Chapter 87
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: How Are You Going to Stop a Serious Park Si-hyun? (2)
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“Lee Kyung-kyu’s going! Going! Going!!!”
His signature high-pitched shout echoed through the stadium.
“Yes~ Hello, everyone, this is Lee Kyung-kyu! The sixth story of the 2002 Korea-Japan World Cup! Right now! I’m here at Seoul World Cup Stadium~!”
The venue was already boiling over with excitement.
The day South Korea made history by advancing to the semifinals for the first time.
Tens of thousands of fans had gathered to witness the miracle.
And right in the middle of it all was the man kicking off the broadcast with insane energy: Lee Kyung-kyu.
Beside him, as always, was his trusty sidekick, Kim Hyung-jun.
“These days, I don’t introduce myself as talent Kim Hyung-jun anymore.”
“Then what do you go by?”
“Soccer man Kim Hyung-jun. Because my heart! Is pumping with the hot blood of Korean soccer!”
Lee Kyung-kyu fired back as if he’d been waiting for it.
“Hahaha~ No, no! I’ve heard that one lately. Kim Hyung-jun’s just a backwater commentator!”
“No! Who’s saying that? Do you know how much I’ve been studying lately?!”
“You’ve studied a ton, but you still can’t talk worth a damn, Mr. Kim Hyung-jun~!”
Laughter erupted from the stands.
Before the tense kickoff, the duo’s rapid-fire banter was easing the atmosphere, if only for a moment.
But the laughter was short-lived...
“Oh, here they come! Our players are coming out!”
Lee Kyung-kyu shouted until his voice cracked.
“Look at the players! They all look like movie stars today! This is the spirit of South Korea!!!”
The stands rocked once more at his call.
“The referee’s whistle blows! Here we go!! 2002 Korea-Japan World Cup semifinal!! South Korea vs. Germany!!!”
“Man... today’s game feels totally different, hyung.”
“Mr. Kim Hyung-jun, Germany! The name alone is scary! But what country is South Korea? We did it! We beat Italy, we beat Spain! Today, we go again!!”
But just three minutes into the match...
“Whoa, careful now! Klose! Klose is open!!”
“The ball’s going to Klose—!!!”
BAM!
In an instant, the stadium’s air froze.
The cheers from the stands died down, replaced by hushed groans spreading through the crowd.
“Ahh... it went in...”
Jo Hyung-ki’s face hardened.
“Unbelievable, conceding in just three minutes of the first half...”
In a corner kick situation, Klose rose overwhelmingly high and buried the ball with his head.
A perfect-timed header.
Lee Kyung-kyu lost his words for a moment. His hand trembled on the mic.
Then he gritted his teeth and pulled himself together.
“It’s okay! We’re okay, everyone! There’s still plenty of time! Our players can do this!”
The stands boiled over again at his shout.
“Everyone! We gave up a goal in three minutes! But we’re the nation that’s created miracles for 90 minutes!!! It starts now!”
Fans rose one by one, joining in the roar.
Lee Kyung-kyu raised the mic high and yelled.
“Let’s all shout it! Show our players! The heat of South Korea!!!”
“South! Ko-re-a!”
“Clap clap clap clap clap!”
“South! Ko-re-a!”
“Clap clap clap clap clap!”
The cheers and vibrations shook the cameras.
He was an entertainer through and through, but in this moment, he was giving his all as South Korea’s twelfth player.
Klose’s goal froze the South Korean players in an instant.
They’d conceded first before, but never this early.
It wasn’t from someone’s mistake, lack of focus, or positional error.
Just...
The monster named Klose had slammed the ball home with timing beyond human limits.
That made the shock hit even harder.
‘Damn... it’s my fault...’
‘I should’ve covered faster...’
Self-reproach flashed across the defenders’ faces. But amid it all, I was different.
‘No issue at all. This goal changes nothing.’
It wasn’t from any tactical flaw.
We didn’t mess up; the opponent’s individual skill just edged us out for a split second.
And we could score one just like it.
The referee’s whistle blew, and play resumed.
We ramped up the tempo fast.
Pass, one-two, return.
Perfectly synced rhythm.
To break Germany’s organized movement, we had to shatter their rhythm with speed.
I surged forward quickly, and just as Yoo Sang-chul timed a pass, the German defense suddenly pushed up the line.
Pass to Park Si-hyun! Oh, the German defensive line surges up! Offside whistle!
This looks like a pre-planned move!
Yes, the defensive line pushed up the moment Park Si-hyun broke. Perfectly coordinated pattern.
This is Germany’s terror. One lag creates space, but they move like machines. The ultimate offside trap.
Right. Park Si-hyun’s counterattacks are world-class tough to stop, but this seals off the ball entirely.
Exactly. Korea’s tactics rely on quick counters, so this hurts extra.
Then how would Coach Cha Bum-keun handle this? Simple. Instead of counters, use quick build-up to slowly drag their line up and create space. Stay calm when it’s urgent. Germany’s perfect, but they’re human. Gaps will come. And Park Si-hyun can exploit them.
The tactics stayed the same.
You can’t switch just because it’s blocked once.
Hiddink’s plan wasn’t a one-trick pony; it was built to shake opponents over 90 minutes and carve out openings.
So we kept probing for counters.
But Germany made zero mistakes.
Their line moved like clockwork, offside trap flawless.
Of course, I didn’t just take it lying down.
I used dribbles and skill to shake one, two markers at a time.
But if one broke, another filled instantly.
And the sneaky fouls creeping in.
High-level ones the ref might miss.
‘What now...?’
I racked my brain fast, then dropped the line a touch.
‘Assess the full picture.’
Lee Young-pyo and Cha Du-ri were pushing up, Hwang Sun-hong pulling central defenders to open space.
Normally, I’d go to Yoo Sang-chul, then Lee Young-pyo to Park Ji-sung—textbook build-up.
But not this time.
‘Not Young-pyo hyung... Du-ri hyung.’
Lee Young-pyo’s passes are perfect. But against Germany’s machine, even perfection might not crack it.
What we needed wasn’t logic—it was explosion.
‘And the biggest explosion I know? Du-ri hyung.’
Germany was marking me tight, tying up Ji-sung hyung, blocking Sang-chul hyung’s advances.
But the unchecked variable they hadn’t accounted for yet:
The storm no one was even shadowing. Cha Du-ri.
I didn’t hesitate.
I stabbed a quick pass to Yoo Sang-chul and yelled.
“To Du-ri!!!”
No explanation needed for Sang-chul.
One look, and he got it. The ball flowed to the flank.
And in that instant, Cha Du-ri erupted.
The moment he took the ball, he bolted.
He nearly lost it a couple times, but didn’t stop.
He just ran.
Pouring everything out at once.
His explosive charge tore Germany’s line apart.
They never saw it coming.
A fullback—Cha Du-ri, World Cup debut starter—dribbling all the way to the attack line.
In that moment, Germany’s ironclad defense wavered.
The crumbling line. That one split-second gap.
“Du-ri!!!!”
I sprinted toward it, shouting.
Cha Du-ri whipped in the cross without pause.
But mid-stride, the trajectory wobbled, speed off.
‘No good. This is mine.’
I turned my back to defender Thomas Linke, lowering my center.
He shoved hard with his shoulder, but my balance held firm.
‘Damn, waiting for it to drop is too slow.’
Overhead or volley? Too many defenders close.
‘Dodge and make the angle.’
Thought and action synced—I spun, twisting my hips.
The ball dropped right into view.
Simple volley?
No—
Bicycle kick.
Like a taekwondo roundhouse, 180-degree spin, sole slamming the ball.
BAM—!!
Oliver Kahn’s eyes widened—
THUD!
The net exploded in a shake.
Even as Cha Du-ri pushed the line up, unease gnawed at him.
‘Is this right? I’m a defender... can I really go this far up...?’
Piercing his hesitant mind like an arrow came Park Si-hyun’s voice from midfield.
“To Du-ri!!!”
Those words struck his heart.
Hiddink trusted him. Si-hyun chose him.
Yet he was still doubting.
‘No... I need to be this game’s key breaker.’
“Let’s go! I can do it! Cha Du-ri can do it!!!!”
Receiving Yoo Sang-chul’s pass, Cha Du-ri charged.
For the coach who believed, for Si-hyun who picked him, to prove himself.
‘Ugh...!’
Full throttle from afar, he hit top speed quick—but the ball lagged.
It slipped slightly off his toe.
No stopping now.
“Somehow, make it happen. I’m Cha Du-ri.”
Gritting his teeth through the dribble, he lashed a hurried pass toward Si-hyun’s voice.
‘Damn, mishit it.’
Mid-run kick, no power behind it.
Too slow.
The ball arced lazily, giving Germany time to reset.
‘Yeah, I’m no good. Just...’
BAM—!!
A deafening impact rang out.
Cha Du-ri looked up. Park Si-hyun was mid-air, spinning in taekwondo roundhouse form, smashing the ball.
‘Ha... haha, that’s a real striker.’
He’d have cursed that pass.
Given up.
But Park Si-hyun turned impossible into possible.
‘Right... I can’t be like Dad. But I can be the player who delivers the coolest passes to guys like him.’
Passes faster, stronger, more destructive than anyone.
That was Cha Du-ri’s chosen soccer.