A Fake Like the Real -2
"Let's give it our best, Ricardo."
"Yeah, Ricardo."
The two Ricardos clasp hands and prepare for the match.
They are Fiorentina's forwards, Ricardo Saponara and Ricardo Sottil.
"Whew—"
Both of them look quite nervous, and Saponara in particular is shaking his legs so much they're practically chattering.
It's been a while since he's been in the starting lineup.
He'd stepped onto the pitch occasionally as a substitute in the meantime, but it had really been a long time since he'd started.
He had been drifting away from the starting lineup due to tactical issues and personal form, but thanks to the A-match schedule, he had gained a precious opportunity.
"I really need to do well."
Saponara says with a sigh-like voice as he ties his bootlaces.
When he looks back, he's already thirty.
Well, thirty isn't that old, but... Saponara had been feeling a deepening sense of anxiety with each passing year.
It was because his position within the team was gradually narrowing.
In fact, Saponara was a player who had peaked at a very young age.
Immediately after his professional debut, he established himself as a core player for Empoli FC and drew attention; especially since he had played as an ace for Italy's age-group national teams and was even hailed as the future of the Azzurri.
However, as various problems piled up, Saponara's growth curve was cut short early on.
He had joined AC Milan with great expectations, but his inability to get on the pitch much and wasting two years was the fatal cause.
After experiencing failure like that, his confidence had plummeted. Perhaps because of that. He returned to Empoli after his time at Milan, but the kind of play he showed in the old days simply wouldn't come out.
Thanks to that, Saponara had no choice but to hear himself called a failed prospect.
What he chose to overcome that slump was a loan to Fiorentina.
He approached it with a mindset of putting everything down and starting over from the beginning. Fortunately, the team gave him a lot of help and consideration, and his old form began to resurface little by little.
It seemed like a second prime was on its way.
But then a prodigy named Dusan Vlahovic emerged.
Vlahovic quickly became the team's core, and everything began to revolve around him.
Saponara, who had a distinctly offensive orientation, naturally had no choice but to be pushed out of the starting lineup.
Because of that, this was a time of much worry.
Since Fiorentina was the team that had helped him get through difficult times, Saponara wanted to devote himself more to the team, but... no path was visible.
He was in a position where he had to be satisfied with just stepping onto the pitch occasionally as a substitute.
The opportunity he seized in that situation was today. Because it was a chance that had come luckily, and might be his last.
Saponara was desperate today.
Because of that, his usual playfulness was nowhere to be seen today.
"Whew..."
Fortunately, his condition during training had been good.
Above all, the feeling when he matched his breathing with Ijian had been incredibly good.
He had to play a supporting role, a little different from his original style, but it didn't matter at all.
Rather, he wanted to do so.
Because when he looked at the kid, it somehow made him think of the old days.
"Let's go, let's go!"
"It's a tournament! Lose and you're out, so let's get our heads on straight and go!"
Saponara drew the sign of the cross with trembling hands and headed for the pitch.
*
Standing in the middle of the center circle, I look toward the opponent's half. The players in yellow kits are all looking at me.
I'd never thought about it before, but taking the kickoff seems like quite a burdensome thing.
"Let's go, let's go!"
"Forza—!"
For some reason, I feel like I've become the representative of our team, so instead of avoiding those gazes, I square my shoulders.
I don't know about other times, but while wearing the purple kit, I can't show weakness to the opponent.
Today's opponent, Hellas Verona, was said to be a team currently 14th in the league.
Also, they had faced each other in the league before I was promoted to the first team, and apparently we had won 3-0 back then.
Vlahovic had recorded a hat trick, at that.
Honestly, I feel the pressure.
No matter how different the role is, at any rate, the position I will take today is the front-line striker, Vlahovic's position.
It means I have to take responsibility for the team's goals just the same.
Even I think it's a bit funny.
That I'm replacing Vlahovic, the most closely watched striker in Europe.
Only today, even if it's just one match, the pressure is enormous.
So I try not to think about such things as much as possible. In that regard, the fact that my role today is extremely complicated is rather welcome.
Because I'm busy enough just thinking about what I have to do.
"Beep—!"
The whistle blows, and the match begins with my awkward kickoff.
Today's formation is 4-3-3.
To my left is Saponara hyung, and to my right is Sottil hyung, forming the front line with me.
It's the first time playing a match with this combination, but our chemistry during training wasn't bad.
In particular, Saponara hyung really looked out for me.
Saponara hyung, who has great work rate and physicality, even took on defensive duties that should have been my share, and in attack, he ran an extra step instead of me to create space for me.
According to hyung, since he wasn't a starter anyway, he had plenty of stamina left, and he was just running because he was desperate, but...
I figured it was likely consideration so that I wouldn't feel burdened, since it was my first time standing in this position.
For hyung, if nothing else, I wanted to do my part.
Thwack—
Thwack—
While our team slowly circulates the ball, I take a position between the opponent's defensive lines and begin the match.
And I run slowly while observing the defense's movements.
No, I tried to.
Tok—!
A light impact from behind breaks my concentration. I glance back and see a bulky defender backing away.
The ball wasn't even coming to me.
Is he trying to break my spirit in advance?
If that's the case, I think I can evaluate it as quite a good idea.
Because I'm actually starting to get a bit scared.
Suddenly, Vlahovic hyung becomes admirable.
How does hyung fight against defenders like that every match?
Since I can't do that, I should move away from this spot first.
Taptaptap—!
I break away from the defensive line and drop down to the lower area.
And I gauge the defense's reaction.
There are two possible reactions.
They follow me up, or they hold their position.
Which will it be?
"..."
The opponent shows no reaction.
They've chosen to hold their position.
Then without hesitation, I raise my hand and demand the ball.
Thwack—!
Immediately, a pass flows to me.
I turn my head slightly and see that instead of a defender, the opponent's defensive midfielder is sticking to me.
But he isn't threatening.
Because we have the greater numbers in midfield.
Thwack—!
I one-touch the pass again and move.
Since I, a forward, have dropped into midfield in terms of formation, there's inevitably at least one extra man in midfield.
In the end, one man becomes free, so possessing the ball isn't difficult.
Thwack—!
The defender marking me is drawn to the ball, and a return pass comes to me again.
I trap that pass, and this time I turn forward.
The space laid out before me is quite wide.
That space between midfield and defense.
I leisurely dribble the ball up toward that space.
I deliberately take even more time.
So that the opponent feels like they want to steal the ball.
Taptaptap—!
Hm. I didn't know it would work this quickly, though.
Did I look that cheeky?
I see one defender finally leave his position and rush out.
Whoa. Scary.
It's scary... but it's fine.
Because I'm not the one who'll deal with him anyway.
Taptaptap—!
As soon as one defender vacates his position, I see the wingers on both sides dash diagonally toward the center as if they'd been waiting.
It's a movement to exploit the central area where only one defender remains.
Of course, the opponent's fullbacks follow them inside too, but I can play a pass that leaves them behind well enough.
Right now... the left looks better.
Thwaaack—!
After locking my ankle, I strongly stab an inside pass.
It's a through pass sent ahead into the path of Saponara, who is penetrating from the left toward the center.
I set the direction so that it would go between the fullback chasing him from behind and the lone central defender.
Swooosh—
Fortunately, the pass went exactly where I intended.
Now I just hope Saponara finishes it...
Tok—
Boom—!
Unfortunately, his shot goes wide of the goal.
It felt like he put too much power into the strike. The shot rose and went over the goalpost.
But the process was good.
Everyone had good movement and succeeded in penetrating the danger zone relatively easily, even succeeding in finishing the attack with a shot.
So just as I was about to give Saponara hyung a thumbs up...
Smack—!
The sound of a hand striking bare skin rang out.
Thanks to that, I was slightly taken aback.
"Sorry, sorry!"
Saponara hyung was apologizing while hitting his own head with his palm.
"..."
It's very bewildering.
I don't think it's something to blame himself for that much.
Especially since Saponara hyung usually has a playful personality, it's even more bewildering.
...Is that how desperate hyung is?
I think I somehow know how he feels.
Because until just a short while ago, I too had left no stone unturned just to play in a match once.
"..."
Looking at Saponara hyung's head, where the red mark of his palm remained, I suddenly thought that I wanted to create a goal together today no matter what.
*
The opponent was quite cautious.
As if their goal was to secure a draw for 90 minutes, they seemed focused only on setting up a thick defensive line.
I think it's probably because today's match is a tournament game.
Because in a tournament, there are ways to advance even with a draw.
Anyway, thanks to that, we had possession for most of the time, but couldn't easily knock on the goal.
I check the scoreboard for a moment and see that it's already past the 20th minute of the first half.
It's about time we scored...
Tok—
I catch the ball and look forward.
Maybe because of what happened earlier, now the opponent doesn't rush at me easily even when I have the ball.
They simply hold their positions to a suffocating degree.
Because of that, there's no visible space to pass into easily.
It means the opponent has caught on. That I'm a fake striker.
Then... I think the time has come to move like a real striker.
I have to get in. Like a real striker.
The thought of squeezing into those narrow gaps makes my breath catch, but it's better than being found out as a fake.
I have to look like the real thing.
...In more ways than one.
Taptaptap—!
I dribble forward.
At the same time, I keep scattering my gaze left and right.
At that gaze, our team's attackers move, and the opponent's defenders move too.
However, the central defenders seem to hold their position as is.
Then, what's needed now is movement that makes them nothing but surplus resources.
Taptaptap—!
As I reach between midfield and the last line of defense, I see Saponara on the left cutting inside toward the center.
I pass it to him.
Thwack—!
And I run to the left.
As Saponara came inside, the opponent's fullback was dragged along too, and thanks to that, I could see space opening on the left.
But the opponent's central defenders will have a hard time coming to get me.
Not only is Saponara in the center having received my pass, but Sottil on the right is also penetrating into the box.
In that situation, it's not easy to vacate the center to stop me.
Taptaptap—!
I circle inside from the left and enter the box.
At the same time, I prepare to receive a pass.
Honestly, even if a defender sticks to me and the pass doesn't come to me, that's fine. Because it means the center opens up eventually.
But if the pass comes, I'm ready.
At this moment, I too have to believe I'm a real striker.
Thwack—!
I see the ball slipping through the gap in the defense.
Saponara poked a pass to the left.
Taptap—!
But I'm slightly wrong-footed.
I was penetrating forward, but the pass was directed slightly behind.
I slam on the brakes with my left foot, then stretch my right leg far back.
And,
Sssk—!
I sweep the ball in toward my body.
At the same time, I check the goalkeeper's position with my eyes.
He was stuck quite close to the near post, so the far post was open.
Every goal chance is like that, but right now, since it's a pass from Saponara hyung, I want to score it even more.
Therefore, I'm even more careful.
Tok—
I nudge the ball slightly into a good position for a right-footed strike,
Thwaaack—!
Rather than hitting it hard, accurately.
I look at the far post and curl it.
Shhwoooosh—
For a moment, seeing the ball heading outside the goal frame, I wondered if I aimed too far outside, but...
Shhhwoosh—
Soon the ball curls and its trajectory changes.
Swish—!!
The curled ball rode along the side netting and shook the goal net.
Waaaaaaah—!
At the same time, a massive roar burst out.
And...
"Uwoooooah!"
I saw Saponara hyung flailing both arms wildly and running toward me.
So I ran away toward the corner flag for now.
It felt like the fear I'd felt because of the captain during the Inter match was being recreated.
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