I'm the type to think a lot by nature.
I am in everyday life, and especially so on the pitch.
What's the best way to play here, how should I carry out the next play.
What are the opponent's weaknesses, what are they thinking, and what should we do.
Because of those thoughts, when I'm on the field, I sometimes feel like my head is busier than my body.
However, there are times when my body moves before my head.
Just now was one of those times.
"What the hell, seriously. Are you crazy?"
"Why so surprised? It's not like you've only known the youngest for a day or two."
"I see him every day, but that just now was amazing."
"How many moves ahead are you reading? You loft the ball from there to get it over the defense, and spot the angle for an immediate strike?"
Seniors crowded around me saying it was a perfect calculation, and though that wasn't the truth, I didn't bother to correct them.
Actually, in the past, whenever this kind of play happened, anxiety came first.
A play not calculated by the head, but one my body made on its own.
Because it felt like it wasn't my skill.
If it's skill, you should be able to play the same way the next time the same situation comes—that's skill—but this wasn't like that.
How should I put it? It felt like guessing the answer to a difficult problem rather than calculating it.
So rather than joy, anxiety came first.
I hated feeling like I was accumulating more hype for no reason.
But now, it's not like that.
Partly because I always kept in mind what Coach Luca had told me—that there are no coincidences on the field.
And...
"Hey. I know your secret..."
"...What secret?"
"That just now, it was a fluke, right? It had to be a fluke!"
Rika Romero, who started the game together with me today, came up and whispered with a face full of jealousy.
I shrugged and answered.
"A fluke? No. This is called Puma's technological prowess."
"What...!"
"Puma's exclusive Netfit system makes powerful shooting possible anytime, anywhere."
Thinking it was all thanks to Puma put my mind at ease. Half of it was a joke, but half was sincere.
"As expected of Puma...!"
The people in charge ought to know.
That I'm going this far for Puma.
*
"How's your stamina? Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm fine."
"Good. There's no need to overdo it, so raise your hand anytime if you get tired."
"Yes."
In the thick of the second half.
Taking the opportunity while the game was briefly stopped, I was moistening my mouth when Coach spoke to me.
After nodding and answering, I placed the water bottle back and returned to my position.
Checking the scoreboard, it was the 78th minute.
The score was 2–0.
I scored the opener, and Rika Romero added another, and we were doing well to maintain that lead.
Torino, today's opponent, wasn't exactly a difficult one. Their defense was whatever, but their attack wasn't particularly threatening.
It wasn't that I was looking down on them, but it meant our defense was that good.
So I didn't feel any sense of crisis that we might lose the lead.
Not just me, but the Manager seemed to think so too, giving orders not to sit back but to score more.
The match was still under our control.
So it seemed there wouldn't be a problem even if I came off around now. Our team wasn't one to weaken just because I came off, and I was quite tired too.
But for some reason, I didn't want to raise my hand.
In other words, I didn't feel like leaving the pitch by substitution at this point to rest.
It was because I had a desire to keep running.
Even I found this side of me amazing.
A desire to run more.
This was slightly different from the desperation of having to play somehow, of having to show a good performance.
I simply, purely wanted to play more football.
When I think about how I ended up changing like this, I think it's probably because I feel it myself.
The feeling that I seem to grow with each and every match.
That was the case even just moments ago.
If it were the old me, I would have felt anxiety before joy at such a goal, but now it wasn't like that.
The old me and the current me.
The droplets of sweat shed during the countless days in between had changed me.
When I think like that, I can't rest even if I want to.
Because I don't know what realization might be hidden within the remaining ten minutes until the end of the match.
We play matches every week, unfolding 90 minutes under the same rules each time, but each match flows differently. There is no match where all situations flow identically.
They say if you play 100 matches, 100 different matches unfold.
Therefore, I couldn't take a single minute or second lightly. Thinking that every minute and second ahead was a new experience I hadn't had before, I hated the thought of losing out on that experience.
Just as the minutes and seconds of the past came together to make the current me, thinking that the minutes and seconds ahead would determine the future me... I couldn't spend time in vain.
It wasn't amazing that I was greedy; perhaps it was only natural.
"Hey!"
"Here!"
I was a child with far more shortcomings than others.
That's why there was much I could learn.
What was obvious to others was a lesson and realization to me.
In the past I hated myself for being so lacking, but now I even feel grateful for it.
Because it means there's plenty of room to grow further.
Seeing myself grown is a joyful, addictive thing, and being lacking means there are still many more days to feel that... so it's something to be grateful for.
I had learned quite a lot during that time, and gained realizations from it, but...
Even so, there was still much I didn't know, and new realizations kept coming.
That means there is still much left to realize.
Maybe there is no end to it. It might continue until death.
Thinking that, I couldn't rest even if I wanted to.
Thwack—!
I receive the ball on the right flank.
The ball had been on the left for a long while before a sudden switch pass came across, so I received it with plenty of space.
So without hesitation, I quickly drive forward.
Tat-tat—!
Driving toward the opposing fullback blocking my path... after briefly checking beyond him, I cut left, that is, toward the center.
Tat-tat—!
I move inward, drawing a line parallel to the box line.
And when I see enough angle...
Bbaaaaang—!
Loading weight onto my left foot, I curled it in.
A shot curled to the outside, targeting the empty space to the left of the goal...
The moment it connected, I could already guess to some degree.
When I felt this sensation at the tip of my foot, it was usually a goal.
Suddenly, that thought crosses my mind.
Isn't confidence something that comes from the experience of having succeeded?
Whoosh—
Thwack—!!
The ball, which seemed to fly wide of the goal, curved and was sucked inside, and a huge roar erupted from the stands.
I suppose the crowd cheers like that every time a goal goes in because no two goals are alike under the sun.
"Yaaaaah!"
"That trajectory is insane! What are you trying to do, scoring two wonder goals in one game!"
This is why I can't help but be greedy. If I had thought of it as time just passing and come off the pitch early via substitution, I would have missed this experience forever.
"Damn it, Puma again!"
"Of course. Cutting-edge knit material technology provides grip..."
"I got it! I'll buy them, so stop!"
At this rate, what if I really become greedy?
Hmm.
I don't know either.
If it's this kind of greed, isn't it okay to be a little greedy?
...
My body was tired, but my mood was more refreshed than usual.
We won the match and everything was good.
Until Jiu came, that is.
"Hey, oppa."
"..."
"Guess what I did at school today, oppa."
"...Stop it."
"What? Oppa?"
"I was wrong, so please stop..."
"I'm asking what to stop. Oppa."
I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a sigh because of Jiu, who's grinning cheekily.
I'm starting to think that cracking that joke was one of the worst mistakes of my life.
Jiu had been tacking "oppa" onto the end of every sentence all evening.
Every time I heard it, my whole body cringed, so even though I begged her several times to stop since I was wrong, Jiu didn't listen.
Instead, she found it more fun the more miserable I was and tormented me.
...That's right.
When you act miserable in times like this, it's just more fun for the person teasing.
Instead, I need to be shameless.
Shamelessly...
"..."
"What? Why, oppa?"
...No. I can't do it.
If she says "oppa" one more time, what would have lasted half a year could become a lifetime.
Then... I switch to an eye-for-an-eye strategy.
"Stop it, noona."
"Huh?"
"I'm not your oppa. Get a hold of yourself. Noona, noona, noona."
See how you like it.
Hearing "oppa" from a friend—how cringey it must be...
"Hehehe."
...Huh?
Jiu grins broadly.
It seems my attack didn't work at all.
No, she seems to like it even more.
...This is a fight I can't win no matter what.
"Hoo..."
"Okay, okay. I'll stop. I feel weird saying oppa, oppa all the time too."
"...Good thinking."
"You thought I'd say that, right? Wasn't it because you wanted to hear 'oppa'? That's why I'm doing it for you. What's the problem."
"..."
Stop... stop...
As I was about to tear my hair out, Jiu burst into laughter.
"Okay. I really won't do it. I'll let you off just this once."
"...Thanks."
"If you act up even once more from now on, I'll call you oppa for the rest of your life."
Since I'm already regretting it a lot, that won't happen. I vow never to say the word "oppa" in front of Jiu until I die.
Hmm.
But something about what she just said feels strange.
For life...?
"Jian."
While I was lost in useless thoughts, Dad came out of the room and called me.
I looked at him, and he gestured for me to come.
It seemed he wanted me in the room for a moment.
Wondering what it was about, I followed him in, and his expression looked somehow serious.
"Can you sit down for a moment?"
"Yes."
What was he going to say to set the mood like this?
I tensed up unconsciously, and Dad spoke.
"Well... yes. My son."
"...Yes?"
"Dad has something to tell you. I wanted to tell you later, but I can't put it off any longer."
Seeing Dad speak so cautiously, I gulped.
What could it be that he's being so careful?
In an instant, all sorts of thoughts crossed my mind.
I thought of every imaginable thing.
I even thought that Dad might have gotten a girlfriend, and if that were the case, I'd be relieved.
Feeling impatient, I looked at him, and since he couldn't easily open his mouth, I asked first.
"Please speak freely."
"Uh... yeah. Well, it's nothing major. Yes. It's nothing. Not something to beat around the bush about. Yeah..."
After beating around the bush a lot more despite saying it wasn't something to beat around the bush about, Dad finally continued after letting out a big sigh, as if making a huge decision.
"I received word that they want to call you up to the national team."
"...The national team?"
"Yes."
His words briefly blanked my mind.
Because this wasn't among the myriad of thoughts that had crossed my mind.
The national team.
But I soon nodded.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"I see. That's amazing..."
"...Huh?"
It was a bit surprising, but compared to all the wild thoughts I'd had, it was nothing.
But Dad looks at me as if I'm strange.
"Will you be okay?"
"...What do you mean?"
"Uh... no, I mean. If it's burdensome or uncomfortable at all, you can tell me. It's not like you have to do anything today."
Dad was still speaking cautiously, and I could understand what he meant.
The national team.
A position that sounds burdensome just to hear. And it actually is.
Dad must be worried about that.
But I'm different from before.
If it's a new experience, I'm ready to do it gladly.
And I didn't want to make Dad worry either.
So I spoke deliberately playfully.
"It's okay. Wow, then your son could become a national team player. You must be proud."
"Uh... yes."
Dad looked at me and chuckled, and I chuckled too.
Dad said.
"But you know."
"Yes?"
"There are those who said they want to pick you."
"Yes."
"It's not just Korea."
Hmm? What does he mean?
As I tilted my head, Dad continued.
"It seems Italy wants you too."
"...Huh?"
Huh.
Wait a minute.
...This is a bit bewildering.
< A New Experience -1 > End