“Hoo… hoo…”
While the ball is out of play for a moment, I put my hands on my hips and gasp for breath.
Ugly wheezing sounds escape from my mouth on their own, and my chest heaves like furious waves.
“Hoo-!”
I exhale deeply and try my hardest to get my breathing under control, but it isn’t easy. My mouth feels sticky, and my shins feel stiff and tight.
I glance at the scoreboard and see the time racing toward the 90-minute mark.
Suddenly, a funny thought crosses my mind—that each number ticking up on the clock represents the amount of stamina I’ve consumed.
The 84th minute is passing, and it feels like I’ve used up exactly that much energy.
So what does that mean.
If we go to extra time, do I die?
I might actually die.
It’s a good thing today’s match is a league match. If it were the Coppa Italia… it would be terrible.
Come to think of it, just how good is the stamina of players who run the full 120 minutes of extra time?
I’m struggling so hard just to finish 90 minutes… Is someone who runs 120 minutes even human?
Probably not.
They’re just monsters.
“Jian!”
“…!”
A voice from the bench snaps me back to my senses. From the sharp jolt I feel, I must have been slowly losing it.
“This!”
I turn my head and see the coach waving some white object.
At that sight, I run over like a puppy dashing to its owner holding a treat.
“Thank yo—”
“Chew and swallow instead of talking!”
My mouth fills with the sweet flavor of banana.
Sorry to Jiu, but nothing could be sweeter than a banana eaten around the 80th minute.
“…Kgk.”
But tasting good and going down your throat smoothly are two different things.
My sticky saliva keeps trying to cling to the banana, so I have to swallow with all my might to push it down.
A cartoonish “Gulp!” sound comes from my throat.
Anyway, the banana is great.
Maybe the banana is a gift from God.
Just the sugar hitting my mouth makes me feel like I’m coming back to my senses.
I guess I was running around out of my mind until now.
86:32
FIO 1 : 1 JUV
The match is still tied 1-1.
The time has passed the 86th minute.
From the perspective of playing, it isn’t at all, but from the perspective of watching, I wonder if it wasn’t a frustrating match.
No goals had come in the second half, and there hadn’t been many real chances, either.
I don’t want to make excuses, but the opponent had made the match that way.
Maybe because the one counterattack they allowed us led straight to a conceded goal.
They were cautious, and then some.
It even felt as though they would be fine with a draw.
Of course, the mighty Juventus—back when I was there, I was drilled with the pride of being Serie A’s best—coming out with that attitude did give me a sense of pride on one hand, but…
…not getting many chances to touch the ball was frustrating and difficult.
Suddenly, it’s strange.
Back in the day, when I was in the middle of a match like this, I used to think that way.
That I wished the ball wouldn’t come to me if possible.
That I wished opportunities wouldn’t come my way.
Back then, the ball was scary.
So I hated it when the ball came to me.
Every time the ball came, how should I put it? It felt like giving a presentation in front of dozens of people.
My heart would pound and I’d get incredibly nervous, so the ball felt like a bomb rather than a ball.
So I was always muttering, “Don’t come, don’t pass to me.”
And every time, the ball would definitely come to me.
Strangely enough.
Anyway, that’s why matches where we spent more time defending were sometimes better for me.
Matches against teams so good that chances to touch the ball hardly came at all.
Those were the most comfortable matches for me.
“Defense! Focus!”
“Not much left! Hold on!”
Today was exactly that kind of match, so if you ask if that’s good…
My answer would be “No.”
It wasn’t the same feeling as before. I didn’t feel comfortable just because the ball wasn’t coming to me, nor did I want this situation to continue for long.
Instead, I thought every single moment:
Please, I want to get that ball.
I just wanted our team to get a chance quickly, and among them, I wished the ball would come to me… I was feeling that way unconsciously.
Of course, it wasn’t some hero complex where I thought everything would be solved if I just got the ball.
To be exact, I just wanted our team to get a chance, and even if that chance came to me, I was merely ready for it.
Our team wins today’s match.
Nothing else was more important than that.
Even if I had to take on an important role on the path to that victory, I was ready to bear that burden.
Pa-aang-!
Pa-aang-!
Time flows as meaninglessly as the opponent’s passing around.
Maintaining focus at times like this is truly difficult. The reason all my teammates have been shouting about focus since the 80th minute is probably because it’s so hard.
I had lost that focus for a moment too, but the banana woke me up.
It was a point in the match where I wouldn’t have been surprised to have been substituted already.
But the fact that the coach handed me a banana means he has no intention of taking me out.
That means there’s still a role for me to play in this match.
To fulfill that role, I held onto the thread of concentration and waited.
And then, when the clock on the scoreboard was approaching 90 minutes.
Whoosh-!
The opponent’s pass heads straight to the back.
It was a bold forward pass that hardly ever came, so it felt ominous.
Were they going for broke with so little time left?
The defender’s long lofted pass drops toward our box.
And standing there is Vlahović.
I shouldn’t say this, but damn it, it’s perfect positioning.
The sight of him standing planted exactly where the ball would drop sends a chill down my spine.
Senior Nastasić struggles with all his might to take that position, but Vlahović grits his teeth and holds his ground, refusing to yield.
Just as he bends his knees to jump with all his strength—
Pa-aang-!
An eagle appears and snatches the prey like lightning.
It was Senior Milenković, springing up a step ahead of Vlahović.
Naturally, jumping with a running start is faster and higher than jumping while jostling on the spot.
That was why Senior Milenković’s running header from behind could cut the ball off.
But that isn’t what’s important right now.
Pa-ang-!
The ball that Senior Milenković won falls to Senior Torreira’s feet.
I make eye contact with the senior who immediately turns toward the front.
I nod with my eyes, and soon the senior’s foot moves.
Paaang-!
The pass comes toward me; I’ve never been so happy to see the ball.
I once sneaked a peek at Jiu’s messenger profile picture and saw a phrase like that.
“Don’t let familiarity trick you into forgetting what’s precious,” was it?
Those words were true.
It was a ball I always played with, yet I never thought there’d be a moment I’d be so glad to see it.
And so, I learn one more thing from Jiu.
Swish-
Pa-ang-!
I carefully trap the strongly driven pass at my feet and turn.
There’s plenty of space, so I can turn immediately without interference.
I dribble the ball straight up.
Tatatat-!
Two opposing defenders.
They look absolutely terrifying at a glance, so I should be startled, but I’m not.
Thanks to my uncles who used to play with me.
If we’re talking about faces, Senior Nastasić and Senior Milenković are scarier.
Tatatat-!
I pour all my strength into accelerating.
Then I see one of the two defenders stop backpedaling and charge at me.
He rushes at me with large, aggressive strides, looking very intent on taking me down.
So I lightly knock the ball away and twist my body to survive.
Tuk-!
The ball I lightly touched passes between the defender’s legs, and I narrowly slip past him, barely avoiding the collision.
A large stride means equally wide space between the legs, so getting the ball through wasn’t hard.
Tatatat-!
I keep running.
Around now, I thank the banana once again.
If it weren’t for that guy, I wouldn’t be able to run like this.
The banana is definitely a gift from God.
Tatatat-!
Perhaps because the first defender was bypassed, the remaining one waits for me with his feet on the box line.
His position and the goalkeeper’s position beyond him are quite exquisite, making it look difficult to take a shot with the defender in front.
Maintaining my speed, I charge straight at the defender.
My experience told me to put aside any flimsy skills and that simply changing direction while maintaining my current speed would be most effective now.
Tat-!
A few steps in front of the defender, I lean my upper body to the right, then bounce off to the left and hit the ball.
Then my vision opens up, and facing me isn’t a defender but the goalkeeper.
The shot… light.
Whoosh-!
Swoooooosh-
Thwack-!!
The moment the net rippled, all strength left my body and I collapsed, and thanks to that, I could feel the fans’ cheers with my body.
Like my phone when I text Jiu…
The ground vibrated like crazy.
*
Solving a difficult problem is more fun than an easy one. Because the sense of accomplishment is greater when you solve it.
Today’s match victory was like that.
2-1.
It was tough, but we won.
“You brat!”
“I love you! You’re the only man I love!”
“In my next life, I wanna be your dad!”
I don’t know why I have to hear such horrible things after winning the match, but I had to let my seniors manhandle my body as they pleased.
I had no strength to resist, and I didn’t really hate it, either.
“You adorable little thing!”
“…Ah!”
W-wait. This is a bit much.
I furrow my brows at the pain in my cheek and whip my head around.
Senior Nastasić’s thick hand was pinching my cheek.
Urgh, why does it hurt so much.
“What are you doing, man! The kid’s hurting.”
“Agh, Nastasić!”
Whether because of my reaction, the atmosphere suddenly chills. Then everyone shoots glares at Senior Nastasić, who scratches his head in bewilderment.
Uh… I, I wasn’t trying to get annoyed, but…
“I-I’m fine. I, I was able to score thanks to you, Senior. Thanks to your help during training.”
Let me help the senior out.
“Getting past the opposing defenders was way easier than getting past you, Senior.”
“Hahahaha! Right? I knew it, right?”
At my words, Senior Nastasić, who had been scratching his head, smiled broadly again.
As he does, the senior reaches his hand toward me again, but this time other seniors stop him and his hand fails to reach my cheek.
“Isolate this bastard!”
“Agh, Nastasić! Get over here!”
Two of them latch on and drag Senior Nastasić away, and thanks to that, I finally become a free man.
Phew… This is exhausting.
Winning the match is all good, but the aftermath is always this hard.
I was shaking my head and trying to move my feet toward the locker room when—
“…”
Someone blocked my path, and when I looked up, Vlahović was standing there.
“…Huh?”
Startled, I let out a stupid sound without thinking, but he makes an inscrutable expression and extends his hand.
“You’ve gotten better.”
“…Ah.”
I grasp his hand.
Then he smirks.
“Could you give me your uniform? If you don’t want to, it can’t be helped.”
“Uniform… ah, yes.”
At his request for my uniform, I laboriously take off my top.
I hope Jiu doesn’t see this.
If a stranger saw this, it would look exactly like I’m getting shaken down…
“Sorry. It’s a bit sweaty…”
“You’re still worrying about pointless things.”
I hand over the sweat-soaked uniform, and Vlahović strips right there and puts on my uniform.
“…”
Strangely, I had to hold back laughter at that sight. Not only was he cramming his body into the wrong size, but the clothes were too tight after he put them on. Certain uncomfortable bulges were straining against the uniform.
But even so, that purple uniform suited him well.
“You don’t need mine?”
“…Ah. Please give it here.”
“Here. You can’t burn this or anything.”
Vlahović places his uniform in my hand, then turns away with a smile.
He said I can’t burn it.
He seemed to not care at all throughout the match, so I guess he’s human after all.
I’d heard that fans once gathered his uniforms in one place and burned them; maybe that had been bothering him.
I watch his retreating figure, but the sight of the uniform squeezing him like it’s about to burst eventually makes me burst into laughter.
“…”
Hmm.
I don’t really know.
Before and during the match, I had strongly wanted to make him regret it, but…
After sharing a handshake, even a brief one, my thoughts change again.
I hope he doesn’t regret it, or anything like that.
Maybe because I realized that only the uniforms had changed, not the people.
Well, regardless, beating Juventus once again was a very happy thing.