Episode 197: Value Judgment - May 8, 2023.
Four days after the Inter match, the day of the Round 34 league game.
Our Round 34 opponent was a team called US Sassuolo Calcio, and the match was scheduled to be played at Sassuolo’s home, but.
“···”
I myself was sitting in a cafe in Florence, gazing at the golden afternoon sunlight.
Because I hadn’t made the away squad list for this match.
Was it the day before yesterday?
I had been called to the coach’s office as soon as I arrived at the training ground and held up for quite a long time.
Starting with whether my condition was alright, whether my girlfriend and father were doing well these days.
We also chatted lightly about football—whether I’d watched the Champions League, who I thought would win.
And because we shared some deep conversations from the heart as well.
Well, it seemed the coach had a lot on his mind.
Watching the players drop one by one.
It was only natural.
Of course, as the coach of a team that needed results, having players fall away right when they needed to make a push must have weighed on him.
And since he was a coach who cherished his players terribly, he must have felt great worry and guilt.
Especially yesterday, he seemed to blame himself a lot because of the captain.
No matter how strong the player’s own will had been, in the end, it was he who decided whether to play.
He regretted sending the captain out to play so much, calling it a mistake.
And while saying that, he told me.
That he would leave me out of the squad for the next match.
He said that if he lost me too, the situation would truly be hopeless, so it was fine to lose one match and I absolutely had to rest.
Honestly, I wanted to shake my head.
Because whether I realized it or not, I had been receiving far more consideration than the other seniors.
I wasn’t unaware of it.
For being the youngest on the team, for not having the best stamina.
Or for playing an important role—I had received excessive care for these reasons, so how could I not know?
So I wanted to refuse, but in the end, I had no choice but to listen.
Because the coach’s thoughts were similar to my own.
No matter how good the opportunity was, even if it might never come again... the coach said there was no need to stake my life on it to the point of ruining my future.
We should only do our best within our capabilities; if we get greedy and reach beyond, something will surely go wrong.
As if it hadn’t already gone wrong many times.
Then he complained a great deal too.
He said it was a shame that this opportunity had come this season, of all seasons, with the World Cup squeezed in—if it had been last season or next season, it would have been better.
If only it weren’t for this insane schedule with matches every four days, we could have gone all the way to the end with all the players, he said.
But, well.
That too was fate, and because of that, isn’t winning the league something heaven bestows? he said, and I nodded.
Listening to him, it really seemed that way.
Winning is something heaven bestows.
Because I thought that winning requires not just skill, but all the luck in the world to align.
Anyway.
“···”
Thanks to that, even though the match was in full swing, here I was doing this.
Wearing sneakers instead of football boots, training clothes instead of a uniform. Sitting on an antique wooden chair instead of the bench. Trying my best to enjoy a measure of leisure.
Of course, it wasn’t going well.
No matter how much I wanted to stop caring, I kept wanting to pull out my phone; my desire to check how the match was going burned like a chimney.
But since the coach had said he’d scold me if I rested half-heartedly, telling me not to think about football and to rest completely.
I forced my phone back into my pocket, and instead, my hand, having nowhere else to go, lifted the teacup to my lips.
What was this called again?
Did they say chamomile tea?
The scent and taste don’t seem bad.
“Wow... it’s really beautiful.”
As I was sipping my tea like that, Jiwoo, sitting beside me, murmured while looking toward the terrace.
Outside the terrace, the lowering sunlight was dyeing the city golden.
“This time of day is the prettiest. Right?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s hardly any delivery, no 24-hour convenience stores, and plenty of inconveniences... but ugh. Once you see something like this, it all just flies away.”
Florence is certainly beautiful morning or night, but Florence at this hour is almost unfairly beautiful.
Seeing the sun set against antique buildings whose construction date and time spent standing there are unknown—just that alone brings a feeling of peace to the heart.
Florence truly is a beautiful city.
In many ways.
Of course, strictly speaking, I haven’t lived here long, but now it has truly become a city like my hometown.
Is that why?
For some reason, today of all days, that golden sunset looks almost hazy, wistful.
“···”
I take my eyes off the cityscape and look at Jiwoo’s profile as she gazes at the view.
Then I suddenly ask.
“...Do you like it here?”
“Huh? Here? I do, yeah?”
“Why do you like it?”
Perhaps it was a somewhat out-of-the-blue question.
Jiwoo tilts her head, looks at me, then answers.
“It’s pretty. The people are nice too. And I’ve grown attached to it. I’m so used to it now that it really feels like our neighborhood.”
“...Hm.”
“But why?”
“...Nothing.”
“What, how dull. What is it?”
Even at Jiwoo’s question, I shake my head, and perhaps sensing something in my expression, unlike usual, she doesn’t press to the end and turns her head away.
I feel exactly the same as Jiwoo.
Florence is beautiful, the people are good, and it’s a city I’ve grown attached to.
It’s been a long while since it started feeling like home.
It wasn’t necessarily the power of time.
Just because I’ve been in Florence for over two years doesn’t explain feeling at home... because I never felt that way in Torino.
What was the difference?
“···”
Come to think of it, I think I vaguely felt it when I was in Torino.
A feeling that I wouldn’t stay there long, somehow.
Actually, back then I had no other plans; I only had the plan to do well on the team and advance from the reserves to the first team.
Even though I naturally needed to be there for at least five years to do so.
Somehow, strangely, I never got the feeling that I would live there long.
The funny thing is, even the roads I took every day didn’t stick in my eyes, and I often took wrong turns.
In the end, even though my body was there, perhaps my heart had already left.
My body was attached to that place, but my heart was not.
Come to think of it, is what matters more the heart rather than the body?
Since coming to Florence, from some point on.
I had never once thought that I would leave this place someday.
That must have been when.
It was the first time the city and neighborhood I lived in felt like home.
“···”
Hmm.
If I think about it the other way around, if my body leaves but my heart remains, can this place continue to be my home?
Just, that thought suddenly occurs to me.
“Hey, you know.”
I blurt it out, and Jiwoo looks back at me.
“Do you want to keep living here from now on?”
“From now on?”
I nod, and Jiwoo scratches her head.
“Well? Who knows?”
“I’m just asking how you feel. Whether you want to.”
“I don’t really know that either. I don’t know what I’ll do or what will happen in the future. But if nothing special happens, I think I’d want to stay. Of course, I also want to go back to Korea and be with my family. Or maybe...”
...Or?
Jiwoo thinks for a moment, then shakes her head.
“Anyway, well. I don’t know either.”
She called me dull just now.
Jiwoo is the dull one.
I shrug my shoulders, and Jiwoo looks at me with eyes that seem to find me strange.
“But why do you keep saying weird things since earlier?”
“...It’s nothing.”
“What. Say something, say it.”
“...No, it’s just. It’s especially beautiful today.”
I don’t really know.
The cafe atmosphere, the cityscape dyed golden.
Just that the city looks especially beautiful today, so my heart feels complicated, that’s all.
I sip my tea and look out at the terrace scenery again.
But, “What did you say?”
Suddenly Jiwoo opens her eyes wide and looks at me.
As if there’s something shocking.
“...Why?”
“Ah, no. What did you just say?”
“...Just now? It’s especially beau—”
...Ah, no.
That’s not what I said.
“...I said the scenery is beautiful. The scenery.”
“Ah, really? Hm.”
What was she thinking?
She heard whatever she wanted to hear.
And why are the corners of her mouth suddenly drooping?
Whew.
Anyway, my heart feels complicated for some reason.
Am I being too sentimental?
The city looks more beautiful today, yet somehow it feels like it’s saying something to me, making it look sad.
...I should stop looking.
“Sigh. By the way, is your dad on his way?”
After downing the rest of my half-finished tea in one go, Jiwoo stretches and speaks.
I take out my phone, check the message, and answer.
“Yeah. He says he’s coming.”
“He said he’d be here by 5:30 earlier.”
“It seems work ended a bit late.”
“Your dad is always the busiest.”
We had planned to eat out for dinner, the three of us with Dad.
We were waiting at this cafe because Dad said his work would finish nearby.
“If it were me, I’d be going out and having fun every day with the money my son earns. You’re really diligent.”
Come to think of it, my stubbornness clearly takes after my dad.
Though I had phrased it indirectly, I think I had told him several times that he could quit working now.
Seeing that it didn’t get through to him at all.
“For Dad, work is almost a habit.”
“The kind where thorns grow on his body if he doesn’t work?”
“Yeah. When I was young, I barely saw his face at all.”
“Wow, that’s a bit extreme.”
Honestly, I often resented my dad when I was young.
It was because I liked him.
I wanted to play with him a lot, and I wondered if work was really that important.
So one day, with my childish heart, I whined very timidly.
Something like, is work more important than family?
Of course, even then I had beaten around the bush.
Anyway, at that time, Dad had said this.
That he was really sorry but it couldn’t be helped.
That it was because he loved our family too much.
That he had to earn money and work a lot for the family he loved.
Of course, I couldn’t understand back then.
If you love us, why don’t you come home? If family is much more important than work, why do you only work? I just thought like that.
But now, I think I understand a little.
“Oh, he’s here!”
“...Ah.”
At Jiwoo’s words, I lift my head and see Dad waving from afar.
I quickly get up from my seat and leave the cafe.
After exchanging greetings with Dad, we head to the restaurant we had decided on beforehand.
...Today, the streets feel even more beautiful.
Jiwoo chattering away with trivial stories to Dad, and Dad listening attentively to her, looks warm and affectionate.
Walking behind those two, I can no longer endure it and take out my phone to search.
90 minutes, match ended.
We lost 1-2 to Sassuolo.
“···”
Sure enough, just like Dad said.
There must be times when you have to do that.
There seem to be damnable moments when you have to distance yourself because you love someone.
Even if it’s damnable, if doing so is the path that helps the one you love more... isn’t that the right thing to do?
I just had that thought.