People love making rankings.
It is by no means unique to any particular country or culture.
Regardless of time period or geography, assigning order and lining everything up is an instinct inherent to humanity.
This is especially true in sports.
It can't be helped. Sports are fundamentally enjoyed for that very thrill.
From who is the best player of the year, to who is the greatest of all time.
What does that ranking even mean?
People devote their precious time to heatedly arguing over these rankings.
So what if we were to properly set the stage and determine the order once and for all?
Gather every soccer player in the world in one place and classify them by birth year.
And within each line, from front to back, line them all up in a single file—what would happen then?
Naturally, a fierce debate would erupt.
Especially regarding who would stand at the very front, a serious battle might unfold.
Who is the greatest talent among those born in '93?
Who is the best player among those born in '00?
These are not matters that can be easily settled.
Naturally.
There are so many geniuses in the world.
However, for some years, the story might be different. There are years where the front spot is decided more easily than one might think.
The line for those born in '87 would likely be the prime example.
It would be a shame for the other '87 babies, because Lionel Messi stands in this line.
That Messi must come to the front is so absolute that there isn't even a crack for discussion to slip in.
Likewise, the line for those born in '05 was the same.
Here, too, the front spot was all too certain.
It was a line where room for disagreement was hard to find.
Of course, there were many geniuses.
Talents nurtured with utmost care by youth academies of big clubs with world-renowned reputations, like La Masia.
There were also talents who had caught the attention of big clubs by distinguishing themselves, even if they weren't from big-club youth systems.
Over there on the South American continent, there must be swarms of geniuses who will shock the world in the near future.
The world is vast, after all.
Even if you gathered only the most notable talents among sixteen-year-olds, you could fill an entire stadium.
But only one person can stand at the very front.
First-team professional stage, and even in Serie A: 15 matches, 17 goals, 6 assists.
At an age where showing potential alone would be enough, there is a player who has already proven himself, who is far ahead of the pack.
I Jian.
The number one of the '05 class was I Jian.
"We will not spare our full support."
It was only natural that FIGC (the Italian Football Federation) showed greed for such a player.
Such a player had been playing in their own country, and since the young age of 13 at that.
Wouldn't it be strange if they weren't greedy?
This was especially true since Italian soccer was experiencing a crisis.
Of course, they had shown they were still going strong by winning the most recent Euros, but in the World Cup qualifiers—more recent than that—they were struggling terribly, suffering the humiliation of being headed to the playoffs.
There was no real sign of a factor that could reverse this situation. The cause was a lack of new talent.
Italy of the past had star players in every position. Needless to say about defense, there were always fantasistas who adorned their era.
But now? There are none.
In defense, the aging Chiellini and Bonucci were still playing, and whenever they tried to promote newer faces, they usually put in performances worse than the old men.
The attack was even more hopeless.
The land of the fantasista had no fantasista.
When one thinks of Italy, defense might come to mind first, but in truth, in every major tournament where Italy achieved significant results, there was a fantasista who led the team.
But now, there was none.
That was why they couldn't help but covet I Jian.
"We will actively help with nationality acquisition. It will be of great help in continuing your soccer career in Europe in the future."
I Wonhun couldn't readily answer the FIGC official he had met through Coach Vincenzo's introduction.
It wasn't an easy matter, nor was it something he could decide himself.
But it was true that he was tempted.
There were far too many advantages to gaining European nationality.
European soccer is harsher on non-European players than one might think. The Non-EU quota system alone shows that.
Moreover, Korean players had issues related to military service, making it even more so.
Acquiring Italian nationality would solve all these problems.
However, what had truly captured I Wonhun's heart more than anything was FIFA's principle for naturalized players.
FIFA stipulates the following eligibility conditions for naturalized players to compete in national teams.
1) The player was born in that country.
2) One of the player's parents or grandparents was born in that country.
3) The player has resided in that country for five years or more.
Currently, I Jian did not meet any of these. Both parents were Korean, he was born in Korea, and he had only lived in Italy for nearly four years.
Therefore, even if he acquired nationality, being able to play for the national team would be a matter for the future.
That was what drew I Wonhun in.
The fact that he wouldn't be dragged off to the national team for the time being.
Later, perhaps after his son had grown more mentally.
Right now, he didn't want his son shouldering such a heavy burden. He simply wished for his son to play soccer quietly, receiving only the cheers of the city's people.
Such was the heart of a father who didn't want to burden his still-young son.
"There's nothing to decide right away. Either way, we have plenty of time to think."
Italy's request was merely an invitation, and the Korean side's request was not for the senior national team but for the age-group national team.
Neither side carried an obligation to accept immediately.
"So I'm just telling you to keep it in mind."
At I Wonhun's words, I Jian quietly nodded. The boy was unexpectedly calm.
That appearance was admirable at a glance, yet on the other hand, a bit pitiful.
Being wanted here and there was a good thing, but... it was also that much more exhausting.
Seeing his son having to endure such fatigue at this young age couldn't put his heart at ease.
"Jian."
"Yes."
"Honestly, none of that matters. You just need to be happy. You know what I mean?"
No matter what decision was made, as long as his son was happy, it didn't matter.
Nothing else was important.
On the day he learned that his son had been suffering greatly, I Wonhun had made a vow.
That no matter what happened, he would protect his son's happiness.
It was a vow of an irresponsible father who had neglected his son under the excuse of being busy.
I Wonhun spoke with all his heart, and,
"I know."
Perhaps that sincerity had been conveyed, for I Jian smiled and nodded.
...
"Hello, good afternoon!"
On my way back from finishing recovery training.
I sat briefly on a park bench when an uncle passing by greeted me warmly.
"Hello."
I smiled and returned the greeting.
And looked around once more.
It's winter, so the wind is quite chilly, and the overall feeling is more gray than blue.
Maybe that's why.
I feel a bit lonely.
"..."
Yesterday I was just dazed, but today my feelings are a bit complicated.
I lived in Korea for 13 years and in Italy for 3 years.
Going by time spent living there, Korea is 10 years longer.
But... I don't know why.
It feels like the difference was that great.
But it feels almost the same in terms of actual experience.
Well, I lived in Korea for 13 years, but maybe it's because nearly half of that was when I was so young I can't even remember.
Or maybe it's because so many things happened after coming to Italy.
Though it's only a short time of 3, now nearly 4 years...
There were bad things and happy things.
Maybe it feels longer because so many things happened.
Especially, deeply thinking and worrying about "myself" was something I did after coming to Italy.
Definitely.
When I was in Korea, I was very young and just lived being swept along by the flow.
Naturally, I had never thought about "myself."
"..."
Honestly, I just don't know.
Dad said that depending on my choice, I could become a Korean national team player or an Italian national team player.
It was a bit confusing.
Because it was something I'd never thought about before.
To think I could choose my nationality.
Well, being wanted here and there is definitely a good thing, but...
I don't know.
Why do I feel like I'm standing in an ambiguous position, unable to belong here or there?
What... am I?
"..."
A snicker escapes me.
It's probably the most difficult question in the world.
Who am I?
I don't know. I don't even know myself well.
Am I weird?
...I must be weird. If I don't know myself, who on earth would know me?
Can other people answer this question easily? Probably?
"Haa—"
I sigh with a stuffy heart and white breath pours out. As white is painted over the gray, I feel even more lonely.
I've felt lonely many times before, but this feeling was a first.
The feeling of wanting to pour out my story to someone.
I always liked solving things on my own no matter what. I hated asking others for advice or help.
Partly because I didn't want to cause unnecessary trouble, and partly because I hated showing others my worried self.
I didn't want to deliberately show my weaknesses to others.
But today is different.
I feel like I want to lay everything out as it is, refreshingly.
From what happened this morning, to what happened during recovery training, to other truly trivial matters...
Come to think of it, was this how Jiu felt too?
...Hm. No.
Jiu was probably just born talkative.
"Hey!"
I turned my head at the familiar voice from afar. Speak of the devil, and she appears—Jiu was running over with a wave of her hand.
"..."
For a moment, a strange optical illusion unfolds before my eyes.
The scenery that had been entirely gray suddenly began turning blue.
As if a drop of ink had fallen into water, that blueness spread outward from Jiu.
"Have you been waiting long?"
Jiu sat beside me and said with a grin.
I shook my head instead of answering.
Then Jiu tilted her head.
"Why are you so down? Did you get scolded by the coach or something?"
"...No. Why would I get scolded?"
"Then what is it? If something's hard, tell noona everything. I'll listen to it all."
At Jiu's appearance, putting her hands on her hips as if spreading her wings, I snickered and looked around. The scenery that had felt lonely no longer looked lonely.
"Forget it. Let's go."
"But why do you suddenly want to go shopping? Did you get a bonus or something?"
Jiu asked as I got up from the bench.
I was the one who had called Jiu out to go shopping together.
A Puma official whose contact I'd received had called. They said they'd hung my photo in the biggest Puma store in Florence. The photo taken at our house back then.
So, I was on my way to do something I'd wanted to try.
"Let's go. I'll buy you something delicious."
"Heeh. Dad told me never to follow someone who says they'll buy me something delicious. He said they all have ulterior motives, so don't be fooled."
Jiu was already tagging along while spouting such nonsense, making a hollow laugh burst out of me.
"What are you trying to do by seducing me with delicious food? Hm?"
I ignored Jiu, who was speaking while squinting her eyes and poking my shoulder, and walked on.
She wasn't wrong about the ulterior motive, so I had no ground to refute her.
"But it can't be helped. People who buy delicious food are good people. Sorry, Dad."
Jiu's continuous nonsense eventually drew a sigh from me, but thanks to her, the worries that had been complicating my mind were disappearing.
When I have a worry.
Or when I want to brag about something.
Is this why Jiu's face is always the first to come to mind?
"I too..."
"Hm? You too what?"
"...Nothing."
Hm. I too am sorry to Dad.
It seems neither Jiu nor I have become adults yet.