The Japan Match (1)
After finishing our last match against Everton, we returned home in secret.
It was a kind of consideration from the production team, looking out for the squad. We had played only a few days earlier, so the physical fatigue was considerable, and with matches coming every week, it had piled up and piled up. Some of us rotated during games, but plenty of others never got that luxury.
For the week that followed, they rested comfortably at home. Regular filming was essentially over, but the show itself was still airing. I watched the Manchester City match where I scored a brace, and the Everton match I had never seen live, with my family on the broadcast. Time passed, and before long the promised date arrived.
We gathered at the broadcasting station once more.
"Japan's record is six matches: one win, one draw, four losses. The exact opposite of ours."
They had faced teams from France's Ligue 1, Italy's Serie A, and Germany's Bundesliga, and contrary to their arrogance, they had posted dismal results. The only match they actually won was against a relatively weak side—Leverkusen's youth team, Leverkusen Jugend.
"That doesn't mean we can take them lightly. Their draw was against AC Milan, after all."
What kind of club was AC Milan? A genuine Serie A powerhouse, one of the most historic teams in the world. The list of players who had passed through there included Ronaldo, Pirlo, Paolo Maldini, David Beckham, and Ronaldinho. Their U-19 side, Primavera, was famous for being just as strong, and the story of how the Japanese team managed a draw against them went like this: judging that scoring against a defensively rock-solid AC Milan was impossible, all eleven of them simply locked down the goal and ground out a stalemate.
In any case, after reviewing the information and tactics on the Japanese team, we went home, and before long we were on our way to Japan.
The match would be held at the Japan National Stadium in Tokyo—the heart of the country—the same venue that had hosted the 2020 Tokyo Olympics in 2021. Why play right in the middle of enemy territory? Simple. We had put in strong performances throughout the filming; the Japanese team had fallen short of expectations. To balance the two sides, we had come to the stadium the Japanese team wanted: the Japan National Stadium in Tokyo.
The key point was that the program was popular in Japan as well, if not quite as much as in Korea. Because the match was being held on Japanese soil, plenty of Japanese fans supporting their own team were expected to fill the stands.
And that prediction was spot on.
Oh VAMOS! NIPPON~ NIPPON NIPPON VAMOS! NIPPON!
You could hear their chants even from the away team's locker room.
"…Don't lose heart."
The coach broke the silence that had settled over the locker room and continued.
"Yeah. This is Tokyo. There are people who came to support us, but when we step onto the pitch, about ninety percent of them will be wearing blue. So are you going to give up?"
"We've already crushed them one by one in the heart of enemy territory. Johan Cruyff Arena, Mestalla, London, and the Etihad. Who's stronger—those sides, or the Japanese kids?"
"Obviously the former…"
"Then we have to win! We end the filming with a victory. Got it?!"
"Yes!"
…This was the first time I had seen the coach this fired up since filming began. It was fair to say everything hinged on this final match. An OTT service and the broadcasting station had partnered so our show could be watched overseas. Word had spread, and clubs had sent scouts in droves for this match; some had even come just to see the coach who had led a Korean team to beat European big-club youth sides multiple times.
Where was he originally headed… I think he was going to take a national team job somewhere in Africa.
I couldn't remember exactly. Either way, it was a good opportunity for me too—plenty of offers were already coming in. I could push their terms even higher.
I looked over the starting lineup written on the whiteboard.
FW: Seong Ian, Kang Seungwook, Jeong Woojun
MF: Lee Jeongmin, Kang Minsang, Lee Wonjun
DF: Seo Jinyoung, Joo Wonwoo, Lee Seungmin, Baek Namgi
GK: Han Seungwoo
It was the same starting eleven we had used in our first match against Ajax. The only difference was that this time we had experience under our belts and our teamwork had climbed. That alone was enough to make me confident.
Today we were going to sink the Japanese team without mercy.
"Seriously… For our first date, this is all we get?"
"Sorry, sorry. But it'll be super fun! You'll like it too, Saki!"
"Still…"
Miyamoto Saki, who had recently started dating her longtime childhood friend, had been dragged by her boyfriend Ryota to the Japan National Stadium. She knew perfectly well that a soccer match from a TV program was being held here today. She just didn't want to come, for two reasons.
First, this was her first date. Like her friends, she had imagined something romantic—watching a movie, taking sticker photos, grabbing a meal, and maybe a kiss when they parted. Reality was this: jostling among a crowd of people to watch soccer. It was a long way from her idea of romance.
And second… her older brother, Miyamoto Ryuji, was playing right fullback for the Japanese team. If he noticed she was here right now—and with her childhood friend Ryota, no less—if her romance, which she was keeping secret from the family, got exposed for such a ridiculous reason, she would never live down the mortification.
Please don't let him see me from over there…
She let Ryota lead her by the hand to their seats. Holding hands with her boyfriend was nice in itself. But the seats were close to the pitch—and on the right side of the Japanese half, no less—which left her no choice but to feel flustered. At this rate she was bound to run into her brother at right fullback.
"Saki, are you okay? Does something hurt?"
Ryota patted the shoulder of Saki, who had dropped heavily into her seat, and asked.
"No… I'm fine."
She thought to herself, As long as you're happy, I guess.
But she would soon take that thought back. As the players slowly came out and took their positions, she sat perfectly still, staring at the pitch like a dead mouse. The clueless Ryota stood up from his seat and started cheering for the Japanese team—even though her brother Ryuji was right in front of him.
"Kyaa—! Ryuji-kun~"
Her brother waved to the fans calling his name. Fortunately he didn't seem to have spotted her, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"…But Ryota. Who is that guy?"
"Who? Ah… Ian, I think? He's the Korean team's ace."
Saki watched the show every weekend when her brother appeared, but that was limited to the Japanese team's matches, so she knew nothing about the Korean side. She only asked because his face kept showing up on the big screen. Absolutely not because he was handsome.
Beep—!
The referee's whistle started the first half, and at the same moment the Japanese fans' roar filled the stadium.
"Japan! Fighting!!"
Watching Ryota cheer like an excited little kid, she was reminded that he hadn't changed at all—when
Slash—!
Lee Wonjun cut out the ball in midfield and passed it to the attacking midfielder, Kang Minsang. A Japanese player went down from the sliding tackle, but the referee kept the whistle silent. Play continued. Japanese fans booed the referee, or the Korean player on the ball.
Kang Minsang, moving more stiffly than usual, checked the three forwards ahead of him and the midfielder Lee Jeongmin beside him. He played it to Lee Jeongmin, who sent a cross-field pass out to Woojun on the opposite flank.
Tak—.
Jeong Woojun had been looking to make a run, but the moment the pass came he dropped back to receive it. The touch was a little rough, but the Japanese left fullback had simply chased the penetrating movement without ever checking where he actually was—and that was the mistake. Running forward again would be hard, yet Jeong Woojun charged ahead anyway.
Kang Seungwook was already inside the box, and a pass to Seong Ian was a stretch. Handing it off to the midfielders arriving from behind would only give the Japanese defense time to set. Better to beat his man on the wing and put a cross in right away—he lofted the ball with his right foot at once.
It sailed into the box. Kang Seungwook, taller than the opposing center backs, rose high for a header and missed. The ball ran free toward the far side—and there
Bang—!
was Seong Ian.
He had been lingering in the half-space between the right fullback and the center back. As the ball came across like a corner, he took a single step back and timed a left-footed strike perfectly.
Whoosh—!
The Japanese goalkeeper, set only for an aerial ball, had no time to react to the volley from the right side. Miyamoto Ryuji could only stand there blankly and watch a wonder goal go in right in front of him.
In an instant the Japan National Stadium fell silent.
Seong Ian scored, glanced up at the stands, and simply turned back toward his own half. From the Japanese side it looked like he was walking off without any celebration at all—but the Korean fans knew better.
Once again, the community was on fire because of Seong Ian.