National High School Football Tournament Semifinals (2)
When the coach saw us concede so early, he made the bold call to throw me on right away.
A substitution that early never looked good to the people who'd come to watch, but there was no other choice. The Baekhwa High players were still reeling from the early goal, but my arrival eased the mood a little. A monstrous record of six goals and one assist across two matches had given my teammates something solid to lean on.
The game restarted with Baekhwa High's kickoff, and I received the ball from Seo Junhyeok. Junhyeok burst forward through the middle while Jimin and Inho surged up the flanks. Before the opposing midfielder could close me down, I slipped a light pass out toward Jeong Inho.
I drifted slightly to Inho's right — just left of center from the middle of the pitch. Faced once more with Namseo High's right fullback, Jeong Inho didn't force the issue. He simply laid the ball back to me nearby.
"Hey!"
Jimin was already making his run down the far side — the same pattern Baekhwa had been running before I came on. I lofted a ball straight into his path, dropping it perfectly into the space behind Namseo's defensive line. Jimin collected it cleanly.
"Nice!"
Jeong Jimin nudged the ball forward and drove toward the penalty box. Only two defenders — the left fullback and a center back — were tracking him, and neither could catch up. Instead of shooting himself, he cut the ball back to Seo Junhyeok, who was locked in a physical battle with the other center back.
Even with his balance compromised, Junhyeok wound up to strike —
"Hyung! Behind you!"
I was already charging in as I called out. Junhyeok spotted me and back-heeled the ball into my path. Without breaking stride, I curled it.
Bang—!
The ball bent on a beautiful arc and sucked itself into the far corner of the right post. I tried to sprint toward the stands where the reporters were sitting for a celebration, but my teammates swarmed me before I could get there.
Next goal, I'm definitely doing one.
Still a little disappointed, I waved toward the cameras in the stands and jogged back across the halfway line.
Possession went back to Namseo High, and the referee's whistle started play again.
Thud—.
Namseo's striker laid the ball off to holding midfielder Kim Dongyeop, who then found Choi Dongwook — a player who would one day wear the Taegeuk mark alongside me. Namseo's attackers fanned out wide at the same time. Dongwook passed to his partner, Namseo's other defensive midfielder, who then fed Dongyeop again just past the halfway line.
That was the trigger for Namseo's attack. Dongyeop sprayed a long ball out toward the left winger hugging the touchline. The quality of the pass was good enough that the winger collected it easily — only for Baekhwa's right fullback, Kim Seongsu, to close him down immediately.
The winger tapped the ball back and forth in front of Seongsu, probing, then beat him clean with a single simple feint.
"Go!"
Namseo's winger scanned the box. Their striker was already squeezing between Baekhwa center backs Seo Taeseong and Jang Jeongsu — but that alone wasn't enough. Instead of crossing straight to the striker, the winger cut back the other way. Kim Seongsu, barely keeping pace, was caught flat-footed by the sudden change of direction and lost him again.
Tap—.
Rather than whip in a cross, he slipped a pass to Kim Dongyeop, who had pushed high. Baekhwa's center backs were still tracking the striker and late getting back. Dongyeop hit it first time.
Clang—!
The ball smashed off the post, spun, and dropped slowly back into the box.
"I've got it!"
Baekhwa goalkeeper Ju Ingyu came off his line and claimed the falling ball.
"Counter! Now!"
Ingyu bellowed and launched a long throw toward Jeong Inho, who was already sprinting. The pass was a touch short, but Inho chested it down and sent a long ball ahead to attacking midfielder Yu Gwanhee.
"Hyung!"
I'd been hugging the touchline the whole time. Now I tore straight up the line. Namseo's players were still late getting back — only their two center backs remained in their half. We had Jeong Inho and me on the left, and Jeong Jimin bursting in from the right. Which side got the ball was entirely up to Yu Gwanhee.
Namseo's center backs spread their gap. The right one planted himself in the awkward space between me and Inho, applying pressure, while the left one drifted toward Jimin.
"Hey!"
I didn't demand the ball. Instead I pointed at the channel between the two center backs.
Thud—.
Gwanhee saw it and threaded the pass right into that gap. I ran onto it. The Namseo center back who read the play and tried to recover was screened off by Jeong Inho, who stepped across and held him up.
"Damn it—!!"
"Come out! Come out and cut the angle!"
Delayed by Inho's screen, the center back screamed at his goalkeeper. The keeper rushed out to narrow the angle while the other defender, who'd been marking Jimin, scrambled toward me.
Too late.
I chipped it clean over the keeper's reach.
Swish—.
The net billowed.
I sprinted straight toward the stands where the agents were sitting, both arms stretched wide. Then I dropped into a knee slide across the green grass and finished it with a salute — pure Didier Drogba.
"Whoa… are you actually insane?!"
"Wooooaaah!!"
Even as my teammates piled on top of me and crushed me into the turf, I was thinking one thing.
Nailed the celebration this time. We're good.
After my brace, there was almost nothing worth noting. Namseo High, having just been overturned, clung to their fraying mental state and kept playing. Where they'd dominated possession early, we started taking more of the ball as the half wore on. I created chance after chance, but a mix of teammates' mistakes and inspired saves from Namseo's goalkeeper left the score stuck at 2–1.
"Hey. On the way in earlier, that place looked like a funeral home."
"At this rate, we might actually win the whole thing, right?"
"We better!"
I smiled watching my teammates buzz through the half-time break. It made sense — win this one and Baekhwa High would reach the final for the first time in school history.
"But Ian… you're not nervous at all?"
"No. Not really."
"Yeah…?"
Seo Taeseong asked while I sat catching my breath. From a defender's seat, shutting down Namseo's attack had to feel heavy. Even after the first goal, there had been plenty of near-misses. Each time, the center-back duo's physical defending and our keeper's saves had kept the damage to one.
"Just keep doing what you're doing, hyung. Don't worry about it… even if they score, I'll put one in."
I gave Taeseong's shoulder a couple of light pats as I said it. If that took even a little weight off a defender's mind, the odds of conceding had to drop.
"…Yeah. Thanks."
Taeseong huffed a quiet laugh and thanked me just as the coach walked in.
"Good work out there in the first half, everyone. Let's finish the job in the second and make that final!"
"Yes, sir!"
We took the coach's individual feedback and headed back onto the pitch. The referee's whistle started the second half. Both sides sprinted out hard, and we pressed Namseo's players immediately. It worked — they started recycling the ball at the back.
Then Namseo's defensive midfielder Choi Dongwook beat the pressing Seo Junhyeok and drove into the middle. Their right winger was already running with Jeong Inho on his back. Dongwook carved a lofted through ball that ripped down the touchline. Namseo's attackers burst forward at the same time. The winger who received from Dongwook didn't take a touch to settle — he just knocked it inside.
Jeong Inho tried to stay with him, but that single touch left him for dead. The winger scanned the area and cut the ball back to attacking midfielder Kim Dongyeop, who was charging into the channel between the center back and Inho. Dongyeop hit it first time. The ball took one deflection off the ground and rattled the net.
Kim Dongyeop ran straight to the reporters' section for his celebration, Namseo teammates flooding in around him. The fire Baekhwa's players had carried into the second half — the belief that the final was within reach — drained out of them.
"…Sorry."
"It's fine, hyung. I told you, didn't I?"
Seo Taeseong came over as I crossed back past the halfway line and apologized.
"Told me what?"
"What I said in the locker room."
I tapped my left chest twice.
"I'll put the goals in. Don't worry about it — just focus on defending again."
"R-right…"
Taeseong returned to his position with an uneasy look. I turned toward the far side of the field, watching Kim Dongyeop still laughing and soaking it up with his teammates, and thought to myself:
Keep smiling for now. I'll make you cry blood soon enough.