A Little Trick Up His Sleeve
As soon as Manager Baek Seungnam and the coaching staff disappeared into the building, the players on the vests team began shuffling toward it one by one.
Disappointment over the manager's evaluation still lingered on their faces.
"I mean, if we just go at them raw, of course we get rolled. Isn't that obvious?"
"Classic old-school motivation tactics, huh."
A few players grumbled and muttered their complaints, and several others nodded along in agreement. These were players who had made it this far being hailed as the top prospects of their generation, and the manager's words had evidently left a scratch on their pride.
On the other hand, some players seemed to burn even brighter at the manager's words, their eyes hardening with renewed determination. Their expressions suggested they intended to turn the manager's assessment into fuel to make themselves stronger.
I guess it all comes down to mindset.
Hanbin watched the range of reactions unfold and thought to himself.
Just then, someone gave his shoulder a light tap. He turned around to find the winger who had set up his assist earlier in the blue-and-white match.
The player flashed an awkward smile and spoke up.
"Um... Hanbin? That corner kick goal earlier was really something. Thanks to you, I got an assist too. Thank you."
The winger bowed his head deeply in gratitude, and Hanbin answered with an easy laugh.
"No, I should be thanking you. It was a great assist. It's the only reason I got to score."
"Come on. Honestly, who else was going to head that in? I just crossed it and trusted you'd be there, that's all. Haha. Besides, with that goal in the books, the coaching staff noticed me for at least a second longer, right?"
"Haha... Well, thanks again for the assist. And you're my senior — please just speak comfortably with me from now on."
The moment Hanbin suggested dropping the honorifics, the winger's face lit up.
"Really? You sure? Then I'll drop it. I'm Lim Kyuhyun. Winger — I play both flanks."
"Nice to meet you, Kyuhyun-hyung. I'm Kim Hanbin. Looking forward to working with you."
"Oh come on, like I don't know you. Is there anyone in Korean football who doesn't these days? A complete rookie tearing it up from his very professional debut — and now getting called straight into the Olympic squad. Just from what the manager said earlier, I'd say you're basically locked into the final roster. Hell, I wouldn't leave you off either. Mm-hm."
Lim Kyuhyun talked him up generously, and Hanbin could only chuckle.
"Ahaha... Thank you."
Kim Hanbin and Lim Kyuhyun kept chatting as they made their way to the players' cafeteria. It was already bustling with the other players, everyone eating while trading talk about the blue-and-white match they'd just played.
Hanbin and Kyuhyun grabbed their food from the serving line, found a decent spot, and sat down to lunch together.
Once the short lunch break was over, the players gathered on the training pitch again. Perhaps because of the morning's blue-and-white match, the afternoon session consisted of relatively light set-piece drills, with the players' stamina in mind.
Following the tactical coach's instructions, the players split into an attack team and a defense team and began training. Fortunately, this time they weren't divided as starkly as starters versus reserves the way they had been in the morning match — instead, the players were distributed evenly so that both sides were reasonably balanced.
There was one peculiar detail, though: the center-back line facing Hanbin's attack team was made up of the key defenders from the morning's starting side. The coaching staff, it seemed, wanted to test Kim Hanbin's attacking ability a little more rigorously.
The corner kick set-piece drill began. The attack team's kickers took turns delivering corners while the defense practiced repelling them with a mix of zonal marking and man-to-man coverage.
Throughout the entire drill, the tactical coach kept a close eye on Kim Hanbin's movement. The ability to leap and attack the ball while shrugging off two defenders hanging man-to-man marks on him — and just now, even when a defender had committed fully to leaning into him, he'd shaken them off in an instant and jumped again. It was deeply impressive.
Hm... Hanbin's heading really is polished beyond his years. Now imagine when Cha Kangmin joins as a wildcard and starts contesting those headers alongside him... For opposing defenses, that would be pure terror.
The tactical coach tried to work out how he would handle Kim Hanbin if he were on the opposing team, gave up almost immediately, and shook his head.
Even though there was no other player on the pitch who warranted such an intense man-marking effort, the starter-grade defenders were still struggling mightily to deny Hanbin the aerial battle. The only times Hanbin failed to score were when the corner itself was poorly delivered and difficult to head, or when the goalkeeper punched clear faster than expected. In every other case, the ball met Hanbin's head without fail and ended up as a shot on target or a goal.
To the tactical coach in charge of set pieces, Kim Hanbin was quite literally a treasure fallen from the sky.
Then, seizing a brief pause in training, Hanbin raised his hand, approached the tactical coach, and spoke carefully.
"Um... Coach?"
"Oh, Hanbin. What is it? Something you need?"
The tactical coach's voice was noticeably softer than usual.
"No, Coach. It's just... would it be all right if I suggested a play?"
"A play? Hmm... sure, let's hear it."
The tactical coach looked at Hanbin with an expression of open curiosity.
"Well... I have a bit of a trick up my sleeve... Would it be okay to try it out right now?"
"A trick?"
The tactical coach tilted his head. But in his eyes at the moment, anything Hanbin did looked adorable. The mere fact that the team had a player with such overwhelming aerial dominance was enough to make a tactician's job feel secure, so he nodded readily without much deliberation.
"Sure. Anything you want to try? A formation, a trap strategy?"
"It's just... would it be all right if I took a turn as the corner kick taker?"
At this unexpected proposal, the tactical coach's face flickered with momentary bewilderment.
"The taker? You? Hmm..."
Wait, you're setting aside the heading you're so good at to suddenly take corner kicks? Granted, the kicking you've shown in recent matches has been solid, but you've got a proven weapon in your heading — why on earth would you...
The tactical coach wrestled with it for a moment internally, then changed his mind.
It's just practice, not a real match. Let the kid try it. Why not.
"All right, go ahead. Okay, everyone! Back into the corner kick formation!"
At the tactical coach's instruction, the players scattered back to their positions and began setting up the corner defense. Kim Hanbin picked up the ball and walked toward the corner flag.
The players wore puzzled expressions at the sight of Hanbin suddenly stepping up as the corner taker, but for now they followed the coach's orders, checking their marks and focusing on defense. In particular, the starter-grade defenders who had been marking Hanbin just moments ago exchanged glances that seemed to say, Hanbin's taking the corner himself? Then who's going to head it?
The tactical coach stood at the corner area, watching Hanbin handle the ball this way and that.
Well... everyone already knows the kid's kicking is excellent. No harm in letting him try something he wants to do.
Murmuring to himself, the tactical coach watched with anticipation to see what kind of play Kim Hanbin would show.
Hanbin set the ball down beside the corner flag, steadied his breathing, and surveyed the area in front of goal. Inside the penalty box, players from both teams were tangled together in fierce physical battles, jostling for position.
Tweet—!
The tactical coach's whistle blew, and after a short run-up, Hanbin struck the ball firmly with his right foot, wrapping around it.
**
Park Hansoo, the goalkeeper, had been in a bit of a mood all afternoon. The culprit was that Kim Hanbin fellow.
His profile clearly listed him at 187cm, but standing next to him, Hanbin somehow looked even taller than Park Hansoo's own 188cm — and on top of that frame was a build that defied belief. Worse still, he packed an explosive leap that had no business belonging to a body that size.
For a goalkeeper facing him at a corner kick, he was the stuff of nightmares. Over and over through the repeated corner drills, Park Hansoo had conceded goals to Kim Hanbin helplessly. Aside from a few lucky punches that carried him through, most balls that met Hanbin's head went straight into the net.
What frustrated him even more was that the opposing players cunningly worked their bodies against him to disrupt his punching, while his own defenders — far from stopping Kim Hanbin — seemed unable to offer even proper interference. Of course, his teammates were doing their best, but in the face of Hanbin's absurd aerial dominance, every defensive effort felt useless.
And every time a goal went in, he could feel the coaching staff's gazes toward Kim Hanbin growing softer and softer — while the goalkeeper coach's gaze toward him only grew colder.
If this keeps up, I'm getting absolutely destroyed once training ends today...!
A chill ran down Park Hansoo's spine.
But right at that moment, Kim Hanbin — the very man who had been serving him hellish headers all session — suddenly picked up the ball, went to the tactical coach, and then walked straight over to the corner flag, announcing he would take the corner kick himself.
Thank goodness! With him out of the box, the biggest heading threats on that team are just average 180cm guys at best. This I can stop. This time, I WILL stop it!
Hanbin stepping out as the taker was nothing but good news for Park Hansoo, and he rejoiced inwardly.
Just as he was steeling himself, the tactical coach's whistle sounded — tweet! — and Hanbin delivered the corner.
FWANG—!
With a sharp cracking sound, the ball left Hanbin's foot and soared into the air. It was clearly struck with heavy curl, because it climbed on a steep arc and came flying toward the goal mouth.
Huh... that's higher than I expected?
Watching the ball's flight, Park Hansoo felt a flicker of confusion. It floated much higher than the corners he was used to seeing. That's too high — did he mess up the kick? And in the very instant that thought crossed his mind —
The ball that had climbed so high suddenly curled viciously toward the goal and began dropping fast.
What the—?! What trajectory is that?!'
Park Hansoo was stunned. The ball had already sailed well past the point where he'd predicted it would land. He flung himself backward, belatedly stretching out his hands, but the ball was already beyond his reach.
Curving in picture-perfect fashion, it was sucked straight into the net.
A corner kick goal — and not just any: a perfect one untouched by a single soul, attacker or defender, goalkeeper included. The sound of the net rippling was followed by a brief, heavy silence across the training pitch.
Then, from all around, low gasps of awe began to break out. "Whoa..." The players could only stare, speechless, at the ball in the net and at Kim Hanbin standing by the corner flag — still processing the unbelievable scene they had just witnessed.
"Hey... that... he meant to do that, right?"
One player whispered to his teammate in disbelief.
"H-has to be, right? Nobody touched that ball just now. A normal cross comes in at heading height, but that one curled in on a trajectory nobody could get near and dropped straight into the goal..."
Another player nodded in agreement. They were all beginning to sense it, dimly at first: that corner kick goal hadn't been a lucky accident. From the very start, it had been a cross-shot — a kick Kim Hanbin had deliberately aimed at the goal itself, planned down to the last detail.
While the players still stood around muttering in a daze, the tactical coach hurried over to Kim Hanbin. His face wore a complicated mix of astonishment and excitement.
Their conversation carried faintly from a distance.
"Hanbin, that... did you aim for that just now?"
Incredulity was still plain in the tactical coach's voice.
"Yes... that's right, Coach. Though honestly, it'll probably only work once or twice. Once the opposing goalkeeper registers it, the success rate will plummet."
Hanbin answered with surprising composure.
Hearing the exchange, goalkeeper Park Hansoo understood immediately exactly what Hanbin meant. He was right. A surprise cross-shot like that was, quite literally, a joker card — something that only worked when the opposing keeper had no idea it was coming. Once burned, the keeper would begin positioning himself for corners with the kicker's direct shooting threat in mind from then on. And the very act of Kim Hanbin — a player armed with the overwhelming weapon of his heading — stepping up as the corner taker made it far easier for opponents to recall that cross-shot was an option at all.
Ha... still, he really meant to hit that? Is this kid just built different...
All Park Hansoo could do was marvel. Kim Hanbin's kicking ability was beyond anything he could have imagined.
With the shocking corner kick goal behind them, training moved straight into free kick set-piece practice. Again the players split into attack and defense teams, each waiting at their positions for the coaching staff's instructions.
The tactical coach stationed the players roughly 35 meters in front of goal and directed their movements through a variety of simulated free kick situations.
Hm... 35 meters. From this range, the best options are playing a long ball for Hanbin to attack with a header, or scrapping for the second ball in a goal-mouth scramble and looking to pounce.
Thinking this through, the tactical coach explained the detailed movements and rehearsed plays to the players. Forwards practiced penetrating into the penalty box, while defenders drilled effective marking and springing the offside trap.
And sure enough, the tactical coach's plan held up. Just like in the corner situations, long crosses went up and Hanbin either met them directly with a header or won the aerial duel and successfully laid the ball off for a second-phase attack.
Now if only this tactic works against those tall kids from overseas...
Just as the free kick set-piece training was grinding on for a while, Kim Hanbin once again sidled up to the tactical coach.
"Um... Coach?"
Hanbin began, carefully.
"Huh? Oh, Hanbin. What is it? Something wrong?"
"No, Coach, nothing's wrong. It's just... I happen to have one more little trick..."
Hanbin brought out the exact same line as before.
"Again?!"