Who's That Kid -1
"Wow, that's amazing. Ji-an. A hat trick in forty-five minutes."
"Incredible, right?"
"Guess he felt he could hold his own training with the first-team guys, huh? Wow, you can feel the confidence in his play."
"Right?"
"It's like he's finally become objectively aware of his own ability. You saw earlier, right? Surrounded but not panicking, taking them on by himself."
"He did."
"...Coach?"
"...Hm?"
"Are you feeling the autumn blues? Why does your voice sound so lonely?"
After the match against Parma.
At Coach Luca's words, Coach Tony smiles.
"Look at this. And why are you smiling so wistfully again?"
Wistful was exactly the right word.
Gazing into empty space with a wistful smile, Coach Tony muttered.
"He says he wants to give it a shot."
"Huh? What?"
"Coach Vincenzo called. He wants to put Ji-an on the roster for next week's league match."
"And?"
"I asked him first. What do you think? Do you want to try a first-team match, or keep playing here?"
"And he said he wants to try?"
"Yeah."
At Coach Tony's words, Coach Luca tilts his head.
"Then that's a good thing. He said he wants to try it. Now he knows how to challenge himself. Just a short while ago, he was a kid you could barely talk to."
"Right. It's truly moving."
"But why do you look so down?"
Coach Tony shakes his head.
"I'm really proud too. Happy. But, well, it's always like this. When kids you first saw as little brats grow up and leave your nest. You feel proud, but on the other hand, you feel a bittersweet longing thinking about the old days. It's just that."
"Oh, Coach. Didn't you talk with Coach Vincenzo? He's only going to play one first-team match a month. But why are you acting like he's leaving for good? Anyone would think you're marrying off your daughter. You've been a coach for ages, why are you like this?"
Coach Luca clicked his tongue, and Coach Tony smiled and nodded.
"I suppose I got especially attached to him. The kid has a pitiful side to him. I shouldn't have, but I think I rooted for him the most. That's why I feel strange, that's all."
"Well, I'm the same."
"Honestly, my worry outweighs everything. I wonder if it's still too early."
"What are you worried about now?"
Coach Tony let out a sigh.
"I wanted him to taste nothing but a sense of achievement. Rather than making him overcome some grand hardship to grow stronger. I wanted him to steadily taste small accomplishments, so he'd develop that desire to achieve on his own. And gain confidence too."
"You took great care of him."
"But from now on, it'll gradually get harder. How can a pro athlete's path be all roses? There will be countless crises. I don't think I've taught him how to overcome and get through those crises yet. That's why I'm worried. Before I could teach him that, I feel like I pushed him toward a challenge for no reason..."
"Do you think Coach Vincenzo will just stand by? He'll care for him just as much as you. No, and in the first place, he's not completely leaving, is he?"
At Coach Luca's words, Coach Tony laughed heartily.
Coach Luca shrugged.
"Besides, he'll do well there too. I saw him training with the first team. He stood out the most even there."
"He must have. That's why Coach Vincenzo's eyes turned to him."
The two laugh together.
Coach Luca playfully poked Coach Tony's side and said.
"If you're that worried, why don't you pack your bags and follow him? To the first team."
"..."
"...Coach?"
For a moment, a look of serious contemplation flashed across Coach Tony's face, and Coach Luca furrowed his brow.
But Coach Tony smiled and patted Coach Luca's shoulder.
"Seeing Ji-an become active and confident makes me so proud. Watching children grow—that's the greatest reward of this job, isn't it? Now I have to find another Ji-an."
"Tsk, too bad. I was going to snatch up your spot the moment you left."
"What?"
The two burst out laughing.
...
"Dad."
"Hm?"
"Um, do you... have to work this weekend too?"
"This weekend? Yes. Why?"
"Ah... it's nothing."
Watching his son turn away after such a random question, Ji-an's father, Lee Wonhun, tilted his head.
He always went to work on weekends, so there was nothing new to ask—why had he asked?
He was about to dismiss it, thinking his son was being dull... but no matter how he thought about it, there seemed to be a reason, so he called his son back.
"Why the weekend? Is something going on?"
Then Ji-an scratched his head and answered.
"No, well. It's nothing big. They told me I'd be in the first-team matchday squad this week."
"...The first team?"
"Yeah. Well... I think I'm probably just going to be on the squad list. But still, I might end up playing... so I was going to ask if you could come watch if you had time. It's a home match."
Watching his son act nonchalant, Wonhun's mouth fell slightly open.
The first team? Already? Did they call his son up to the first team? Not even the U-19 team right above, but the first team?
No, no. That aside.
There was another part that surprised Wonhun more.
His son had definitely just said he was going to ask him to come watch if he had time.
If he hadn't heard wrong.
"..."
Since coming to Italy, Wonhun had never once gone to watch his son's match in person.
It was because he worked at a travel agency, and weekends were often busier.
But it wasn't like he had work every single weekend. There were definitely weeks he was off. Especially recently.
Even so, he'd never gone to watch his son's match.
He had voluntarily gone in to work.
Why?
Because he didn't care about his son? Impossible.
It was because he knew his son would feel burdened if he went to watch.
After all, why had he come all the way to Italy? Wasn't it to help his son escape from burden as much as possible?
Although in being so wary of burdening him, something bad had happened instead, and he'd felt that life was truly difficult.
Nevertheless, Wonhun had been so careful, censoring himself to ensure his child never felt burdened again.
But just now, his son had spoken first.
Saying if he had time, come watch the match.
"...Right. I see. Got it. Go in and rest."
"Yes."
Wonhun quickly sent his son into his room.
And stared blankly into space.
Various things flashed through his mind.
The coaches who had consistently looked after his son from the beginning until now.
The kind kids who got along well with his son, unlike the previous team.
And his friend Jiu, who made his son laugh the most.
Grateful faces passed before Wonhun's eyes.
Thanks to them, a day like this has come too.
A day when I can go see my son's match in person has come even for this worthless father.
"..."
Wonhun quickly took out his phone and began typing a text to send off urgently.
This weekend, he really did have work.
But how important was that right now?
When he was now able to go watch his son's match.
"If they don't approve, I'll quit. Our son earns more than me anyway."
Having sent a one-sided vacation notice, Wonhun wiped the corners of his eyes and smiled widely.
...
Honestly, I still wonder if I did the right thing. I'm still not certain.
Is this right? Is this really right?
I have no idea.
"Hoo..."
I let out a breath to calm my chest, which felt like it was going to burst. But my pounding heart showed no signs of settling down.
"......so, watch the pressure. When defending..."
In front of me, Coach Vincenzo was explaining today's tactics with veins bulging in his neck...
None of it was entering my ears.
All I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat.
October 24... 2021.
What this date means is, it's the first day I step onto a first-team pitch as a player.
And that day is today, right now.
"......Today, I must definitely..."
For now, I wasn't in the starting lineup today.
I was on the substitute list. The coach told me just to feel the atmosphere of the stadium and the bench today, and not to worry.
So the chances of me coming on as a substitute were low.
But the nervousness was unavoidable.
Just being here made me tremble.
My mind was blank, unable to think of anything.
Even now was like this, so how much more nervous would I be walking out to the pitch?
Earlier, I'd ridden the team bus to the stadium and seen the long line of fans again today.
And now, if I went out to the pitch, those fans would fill the stands, roaring and making my ears ring.
Could I really play there?
"..."
No. Let's not do this.
As anxiety kept creeping in, I closed my eyes and regulated my breathing.
Get a grip. Stop rambling, stop making yourself frantic.
Just stop thinking altogether.
"..."
Close my eyes, cover my ears.
Just stay still. Don't think about anything.
Don't think... about anything.
Thump—
Thump—
Thump—
I felt the rapidly fluctuating heartbeat gradually slowing. The irregular rhythm began to steady.
"..."
Then suddenly, familiar faces began passing before my eyes.
Coach Luca and Coach Tony, the U17 kids, Jiu, and Dad.
Why were those faces appearing before me now?
They were all... people I was grateful to.
Right. The people who helped me get this far.
Today, I deliberately gave tickets to Jiu and Dad to come to the stadium.
If it were the old me... I would never have done that.
Even if they could watch on TV or online, I would never have asked them to come to the stadium.
Why?
Because the thought that I absolutely couldn't mess up while they were watching would come to me, and that would be an enormous burden.
But the me of now... I think I'm different.
I called them because I've changed.
Of course, that didn't mean I didn't feel pressure.
It was still full. If I were to enter the match, the thought that I had to show a good performance dominated me.
But... it was different.
It wasn't that I didn't want to show a bad performance. I wanted to show a good one.
Yes.
Not because I don't want to show them, but because I want to.
"...!"
I flinched and opened my eyes.
When I turned my head, our first-team captain, Biraghi, had his hand on my shoulder.
"We're heading out, kid?"
"Ah... yes."
Before I knew it, all the seniors were leaving the locker room.
I nodded once and followed the seniors out of the locker room.
*
Ahi ahi ahi-!
Magica Viola-!!
È triste il mio cuore lontano Da te-!
Magica Viola alè-!!
As expected, my ears are ringing.
The cheers echoing from all around aren't heard with my ears but felt with my body.
I can feel now that sound is something that truly exists even if you can't see it.
"Faster, faster, faster, faster!!!"
When I suddenly came to my senses, the first thing I saw was Coach Vincenzo standing near the touchline, screaming toward the pitch.
The constant "faster, faster" from the coach, which I'd heard almost like a recording on loop during training, woke me up, and in that moment my vision widened and the pitch finally came into full view.
Right. I don't remember.
How we entered, how I was sitting on the bench now. There was no memory of it, as if that moment had been deleted.
When I came to, the match was already well underway.
"..."
Still, the strange thing was that I was less nervous now than in the locker room.
In the locker room, all I could do was sit still, but now I could at least watch football.
Watching a match between Serie A teams unfold right before my eyes, stray thoughts naturally disappeared and I felt focused solely on football.
"Push up! Push up!"
Today's opponent is Genoa CFC.
Genoa was a team lingering in the relegation zone, and the match was unfolding with us dominating.
The opponent dropped their lines back to defend solidly, while we circulated the ball in fairly advanced areas, looking for chances.
Watching that scene suddenly overlapped with training in my mind. What did the coach say at times like this?
He said scoring as quickly as possible was important.
He'd emphasized many times that while it was good for us to dominate possession, it only meant something if we scored.
If we couldn't score, momentum might shift to the opponent, so scoring as fast as possible was unconditionally better.
But that was easier said than done.
The goal wasn't going to open as easily as in training.
The opponent, objectively inferior and playing away, had resolved to block off the front of the goal.
Several crosses had been sent into the crowded box teeming with defenders, but so far they'd all been deflected.
Hmm.
Looking at the scoreboard, already fifteen minutes had passed.
I wished the score would come quickly if possible...
I was watching the match with a slightly anxious heart when—
"Hey! che cazzo!"
"Ahhh, che coglione!"
"Porca madonna!"
At the harsh words beginning to come from behind, I unconsciously hunched my shoulders.
Um... unspeakable curses.
And it hadn't even been fifteen minutes yet. The fans' patience seemed to have already hit bottom.
The atmosphere grew increasingly brutal, and by the twenty-fifth minute of the first half, boos began to pour down.
This was our home stadium, yet we were starting to get booed.
This wasn't right... the coaches and seniors had trained so hard.
How must the players feel being booed by the fans?
It probably wasn't good, to say the least.
I wished a goal would come soon that could turn these boos into cheers...
Right around then.
"Ooh... ooh!"
"Shoot!"
"Goooal! Nice!"
Finally, the long-awaited goal burst forth.
As expected, it was Vlahović.
Vlahović headed home the cross from the right, finally breaking open the opponent's goal.
"Yeeeah! That's it!"
"Great! Dušan!"
At the goal, everyone on the bench shouted with clenched fists, and the coach performed the feat of being angry and happy at the same time.
"Wow...!"
I too stood up from the bench and clapped.
Part of it was pure joy, and part was thinking the angry atmosphere in the stands would subside now.
But that hope was immediately shattered.
"Ah shit. That shouldn't have gone in."
"They're just going to keep sending in crosses now. Just because one luckily went in."
"We have to lose today for the manager to get sacked. If we win, we'll have to watch that octopus head for another month!"
Uh... this isn't right.
Despite the goal, the cheers were lukewarm, and instead, louder cursing could be heard.
The boring match content seemed to be the problem again.
"When the hell can we watch football while enjoying it? Huh?"
At the shouts flying in from all around, I glanced at the coach for no reason.
Fortunately, he didn't seem to hear them and showed no reaction...
Hmm.
If even a goal couldn't satisfy the crowd, what on earth had to be done?
I was lost in my own worries when...
"..."
I saw the coach, who had been looking at the pitch, subtly turn his head.
Had the crowd's voices reached him after all? The coach scanned the stands.
And then...
"..."
"..."
His eyes met mine.
The coach glanced at me, smirked, and turned his head back toward the pitch.
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