A Hat-Trick in Stoppage Time
After Seong Ian found the net, the match settled into a tense stalemate at even score.
As if declaring they would concede nothing more, Changrim High burned through all three of their remaining substitutions, swapping out their double pivot and right fullback. Baekhwa High, riding the crest of two goals scored in rapid succession, answered in kind — deploying their last two substitutes of their own.
Left fullback Jeong Inho and the number 30, who had been operating as an attacking midfielder, came off. Two forwards took their places. One was the number 15, backup to the starting number 9 striker already on the pitch; the other was the number 13, a wing forward.
Baekhwa's back line, which had been oscillating between a four-man and three-man shape all match, locked fully into a three-back system — and the attack, if anything, flowed more freely for it.
A midfielder cut out a Changrim forward's progressive run, then laid the ball off to Jimin, who had drifted into an easy passing lane. Jimin dribbled a few strides before switching it left to the number 15. Fifteen to thirteen. Thirteen to nine. The chain of short combinations kept rolling until the distance looked right — and someone struck.
Clang!
The ball kissed the post and caromed away, falling to Changrim possession.
"Get back on defense — now!"
The third-year center back who had taken the captain's armband from Lee Gwanghyeon bellowed across the pitch.
Changrim's center back launched a long ball toward a teammate surging forward. Baekhwa's defenders closed in — but Changrim's number 7, Kim Jinsu, drove through at full tilt and shredded the line in an instant. Operating from the right, he carried the ball all the way into the box while Baekhwa's defenders scrambled desperately in his wake.
"Come out and cut him off!"
In a one-on-one, Baekhwa's goalkeeper sharpened every sense and edged carefully off his line. Kim Jinsu tried to slide the ball between the keeper's legs —
Thud!
The keeper snapped his knees shut. The ball ricocheted off him and spun out over the end line.
"Hold the defensive line! Why are you pushing up?!"
Having nearly watched the hard-won equilibrium shatter, Baekhwa's players felt the atmosphere dip as they clustered in front of goal. Changrim was no different — every outfield player poured into the penalty box.
Changrim's designated corner-kick taker, number 7 Kim Jinsu, collected the ball and headed for the flag.
"A set piece at this hour…"
Han Yejin muttered to herself. The clock already read the eighty-ninth minute — one minute of regulation left, at most.
Kim Jinsu set the ball down at the corner. The assistant referee raised the board: the number three. Three minutes of stoppage time. One chance, maybe two at most.
"Hey! Mark the nine! The nine!"
The goalkeeper waved his arms, barking at his teammates to lock down their assignments.
Breathing hard, Kim Jinsu raised a hand high, took a measured run-up, and struck the corner. The ball curved in. Every player leapt, praying it would find his forehead.
And it did — a Changrim head met it cleanly. The moment the ball touched his brow, the player twisted toward goal. But it was straight at the keeper.
Thwack!
"Go! Get out of here — run!"
The goalkeeper gathered it easily and roared. In the same motion he launched a long clearance that sailed all the way to midfield in a single kick.
"It's fine! Junseo's already out!"
Changrim's players tracked back, but none of them sprinted. Yang Junseo, Changrim's goalkeeper, had already abandoned his net and was racing toward midfield where the ball was about to drop.
Except —
Tap.
"Huh?"
The first touch belonged to none other than Jeong Jimin.
"Pass!"
The voice cut clean through the surrounding noise and landed squarely in Jeong Jimin's ear. On the far side, Seong Ian was tearing toward the empty goal at full speed, eyes locked on him.
Jimin sent a long through ball. Ian sprinted onto it at full tilt — and then simply tapped.
A light touch. The ball rolled into the net.
47' Second Half — Goal: Seong Ian
Seong Ian sprinted straight toward the stands where Yejin was sitting, both arms stretched wide — and dropped to his knees in a sliding celebration across the grass.
Shhhhk—!!
"Did you see that, Team Leader?! He ran all the way from the penalty box and scored! A hat-trick as a substitute… that's insane…"
Kim Jeonghwan clutched his head with both hands, eyes blown wide.
"I saw. He's something else."
"Right? Looks like the featured match of the Round of 16 is going to be this one…"
Yejin smirked at Jeonghwan's running commentary and turned her gaze back to Seong Ian, still deep in his celebration.
A match Baekhwa High had been trailing as late as the early second half ended in a thrilling comeback victory.
And the MVP of that match was, of course —
Seong Ian
3 Goals
— Seong Ian.
It had been so long since I'd tasted a goal that I half lost my mind celebrating.
Before the regression… it had been more than three years since I'd retired from the K League. Fair enough, I supposed.
When the match ended, we piled into the locker room and celebrated the win.
"Seong Ian's form today was insane…"
"Hey. Forget that bastard Lee Gwanghyeon — you should be starting. A hat-trick off the bench? What, you'd bag six if you started?"
"Come on… Gwanghyeon hyung set everything up. Even with my hat-trick, we'd only have been level without him."
"Oho… so you still know how to show a senior some respect, huh~?"
He wasn't wrong.
Korean football culture is far stricter about senior-junior hierarchy than most other countries. Back in 2002, when Guus Hiddink took the helm of the national team, he'd watched players use formal speech even on the pitch and force passes to nearby seniors simply because of rank. After a great deal of work that vertical culture had cracked, and the team had reached the semifinals — but remnants of it still lingered.
We had it relatively easy. At other high schools around this time, seniors' hazing had driven juniors to make some truly ugly choices.
Either way, the locker room of a team that had just booked its quarterfinal ticket with a comeback win was riding high.
"Everyone sit down first."
At least, until the coach walked in.
"What exactly do you think you did so well… Hey. Conceding three goals in the first half alone — is that acceptable? Huh?"
The buoyant atmosphere from moments earlier vanished with a single sentence from the coach. The two center backs who'd handled defensive duties that day sat ramrod straight and absorbed the dressing-down in silence.
"From the next match on, get your heads on straight. You all know your results in this tournament matter most for university admissions, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"And Seong Ian."
I lifted my head at the sound of my name.
"Yes, Coach."
"You did well today. I kept telling you to stop playing like a one-man show, and it looks like you finally fixed it. Keep it up next match. Gwanghyeon — good work today too."
"Thank you, Coach."
I gave a light nod. Gwanghyeon hyung bowed his head silently, then spoke.
"Alright. You know who we're facing next? Pohang North High. You've got some time before the match, so manage your bodies carefully. Anyone who stays up late gaming and shows up out of condition is off the squad. Clear?"
"Yes, sir!"
The moment the coach left, the entire locker room exhaled as one.
"I can't take this anymore… seriously…"
"Does he think he's Ferguson or something? Hairdryer treatment every damn time…"
The seniors grumbled as they finished changing and packed their bags.
"Ah. Ian — you taking the bus today?"
"Ah…"
Right. I'd been so locked into the match that I'd completely forgotten I'd come back to the past.
I dug my phone out of my bag.
Ding—.
A text arrived at the same moment.
I smirked and typed my reply.
"My family's picking me up… See you at school next week."
"Yeah? Then we're heading out first~."
I watched the seniors wave and file out, then grabbed my own bag and hurried from the locker room.
"Son~!"
A woman in a beige turtleneck, a pure white coat, and blue jeans was waving from a distance. The cascading blonde hair and the proportions made it obvious at a glance — she looked nothing like an East Asian. She was unmistakably Western.
And that beauty was none other than —
"Mom."
— my mother.
"Si~ My boy was so incredible today again~."
She pulled me into a tight hug the way she always did and stroked my hair, and something in my chest tightened without warning.
Thinking back — even before the regression, she had always ruffled my hair like this after every match. Even when my refusal to work had steadily drained my ability. Even when I'd made the Korean national team only to suffer a permanent injury from a brutal tackle in my first appearance. Even when people called me the worst player in the league, the worst player at the club — she had always been there to comfort me.
"Qué pasa? My son… are you hurt somewhere?"
"No… I'm fine."
I quickly wiped my reddening eyes on my sleeve and looked up at her. Those blue eyes of hers were filled with the same worry they'd always held, before the regression and after.
It's okay. I can change it.
I'd come back to the past.
This time, I would seize the chance. I would honor my parents and make sure we lived happily — no matter what it took.
Even if it cost me my life.