Episode 193 – Perspective -2
“Phew…”
By the time the shadow that had been covering half the stadium had enveloped the whole thing.
“Good work.”
“You worked hard.”
“Rest up.”
High-fiving my teammates, I plop down into an empty spot on the bench.
23rd minute of the second half.
With us leading Genoa 2–1, I was subbed off the pitch.
“…”
Rustle, rustle.
I stuff my sweat-soaked body into a thin outer jacket.
After zipping it up to my neck, I stretch my heavy legs out straight.
…Why do my light shin guards feel like sandbags right now?
Lowering my stained stockings to take off the guards, blades of grass that must have infiltrated at some point are pretending to be leg hair.
“…”
Aren’t these the marks that show how fierce today’s match was?
Come to think of it, it’s not just my stockings—my uniform shorts are also clearly stained with dirt.
I can’t even remember how much I tumbled around.
All I remember is the coach’s furious voice ringing out every time I fell.
Genoa was quite a rough team.
I’d heard that as the season turns to its latter half, the most frightening teams aren’t those in the title race but those in the relegation zone.
And Genoa was exactly that.
They were absolutely seething with desperation.
We’d tumbled around wildly, but I suppose it’s a relief I got off the pitch without injury.
But sitting on the bench like this now… if you ask if I feel good, the answer is no.
Rather, when my number came up on the substitution board, I felt unease more than relief.
It wasn’t that I was unhappy with my performance or had any complaints about the coach’s choice.
Not at all.
It wasn’t easy, but I’d scored a goal and done everything I could.
There was still time left, and we were winning the match, weren’t we?
Yet the reason the unease lingered was probably, as expected, because of my teammates still on the pitch.
How should I put it…
I haven’t enlisted yet, but it felt like leaving my comrades behind on the battlefield and retreating first.
It felt even more so because today’s match was especially fierce.
Was it a few days ago?
During training, I happened to overhear a conversation between the captain and the coach.
It was a brief conversation in which the coach asked the captain his intentions.
The coach asked if he could do it, and the captain answered that he could.
What exactly was possible—I could infer that without needing to hear the subject or object.
It was surely the question of whether he could run more and the answer that he could.
Come to think of it, I can’t even remember.
When was the last time the captain’s name was left out of the starting lineup?
You might have to go back to last year to find it.
That’s how relentlessly the captain had to hold his position.
It couldn’t be helped.
That’s the nature of the position called defense.
At minimum three, at maximum five.
That’s how many have to move as a single body in defense.
If even one person is out of place, everything falls apart.
Like the buttons on a shirt.
And the captain was like the first button.
He wasn’t simply plugging the left side; he was the one commanding the entire defensive line.
He was someone who couldn’t afford to be wrong, and absolutely couldn’t afford to be absent.
…And as if that weren’t enough.
His sense of responsibility must have grown even more after the match against Napoli.
Because the two centre-backs he’d built up chemistry with had both been sidelined by injury.
I’d heard the news last week.
That Milenkovic wouldn’t be able to return this season, and that Nastasic might return by the end of the month at the earliest.
But that was only in the best-case scenario; practically speaking, it would be a miracle if he even returned to training before the season ended.
Thanks to that, the captain had become someone who absolutely couldn’t leave his post.
If the captain were to leave his post in this situation too… I couldn’t even begin to imagine who or how they would fill that hole.
So I could understand the coach’s feelings too.
It’s not like the coach asked because he wanted to.
The problem was that it was a situation where he had no choice.
The captain used to say something like a joke.
That he wished some skilled guy would come quickly and steal his spot.
How long did he have to clean up after troublesome kids like us? He wanted to rest too.
“…”
At the point when the scoreboard clock passed the 80-minute mark.
Sitting on the bench like this, watching the captain panting with his whole body stained with dirt marks… it doesn’t strike me as merely a joke anymore.
It’s not just the captain’s story.
The other seniors are the same.
I wish I could share the burden even a little.
But we don’t have that luxury right now.
“…”
Luxury.
I know where that comes from too.
I can tell just by looking at my dad.
In the past, we were so hard up that I couldn’t even see my dad’s face properly, but now we have the leeway to see him whenever we want.
In the end, it’s a money problem.
The circumstances of adults.
I didn’t care about that before.
Because I wasn’t an adult.
But I’m not a child anymore.
So, I’m also coming to understand that there are situations where you can’t just do what you want.
Should I be happy that I’m gradually becoming an adult?
I had wanted to become a cool adult like the coach or the seniors around me.
But after getting small glimpses of the adult world, my thoughts have changed.
Becoming an adult is incredibly difficult.
I think it was more comfortable being a clueless child.
The world seen from an adult’s perspective is less fun than I thought.
“…”
Why isn’t our team rich?
Complaining about it was no use.
* * *
“So how did he react?”
“React?”
“Yeah.”
“…Hmm. He just seemed no different than usual. He laughed and teased me. He’s always like that.”
A day after returning from Genoa.
After finishing a simple recovery training session, instead of going straight home, I stopped by Matteo’s hospital room for a moment.
I was a bit late because of the away match, but I had come to get my homework checked.
That homework about telling Jiu a secret.
“Then how did you feel?”
“How I felt…”
“You were embarrassed, right?”
I nod at Matteo, who asks with a smile.
It’s already been a few days, but thinking about it now still makes my face burn.
Oh my.
That I said such words to Jiu.
What exactly did I say again…
After revealing the secret about my first-choice middle school, when he asked why I had followed him, did I say that a friend like him was one of a kind?
Even now, I can’t understand where I got the courage to blurt out my true feelings like that.
“How embarrassed were you?”
“…Enough to kick my blanket off in my sleep.”
“You must have been really embarrassed.”
“Yeah…”
I nod to Matteo.
Looking at Matteo smiling gently at me, it seems he no longer sees me as a fan, but treats me like a patient.
“But didn’t you feel a little relieved? After getting it off your chest like that.”
…Yeah.
I nod again.
Somehow, my heart did feel lighter.
It felt like I was breaking my own image with my own hands, which made me anxious, but should I say that once I broke it, that anxiety disappeared?
I’d shown Jiu clearly the side of myself I hadn’t wanted him to see, yet strangely, I felt more at ease.
“It’s natural. Because that’s the real you. Of course you feel comfortable.”
“…”
“You said that friend reacted no differently than usual.”
“Yeah.”
“Why do you think that is?”
Hmm.
I fall into thought for a moment at the somewhat sudden question.
Now that I think about it, I feel like Matteo would make a fine journalist.
Why, you ask.
“Just… maybe because it’s no big deal.”
“Because it’s no big deal?”
“I think so.”
I answer while scratching my head, and Matteo snaps his fingers.
“Exactly. Because it’s no big deal. It might have been a secret embarrassing enough to make you kick off your blanket, but to that friend, it was nothing.”
“…Right?”
“Yeah. It means he didn’t think you were a perfect person.”
…At first glance, it’s not exactly a pleasant thing to hear.
But it’s strange how my heart relaxes instead, as if going limp.
Matteo says with a smile.
“In other words, isn’t it saying that it’s okay not to be perfect, that you’re fine as you are?”
“…I suppose it could be taken that way.”
“Yeah. You know, my mom and dad love me even though I’m like this. It means you can be understood without being perfect, and you can be loved without being perfect.”
“…”
“So, can you do it now?”
Do what?
When I ask with my eyes, Matteo says.
“Try it. Brag about yourself.”
“Brag about myself…”
“Yeah. You couldn’t do it last time. You have to be able to do it today. If you really did your homework.”
“…”
“Just one. Brag about yourself. If you pass this too, I’ll acknowledge that you did your homework.”
Getting counseling seems like a really difficult thing.
To suddenly ask me to do this.
“…”
I hesitate.
To force my reluctant lips to open, I rack my brain.
Bragging about myself.
My mouth won’t open as easily as when I confessed my secret to Jiu.
Is it because I’ve never done it once in my life?
But I want to try.
My heart had felt much lighter after hearing Matteo’s words.
As if I had broken through a membrane surrounding me.
But there are still many membranes I need to break through.
I want to break through and breathe more freely.
“Um, I…”
“Yeah.”
“…Anyway, I tend to work hard at what I do.”
…That’s the only thing I can think of.
My face flares up in heat.
Me, praising myself with my own mouth.
But Matteo doesn’t look at me with strange eyes; he just smiles and nods.
“Of course, of course. You work harder than anyone. That’s why the fans all love you.”
“…Thank you.”
“Good job. Good job. You’ve improved a lot.”
Matteo gives me a thumbs up, and I couldn’t be more embarrassed.
But I don’t feel bad.
Matteo said.
“But it’s still lacking. That’s all you’ve got—you work hard? If it were me, I’d have said there’s no one better at soccer than me.”
“…That’s not true.”
“Hmm, hmm. You still have a long way to go. I’ll have to give you a lot more homework from now on.”
“…”
…He told me to brag about myself, not to put on airs, I think.
Anyway, after letting out a deep sigh and expelling the burning heat from my body, I feel my heart grow lighter once again.
This isn’t easy.
“It’s okay. You’re doing well. It’s not an easy thing, actually. Loving yourself. It wasn’t easy for me either.”
“…Yeah.”
“You can take it step by step. Let’s stop here for today, and I’ll give you the rest as homework.”
“What’s the next homework?”
Matteo thinks for a moment and says.
“There was an article like that.”
“What article?”
“That Real Madrid tried to sign you.”
“…It’s just an article.”
When I answer, shaking my head, Matteo giggles.
“I’m not trying to secretly ask if it’s true.”
“…Then.”
“They say Real Madrid is preparing a transfer fee of 150 billion won to sign you. Summarize in three points what the reason might be. That’s your homework.”
“…What?”
“You can do it, right?”
…I felt like this was the first time in my life I’d ever received such bewildering homework.