I'm Younger -1
Most European football fans might feel a bit aggrieved. Because, frankly, their image as projected to the outside world through the media isn't exactly favorable.
Ignorant, rough, violent, and so on.
Of course, it's not that such fans don't exist at all, but obviously, they are only a minority.
Aside from them, the vast majority of fans simply love the culture of football itself.
There are even fans who possess the magnanimity to applaud opposing players.
Clap, clap, clap, clap—
The sound of applause echoed throughout the Stadio Olimpico.
It was applause directed at a young boy walking off the field.
The Roma fans were applauding Fiorentina's number 20, Lee Jian, who was leaving the pitch as a substitute.
"The kid runs really well."
"That was impressive."
"Where did a kid like that come from? I'm jealous."
"Wouldn't he be a huge threat paired with Pellegrini?"
"If he were our player, he'd have a seat reserved among the 'Five Emperors.'"
It might go without saying, but Roma fans have immense pride in Roma.
To them, the best team in Europe is Roma, the best fans in the world are Roma's fans, and the best stadium in the world is the Stadio Olimpico.
Put another way,
in their minds, Roma is the toughest team to face in Europe, and the Stadio Olimpico is the most difficult stadium for away teams.
The applause right now was only possible because of that pride.
To be able to put on that kind of performance against the best team in Europe, in the most difficult stadium.
And at the young age of sixteen, no less.
Respect.
"I would've been shaking in my boots. He's a brave one."
"With a mentality like that, he'll be a real headache for us in the future."
"We should just sign him."
Of course, after the boy left the pitch and the match resumed, Roma's chants began to flow again.
The bold challenge of a sixteen-year-old boy was a beautiful sight, enough to ignite a fire even in the hearts of the enemy.
*
"Jian?"
"Yes..."
"You know, in a situation like this, you don't need to run off."
"Huh? Ah..."
"Haha. Good job. Sit down and rest up."
I fixed my hair, disheveled by Coach Vincenzo's rough hand, and headed for the bench.
Ah, right.
I should have walked off while taking as much time as possible.
I ran off because I just wanted to sit on the bench quickly.
No wonder the opposing fans were clapping.
I'd unintentionally become a fair player.
"Good job."
"Nice one, kid!"
"Aw, look at this cutie."
After high-fiving my teammates, I collapsed onto the bench.
Whew.
Scored a goal, was congratulated by my teammates.
Then I'd immediately raised my hand.
Saying that... I should probably only play until here today.
I wanted to play more. I really did.
I wanted to play more, but I thought I'd be a burden to the team if I stayed on the pitch any longer, so I had no choice but to raise my hand.
Because of that, I'm not satisfied.
With my play today, that is.
I'd only played a mere fifty-five minutes, and while I'd thankfully scored one goal, that was the only thing I'd done well.
I wish I had managed my condition a little better.
I'm still regretful about the first half.
If I had realized during the first half what I realized at halftime, couldn't I have created one more goal?
Then I could have left the pitch with a lighter heart...
"..."
Hmm.
Sitting on the bench like that, chewing over the regrets, a sudden thought occurred to me.
Coming to Roma, a difficult away venue, playing a full fifty-five minutes, and even scoring a goal.
And it was me, of all people.
Yet regret was the first thing I felt... It felt strangely amazing.
If it were the old me, I would have thought just not passing out was doing well.
Suddenly, it felt like I could hear Jiwoo's voice in my ear.
"Our Jian, you've really grown a lot, haven't you?"
...Have I?
I still have a long way to go before I'm a real adult, but still, at this point... wouldn't this mean I'm at least standing on the path to becoming one?
"..."
I don't know.
For now, the feeling of regret was greater.
*
When the match ended, the regret turned into remorse.
Because we hadn't won.
Around the thirtieth minute of the second half, we conceded an equalizer to the opposing forward, Abraham.
In the end, one-one.
The match ended in a draw, and our winning streak came to a temporary halt.
"..."
I didn't feel good returning to the locker room.
The other teammates actually seemed to be in good spirits, but I couldn't feel good.
Because of all times, the winning streak had snapped right when I'd started the match.
Ugh...
What would the fans' reaction be?
The faces of the local fans who said they expected things from me flashed through my mind.
I felt like I hadn't lived up to those expectations today, so a corner of my chest felt heavy.
"Sigh..."
Arriving at the locker room like that, taking off my uniform and resting for a moment... I took out my phone with slightly trembling hands.
The fans' reactions were secondary.
First, I was worried about Jiwoo's reaction.
"..."
I couldn't bear to look straight at it, so I turned on my phone using my peripheral vision and pulled up the messaging screen.
As expected, Jiwoo's message was at the very top.
...There were over ten piled-up messages.
I suddenly felt anxious, hesitating over whether to open them or not...
But I absolutely couldn't not look.
Jiwoo: [Photo] ⑫
How could I stand this?
"..."
I opened the messages with squinted eyes.
And checking from the very first message...
Hmm.
Thankfully, there didn't seem to be anything bad, so I opened my eyes fully and checked the messages.
Jiwoo: Hey, hey, don't overdo it
Jiwoo: What are you gonna do if you get hurt, you punk!!!
Jiwoo: If you come back hurt, no food for you!!!
Jiwoo: No but what's with the opposing number 7??
Jiwoo: Why does he keep shoving with his body ㅡㅡ So cowardly
Jiwoo: Find out his phone number for me
Jiwoo: So I can tell him not to play soccer like that
Jiwoo: Tell him he's got a scary noona at home so he shouldn't mess around
...These were messages sent during the first half.
Jiwoo: Yaaaaaaah
Jiwoo: That was crazy, reaaaally
Jiwoo: You did great did great did great ㅜㅜㅜㅜㅜ
Jiwoo: [Photo]
This must be from when I scored.
In the photo, there was some crazy-looking person, so I looked closely... Dad?
No, how much do you have to jump around for a photo to come out like this? It's like only an afterimage remains, as if taken while his soul was leaving his body.
"...Pfft."
A laugh burst out of me before I knew it.
After checking the messages, I somehow felt at ease.
Yeah.
This is enough.
As long as Dad and Jiwoo weren't disappointed, that's what mattered for now.
I picked up my phone again and sent a reply.
Me: You too
Me: Send a photo
I sent the reply without much thought... Wait a minute. Thinking this might be misunderstood, I tried to quickly add another message...
But a reply came in right away.
Jiwoo: Oh my
Jiwoo: You miss noona?
Jiwoo: Our Jian has gotten a lot more honest??
No... what are you talking about.
I meant that Dad's photo was funny so I wanted to see your funny photo too...
Jiwoo: I'll send one later
Jiwoo: Can't right now, no makeup on
Jiwoo: Got it??
Ugh.
Whatever.
The timing to explain already seemed to have passed, so I just sent a reply saying I got it.
It wasn't because I really wanted to receive the photo.
Really.
"Hmm."
But I wouldn't mind even if you're bare-faced...
...
"You said you ate five meals a day?"
"Huh? Yes."
"And did personal training until late at night?"
"Ah, that was just light work to break a sweat..."
"This fellow, I swear. What on earth did he say to make the kid so restless? This won't do. I'm going to call—"
"Ah, no. It's not like that."
I barely managed to stop Coach Tony, who was fuming and trying to take out his phone.
I must have misspoken.
"Damn it. I'll have to go see him again soon. I told him so clearly..."
"...What did you tell him?"
"Hmm? Ah, it's nothing. There's just... that. So, how are you feeling now? Your condition."
"Ah, I'm fine now. It's just tough because I played a match, so it's natural..."
After returning from Roma,
I finished a brief recovery session and visited the U17 team training ground.
To see Coach Tony and Coach Luca.
Because I had found myself thinking of them often while preparing for the last match.
No matter how much I thought about it, I felt I was able to keep my lie hidden thanks to the two of them, so I wanted to come visit.
Thankfully, both the head coach and the coach welcomed me warmly.
"Anyway, it was cool. That goal. I had a lot of work to finish yesterday, so I stayed late, and the head coach and I watched the match together. We were shouting together. 'He's my student! A student I'm proud of!' Like that."
"Haha..."
"No, but how did you think to hit it as a volley right there? Just instinctively?"
"Uh, well... I trained hard on shooting with you, Coach. It's thanks to you."
"Hmm? Hahaha! This kid knows how to talk pretty now."
"Are there a lot of prickly guys in the first team? The kid is learning how to get by in society. Jian. They're not easy, are they?"
"...A-A little."
"Haha!"
Honestly, it hadn't even been that long, but coming here felt refreshingly new.
As if my heart felt at ease, like I'd come home.
Now that I think about it, it was comfortable playing here.
No one recognized me, and there weren't tens of thousands of spectators during matches.
Even if I played poorly, no one would say anything.
Of course, back then even that made me nervous and scared, but thinking about it now, that's how it was.
Looking back, it really was no big deal.
So a sudden thought came to mind.
If I look back on the present later after time has passed, maybe from that perspective, even now will seem like no big deal.
Well, I don't know.
Anyway, it feels like my thinking is changing a bit.
For the past few days, I'd been thinking I wanted to become an adult quickly, but now that's not necessarily the case.
Because it felt like there are privileges that only come with being young.
"Anyway, Jian."
"Yes."
The head coach, who had been smiling, spoke with a serious expression.
"I don't think you need to push your diet to the point where it's overwhelming. Same with training. If you rush anything, you're bound to stumble."
"Yes..."
"What you need to be most careful of is injury. You're at an age where you're growing rapidly, and if you get greedy about bulking up, you're bound to get hurt."
As I nodded, Coach Luca added a word.
"Eat with an easy mind. There's nothing to rush. Hey, even after ten years, you'll be twenty-six. What's the rush? Take it slow. Actually, you're already too fast as it is."
"I'll keep that in mind."
I didn't let their words go in one ear and out the other; I took them to heart.
They were right.
Looking back now, it was a bit dizzying.
Why on earth did I force feed myself until my stomach was bloated and train until late at night?
No wonder my body felt heavy... And I even played a match in that condition.
It's a miracle I didn't get injured.
If I'd gotten hurt, I wouldn't have been able to play for a while, and I nearly wouldn't have been able to get lunch boxes from Jiwoo.
I felt relieved in many ways.
I'll have to become an adult slowly.
"Hey, anyway, it's a real relief we drew yesterday."
"One point from an away trip to Roma is a valuable thing."
"Haven't we played one less match than others?"
"Oh, really? Then can we look forward to at least the Conference this season?"
After the relatively serious talk ended, the mood lightened again, and as if to prove they knew nothing but football, the two started talking about soccer again.
From the current league standings to how this team or that team was doing lately, to who was playing well...
Coach Luca suddenly spoke as if he'd remembered something.
"Ah, isn't the next match Lazio?"
"Right."
"Head coach. You know, that guy. Raki or Rika or something."
"Rika Romero?"
"Right. Romero. He's at Lazio, right?"
"Yeah. That's right."
As Head Coach Tony nodded, Coach Luca frowned as if annoyed and said to me.
"Jian. I hate to say this, but if you end up playing in the next match, you absolutely have to do better than that Rika whatever-his-name-is."
"...Why?"
"I know a coach at Lazio's youth academy. He boasted endlessly about that Rika whatever. He's sixteen too, and I think he debuted for the first team in August. And he's scored like three goals now or something."
"Ah..."
"He bragged so much even though I never asked, I ended up blocking him. So this time, you show him. Who the real prodigy is."
...He must have been really annoyed, if nothing else.
As I was about to answer that I understood, Head Coach Tony scolded him, asking why he would say such things.
I said with a smile.
"I will. I'll show him. Whose student is the bigger prodigy."
"Yes, yes. I trust only you. Ah, he's going to show him. Why are you scolding me?"
"Tch..."
Seeing the head coach clicking his tongue and the coach grumbling, I laughed.
You can both expect as much as you want from me.
Because it doesn't feel like a burden at all.
"Um, by the way."
"Hmm?"
"He's sixteen too?"
"That's what I heard."
"By any chance... when is his birthday?"
"Birthday?"
At my question, Coach Luca took out his phone, searched for something, and answered.
"March 14, 2005. Why?"
"Ah..."
If it's March 14, he's three months older than me.
Since I'm June 20.
"I'm younger."
Just until yesterday, I wanted to become an adult, but now I feel proud that I'm younger.
It's a bit iffy to go back and forth like this... but whatever.
You can be like that when you're young.
────────────────────────────────────
────────────────────────────────────