[Time has already passed the 70-minute mark. There are roughly 20 minutes left.]
[There’s quite a bit of time remaining, but, well. Compared to the time left, Liverpool’s speed has noticeably dropped.]
[Their energy levels have certainly fallen, haven’t they?]
[The height of their press has lowered. It’s Liverpool, a team that doesn’t usually drop tempo easily. Did the first half go at an over-pace?]
Around the time the scoreboard clock had passed the 70-minute mark.
While Man City circulated the ball from the back and prepared their attacking work, the commentators watched Liverpool’s defensive shape and spoke.
Like watching a basketball game, back and forth, the relentless tempo of the match had considerably died down.
It was because Liverpool’s speed had dropped.
The press that had shown tremendous intensity had also gone quiet, and the players’ overall work rate had dropped as well.
Accordingly, Man City was also in no rush, slowly controlling the tempo.
[Manager Klopp is clapping and encouraging his players.]
[It’s a situation where they have to stick closer even if it’s forced. Of course, it will be tough.]
[They go up. They try to push up.]
Slowly, slowly.
As Man City with the ball dragged its feet, Liverpool was eventually dragged out.
The 0-1 scoreline created in the first half was continuing to create an unjust situation for Liverpool.
A position where they had to be pulled along at the opponent’s pace.
But there was nothing to feel unjust about; if they felt unjust, they shouldn’t have let themselves be dragged into a 0-1 deficit.
[Rodri, to Stones. Stones to Walker. Walker plays it forward and Foden drops down to receive. The ball goes back to Rodri.]
[It’s not easy. Still, they press until the end. Twenty minutes is a long time, but if the opponent is Man City, it may not be that long.]
There likely isn’t a team as adept at the high press as Liverpool.
But Man City is also the team most excellent at breaking down the high press.
As if determined to throw away the last 10 minutes, Liverpool tries to up the gears, but Man City leisurely circulates the ball and annoyingly escapes.
Still, they try to see it through to the end.
Because they can’t just give up.
This is Anfield.
A place where you never know what might happen until one second before the end.
However, the Liverpool players who had been charging in until the very end.
The moment the ball enters one player’s feet, their speed drops sharply.
And then, stealthily.
Everyone glances back to check the rear and begins retreating step by step.
Like a fierce wave that had crashed drawing back again, Liverpool stops pressing and returns to its position.
Thanks to that, the player who received the ball leisurely turns and begins looking upfield.
[Liverpool drops back again. What should I call it? Should I say they’ve learned?]
[You could say it’s the mark of a good team. Quickly correcting what isn’t working. That’s a good thing, but right now, it must be frustrating.]
[When I Jian has the ball, Liverpool’s press stops. It hasn’t been working today.]
[Instead, they kept exposing themselves to dangerous situations. They somehow managed to block the final stage, but they couldn’t gain any advantage by pressing against I Jian. They only wasted stamina.]
[That’s why they have no choice but to fall back.]
They heavily press all other players, but when I Jian has the ball, they can’t apply pressure.
Because throughout the earlier match time, rather than the press working, it only produced unfavorable situations.
If they pressured him so he couldn’t turn, he would connect an accurate forward pass with a one-touch pass without even looking.
If they let him turn and only held their positions, he would drive the ball up and initiate attacking play.
If they tried to physically block him from even receiving the ball, they only racked up fouls.
Sure enough, two players had received yellow cards because of I Jian.
Central midfielders Mac Allister and Szoboszlai.
Those two were supposed to keep I Jian in check, but because of the yellow cards they already had, they were in a situation where they couldn’t be aggressive even if they wanted to.
In fact, that was partly why they had tried to squeeze out more energy to press when the ball was on the other side.
Because if I Jian dropped back to help with the build-up from the rear, it would become a situation where there was nothing they could do but wait.
[There are players like that. Players who break the opponent’s tactics with their mere presence. Of course, they aren’t common. Even if a player is the team’s ace, they only receive a bit more marking; it’s not easy to change the opponent’s tactics themselves.]
[If we’re talking about that level of player, at Man City it was De Bruyne.]
[That’s right. But De Bruyne clearly couldn’t play today, yet there’s a player taking his place. What kind of team is Man City?]
Before the match, and right after it began.
It was the same in the flood of articles, and the commentators had mentioned it repeatedly like a broken record.
They said if there was one source of anxiety for Man City, it was De Bruyne not being able to play today.
The Liverpool side’s press had also cited De Bruyne’s absence as a favorable factor, saying their chances would multiply several times over if he wasn’t there.
But, alas.
Even without De Bruyne, there was a player who could take his place.
[Truthfully, it might be a stretch to call De Bruyne a ‘glass body’. But he is a player who has had quite frequent injuries. So we know well. That when De Bruyne is absent, gaps appear in Man City’s performance.]
[He’s a difficult player to replace.]
[Manager Guardiola must have been very worried. De Bruyne withdrew just before the away trip to Anfield. The fans would have been the same.]
[But we don’t feel it. We don’t feel it at all.]
What had been thought irreplaceable was turning out, in today’s match, to perhaps not be impossible.
No, perhaps it had even surpassed that.
Of course, it couldn’t be said lightly.
But everyone was feeling that way.
[If they’re at this level even without De Bruyne, if he returns and the full squad from the start of the season is reactivated... Is there a team that can beat this one?]
[Of course, football is a sport where nothing is guaranteed. That’s why it’s charming. Even a superpower team never knows when or where it might get caught by the scruff of the neck—but, well. It certainly doesn’t look like that will happen easily.]
For Man City fans, it was a touchy subject.
To them, the player called De Bruyne was a tremendous source of pride, a player with a presence like the team’s emblem.
So, while they wouldn’t say it outwardly, some were definitely feeling it.
A player had appeared who could fill De Bruyne’s empty spot.
But would De Bruyne be able to fill that player’s empty spot?
If De Bruyne had been there today, would it really have been at that level?
They were definitely getting that feeling.
*
Football is like that, and so is life.
There are many striking similarities.
One is that an opportunity that has passed never returns.
That’s why it’s important to seize it and not miss it when it comes.
If you can’t score when you need to, you inevitably lose that match.
Opportunity has a rather fair aspect to it—if we fail to seize it, it always flies over to the opponent at least once.
Maybe that’s why such jinxes exist.
Why, the jinx that the team which hits the goalpost loses the match.
Because they failed to score when they needed to.
Then losing the match might not be a jinx but rather a matter of course.
Moreover, if you hear our goal net ripple even once.
It’s a sound that snaps you awake more than any other.
You can’t help but focus more and approach the match with a clearer head.
At any rate, Liverpool was undeniably a formidable opponent.
A firm belief had nearly been shaken.
The belief that our team’s players were the best and that there were no players who could surpass them.
Liverpool was the team that made one think, So there are many geniuses in the world, and strong teams do exist.
However, if there was one slim difference that decided today’s outcome, perhaps it was this.
The difference between the side that scored when they needed to and the side that couldn’t.
The difference between the side that seized the opportunity when it came and the side that regrettably missed it.
Beep, beep, beeeeep—!
The whistle blows and all the players on the pitch slump in their spots.
It had been such an intense match that the final whistle sounded like salvation.
I hadn’t been able to let my guard down until the very end, and with that tension releasing in an instant.
I too lose strength in my legs and end up slumping down.
“Haa, haa...”
Sprawled out however I please, I look up at the sky.
The sky that had been overcast since before the match had now turned completely dark.
Plip, plop.
The drizzle that had been falling throughout the match hits my face, but I don’t even have the strength to care and just take it.
Hm.
I don’t think I can get up.
If I catch a cold like this it’ll be a problem, but I’m so exhausted I can’t even think about the consequences.
But strangely.
At a sound faintly heard from beyond the pitch, from behind the opposite goal... my body begins to move slowly.
I had definitely thought I had squeezed out my very last drop, yet my body rises.
It’s not that I get up; my body rises on its own.
Blue moon—!
You saw me standing alone—!
Without a dream in my heart—!
Without a love of my own—!
I’m not completely used to it yet, but I at least know that that’s our team’s chant.
The fans were singing the chant fearlessly.
That sound, as if it were an alarm, raised me to my feet.
Like I’m possessed, I head that way, exchanging light greetings with the players I meet.
Thanks to that, even though the distance isn’t long, quite a bit of time is taken, and the more that happens, the more impatient I become.
It feels like returning home holding a test paper with a perfect score.
My steps are proud, and I feel full even without eating anything.
To be honest, I’ve never scored 100 points before so it’s just my imagination, but anyway, wouldn’t it feel like that?
My footsteps grow faster and faster.
On the path toward the fans, before I know it, teammates begin gathering around one by one.
Walking alone, then suddenly we’re all walking together.
The more that happens, the louder the fans’ chant seems to grow.
And finally, passing the goalpost and standing before the fans, a torrent of warm applause pours down on us.
Clap, clap, clap, clap—
It’s another wondrous thing.
As happened earlier, strength begins filling me again.
Just moments ago I had been in a state where I couldn’t get up because all my strength was gone, yet suddenly I feel an energy as if I could run another 10 minutes.
“Lee! Lee! Lee!”
Mixed in with the applause, I occasionally hear the voices of fans calling my name.
That voice sounds good.
It settles my heart several times more comfortably than when the whistle blew signaling the end of the match.
It’s not a strange thing at all to gain strength from the fans’ support.
But I had not been ordinary.
Far from gaining strength from it, I had been a coward crushed by that force.
But I had been steadily treated.
I learned about the strength that support and belief give.
Jiu taught me that, and the Fiorentina fans taught me that.
They pulled me out as if dragging me from a dark room to the outside.
Even now, as if sunbathing in a sunny spot.
I photosynthesize, taking the fans’ cheers with my whole body.
“...”
Then I come to my senses and look around, surprised.
Without realizing it, I had stepped forward one pace.
This was the kind of moment when I would always hang back one step behind.
Yet, unlike me, I was standing at the very front.
But the more amazing thing is that I don’t feel embarrassed.
I don’t even feel like hiding again.
Rather, now that it’s come to this, I even feel like doing something crazy.
Sometimes it’s better to let your body move as it wishes rather than thinking.
“YEAH—!!”
A shout loud enough to startle myself bursts from my throat.
Shouting back at the fans cheering for me, the fans’ voices grow even louder.
Is this what they mean when they say a late wind is fearsome?
This moment is quite enjoyable.
The truth is, I must have been starved for attention.