I'm not the broad-minded type.
If anything, I'm closer to being very timid and small-minded.
Maybe that's why.
As I was heading out for the second half, that thought suddenly crossed my mind.
I wished the kids who'd been with me on the Juventus U17 team were watching this match.
Because if those guys saw me now, they'd be incredibly jealous.
They're probably still in the youth team, while I—who they used to bully—am playing in Serie A against the first-team players they worship like gods.
Would they have known? That I'd end up like this.
They probably didn't.
...Since I didn't know either.
"Hoo—"
Anyway, thinking that put me in a good mood.
The corners of my mouth just kept rising on their own.
I couldn't argue even if someone called me petty.
I am petty, so what.
What are you going to do about it.
Pa-aang—!
I one-touched the ball coming toward me and moved.
The opponent still seemed eager to pressure me, but I wouldn't let them catch me easily.
Exchanging one-twos with nearby teammates, I kept possession as if taunting them.
Normally, my breathing would be hitting my chin by now. Since I'd expended a lot of energy in the first half as well, it might have been the point where I'd raise my hand asking for an early substitution.
But right now, my body felt light.
Like the new jersey I'd changed into for the second half, my body felt refreshed, as good as new.
So without realizing it, I smiled several times as I kicked the ball.
The opponent probably didn't like that.
Heoeoeok—!
As I trapped the ball and turned, stars spun before my eyes.
For a moment I thought I'd hit a wall, but after falling on my ass and looking up, it was a person's chest.
...So a person's chest can be this hard.
If I flex too...
"You little bastard!"
"Hey! Can't you play fair?"
While I was thinking useless thoughts, sharp shouts rang out around me.
The seniors were shouting and swarming around me.
"Does that bastard want to die?"
No, but this is amazing.
How is it that Senior Milenković, a center-back, was the first to brush past my side?
Guess the captain's words that he's a guy who plays soccer just to fight were true.
"You okay? Stay here for a second."
Someone put their hand under my armpit to lift me up, and when I looked, it was Senior Saponara.
In fact, not only our seniors but also the opposing players were swarming in, making the area around me turn hostile.
So I was wondering if I should join the fight too... but Senior Saponara pulled me out, allowing me to escape from the middle of it.
Hmm.
Still, shouldn't I at least put up some kind of action?
"Let me go. I too...!"
"Hey, stay still right here. What if you get hurt? Leave the dirty work to your seniors."
When I tried to shake off Senior Saponara's hand, he hugged me even tighter.
Whew.
Thank goodness.
I'd been worried he might let me go, telling me to be a man about it.
Hm... but...
"...Aren't you going, Senior?"
"...Huh?"
"Could it be, Senior..."
"Ah, no way. You think I'd be doing this because I'm scared! Ha, it's because someone needs to stay and protect you!"
...Why does it feel like his own feet have gone numb?
Did someone say something?
Well, I had to preserve the senior's dignity anyway, so I just thanked him.
"Beep! Beep! Beep!"
As the situation overheated, the referee squeezed between the players, blowing his whistle multiple times like a traffic cop.
But it didn't look like it would calm down easily.
Our excited seniors were rushing in as if to kill them, and the opponents, who had nothing to gain from dragging out time, were pushing those seniors away.
But the next moment, the situation was completely reversed.
The opponent who had been holding our guys back suddenly started rushing toward the referee.
That's when the referee's hand produced one yellow card and one red card alternately.
"Whoa, time flies. Right?"
"...It sure does."
I watched that scene enjoyably together with Senior Saponara.
*
"Don't come down! Stay up!"
I nodded at the seniors' shouts and stopped my steps.
With their feet to the fire after the sending-off, the opponents were managing the game in a do-or-die fashion.
They'd pulled their line up overall and started coming out more aggressively, to the extreme point where they'd left only the bare minimum number of players in the back.
So I considered dropping back to a lower position for defensive cover, but trusting my seniors, I held my position.
Protecting one goal is important, but what's even better is pulling away by one more.
And that is my role.
As I was thinking that and steadying my feet that kept trying to move.
Pa-aang—!
I saw the opponent's cross being cut off by the captain's foot.
And the captain passed the intercepted ball to Senior Bonaventura.
The moment I checked that—
"..."
"..."
Vlahović and I, who had turned our bodies at the same time, made eye contact.
It was only for a brief moment, but I felt like I could see his thoughts in that gaze.
Had he read my thoughts just as I had read his?
Tatatat—!
Vlahović and I simultaneously took our respective directions and ran.
Based on the goal, Vlahović to the left, me to the right.
The opposing defenders running alongside us were only two.
Ppeoeoeoeong—!
Hearing the sound of a long pass being sprayed, I slightly turned my head to check behind while running.
It's coming to my side.
The low, fast pass was flying toward the space opening up before me.
Tatatat—!
I ran with power firmly in my legs.
The grass was still quite damp, so it was easy to slip if I rushed.
Shuuuuung—
Senior Bonaventura's pass was curving to the right anyway, so it was a ball I'd reach even if I just ran at a moderate pace.
Tatatat—
Pa-aang—!
Like that, I trapped the ball that fell near the right half-space.
And gathering the ball, I drove diagonally toward the opponent's goal.
Only one defender blocked my path.
Same on Vlahović's opposite side.
If so... here, rather than forcing a pass, it was better to boldly go one-on-one.
Tuk, tuk—
While I was settling the ball, the defender who had taken position first hesitated and stepped back.
Matching that hesitant rhythm, I approached while tapping the ball to the outside of my left foot.
I didn't know how far he intended to retreat, but a little further in and I'd be inside the box.
It was the point where either the defender or I had to make a decision... so I moved first.
Tuk—!
I went off-beat against the opponent's hesitating rhythm.
Shifting my weight to the right while pushing the ball to the left.
Tatat—!
At my movement, the opponent staggered and hurriedly chased.
But I moved one step ahead from there.
Pa-aang—!
I folded the ball back diagonally to the right.
At that motion, the opponent who was already late to react turned his body again to change direction.
But in that process,
Swaaa—!
His feet slipped, and the opponent's legs split wide.
Though he didn't fall completely, passing by the opponent who was showing his back with his hands on the ground was easy.
Brushing past the back that had 'Bonucci' written on it, I succeeded in the breakthrough.
Tatat—!
Having successfully penetrated into the box like that, I put all my weight on my right foot.
Ppeoeoeoeoeoeong—!
As expected, I locked my ankle and struck hard.
That shot shot diagonally across the box toward the far post.
Swaaaaa—
The speed of the shot grazing across the dew-covered grass was astonishing even to me.
So it was only natural that the keeper's outstretched hand was far too late.
Thwack—!!
My second goal shook the net, and when I suddenly turned my head to look back, the Juventus players were slumped on the ground.
*
As the second half wore on, the opponents' feet grew heavier.
Having lost a man while already losing, they must have had to run twice as hard.
The additional goal that burst forth in that situation seemed to steal even what little strength they had left.
"Yeeeeees—!"
In the end, we scored one more goal before the 80th minute.
Vlahović drove in my through pass from the center with his left foot, hammering the final nail in the coffin.
It was a bit of a shame to see spectators leaving their seats as soon as that goal went in.
They should watch a bit more before leaving.
"Good work!"
"Just how good are you planning to get?"
"Stop being so good, you bastard! It's getting scary now!"
A little past the 80th minute, I was substituted and left the ground.
Given the opponent and the score, I accepted my seniors' fussing as only natural.
Right now, it felt like anything would be permitted.
"Beep, bweeek, bwiiik—!"
Like that, when all 90 minutes had passed and the whistle blew signaling the end of the match.
We all let out cheers and poured onto the ground.
After that, I don't really remember.
When I came to my senses, I was already inside the locker room, surrounded by nothing but naked guys dancing around.
...I'd been thinking of doing a video call with Jiu after the match today.
I think I'll have to give up on that.
I can't go corrupting Jiu's eyes.
"...Hm?"
I'd been frowning and looking down because of the naked guys, when I belatedly realized I was holding a white jersey in my hand.
Why do I have a Juventus jersey?
...Ah, I remember.
After the match, while sharing the joy with seniors on the ground, someone had come and suggested swapping jerseys.
Number 10 on the back.
The name written there is Dybala.
Hmm. Now that I think about it, I remember his face being incredibly handsome.
I took out my phone in the locker room.
As expected, messages from Jiu were already piled up.
Jiu: Yaaaaaaaaah
Jiu: You were soooo gooooood
Jiu: Aww, you precious bastardㅜㅜㅜㅜㅜ
Jiu: Noona's cryingㅜㅜㅜㅜㅜㅜㅜ
Geez, the cringe...
I snickered and sent a reply.
Me: You told me to win and come back
Me: So I won
Me: But hey, after it ended
Me: did you see me swapping jerseys?
As soon as I sent that, a reply came.
Jiu: Swapping jerseys? I saw
Jiu: The camera kept focusing on you, right?
Jiu: But why???
Hmm...
I scratched my head and sent a reply.
Me: The person who swapped jerseys with me
Me: was handsome, right?
...This time, the reply didn't come immediately.
Even after waiting a while, there was no response.
Finally, a reply came after 5 minutes.
Jiu: I don't know? I couldn't really tell
Jiu: Guess he wasn't my style so I didn't look closely
Jiu: O_S_O;
Checking that reply...
Ugh, why is this happening.
My cheekbones just keep rising.
How strange, really...
"..."
I pushed down my cheekbones with my hand and turned on an internet search.
And I searched if there was a shopping mall in downtown Turin.
I thought I should at least buy some gifts.
No, just.
We beat Juventus. So I'm in a good mood, so I can buy some gifts to take back...
...
"Th-this way, please. This way."
"Open it. Hurry!"
Maurizio, who had left the stands and was walking down the corridor, turned pale.
Because fans who had left the stadium earlier were destroying all the corridor fixtures as they exited.
If caught here, he might really be killed.
Maurizio entered through the staff-only emergency exit as if making an emergency escape, and only then let out a sigh.
"Fucking hell..."
A curse slipped out.
What the hell kind of spectacle is this?
0-3 at home?
And to lose while conceding two goals to that brat, of all people?
Does this make any sense?
"Che cazzo..."
I'd told them to make sure not even the tip of his nose was visible.
Not showing his nose tip my ass.
Only that brat was visible. Only him.
And for the entire match!
"...I think I've properly fucked this up."
Worry settled on Maurizio's face.
No matter how much he thought, there was no answer.
Just from seeing the atmosphere at the scene earlier, public opinion among the fans must be at its worst because of today's match.
To let go of a prospect like that for free, while spending 80 million euros on an older striker.
They might throw rocks asking where such retards exist.
It's not a metaphorical expression.
The fans here are the type to actually throw rocks and then some.
"..."
Maurizio, walking down the corridor, urgently took out a phone from his pocket.
And called somewhere.
Soon after the other party answered, Maurizio spat out abruptly.
"Money!"
"...Excuse me?"
"The funds allocated for this winter's signings!"
"Ah, yes. Please speak."
"That, we need to change the direction a bit."
"Direction..."
"We need to change the target. Slightly to the side."
"Ah, understood. I'll schedule a meeting for tomorrow."
Maurizio nodded and hung up.
Either way, things were fucked regardless.
But there was still exactly one way left to go from 'retarded bastards' to just 'idiot bastards'.
He might have to get down on his knees before a 16-year-old player, but...
There really was no other way.