Must have been in elementary school.
I'd read a story like that in a science book.
A story about how if you put a frog in boiling water, it leaps out in surprise, but if you put it in lukewarm water and heat it slowly, the frog dies without ever sensing the change.
Back when I was young, it was just a cruel story, one that made me pity the frog.
Well, that's still pretty much the case now.
But anyway, what's important is that it's not easy to notice change when it happens gradually.
That's why there are times when you don't pick up on the changes around you, then suddenly realize them in a fleeting moment.
Like realizing one morning, when you open the window and feel the crisp air, that the scorching summer has already passed.
Or realizing you've grown taller than a friend when you reach up to grab something that person can't.
And like right now, when facing an opponent I'd met months ago again.
Realizing that I'd been growing all this time.
Even if that change had happened so imperceptibly, so gradually, that I hadn't felt it at all.
Tat-tat-!
I scrape the ball with the sole of my foot, pulling it toward my body while dodging the opponent's foot.
The opponent presses in without stopping, throwing his body at me,
Sweuk-
I keep rolling the ball while spinning my body half a turn, letting him flow past.
Simply evading the opponent's challenge like that, I shake him off and feed a pass into the wide-open left side.
Fwoooosh-!
I shake off a man in the midfield, then initiate an advanced pass to the side.
This entire sequence flows as naturally as water, surprisingly so even to me.
But the opponent rushing at me was none other than Pellegrini.
The player who'd made me furious in the last match.
It definitely hadn't been easy facing him back then. It wasn't just difficult; I'd had the ball stolen from me several times, and I'd failed to stop his breakthroughs, conceding space.
It wasn't for no reason that I'd tried to console myself by uglily blaming my age.
I'd struggled against Pellegrini, and because of that, we'd been pushed back in the midfield battle and had to play a tough match.
But today was different.
The game was flowing under our control, we were winning the midfield battle time and again, and I was finding my individual matchups against Pellegrini not difficult at all.
I probably wasn't the only one who thought so.
The scoreboard was proof enough.
79:32
FIO 2 : 0 ROM
One goal in the first half, one in the second.
Both goals were ours.
And one of them was mine.
Throughout the match, I could feel it.
That even while I hadn't noticed, time had kept flowing, and quite a lot had changed.
Come to think of it, I really don't listen to the people around me. Or maybe I'm just incredibly doubtful.
A lot of people had told me I'd grown so much.
The manager, the coaches... the seniors too, of course.
Even the neighborhood residents I'd pass by had reminded me I was changing, saying I grew manlier by the day(...) But more than all those words from others, right now, feeling that facing Pellegrini wasn't difficult... I could distinctly feel how much I'd grown.
As expected, they don't say such things for nothing.
Seeing once is better than hearing a hundred times.
That... what do you call it again.
Something about a hundred hearings...
...Sorry, but I'm in the arts and physical education track, so I even take shortened classes.
Still, I should study a bit.
Jiu had said something like that before.
She said she really hated delinquent-like guys with nothing in their heads.
...Hmm.
Why am I suddenly bringing up Jiu here?
It's probably because Jiu was the one who told me I'd grown the most.
"Hey-"
Pwa-aang-!
Receiving a pass from the left with the outside of my left foot, I lift my head to secure the view ahead.
Near the box, it's swarming with defenders.
At the same time, I sense a defender rushing at my back from behind; I trap the ball and pause, focusing my senses on gauging the distance.
And the moment the approaching defender gets within two steps...
Tuk-!
I tap the ball to the left to evade the defender's approach, then trap the ball again and turn my body.
"Hoo, hoo-!"
Then I see Pellegrini breathing heavily.
For some reason, that rough breathing didn't seem to come purely from physical exhaustion.
How to put it.
It was as if every inhale held irritation, and every exhale held frustration.
I know because I'd breathed like that in the last match.
I'd been so frustrated and angry at myself that I'd huffed without realizing it.
Does that mean he's feeling now what I'd felt back then?
If not, then sorry.
Seureuk-
I roll the ball with the sole of my foot, observing only my opponent's gaze. Truthfully, this isn't a position or situation where I can afford to hold the ball so leisurely.
Since we're near the box, holding the ball too long and killing the tempo isn't good play.
But the same play can be good or bad depending on the situation.
There were about 10 minutes left, we had a 2-point cushion, and my teammates and I were all exhausted.
So there was no need to force the attack and raise the tempo here.
Rather, my judgment was that this was the time to kill it, and I wanted to play Pellegrini one-on-one a little more.
Tat-tat-
Even though I must have looked pathetic dribbling in place, Pellegrini only approached cautiously.
Keeping his stance low, maintaining a set distance, not rushing recklessly.
A player with much to learn from.
Of course, I'm in a position where I need to learn from anyone, but especially so from Pellegrini.
The way he actively participates in defense despite having the same attacking role as me.
Or how he plays with a cool head even when his emotions aren't calm.
He has things I don't.
People sometimes say I'm excessively humble.
But my thought is, how can I not be humble when I see things to learn every single match?
Tat-tat-tat-!
Maybe he thought the defenders behind had fully set their positioning.
The Pellegrini who'd been holding back rushes at me.
In the previous match, I had tried to get past him when he rushed like this, only to have the ball stolen by his long legs.
Back then I'd only recently come up from U17, so I wasn't used to long legs.
I'd also struggled with physical battles against bigger, stronger players.
But since then, I'd accumulated experience facing many long-legged players and physical monsters.
Thanks to that, now I know.
How to protect the ball from those long legs, and how to fight a strong body with a weak one.
That is the power of time and the power of experience.
Tat-tat-
I feint by snapping my upper body to the right, then exploit the gap as my opponent's balance slightly crumbles in reaction, knocking the ball left.
Tuk-!
The opponent stretches his leg out long, but anticipating that length, I pushed the ball even farther.
Thanks to that, he can't reach it, and I knock the ball forward again with my left foot.
Tat-tat-!
And a half-beat quicker, I spring forward and make the ball mine.
There was no grand method, really.
The way to fight a stronger opponent is to not even think about physical contact from the start, and the way to evade long legs is simply to push the ball that much farther.
That I didn't know something so simple back then—I really was young.
Tat-tat-tat-!
Of course, I'm still young now.
Because that thought struck me even as I got past Pellegrini.
I lost back then because of my age, see...
Whoosh-!
Swoooooosh-
Thwack-!!
The shot struck into the gap between defenders sends the net bulging.
Anyway, it was clear that I'd grown a lot.
*
"Congratulations! 3-0, it was a perfect victory!"
"Thank you."
Once again, I find myself standing before the camera with a sweat-soaked face.
I'm not the type to be overly conscious of my looks—at least not compared to the seniors who spend tens of minutes on their hair before a match—but still, I'd like to do interviews after washing up and looking presentable.
These people will shove cameras and microphones in my face regardless of my condition, as long as my mouth can move.
"In the first half of the season, it was a 1-1 draw, right? I remember the atmosphere then—you seemed very satisfied to earn a point at Roma's home ground."
"Yes, well..."
"But today you consistently dominated from start to finish. Even though Roma strengthened their defense during the winter transfer window, and Fiorentina had a drain of attacking strength."
The reporter looks at me as if seeking agreement, but I don't feel like nodding, so I just stay still.
A drain of attacking strength?
Rika Romero joined us in the winter.
Romero wouldn't feel great if he saw this interview, so I keep my head still.
...Actually, Romero was watching from over there right now.
As I stayed silent, the reporter continued.
"What changed? The team's internal atmosphere, tactical changes. Or perhaps we could say that you yourself have grown even more."
...Hmm.
If he asks the question and answers it himself, what am I supposed to say?
I rack my brain as hard as I do during a match and come up with a suitable answer.
"Our team is petty."
"Petty?"
"It wasn't easy when we met Roma last time. So this time, everyone wanted to win."
"Hmm..."
"We're all petty, so we'd kept that in our hearts."
"Ah, haha! Is that so?"
...Was that a bit of an odd answer?
The reporter let out an exaggerated laugh, then began reading the question sheet in his hand.
He could've given me at least one.
Then I could've given a predictable answer.
Either way, the reporter quickly scanned his sheet and found his next question.
"This time it might be a somewhat off-pitch question. Recently, as Serie A teams all failed to break through the Champions League Round of 16, more fans are pinning their hopes on Fiorentina instead."
"..."
"Fiorentina's goal is clearly to qualify for the Champions League next season, isn't it?"
I nod slightly, and the reporter continues.
He's really laying it on thick.
"People are curious. Your performance has been so extraordinary, they're wondering what would happen if you faced other European teams in the Champions League."
As I listen, I observe the staff members beyond the camera with their arms crossed.
Judging by their expressions, this overly talkative reporter probably wouldn't be holding a microphone much longer.
...I definitely seem to get sensitive whenever I stand in front of a camera.
"As the season is entering the latter half of the run-in, I want to ask about your mindset for next season. If you do make it to the Champions League, are you confident you can continue your current form?"
At least one thing seems certain.
This person won't be in this spot next interview.
I flicked my wet hair and spoke.
"I have to work hard for that. And I look forward to it just as much as the fans cheering for us. To going out in the Champions League, to the opportunity of going toe-to-toe with strong teams."
For this reporter who might be doing his last one, I continue my answer at length.
"I'm curious too. Whether I can fully show my play against foreign teams too... I'm curious how many players are above me. I've met many players and learned and learned again. So I'm looking forward to it, and I plan to work hard."
When I finished, the reporter nodded repeatedly, and the interview ended.
...
─[Exclusive] Fiorentina's Jian Ri, when asked about his resolve for Champions League qualification... "I wonder how many players could possibly be above me."