Chapter 188: Secret -3
There are all kinds of people in the world, and just as every single one of them is different.
Even among soccer players, no two are the same; all are different.
For example, well, first there are factors like height and weight.
Whether their dominant foot is left or right is also one of the major parts that distinguishes players.
If judging by strengths and weaknesses: are they good at shooting, passing, dribbling, defending?
If judging by tendencies: do they prefer passes to feet, penetrating space, curling shots, headers, breakthroughs, crosses?
Also, what kind of person they are is an equally undeniable factor—whether they have a timid personality, a challenging one, or a bold one.
The elements that make up a single “soccer player” are so numerous that they are hard to list exhaustively, and precisely because they are so numerous, a player who is exactly the same in every regard cannot exist.
Therefore, no matter how identical the tactics may be.
If even one player on the pitch changes, the soccer that team plays cannot help but change.
For example, imagine assigning a role in a 4-3-3 formation to the right winger, telling him to focus on straightforward flank breakthroughs and crosses.
And then try having Player A and Player B, both capable of playing right winger, each play forty-five minutes in the first and second halves.
Then would the first and second halves really flow in exactly the same way?
I don’t think so.
Even without any tactical changes or changes in other players, the flow of the match would clearly change from just one player on the right wing being different.
This isn’t a matter of who is better and who is worse.
As long as reality isn’t a game, Player A and Player B are different players and different people.
Whether that difference is big or small, it is a story of how a difference inevitably shows itself in the end.
Thwack-!
Thwack-!
Near the halfway line, circling around the center circle, exchanging short passes.
Normally, Amrabat and Torreira would be the passing partners, but.
Today, Alfred Duncan is in instead of Amrabat, and Rolando Mandragora in place of Torreira as partners.
The formation itself is no different.
Duncan simply carries out Amrabat’s role, and Mandragora carries out Torreira’s role exactly as it was.
Thwack-!
However, even in the simple passes exchanged at close range, the difference is felt.
Unlike Amrabat, whose dominant foot is the right, Duncan’s dominant foot is the left.
Unlike the small and quick Torreira, the tall Mandragora does not prefer a fast rhythm, and so on.
Those small elements that may seem trivial gather and gather, so that even the short passes must be given and received in a different way than before.
Thwack-!
To the left-footed Duncan, give passes to his left foot.
Thwack-!
When giving passes to Mandragora, you must only do so when the surrounding space is definitely secured.
Thanks to that, today I have to move while thinking even more than usual.
When the regulars who always held their spots are out, what is difficult isn’t something else.
It is difficult to break away from the familiar things you have always done and adapt to change again.
But there is nothing I cannot do to win.
Thwack-!
After passing to Duncan, I secure a view of the surrounding space and then turn my body forward.
Tatatat-!
And I cross over the halfway line heading upward.
Then I see the opposing midfielders around me dropping their line to match my speed.
Into that space, Duncan, who had received the ball, starts dribbling up himself.
Amrabat is also a player who carries the ball, but Duncan has a much stronger tendency in that regard. He prefers to run with the ball himself.
Therefore, rather than when syncing with Amrabat, I advance one step further to create space, and instead of receiving the ball in the second line, I move with the intention of targeting the space behind the defense.
If I just loiter in the second line, our routes will definitely overlap.
Tatatat-!
I suddenly increase speed and run between the opposing defenders.
Direction: the right half-space.
Opening my body to the left to secure horizontal vision, I check the back line while penetrating into the box.
Duncan is the type who prefers challenging passes over safe ones.
He attempts straight-line passes more than turning back, so he tends to give passes that are fast and strong rather than easy to receive.
Therefore, I keep only the offside line in mind and block out the rest of my vision.
Receiving a difficult pass while worrying about all sorts of things inside the box is no easy task.
I decide to focus solely on receiving the pass and connecting it to a shot.
This isn’t a playstyle familiar to me, but since change has occurred in the team, I too must change.
I cannot ruin the team’s chemistry.
Also, such a change is not a bad thing.
Today there is one more reason I absolutely must score a goal.
Because I must quickly keep my promise to Mateo.
Thwack-!
The ball finally shoots out from Duncan’s foot.
As expected, a fast ground pass that pierces straight between defenders.
It is so strong and fast that one might think the power of that pass was aimed at a teammate behind me.
···It does not look like it will be easy to receive smoothly.
I throw away stray thoughts and entrust my body solely to instinctive feel.
Tatatat-!
Without slowing down like a relay runner just before the baton touch, I focus on the approaching ball and gauge the timing.
It is hard enough just to receive it, but a defender is even closing in from close range.
I must handle it quickly, cleanly, and surely.
Fwoooosh-
The moment the ball that has passed the defenders approaches right before me···
Tap-!
I slam my right foot hard into the ground to brake, and raise my left leg slightly.
The stronger the pass, the more smoothly one must receive it, thinking of the ball as an egg and taking power out, but.
Now I judge that I must rather do the exact opposite.
Because the defender is running side by side with me.
I release only about half the power in my left ankle, and angle the outer edge of my foot so the ball can hit the outside of my foot.
Thwack-!
The ball that hits precisely the outside of my foot bounces slightly long.
Direction: back left, slightly diagonal.
That is, a direction moving away from the goal, which means the power I can put into the shot will drop a bit, but it does not matter much.
Because instead, the angle opens up more.
Tap-!
At the same time strongly pushing off the right foot that was supporting me, I unfurl my crouched upper and lower body and spring away.
And toward the ball, I take steps matching my stride.
Then I plant my standing foot and pull back my left foot.
To curl greatly toward the left goalpost,
Pwoooooong-!
I struck it.
*
“Dad. You know.”
“Yeah, Mateo.”
“In Korea, is ‘see you again’ a common greeting?”
A hospital room in a hospital located in Florence.
Mateo, who had donned a purple uniform over his hospital gown to match the match time, asks his father.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we usually say Ciao (goodbye) when parting, right? We only use Ci vediamo (see you again) sometimes.”
“Right.”
“But in Korea, I wondered if ‘see you again’ is used like hello or goodbye.”
Korean, all of a sudden.
At the somewhat out-of-the-blue question, Mateo’s father shrugs and looks at Mateo.
Mateo spoke while looking at the TV screen where the Fiorentina and Monza match was unfolding.
“Ri didn’t say Ciao. He said Ci vediamo.”
“···”
“Why did he do that? Rather than really meaning ‘let’s meet again,’ he probably just translated a Korean expression that way, right?”
For a moment.
Seeing Mateo speak with a smile, his father rubs his hand around his mouth.
He probably cannot say “probably not.” From that tone, a painful expectation seemed to be felt, making it difficult to say anything.
Honestly speaking, it was a miraculous event.
The fact that Ri, his son’s favorite player, had visited the hospital room.
Mateo’s father, being a man of that age, did not like taking photos and such.
But after his son began his battle with illness, feeling somehow that he should leave many records of his son’s appearance, he began capturing his son in photos, one by one.
The short video that became a hot topic on social media recently, showing his son looking happy while watching TV, had also been filmed with that meaning.
That day Mateo’s condition was somewhat better, and he waved his arms in joy; the father laughed heartily and filmed the video, then uploaded it to social media without much thought.
But that video became a hot topic, and surprisingly, the club even contacted them.
It was a message asking if it was possible to arrange a short meeting with Ri.
But this is a bit of a funny story.
Actually, even if Ri had agreed to meet first, it was not an easy situation.
Because Mateo had been going in and out of the sterile room as his condition had worsened greatly over the past few months.
For the meeting to happen, his condition had to improve significantly, which was obviously not an easy matter.
But surprisingly.
From the moment they told Mateo that such a talk had happened.
Mateo began gathering strength.
His condition began to improve considerably.
It was thanks to him beginning to burn with the will to undergo treatment, saying he really wanted to meet Ri.
It was a short meeting that came about with such difficulty.
Mateo’s physical condition was one thing, and Ri was such a busy star, after all.
It was difficult for the situation to align perfectly, yet it became reality, so it had to be called a miraculous event.
But precisely because of that.
It was difficult to have expectations that they could have such a meeting again.
Although after that short twenty-minute meeting, Mateo wanted to see him again so much that he talked about it all week long.
He was not someone they could just call to come back whenever they wanted.
“···It could mean let’s meet again someday.”
“···Do you think so?”
“Of course.”
Therefore, Mateo’s father was worried seeing Mateo expect that there might be a chance to meet again someday.
Well, if his condition really improved a lot later and he could be discharged.
At that point, it would be a situation where expecting anything other than going to the stadium to watch a match directly would be difficult.
Yet he could not bring himself to tell him not to expect it, so it was only heartbreaking.
“Oh, great pass!”
Still, did they really have to meet?
Just watching on the TV screen like this, he looks happy as if he is not in pain.
How thankful it would be if he could be a source of strength even from afar.
“Forward, great run!”
Mateo, who had been concentrating on the screen as if being sucked into it, clenches his fist.
On the screen, wearing number 32, Alfred Duncan is dribbling the ball up.
Mateo is so focused that he even kicks the blanket with his feet.
“Pass!”
Impossible as it was, it was as if Duncan heard Mateo’s words.
As soon as he shouts “Pass,” Duncan passes.
And Mateo begins holding his breath.
Ri traps the ball.
A wonderful touch.
A touch that sends the defense falling for a perfect feint, opening up space.
“···!”
And the following shot.
Even on the overhead broadcast view, it was a wonderful shot flying toward the goal, enough to make one certain that its trajectory would be beautiful.
Then··· as always.
At the same time the goal net ripples, Mateo raises both arms and cheers.
It went in.
Ri scored again.
“···”
But what was a bit different from usual was.
That Mateo, who would have been cheering frantically, did not take his eyes off the screen.
As if expecting something.
Mateo looks at the screen with sparkling eyes.
Because Ri had promised.
That next time he scored, he would do a celebration for him.
A celebration where he raises both arms to show off his biceps.
The thought of Ri doing a celebration for him.
How happy a thing that was.
“···”
But, at the same time.
Mateo also harbored the thought beforehand that he should not be disappointed even if he did not do it.
Well, he might not think of it in the moment.
Or··· it might have just been something he said.
There could be various reasons, so he had no intention of feeling upset about it not being done.
No, perhaps not expecting anything was the more natural thing.
“···”
But Mateo’s eyes begin to sparkle even more.
Then they even begin to waver.
“···Haha.”
Mateo puts strength into both arms and clenches his fists tightly.
He is imitating the goal celebration on the screen.
Ri was showing off his biceps to the spectators.
Mateo was incredibly happy that he was the only one who knew the meaning of that celebration.