Chapter 84
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: Park Si-hyun's Country Takes a Backseat (2)
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Puyol's interview was far from ending as mere discord between coach and player.
Of all people, Puyol was Barcelona's symbolic star, and the man he publicly criticized—Jose Antonio Camacho—was a legendary defender from Real Madrid turned coach.
The backlash from that combination was beyond imagination.
"Damn... what the hell is going on?"
Luis Medina, president of the Spanish Football Association.
He stared at the mountain of newspapers piled on his desk before finally clutching his head.
The world had already exploded.
Catalan media began treating the incident as a political issue transcending football.
Journalists friendly to Barcelona and pro-Catalan independence outlets cried out in unison.
"This isn't just a football problem."
"Catalan players are becoming scapegoats for central authority."
The Spanish Football Association headquarters was utter chaos.
Phones from the press rang nonstop, fan protests flooded in, and even politicians chimed in on the matter.
It was nothing short of national turmoil.
Luis Medina let out a deep sigh.
'This... all started from a single match?'
Luis Medina let out a deep sigh.
He pressed his fingertips to his temples, but the dizziness wouldn't stop.
"...For now, bring that coach here."
A short, heavy command.
His voice carried something colder than anger.
A football spark had ignited a political powder keg.
The conflict between Catalonia and Spain had become an unavoidable battle.
People outside Spain might say it lightly.
'Catalonia? Isn't it just a region of Spain?'
But that's only possible if you don't know the history of Spain and Catalonia.
Catalonia had existed as an 'other country' within Spain far longer than as part of it.
In 1714, during the War of the Spanish Succession, the archduke backed by Catalonia was defeated, and Barcelona fell.
Up until the day before, they had clearly been their own kingdom—with their own language, laws, and independent identity.
But in just one day, it all crumbled.
The Catalan parliament was dissolved, Catalan was banned, and their laws and culture were replaced wholesale by those of the Spanish central government.
Catalans call that day their National Day of Mourning, still commemorating the lost freedom and autonomy to this day.
When the Industrial Revolution came, Catalonia grew faster than anywhere else in Spain.
Centered on its rich industrial base and the trade port of Barcelona, it had become the economic heart propping up all of Spain.
Thanks to that wealth and influence, in the early 20th century, Catalonia revived its autonomous parliament once more.
Under the Second Republic, they officially gained autonomy.
But that hope didn't last.
When Franco won the civil war and established his dictatorship, Catalonia's autonomy collapsed again.
Catalan was outright banned, and Spanish alone had to be used in schools, newspapers, broadcasts—every public institution.
Even at Camp Nou, Barcelona's symbolic stadium, they couldn't sing cheers in Catalan.
Barcelona, once a symbol of freedom, was branded anti-regime and endured repeated dissolution orders and censorship.
Meanwhile, Franco's regime propped up Real Madrid as the nation's club.
To them, Madrid was the face of the Spanish central government—a symbol of power, order, and control.
From then on, El Clásico matches between Barcelona and Real Madrid ceased to be just football games.
Barcelona symbolized 'resistance and freedom'; Madrid stood for 'power and centralization'.
Of course, by 2002, the air had shifted a bit.
Most Catalans now acknowledged they were part of Spain.
But that admission always came with one caveat.
"But we're the most special part of it."
And atop that pride, another spark was thrown.
A legendary figure from Real Madrid had insulted Barcelona's heart, Puyol.
To already-wounded Barcelona fans after Figo's transfer, the incident wasn't mere insult.
It became fuel reigniting long-suppressed anger and pride, planting the seed of independence right then.
"Bring him quick. Let's see that bastard's face."
At the association president's low, cold order, one executive nodded.
Moments later, the door opened, and Jose Antonio Camacho entered.
There was no remorse or tension on his face.
Instead, a relaxed, brazen smile hung there, as if it had nothing to do with him.
The air in the conference room chilled.
Luis Medina rose slowly from his seat, glaring at him.
"...Do you have any idea what situation you've put the association and the Spanish government in? How can you wear that expression on your face?"
Normally, his face should have shown panic, anxiety—at least some guilt by now.
But Camacho was different.
As if he'd done nothing wrong, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, utterly calm.
That attitude made veins bulge on Luis's forehead.
"Can you handle this mess? You?"
The room fell deathly silent at those words. All eyes turned to Camacho.
But he just snorted, lifting his head.
"Handle it? President."
His voice was nonchalant, laced with mockery.
"I just used a way to win. Puyol did the same. I don't get why everyone's making such a fuss over a coach making a situational sub."
"Ha... what the hell are you talking about?"
Luis wanted to slap him right then, but he swallowed his rage and continued deliberately.
"If Puyol had done that interview alone, fine. We could've brushed it off as personal friction between player and coach. But who was there?"
His voice grew lower; the room held its breath.
"Barcelona president Joan Gaspart. You know he's not just a club head—he's one of Catalonia's symbols. Him standing with Puyol publicly means... this isn't just football anymore."
Before Luis could finish, Camacho shrugged with a sneer.
"By that logic, I'm a Real Madrid legend. If Catalonia backs Puyol, I can back myself with the government and association. What's the problem?"
Luis stared at him a moment, then laughed hollowly.
Now he finally understood the delusion.
Thinking the government, Madrid would protect him...
"Fine, let me explain it simply since you can't grasp the issue. If everything Puyol said is true, it's not just your football career ending—your whole life is over. The government? Association? Madrid? You think they'll shield you?"
Luis sneered and shook his head.
"Naive fool... To the Spanish government, keeping Catalonia part of Spain matters far more than one coach. They can sacrifice a guy like you without batting an eye."
His words echoed through the room; for the first time, a flicker of stiffness crossed Camacho's face, and the air grew icy.
"No need to say more."
Luis took a deep breath and spoke firmly.
"Hold a press conference now. Admit everything, announce your dismissal as coach and permanent ban from Spanish football."
He paused, scanning the executives one by one.
"Contact the government too. Tell them we must resolve this before it worsens ties between Catalonia and the central government. And frame this not as a football issue, but a crime inciting national division."
Only then did Camacho realize something was wrong and lunge to grab Luis—but Luis roughly shook him off.
"Handle it fast. Or we're all in danger too."
As Luis predicted, the government moved immediately—they couldn't ignore the raging public opinion any longer.
They cut ties with Jose Antonio Camacho and held an emergency press conference.
"The discriminatory words and actions in our national team that insulted a Catalan player are utterly unacceptable. We sincerely apologize for the cultural arrogance and central overreach lingering from the Franco era."
It was the first time the Spanish government officially acknowledged 'discrimination against Catalonia in sports'.
The press room buzzed; the weight of that statement was immense.
But the announcement didn't end there.
A simple apology wouldn't quell the boiling public fury.
"In reflection on this incident, to respect Catalonia's culture and identity, we will implement two measures. First, establish the Catalan Heritage Fund, fully supporting Catalan arts, language, and broadcasting projects with government budget. Second, regularize a Catalan news program on national broadcaster RTVE to ensure cultural equality."
At the press conference's close, the government official on the podium set down his papers and slowly raised his head.
His eyes flashed sharply.
"And to the former Spain national team coach who threatened national unity and led citizens toward division—Jose Antonio Camacho—the Spanish government will pursue legal accountability directly."
With that, it was over.
Camacho lost all positions in a single day; the Spanish Football Association issued a statement confirming his permanent ban.
After the announcement, all of Catalonia erupted in cheers.
Decades of pent-up resentment and anger burst forth.
Squares filled with people embracing and shouting.
"We won!"
"Justice prevails!"
And at the center was the one who spoke the truth—Puyol.
He instantly became the 'symbol of justice', revered as Catalonia's hero.
But astonishingly, they began chanting another hero's name.
"¡Park Si-hyun! ¡El espejo de la justicia! (Park Si-hyun, Mirror of Justice!)"
It was Korea's Park Si-hyun.
To them, he wasn't just a footballer.
His Mirror Foul was seen as a symbolic act exposing power, violence, and corruption.
"Park Si-hyun is the true symbol of freedom!"
"His football was justice!"
They hoisted placards emblazoned with Park Si-hyun's name high in the square's center.
His name fluttered in the wind amid red flags.
Hearing the news back at his lodgings, Park Si-hyun sat dazed for a long while before scratching his head and mumbling.
"Wait... I like Real Madrid more, though. They look way handsomer, right?"
To Park Si-hyun, utterly clueless about the historical context, the whole situation was just baffling.
He'd simply thought the handsomer team suited him better.