I’m younger—*tap, tap, tap*—!
The moment I trap the ball and turn, the players rushing at me come into view.
One from the front left.
Another from the front right.
There’s one behind me too, but I have no intention of going backward, so he’s not worth worrying about.
I focus only on the two in front of me.
*Tat-tat-tat—!*
Neither of them seems like a stranger to this kind of press.
They’re charging in while maintaining perfect distance from each other.
If I had turned around even slightly later, the distance might have been closer than expected, and I might have panicked.
But not now.
I turned quickly and well, and I had already mapped out the opponents’ positions.
Since it’s a calculated situation, I remain calm and face the two of them.
*Tap-tap—!*
First, I knock the ball to the left and move.
To create a gap in distance between them.
If I stand still, I have to deal with both at once, but if I escape to one side, I can widen the distance from the opponent on the opposite side.
*Tap-tap—!*
As I am now, moving left narrows the distance with the opponent charging from the front left, while the distance from the opponent on the right increases.
Since I’ve created a distance gap, it’s no longer a 1v2, but simply two 1v1s.
*Tap*
—After stopping the ball at a suitable position, I turn my body to face the first opponent head-on.
Lowering my stance deeply and waiting… when the distance to the opponent closes to about three strides.
*Swoosh*
—I lift my left leg, folding it so my left foot comes to my right knee, then—*stomp*—!
As I lean my upper body to the left, I stomp the left foot I had raised down to the ground.
It’s a feint, as if I’m going to push the ball to the left… *tap-tap-tap—!*
From that feint, I can see the charging opponent’s center of gravity sway wildly.
The opponent collapses, his right leg buckling as if he’s about to fall flat on his rear.
Even so, he stretches his left leg out trying to touch the ball, but… *smack—!*
With my left foot, I push the ball to the right while dodging his leg, then—*pow—!*
I receive the ball with my right foot and push it forward again.
And I dash ahead with it.
*Tat-tat-tat—!*
That’s one down.
Next.
I drive the ball toward the remaining opponent.
As the distance closes, I subtly push the ball with my right foot, slightly shifting my path.
And I cock my right foot far back.
As if I’m going to send a pass to our right fullback.
*Tat-tat-tat—!*
At that motion, the opponent stretches his leg as if trying to intercept the pass… Sorry, but my pass won’t be caught. I never intended to pass in the first place.
*Slide*
—I step on the ball with my right foot and scrape it with the sole, cutting inside.
Feeling the ball roll behind my left foot, I quickly spin my body around.
And I explosively increase my speed, escaping from both of them.
*Tat-tat-tat—!*
I’m out.
Finally, a wide central space comes into view.
I drew two in and shook them off, so it’s only natural that space has opened up.
Without hesitation, I charge into that space.
That hurdle is cleared.
But there’s no time to revel in breaking the press. I have to push up quickly.
*Tat-tat-tat—!*
Today, Coach Tony emphasized two things.
One was breaking the press, and the other was quick transitions.
I just broke the press, so now it’s time for a quick transition.
As I dribble quickly past the halfway line, I see the opponent’s incontrista (defensive midfielder) being drawn out toward me.
But I look beyond him.
Perhaps because they didn’t expect me to break through the press so easily, the opponent’s defensive shape is quite loose.
Moreover, their line is high, and our striker, Vlahović, is fast on his feet… so now is the time to fire a pass into space.
*Thwaaack—!*
Behind the opponent’s defensive line, but to a position ambiguous enough that the keeper can’t rush out and claim it, I loft the ball low.
The direction is toward the left side of the goal.
Watching Vlahović’s back as he runs toward that pass, I too run toward the box without stopping.
If Vlahović reaches the ball first, he’ll face a 1v1 chance with the keeper, so it might seem like there’s no need to run further, but… on the pitch, you have to account for every situation.
If the keeper parries the shot, the ball could roll out right in front of me.
*Tat-tat-tat—!*
Vlahović was certainly fast.
Shrugging off a defender subtly grabbing his jersey, he reached the ball and gave it a gentle trap, then—*thwaaack—!*
He strikes it immediately.
However… a defender was on him, and since the keeper had rushed out, the shot was slightly rushed.
Too straight down the middle.
*Baaaang—!*
The shot hits the keeper’s body and bounces out.
And that ball… begins to roll out in front of me.
Coach Luca once said something.
That opportunities come to those who are prepared.
As expected, listening to your elders is never a bad thing.
*Thwaaaack—!*
I strike the rolling ball as it is.
The ball rolled perfectly for the shot, and since the keeper had rushed out, the goal was wide open, so there was no reason to hesitate.
*Swoooooosh*
—The shot that flew like that… *swish—!!*
Sucked right into the empty net.
*Waaaaaaah—!!*
Hey, Gim Jiu.
You see that?
Who’s more of a genius.
*The clock on the electronic display stops, and the first half enters stoppage time.
The score is 1-0, Fiorentina leads.
“*Heh heh heh.*”
Coach Tony glances at Coach Luca, who is snickering beside him. Coach Luca has been tapping away at his phone with a huge grin since earlier.
He’s probably taunting that Lazio youth coach in real time.
He looks childish, yet at the same time, it’s understandable.
‘How did this happen…’ Coach Tony clicks his tongue, genuinely impressed.
Since the first half is ending, to briefly summarize… it could be said this was a match whose entire flow changed because of a single player.
Of course, that one player was I Jian.
Truthfully, the start of the match had been very unstable.
Right from the start, the opponent applied strong forward pressure, and failing to calmly deal with that pressure, we conceded a shot as the match began.
Lazio is a team that plays soccer at a very fast tempo.
Once you’re caught up in that tempo, even teams like Juventus or Milan concede heavily—their soccer is that dangerous.
So conceding the ball on the first press was even worse than expected.
Lazio would have pressed even harder from there, and Fiorentina meeting that pressure in a less-organized state had a high chance of completely losing the momentum.
But, right there.
I Jian cut off the flow in an instant.
With a press break of insane level, followed by a counterattacking finish.
Thinking back on it, nothing but admiration comes to mind.
To think he attempted to break a press against two opponents by himself in that dangerous position.
And to succeed at it so easily.
Really, the word “fluid” fit perfectly.
With excellent control sticking the ball right to his feet, concise feints and two-footed dribbling, and a single change of direction to slip between two players… It was only natural that gasps erupted from the stands at that moment.
And the next judgment he made—what more can be said?
Not content with merely breaking the press, he carried the ball and even dropped a lobbed through pass of insane quality right in front of Vlahović’s feet.
But the crazy thing is that the highlight came after that.
Vlahović’s shot was unfortunately blocked and bounced out, and there the boy was standing again.
Someone might say he simply picked up a goal, but they don’t know what they’re talking about.
It was an opportunity unattainable without diligent running.
It was a goal he created himself.
‘That one blow killed the momentum completely. The opponent’s.’
Having conceded a goal so quickly, the opponent naturally had no choice but to falter.
Well, there was still a lot of time left, so they hadn’t completely abandoned the forward press, but they weren’t as aggressive as at the beginning.
Especially when I Jian had the ball, they even showed themselves dropping their line back instead of pressing.
Having been beaten by him once, they must have been afraid to press him easily.
I Jian cleverly used that too; whenever he had the ball, he adjusted the tempo appropriately and brought possession to our side.
That’s why the first half summary had to be put that way.
A match whose flow was changed by a single player.
‘To be honest…’ Coach Tony looks at Lazio’s number 17.
That kid, the so-called prodigy Rika Romero. Honestly, the difference in presence was too great.
The media tried to make an issue out of today’s match as a clash between two genius youths.
Seeing the two on the same field like this, one just thinks:
‘The class of talent is different…’
It wasn’t that Romero couldn’t play.
Making an appearance as a first-team forward for a team like Lazio at that young age is already crazy-level talent.
But… the opponent is simply a monster.
If Romero is amazing for a 16-year-old, I Jian was simply the best player here.
So it feels a bit pitiful.
He hasn’t done anything wrong, yet he’ll be constantly compared going forward.
Well… I think I saw that he did an interview before the match saying he’d show what a real genius is.
Still, this is a bit cruel.
“Wow, this punk blocked me. Hwahahaha!”
Hearing Coach Luca laugh, Coach Tony shook his head.
*3rd minute of the first half.
“Give it again! One more time!”
*10th minute of the first half.
“Give me the ball! Here!”
*25th minute.
“I’m open here too…!”
*40th minute.
“Ball…”
And when the second half began, Rika Romero’s voice, which had been gradually growing smaller, vanished entirely.
Because he had been substituted out the moment the first half ended.
“…”
Rika Romero sits on the bench with a sullen expression, looking at the pitch.
It had been a 16-year life, short if short and long if long, which Romero had lived on confidence alone.
It couldn’t have been otherwise.
Because until now, he had never seen a friend who played soccer better than him.
Romero started soccer at age 5, and wherever he went, he only heard that he was a genius.
At the academy, on age-group teams, and even here in the first team.
Everywhere, he was the youngest and the biggest genius.
Considering that background, perhaps the current Romero is actually the modest type.
Romero goes around telling seniors far older than him to wait just one year because he’ll surpass them, but still, when you think about how he’s lived his whole life hearing only that he’s a genius…
Thanks to that, Romero found it hard to accept the current situation.
“…”
Romero looks at number 20 on the opposing team.
The coach had been talking about him since training.
To be wary of that kid. That he wasn’t at a 16-year-old’s level, and that they had to shut him down to make the game easier.
He had scoffed at the time.
That kid’s also a ’05-born, and isn’t he the most talented among the ’05s anyway?
Romero had clicked his tongue at the coach and seniors making a pointless fuss.
He had just thought he’d show them properly this time. What real talent is.
But… the match flowed a bit strangely.
The start was good… but somehow, that kid was becoming the protagonist of the match.
Even scoring a goal.
While he himself was substituted at the start of the second half, ending up sitting on the bench like this.
‘B-But still! I’m better at breakthroughs, right?’
Romero pouts, thinking.
His pride wouldn’t allow him to accept defeat like this.
He had to find something, anything, that he was better at.
Right. Still, I’m better at breakthroughs.
He doesn’t seem that good at breakthroughs, does he?
Honestly, isn’t dribbling past people a much rarer talent than breaking pressure or passing?
‘Yes! Right!’
I’m super fast! I’m better at breakthroughs! I know a lot of individual skills too!
It was when Romero was nodding to himself in self-comfort like that.
*Baang—!*
That kid receives the ball.
Right in front of Lazio’s bench, of all places.
The kid traps the ball near the left touchline and begins to tap it forward against a defender.
And then… *tat-tat-tat—!*
After completely breaking down the defense, he begins driving toward the center.
H-He can dribble past people too?
That senior who just got beaten by him isn’t an easy opponent!?
But that’s not the end.
*Thwaaaack—!*
The kid who cut inside toward the center takes a shot from in front of the box.
A curling shot with his right foot aimed at the far post… but the trajectory… that trajectory…
‘It’s beautiful!!’
Even in Romero’s eyes, it’s beautiful.
*Swoosh—!!*
Once again the net ripples, and the stadium had grown loud enough to make one’s ears ring.
Rika Romero’s world came crashing down.
“…”
Rika Romero (16).
Feels the wall of talent for the first time in his life.