“Of course, if it were up to us, we’d want to keep him until he retires, but realistically, isn’t that impossible?”
At Director Paolo’s words, everyone nodded along.
Perhaps if he were a release candidate, that would be one thing, but no team sells its ace because they actually want to.
If he’s young, and especially if he absolutely monopolizes the fans’ love, that’s all the more true.
It wouldn’t be wrong to say that no one sends a player away because they want to let him go.
But there is such a thing as practical circumstances.
Unfortunately, the current Serie A is no longer the world’s best league, as it was in the past.
Reputation, popularity, and the money flowing through it.
No matter how you look at it, it’s hard to call it the best.
Fiorentina wasn’t even considered a top team within such a Serie A.
If it were, the many homegrown stars it had produced wouldn’t have left the team.
You only had to look at Federico Chiesa, currently on loan to Juventus.
In short, Fiorentina’s vessel was too small to hold a player who would become the world’s best.
“Lee is a talent who will become the world’s best.”
He is a player they would have to send away someday.
If so, what’s important is ultimately the timing.
If they had to let him go anyway, they needed to pick the best possible timing from the team’s perspective as well.
It wasn’t an easy problem.
It wasn’t good to bite at a decent offer that came in, but holding on forever wasn’t the answer either.
The offer that seemed decent might turn out to have been given away for a pittance later on, and if they simply held on and missed the window for a contract renewal, they could end up being forced to sell the player, swallowing their tears.
In the end, it’s all about timing.
To put it bluntly, it means selling the player when they can get the highest price for him.
It might sound too mercenary, but it couldn’t be helped.
Fiorentina was not a club with sound finances. Other than selling players, there was no means to earn a large sum of money from time to time.
For them, selling players while they could was a means of survival.
“Honestly, I don’t know when his peak will be. I don’t know how far he’ll go. If I knew that, I’d be a prophet.”
Director Paolo said with a chuckle.
“But what is certain is that it’s not now. He debuted in the first team at sixteen and has scored eight goals in six matches since his debut—two of them against Juventus at that. Even so, this is not his peak. He’s not the kind of talent whose peak is merely this level.”
Director Paolo narrowed his eyes and wore a faint smile.
Suddenly, the day he first saw Lee Jian came to mind.
The time when he dominated the match against Empoli U17 and hammered in three goals.
The shock he had felt then seemed to course through his body again, and Director Paolo scratched the back of his neck.
Whether in person or through the media, when he thought of the names of players who had given him that level of shock upon first seeing them—
Every single one of them was a player who had risen to the ranks of the world’s best.
“Even if the season ended right now, I believe Lee’s value would soar even higher. However, if just one more season passes from there… then this current proposal might truly look like pocket change. He’ll prove that his talent is real on a bigger stage.”
“If you mean a bigger stage…”
“European competition. It could be the Europa League, and the Champions League would be even better.”
Director Paolo nodded as if certain and continued.
“Even if he wins the league scoring title, even if he receives the league MVP… if it’s the French league, he won’t gain much recognition. Not if he’s a player with no European competition experience.”
“We aren’t in the French league…”
“Yes, well, it’s not that bad. But it’s true that we’re not at the level of the Premier League or La Liga. People aren’t as interested in who the Serie A top scorer is or what the Season Best XI looks like as you might think. They all know who the Premier League top scorer is, though.”
“Hmm…”
“Philippe Coutinho, who played for Liverpool, went to Barcelona for a transfer fee exceeding one hundred and thirty million euros. If he had played in Serie A, would he have recorded such a fee? Likewise, if Vlahović had played in the Premier League, eighty million euros would have been considered cheap.”
Director Paolo said with a shrug, then returned to the main point.
“So what I’m saying is, it’s hard to receive full value based on league performance alone. Hmm. It’s not my favorite expression, but I’ll call it verification. If Lee goes through Champions League verification, his market value will shoot through the roof. He’ll draw the attention of all of Europe. Honestly, isn’t that right? The perception of Serie A forwards isn’t great. It’ll be difficult to have his true value recognized based only on league performance.”
Strange, but true.
There was a feeling that defenders from Serie A were already fully verified, but forwards from Serie A always had a tag of suspicion attached to them.
Even though it was difficult to play as a forward in a league boasting outstanding defensive prowess, the perception was strangely that way.
Perhaps it was because there were so many cases of forwards who performed greatly in Serie A and then failed after moving to other leagues.
Anyway.
When Director Paolo finished speaking there… someone raised their hand and asked.
It was a man who looked even more stubborn than Director Paolo, going by appearance alone.
“What if the verification fails? If he performs well in the Champions League, then everything you’re saying is correct… but shouldn’t we consider the possibility that he might not? Then all his performances until now could turn out to be a bubble, couldn’t they?”
It wasn’t a wrong thing to say.
Director Paolo nodded as well.
And he said,
“Then let’s take a simple vote. Do you think he’ll do well in the Champions League too, or that the bubble will burst? Those of you who hold the latter opinion, please raise your hands first.”
Having said so, Director Paolo looked around the room for a moment, smiled, and nodded.
“No one has raised their hand, so I won’t proceed further.”
Usually, front office members of a club were seen as icons of incompetence, like politicians, but they weren’t fools.
The talent Lee Jian had shown until now was no bubble, no matter who looked at it.
It was the real deal, without a shred of doubt.
“I think the summer after next is the right time. Well, it could happen sooner, because there’s a possibility we might fail to advance to the Champions League knockout stage. Anyway, by that time, even the level of offer Juventus has made now will seem like nothing. That’s what I think.”
No matter how foolish a person may be, if they just wait a year and it’s like printing money, there is no one who cannot wait for that.
So everyone nodded, but then the man who had looked so stubborn earlier spoke up again.
“But anyway, that’s assuming we qualify for European competition next season, right? We might not qualify.”
“I believe we can qualify.”
“Even without Vlahović?”
“Without Vlahović, it might even be hard to reach the Champions League. However, without Lee, we won’t even make the Europa League. Think about it. Who has been the center of the team in the last six matches?”
There were no further objections or questions.
The meeting seemed to wrap up simply like this, and Director Paolo nodded.
“…”
In truth, everything that had been said so far was just to persuade the front office of this small-to-midsize club that was merchant to the bone.
Not that he had lied, of course.
But suggesting they wait a bit longer wasn’t solely for those reasons.
Director Paolo wanted to see Lee Jian playing at a much higher level.
Money wasn’t the issue. In fact, with no set buyout clause, they could have kept him on the team for several more years and sold him at the very end.
But in Director Paolo’s mind, Lee Jian wasn’t a talent to swim in the narrow waters of Italy.
Everyone has heard the story of the fish that grows only ten centimeters in a small fishbowl but grows over a meter in a river.
Lee Jian was a whale.
But even that whale could become a minnow if raised in a small fishbowl. Director Paolo wanted Lee Jian to play in wide waters.
He wanted him to run, fight, win, and lose alongside greater geniuses on a wider stage, and fully bloom his talent.
Director Paolo wanted the world to feel the thrill he had felt when he first saw Lee Jian.
It was the same feeling as wanting to share truly delicious food or wanting to show truly magnificent scenery.
Money wasn’t what mattered.
Yet Director Paolo, who was closer to a merchant than anyone and who thought nothing was more important than money, thought exactly that.
Lee Jian was a child who needed to go to a world-class team.
Only the timing was the issue.
∙∙∙
The days following the match against Juventus were the happiest days I’d had in recent years.
In many ways, my heart felt light.
It had been an important victory for the team, and an important victory for me personally, so it was only natural.
Moreover, the league was about to enter its winter break, and school was going on vacation, so for the time being I had nothing to worry about.
Thanks to that, after a long time, I had slept deeply for those few days. Without waking up once, at that.
I slept so well that I actually woke to the sound of my alarm. Normally, I would always open my eyes on my own about ten minutes before the alarm went off.
That was how at ease my mind was.
If I had just one worry, it was what to do during the winter vacation.
I was on vacation, Jiu was on break, and Dad had said he would definitely take his vacation this year.
The biggest worry was what the three of us would do to enjoy the year-end.
But perhaps that comfort and happiness were only for those who had experienced them often enough to deserve them.
My peace of mind didn’t last long.
Because I didn’t know how to wisely handle comfort.
December 16th.
We played our last league match before entering the winter break.
The opponent was a team called Spezia Calcio, currently sitting in 17th place.
I wasn’t in the starting eleven.
It was because my condition was poor.
Regardless of my mindset, my body felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton. I couldn’t play properly in training.
I wanted to blame it on having poured everything into the match against Juventus, but it couldn’t be an excuse because my senior teammates showed no difference from usual.
I was simply intoxicated.
With my body and mind at ease, there was no way I could maintain my condition properly. The reason I had even been able to be here in the first place was because of a sense of desperation.
Lately, things had gone a little too well, so I had foolishly forgotten that.
Sitting on the bench like that, watching my senior teammates guard the pitch as usual… I suddenly felt deeply ashamed.
How could I put it?
It was something like this.
The feeling of coming to a buffet for the first time, unable to contain my joy, piling my plate high with food, and then spilling it all.
That I couldn’t even manage my condition, overwhelmed with happiness over something so trivial, felt like it revealed that I had lived without knowing what happiness truly was. It was humiliating.
While sitting on the bench, my heart was uneasy the entire time.
My senior teammates were acting like professionals, calmly approaching the match after quickly shaking off the joy.
I felt self-loathing at being swayed by my emotions so unprofessionally and being unable to help the team.
If the match ended like this and vacation began, I didn’t have confidence that I could fully enjoy the vacation.
I felt like I would be tormented by an uncomfortable and impatient heart the entire time.
So I suddenly thought about mustering my courage. I agonized over whether to ask the coach to let me play, even for ten minutes—no, five.
But I couldn’t readily work up the courage.
So while I was just hesitating and worrying alone, another thought occurred to me.
Would my old self have agonized and felt self-loathing over something like this?
My old self would have been grateful not to have to play in such a situation.
But the fact that I was now worrying like this meant that I had changed a lot.
Perhaps that was why.
Courage surged through me, and I told the coach that I wanted to play, even if just for a little while.
“Whew—”
And so I stepped onto the pitch in the 37th minute of the second half.
My body was heavy, but as I came onto the pitch, my mind grew lighter instead.
It was a strange thing.
That my heart was uncomfortable on the bench but at ease on the field.
It was strange and unfamiliar, but that was my honest feeling.
Well, in the end, I wasn’t able to score a goal or register an assist before the match ended.
The match simply ended as it was, and we claimed victory over Spezia.
But my heart felt much lighter, and I made a resolution.
That I would definitely improve my stamina over the winter vacation and return.
I was simply being pure, without a single other reason.
I just wanted to play football better.