebrated to his heart's content.
"Do everything you want to do!"
Coach Vincenzo's only wish was for that precious child—whom he wouldn't hurt even if placed in his eye—to try everything he wanted to do to his heart's content.
*
Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.
I read that somewhere in a book, and I am tasting that fruit's sweetness now.
Thwack—!
Thwack—!
With the opposing players having retreated several steps before me, I exchange the ball leisurely with a nearby teammate.
Until just moments ago they had charged at us with fire in their eyes, but now they simply watch us as if saying, go ahead, play.
But I can see their inner thoughts.
Having been in their position all this time, there is no way I wouldn't know.
Even if they pretend not to care on the outside, they actually want to rush in and steal it.
It's stifling.
Tak-tak-tap—!
As expected.
The opponent, having hesitated briefly, raises their line and applies pressure again.
In response, we also raise the passing tempo, and I faithfully fulfill the role of finding and moving into empty spaces, receiving and releasing the ball.
With the positions reversed, it couldn't be more fun.
When trapped by the opponent's passing play, it had been so frustrating I thought I would die.
Now, trapping the opponent and taunting them is, quite literally... a total blast.
It's unfair that only the opponent got to have this much fun, so I kick the ball more cheekily and evade their pressure.
It's partly because I have more stamina than my teammates that I can run an extra step, but I simply run more because it's fun.
I can feel that defense consumes more stamina than offense for a reason.
When it's fun, you don't even know you're tired.
Thwack—!
But I also know that I can't just play around forever.
According to the coach, possessing the ball like this does have meaning for stamina management, but...
the ultimate goal is, after all, to target the opponent's goal.
That much is obvious without needing further explanation.
By possessing the ball like this, we induce the opponent's reckless pressure, and in doing so, gaps will appear in their back space, and we have to target those gaps.
So in the end, I'm not doing this purely because it's fun.
...Hmm.
Really.
Thwack—!
Against the opponent's pushing pressure, I switch the passing direction backward.
At this, the opponent players brush past me and follow the ball up, and I too follow behind them.
Tak-tak-tap—!
At the same time, I do not forget to turn my head and check the situation behind me.
Romero and Saponara seem to sense that the timing has come, and I see them slowly moving up.
Continuously checking their positions, I follow the ball down.
Thwack—!
The retreating direction is to the right, so from our perspective, I set it to the left.
Age cannot be deceived after all; Saponara is more tired than the fresh Romero.
I need to make the energetic Romero run one more step.
Thwack—!
Now it has gotten a bit precarious.
The ball has flowed even to the captain, the left defender, and the opponent's pressure is right in his face.
Before the cornered captain forgets the arrangement and hoofs the ball away, I have to be in the exact position.
I run as fast as I can.
Tak-tak-tap—!
And the moment I feel the time has come, I quietly raise my hand high and meet eyes with the captain.
At this, the captain sends the pass to me without hesitation.
Sssshhhh—
As that pass comes toward me, I move drawing a semicircle to the right.
And matching my stride with quick steps...
Fwaaaaaap—!
I send the ball long with one touch.
Direction: right.
Since I had made both our team and the opponent tilt to the left, there is a lot of space there.
Swoooooosh—
There is no time to rest even after sending the pass.
Without the leisure to check if it is going accurately, I simply run forward, hoping Romero will take it well on his own.
To be honest, earlier when the opponent had dropped back, I had been a bit panicked.
But after persistently taunting them, I can see a large back space opening up.
Tak-tak-tap—!
Saponara is moving up on the left, and I go up the center.
Meanwhile, Romero is somehow trapping the pass that fell to the ground on the first bounce.
Whether he will choose to cross or break through alone, I don't know.
Whichever it is, I cannot stop moving.
I have to help.
Tak-tak-tap—!
Just as I am running up breathlessly, I glance back and see Saponara veering his path diagonally.
From left to center, meaning he is moving with a defender on him.
At this, I also veer my path to the left.
I take over the space that Saponara has vacated.
At that moment, feeling a strange thrill, my feet move even faster.
Even in such a rushed situation, without needing to say a word to each other.
Being able to read thoughts and communicate through movement alone feels deeply satisfying.
There is nothing as thrilling as when everyone moves as one body.
Tak-tak-tap—!
Of course, curving in from the left brings my breath right up to my chin.
Running like this, I think I understand why Saponara yielded the side, and I want to give him a piece of my mind.
But what can you do.
It is only right that I, being younger by even one year, run that extra step.
No matter that this is Italy, one must respect one's elders.
The moment I have penetrated into the box, I see Romero winding up his right foot on the opposite side.
Fwaaaaaap—!
And the cross comes in.
Tracing the trajectory of that cross in the air with my eyes in advance, I grit my molars and increase my speed even more.
Tak-tak-tap—!
Guessing where the ball will fall: slightly to the left of the left goalpost. And quite close to the goal line.
It was a good cross.
There were defenders who had quickly returned in front, so a low cross seemed highly likely to be intercepted.
So he had kicked a long cross that flows backward.
But from the receiving position, it is tough.
I have to run one more step, and because the height is high, I have to jump with all my might.
Of course, I am ready for however tough it gets.
I am already dying from exhaustion anyway, so there is little difference between now and being a bit more tired right here.
What matters is that I must put a period on this play that everyone created.
Tap-tap—!
The moment I reach the spot where the ball will fall, I jump with all my strength.
Was my jumping ability always this high?
Having made my run from below the halfway line, the ground is impossibly far away.
Swoooooosh—
The ball flying toward me seems to move in slow motion.
I wish it would come a little faster.
I don't have wings, so I can't stay up long.
Of course, perhaps it was an illusion, but the ball quickly grows larger and reaches right before my nose.
At that moment, this thought occurred to me.
Whether this goes in or not.
The process had been so fun that it seemed like it wouldn't matter.
Because of that, Rosati, who would be sitting on the bench, suddenly came to mind.
Baaaang—!
At the same time my eyes closed, I felt the impact of the ball hitting my forehead.