“Nervous?”
After finishing a cold shower, while eating breakfast with the meal Jiwoo had prepared.
At Jiwoo’s words, I glance at her and shrug.
“···Not really.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Same as always.”
“Well, that’s good.”
It’s obviously a lie.
Of course, it’s true that I get nervous before matches even normally, but I couldn’t compare this feeling to normal times.
My stomach hurts from the nerves.
How bad must it be that I even had a nightmare, something I don’t usually have?
But I couldn’t show it in front of Jiwoo.
How could I show myself trembling?
So uncool.
“Once today’s match is over, we’ll be resting for a while, right? At least a month?”
“Well, yeah. Though it might change a bit depending on the result.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why. If we win, I can rest easy, but if we lose, I’ll feel uncomfortable.”
“But resting is also work. It’s a profession where your body is your asset. If you lose, you just need to do better next time. To do that, you actually need to rest well.”
“···That’s not wrong.”
“Right? Noona never says anything wrong.”
I smirk.
Curling up one corner of my mouth, I push the rice into it.
Hmm.
I don’t know why chewing rice feels so rough today.
It’s almost like chewing sand.
Meals weren’t about taste to begin with, but Jiwoo’s cooking was always delicious.
Now it won’t go down my throat at all.
···To be honest, I’m scared.
If Jiwoo weren’t in front of me, I’d probably be sighing deeply right now.
Because the match time approaching second by second is frightening.
“···”
This seems to go beyond simple tension.
Literally, I’m scared.
When was the last time I felt like this?
I can’t even remember.
Of course, I’m trying to think of it positively.
Because I know this tension, this fear, is the driving force that brought me this far.
How much more does it want me to grow that I’m trembling this much—I try to accept it positively.
Still, scary is scary.
With my current mood, I even think it’d be better if the match ended quickly.
Of course, with us winning.
Right.
In the end, we just need to win.
Win and claim the third trophy, put up good results like last year.
Then there will be no problems.
The fans won’t be disappointed, and I won’t be pointed at for not living up to the transfer fee.
And I can hold my head high in front of Jiwoo too.
No problem at all.
Of course··· it won’t be easy.
Winning the Champions League, that is.
Honestly, I still can’t believe it.
That today’s evening match is the Champions League final.
If I had only gotten a ticket to watch rather than play, I’d be so excited I couldn’t sleep.
But the fact that I’m playing in such a match feels unreal.
And the opponent is Real Madrid, too.
To me, Real Madrid feels like a team floating in the sky just by hearing its name.
What should I call it.
A place only chosen people can go, maybe.
Something predetermined from birth, that kind of feeling.
Of course, I believe in our team.
My teammates and the coach—they’ve all won before.
Because I spend every day with them, yes; if not, I still wouldn’t see them as the same species.
They’d look like a superior race different from me, like gods in human form.
But in the end, I’m the problem.
The words from the nightmare I had at dawn still circle in my head.
A feeling that I’m the only one who doesn’t fit on the stage called the Champions League final.
Like attending a meeting where everyone except me is a CEO of a major corporation.
Right.
I just need to do well.
That must be why it’s so frightening and scary.
There’s no room for excuses, no corner for self-justification.
If we lose, there’s a high possibility it’ll be because of me.
Then··· can I overcome that disappointment?
No.
I’ll die.
It’s not a height you can survive falling from bare-bodied.
You’d definitely die.
Unless you had a parachute, but I don’t have one.
In the end, it’s one of two things.
Die, or win and survive.
Since it’s truly a matter of staking my life, I can’t help being scared.
“Not going down?”
“···Huh?”
“Why are you picking at your food? You usually eat well.”
“···No.”
I shake my head at Jiwoo’s words.
Then Jiwoo pouts.
“What’s ‘no.’ You’re nervous. Shaking, aren’t you?”
“···I am shaking.”
“Hey, it’s natural to be nervous. Why pretend it’s not? It’s natural to shake.”
“···”
···Wow.
I thought I’d never been caught acting all this time.
Today, my nerves must be showing enough that even my acting doesn’t work.
After sighing deeply, Jiwoo laughs and speaks.
“What will you do when it’s over?”
“···When it’s over?”
“Yeah. You’ll need to rest well first. Before gathering again to start training.”
“Mm, I don’t know.”
I don’t know.
I haven’t thought about what to do after the season ends.
Because I’ve used all my nerves thinking about the match looming every week.
I haven’t had the leisure to think about such things.
“Isn’t there anything you want to do?”
“Something I want to do···”
Well, I mean.
Dad and Jiwoo.
I just want to spend time comfortably without any worries.
Where we go and what we do isn’t important.
I just want to spend time together.
“···I should get up soon. I need to go early.”
“Ah, yeah.”
Finishing the hardest meal yet, I get up and head to my room.
And after changing clothes, I pack my bag.
When I come back down to the living room, Dad, who had just finished washing up, is sitting on the sofa waiting.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
“Yes.”
The funny thing is, Dad looks incredibly nervous too.
Did he say he couldn’t sleep yesterday and finally fell asleep at dawn?
Seeing that, I feel even more that I must return home with good results today.
In the end, there’s one conclusion.
We absolutely must win.
“Let’s go.”
“Departure—”
Today Jiwoo rides in the car with us toward the campus too.
She doesn’t need to come all the way to pick us up, but she insists on doing so.
“···”
But I’m not in the mood to laugh and chat, so I look quietly out the window and compose my mind.
Because I’m doing that, Dad and Jiwoo seem unable to talk too, which makes me a bit sorry.
But right now, I’m too busy pulling myself together to help it.
···Why is there not a single car on the road today of all days.
It feels like only a few minutes have passed, but already the campus is visible in the distance.
Maybe that’s actually a good thing.
Going there and frantically preparing for the match might be better.
Right now··· I’m so nervous I feel like I’ll go crazy.
“Shall we get out?”
“···Yes.”
Arriving quickly, I take a big breath and get out of the car.
And taking the bag out to sling over one shoulder, Dad and Jiwoo get out too and look at me.
Meeting that gaze for a moment, I soon nod.
“I’ll be back.”
“Yeah. Come back.”
“See you later—”
Since it’s Dad and Jiwoo, they’ll watch until I go in.
I walk in, straightening my shoulders as if nothing is wrong, conscious of them behind me.
But then, suddenly.
Like when I was a child and my steps would stop before the dentist’s entrance.
I don’t have the courage to walk in at all; my feet won’t move.
···Why is this happening?
Without realizing it, I turn my steps back toward the car.
As expected, I see question marks appearing on the faces of Dad and Jiwoo, who were watching me.
“Why, did you forget something?”
“···Not that, um.”
I need the courage to walk in there.
Swallowing my pride, I beg with all my heart.
“···Please cheer for me just once.”
At that, Dad and Jiwoo burst into hearty laughter.
And patting my shoulders, they say.
“Don’t get hurt, just do as you always do and come back.”
“Yeah, man. I thought you were all grown up, but you’re still a baby. Noona will cheer hard for you. Let’s eat something delicious after, okay?”
···What are they saying.
Dad is one thing, but is this really cheering from Jiwoo?
“Well, usually when people say cheering···”
“Huh?”
“I thought cheering was things like ‘make sure you win,’ or ‘do your absolute best,’ that kind of thing.”
If Jiwoo told me to win and come back, I feel like I could give my life on the pitch.
So I said that, but the answer that came back was something I never expected.
“Is winning that important?”
“···?”
Is winning important?
What could be more important than that?
Looking at her as if I don’t understand, Jiwoo speaks with an innocent face.
“Ah, well it’s important. Sorry. But I’m not an athlete. It’s not that important to me.”
“···”
“I’m just saying. Don’t get hurt. Just without regrets. I hope you have fun and come back. Not just anyone can do this match, you know? Right? So just have fun and come back, isn’t that enough?”
···Hmm.
Is that so.
While spacing out at Jiwoo’s words, Jiwoo continues.
“Honestly, whether you win or lose, so what. It’s not like it’s the end of the world. Do you think I’d bawl my eyes out if you lose? So just come back without any injuries.”
···I nod.
After nodding over and over again, I turn my body toward the campus again.
Walking while thinking of Jiwoo’s words that keep circling in my head, my steps that refused to move earlier now stride forward boldly.
···Right.
I had a parachute too.
One that would absolutely never break, an absolute parachute I could trust no matter what happened.
I had just forgotten because my body froze and my mind went blank from fear for a moment.
The parachute was always stuck tight to my back, like a fool.
“Hey—”
“Good morning!”
Entering the campus, staff greet me warmly.
I bow my head in response and walk down the corridor.
···
“Show me. To me, so I can see it with my own eyes. By any means necessary, make it so I can see it.”
30 minutes before kickoff.
Wembley’s locker room.
“I want to see it. I want to see it so badly I’m going crazy. I want to see it today!”
Everyone, regardless of whether player, coach, or staff, standing in a circle.
Listening carefully to the Coach’s final speech with passionate gestures from the center.
The Coach, who had looked deeply into each of our eyes, speaks.
“Show me that you want to win. Today, that’s enough. Tactics or anything else, everything else is secondary. The will to win. Today, that’s everything.”
There’s no one who explains tactics in as much detail as our coach.
And yet, even such a coach says tactics aren’t needed today.
So it resonates even more.
“OKAY!”
“COME ON!”
“LET’S GO!”
Each letting out shouts and cries of fighting spirit, we exit the locker room.
I too blend in among them, letting out a mismatched cry once, then walk down the corridor murmuring a few things to keep in mind.
Walking down the corridor bustling with staff more than usual, I arrive at the tunnel.
They don’t seem to be there yet, as no players are visible on the other side, so I line up against one wall first.
Tapping my legs, rolling my shoulders and neck around, I wait briefly.
Today even the referees waiting up front, exchanging words among themselves, look nervous.
“Vamos, vamos.”
Soon, the spots beside us begin to fill one by one.
Players wearing white uniforms with an elegant emblem line up beside us.
Real Madrid.
There’s a strangely noble aura, as if those white uniforms shouldn’t be dirtied.
Where on earth does this aura emanate from?
I wonder.
Is this what they call a club’s history and tradition?
They say Real Madrid in the Champions League is a team with strange power.
A magical team that doesn’t seem like they’ll lose even when they’re behind, that somehow overcomes it.
That’s what they say Real Madrid in the Champions League is.
But I don’t think we need to be intimidated.
Because we’re the defending champions.
“Entrance!”
Following my teammates, I begin walking out through the tunnel.
As my field of view, blocked from above, opens up, flashes burst from all directions, blinding my eyes.
At the same time, a massive roar begins to make my ears ring too.
Entering frantically, I line up.
Then a large trophy appears before my eyes.
They call that the Big Ears, don’t they?
How important must a trophy be to even have a name attached to it.
To think I went through all that trouble just to lift that once.
I think I’d definitely be upset if I let it slip here after coming this far.
Ce sont les meilleures équipes—!
Es sind die allerbesten Mannschaften—!
The main event—!
The Champions League anthem is sung.
It always feels that way, but that melody gives me even more goosebumps today.
Is this what it means for one’s chest to swell with grandeur?
Not just us but even the spectators’ expressions seem heightened.
“Good game!”
“Good game!”
After the anthem ends, we brush past each other shaking hands and promising fair play.
And then, each heading toward the wide pitch.
“···”
I’m nervous.
But it’s not scary like it was this morning.
Definitely.
I’m nervous, but the feeling is clearly different.
Right.
I’m not scared of falling to my death.
Because I have a parachute.
I have a parachute, so what if I fall.
There’s nothing to fear.
So let’s run with all our might.
Toward that trophy over there, toward that star in the sky.