Manchester City Match (2)
Throughout the first half, Seong Ian had completely dominated Darwin Diaz, the opposing right fullback.
…That was the polite way of putting it. Stripped bare, it was closer to outright toying with him.
With feints and the full arsenal of his dazzling individual skill, Ian had bamboozled Darwin Diaz and manufactured chance after chance. Even Darwin Diaz — rated as a player no one in the league could match for pure pace — could not keep up with Seong Ian's speed.
The result was a thrashing. From Manchester City's perspective, starting Darwin Diaz had been nothing short of a failure.
And so Kevin De Bruyne — Manchester City legend, currently managing the U-20 side — found himself sunk deep in thought.
The 4-1-2-3 formation was one his mentor Pep Guardiola used often enough. Moreover, the Korean team's tactic — mezzalas surging into the half-spaces opened up by the wide wingers — was something De Bruyne himself had lived through.
In a system like that, the mezzala is supposed to be the one scoring…
At least, that was how it had been for him.
Thinking back to the season they'd run that setup: left winger Phil Foden and right winger Sterling stretched the half-spaces, while striker Gabriel Jesus did what he did best. Then left mezzala Bernardo Silva and right mezzala Kevin De Bruyne would crash into those half-spaces and finish. That had been the blueprint.
Assuming the Korean side would do the same had been a miscalculation.
The opening goal had come from Seong Ian, starting at left wing — and objectively speaking, De Bruyne couldn't say the mezzalas had been particularly sharp. They'd shown strength in passing and occupying space, sure, but they hadn't been the ones arriving to score or provide the final assist.
Staring at the whiteboard set up in the locker room, De Bruyne made his move.
"Diaz. Second half, you're going out as right stopper."
"What?!"
Darwin Diaz was visibly rattled by the instruction.
A stopper supporting the sweeper was essentially a center-back. What that role demanded was pace, rock-solid defending, and physicality. But Darwin Diaz was a fullback — and specifically the kind of fullback who almost never got into physical duels. In the league, no one could catch his speed, and when his defending was shaky, the other center-backs cleaned up the mess for him.
Anyone looking at De Bruyne's decision would have struggled to make sense of it.
Anyone, that is, except Seong Ian.
When the second half kicked off and Kevin De Bruyne stepped back onto the pitch, the positions of the Korean players hit him like a slap to the back of the head.
Seong Ian's position had changed.
He was now the left mezzala.
Manchester City's formation was the same as the first half. The only change was that Darwin Diaz, who'd been at right fullback, had shifted to right stopper, while the original right stopper and Diaz's backup fullback had rotated into the right-back slot.
…I figured they'd go something like this.
That was exactly why I'd asked to come out as mezzala first. For the coach, who'd been forced to replace Kang Minsang after he complained of knee pain right at the end of the first half, it was welcome news. My backup came on in the wing spot I'd vacated, and the tactical switch was complete.
I couldn't remember the exact day Darwin Diaz first played center-back, but I knew this was his first time doing it. Which meant Darwin Diaz the stopper was still an unripe fruit — and I intended to pick it and crush it underfoot before it ever had a chance to ripen.
The whistle blew.
The second half started with Korea in possession.
"Push up and stretch it wider, hyung!"
I gestured instructions to the player who'd taken over left wing in my place, then drifted around, reading the shape of the pitch.
Lee Wonjun, our single volante, was spraying steady passes and keeping the build-up and attacking phases flowing smoothly. Seon Jaewoo, operating as a false nine, dropped deep to link our play.
I took the ball from Lee Wonjun near the halfway line, scanned the space around me, and then drove it long. Only one midfielder stood in front of me — but in that situation, I had options.
Play a one-two with Seon Jaewoo, who was bursting forward right beside me? Or just beat the man with pure individual quality?
I chose the latter.
I gradually bled off speed, watching the opposing midfielder backpedal, and the moment his legs opened wide enough, I slipped the ball straight through them.
At the same instant I exploded around him to the right and threaded a through ball to Seon Jaewoo, who'd already pushed higher.
I struck it cleanly with my left foot — but the keeper's save sent the ball spinning free. Darwin Diaz, the right stopper, claimed it.
"Ugh… nngh…!"
Diaz groaned and fed the ball out to his right fullback. The fullback shrugged off our winger's press with ease and surged forward.
A clean break, sure. But still—
At least look where the opposition is before you go.
I swept across the grass and simply poked the ball away. The fullback caught my leg and went down, then appealed to the referee — who wasn't having any of it. The whole thing had happened right under his nose, and he'd seen me touch the ball first.
I collected it immediately and tore down the flank. It would take Darwin Diaz, the right stopper, time to recover across.
I whipped a curling cross with my left foot. Inside the box, Seon Jaewoo and Jeong Woojun were waiting.
Both players leapt as high as they could, but the ball sailed just over their heads and out of play.
"Too high… sorry!"
"It's fine! Good ball!"
I waved an apology; the others flashed thumbs-up and encouraged me.
…Though the ones who really needed the encouragement were the other team. Conceding a goal while being dragged around in the first half, then getting dominated again in the second — their pride had to be scraping the floor.
…And I'll blow that last bit of it sky-high at the end.
I watched Darwin Diaz with his face planted in the turf, wiping sweat, and allowed myself a quiet grin.
The second half rolled on. A Manchester City throw-in got knocked around among the defenders until it reached the keeper.
"Out!"
The City keeper set the ball and launched a long left-footed clearance, aimed just ahead of their left winger. It looked destined for the sideline, but the winger managed to keep it alive with a desperate touch of the instep. He killed his momentum, secured possession, and drove down the flank.
Standing in his path was Baek Namgi — low stance, center of gravity dropped, eyes locked on the City winger's footwork. He read a few dummy stepovers and a touch, then saw the winger commit to driving the ball out with his left foot.
Baek Namgi's leg was already there, as if he'd known all along.
"Not getting through this time…!"
…He'd better be able to do at least that much. I'd put him through the wringer in training specifically to raise his defensive level. Left winger and right fullback are positions that meet constantly, so he was the perfect sparring partner for me to torment. While Darwin Diaz was getting worked over by me out here, Baek Namgi might well have been flashing back to those sessions.
Anyway—
The City winger recovered the ball quickly and laid it off to the fullback trailing behind him. A chest trap, a forward pass, the winger receiving it again. The moment Baek Namgi stretched for another challenge, the winger flicked the ball with the outside of his right foot, caught Baek completely on the wrong foot, and left him behind.
He then spotted their striker making a run and slipped a through ball into his path.
The shot came off an unstable base, but the power was real. It smashed off the far post and rebounded out.
"Second ball!"
Keeper Han Seungwoo threw himself toward the opposite side of where the ball had come from — then, seeing it carom off the far post, scrambled half-upright and dived back the other way. In the scramble at the mouth of the goal, he somehow got his hands on it.
"Spread the gaps! Hey! Referee!"
Once the keeper had full possession, our defenders dropped back into shape — but the opposing attackers didn't. They stayed ahead of our defensive line, crowding Han Seungwoo as he tried to distribute. When he called for the referee, they finally shook their heads and stepped back over the line.
The ball went out to left fullback Seo Jinyoung, who passed to Lee Wonjun. Lee Wonjun, growing bolder by the match, was improving the quality of his distribution day by day.
For example—
"Hey!"
I threw my hand high and burst into the half-space. Lee Wonjun saw it and launched a long lofted through ball. I took it lightly with my left foot, drove into the box, laid it off to Seon Jaewoo, and immediately shifted right.
Seon Jaewoo shot toward goal from between the stopper and the sweeper. The net didn't ripple. Instead, the rebound fell to Darwin Diaz, the stopper.
"Counter, right—"
I was already there as I passed him, stripping the ball clean and hammering it with my right foot.
The net billowed once more.
And I tore off my jersey, clenched it tight in my right fist, and started spinning it over my head as I sprinted across the pitch — just like the legendary Manchester City celebration of Sergio Agüero.
Near the bench where the broadcast crew and camera team were stationed, the commentators had been calling the counterattack with rising excitement — only to groan when Seon Jaewoo's shot hit the woodwork.
"You really have to put those away… that was so close."
"They already missed a similar chance in the first half, so they need to be careful. And… Darwin Diaz has the ball."
"Yes — watch the counter, everyone…! Wait—?! Seong Ian steals it! Seong Iaaaaaaaaaan!!!!!!!"
When the goal went in, the caster's voice — nearly collapsing under the strain — was captured raw by the cameras.
It was a moment that echoed that famous scene from the 2011–12 Premier League season, Matchday 38 against QPR: Agüero's stoppage-time winner that sealed the title for Manchester City.
Two things were different this time.
First, this wasn't stoppage time — it was still the middle of the second half.
And second, the player scoring the goal and performing that celebration wasn't a Manchester City player.
It was a player from the Korean team.
Seong Ian.