Step Up (3)
Step Up (3)
31
There is such a thing as momentum in soccer.
It's an intangible force that you can't see or measure quantitatively, but you naturally feel it when you're playing a match.
It's not just players who can feel it; anyone can.
Simply put, even when playing a game, don't you get a sense of whether your team has the advantage or not? The accuracy of that feeling is secondary; that kind of momentum or flow is like a sixth sense that any human can feel.
And unfortunately, this sixth sense tends to be more accurate the more ominous it is.
'Ah, fuck. The vibe is fucking ominous.'
The whistle signaling the restart of the match blows, and our team's central striker, 4th-year senior Na Jin-ho, lightly pushes the ball forward.
I pass the ball I received back toward the defensive line and slowly head to my position on the left flank, scanning the pitch.
This is the first time this season our team has conceded the opening goal.
We've been on a winning streak, overwhelming our opponents, and before I joined, our team was one that had overwhelmingly more draws than wins or losses.
In a soccer league, having overwhelmingly more draws than wins or losses means that those draws are often 0:0. Because in soccer, it's more common to end in a 0:0 draw than a 1:1, 2:2, or higher-scoring draw.
Naturally, the foundation for such a bizarre record requires solid defensive ability.
Logically, what would you do if you met a team with shitty attacking power that only draws? One hundred out of a hundred times, you'd play aggressively. The fact that they managed to get a draw even in those situations means they are defensively solid.
In other words, our team has long been known for playing pragmatic football—or more accurately, sleep-inducing anti-football—that rarely concedes goals.
And at the center of it was our team captain, 4th-year senior Go Ji-sik, whom the Coach had selected as a starter since his second year and who has been working with the Coach for three years now.
In the midst of our winning streak, our captain and key player left due to injury.
And sure enough, we conceded the opening goal right after the match started due to a mistake by the defensive line.
It would be strange if the atmosphere were good.
Naturally, even after the match restarted, our team's atmosphere was unsettled.
I couldn't explain it clearly, but while calmly passing the ball around with a nervous heart because the defensive line looked somehow disorganized,
"Ref! Offside! That's offside!!"
Another disaster struck.
About 10 minutes into the first half, 5 minutes after the match restarted.
Ji-hak University, who scored the opening goal, was moving exactly as they had at the start.
They didn't shrink back defensively just because they scored, nor did they get excited and play aggressively; they maintained their tactical balance exactly as they had from the beginning.
Ji-hak University, who came out with a typical 4-4-2 formation, had two strikers in a big-and-small configuration, continuing their monotonous attacks. This time, too, they slowly passed the ball from the back to draw our team in, and then,
Boom!
As soon as they thought our defensive line had pushed up a bit, they suddenly launched a long ball.
The opposing 'big' striker sprinted to secure the landing spot, but it wasn't an unexpected tactic; our team's defense responded with the same obvious counter to such an obvious tactical movement.
Pushing the line up to trap them in an offside position.
A team with a well-organized defensive structure didn't need to take unnecessary risks by forcing a header contest.
The opponent's attack wasn't some unexpected creative play, but an obvious pattern, so it would be a bigger problem if we unnecessarily contested it, got called for a foul, or missed the second ball after losing the contest.
As expected, our well-organized defensive line moved forward in unison to push the line up, which should have meant that the attacker, who was ahead of our last defender, would be offside if they received the ball—but oh no.
Oh Sang-tae, whose mentality was shattered, reacted a beat too late.
The opposing attacker, who caught the ball while almost overlapping on the same line, faced no interference from our defensive line, which had fallen behind while pushing up. They got a 1:1 chance with the goalkeeper, an open chance almost directly in front, and calmly shook the net.
"Ref!! That's offside!! Check VAR!!"
The Coach went wild, but the video review determined it was marginally onside, making the score 2:0.
Five minutes after the restart, we were back at the center circle waiting for the match to begin again.
'Ah, fuck. We're in big trouble.'
I have a bad feeling that if we just stand by like this, we're going to lose like dogs.
'This won't do. I'm the only one who can solve this.'
Our team doesn't have good attacking power, and apart from me, there aren't any players with particularly outstanding individual skills.
In the end, I'm the only one who can solve this situation.
Well. I've been doing it all from the beginning anyway.
Wasn't our team's attack entirely dependent on me from the start?
It'll be a bit tough, but...
"Senior! From now on, funnel the ball to me!"
"What? How much?"
"Just... everything when we're attacking."
"Hey! Does that make sense? What are you, Messi?"
"Then what else can we do in this situation? I'll try to break through."
"Ha...."
The seniors, who were looking at me in disbelief, soon nodded, and in the resumed match, I started receiving the ball to a point that felt one-sided.
'Left!'
And the subsequent breakthroughs.
'Got past— danger!'
As soon as I got past one, the player right behind rushed at me.
And if I got past that one, another player rushed in.
"Fuck!"
No matter how good my individual ability is, soccer is a team sport after all.
Breaking through 3-4 people alone is impossible... no, it's only possible if the situation supports it.
How can I break through when 2-3 opponents are crowded in a tight space?
For the remaining 30 minutes, I attempted over 10 dribbling breakthroughs, and all of them failed.
"Hey, you asshole! Get your head in the game! If you don't want to play, just say so, you bastard!!"
"...I'm sorry."
The locker room after the first half ended.
Oh Sang-tae, whose mentality was shattered, hung his head with a pale, ashen face.
My reckless dribbling breakthroughs failed to score a consolation goal, but thanks to the opposing team playing defensively, surprised by my ability to get past 1-2 players whenever I tried, we fortunately didn't concede any more goals.
However, Oh Sang-tae's play was so far from normal that there were dangerous moments even against the opponent's sloppy attacks, to the point where calling it 'fortunate' was a stretch.
He was so intimidated that he couldn't clear, check, or press properly; it made me think that even an amateur would be better than this.
The Coach, who had been scolding Oh Sang-tae for a while, must have noticed his pale, ashen face and trembling hands, because he cleared his throat with an 'oops' expression.
"Sang-tae."
"Ye-yes, Coach."
"I know you're not in top form since this is your first start this season. Mistakes? You can make them. Anyone can make mistakes. So, you asshole, play with some confidence. Even if you make the same mistake, there's a difference between making it while playing confidently and making it because you're scared."
"Ye-yes...."
"You asshole! Straighten your shoulders! Did you commit a crime?"
He did, though.
If it's to that extent, he has nothing to say even if it's called a crime.
"Even if you take off your pants and shit yourself on the field, I won't sub you out. So play with confidence. You got that?"
The team members patted Oh Sang-tae, who finally lifted his head at the Coach's words.
No matter how annoyed they were or how much they wanted to say, every player has had the experience of putting in their worst performance.
"And Hong Min-jun."
"Yes, Coach."
"Are you Messi?"
"Yes?"
"Are you Mbappe?"
I stared at him blankly, wondering what he was talking about, when the Coach shouted with a face flushed bright red.
"You asshole, who do you think you are to ignore the tactics and move however you want!!"
"...Yes? I was just trying to figure out a way to solve the situation..."
"Hey, you asshole!! That's just you charging in because you think you're so great!"
Honestly, I felt wronged.
Then what was I supposed to do in that situation?
An anxious defensive line and a mediocre attacking squad.
In a monotonous attacking tactic that relied solely on me, wasn't the only thing I could do to step up even more aggressively?
Seeing my aggrieved expression, the Coach snickered.
"Hey! That fancy footwork of yours only works because your seniors are backing you up, you punk. I told you. You're a blockhead, so just do what you're told. Do you even know how much your seniors are sacrificing to let you shine? Huh? Don't just run around thinking you're all that; develop some tactical vision, or if you can't do that, just shut up and do as you're told, you punk. Why are you so annoyed?"
"...No, I'm not."
"You say you're not, but you look pretty fucking annoyed. But you being annoyed is one thing, aren't the seniors annoyed too?"
I just blinked at the sudden remark, and the Coach gestured with his chin.
"Don't you think the seniors who took on the sacrificial roles just to make you stand out are annoyed? You asshole, do you think you got past everyone whenever you dribbled in the games so far just because you're so great? If that were the case, you'd be playing in Europe. Your seniors are running their asses off to create space for you. You get it?"
"...Yes."
"So don't run around on your own. Trust your seniors and play. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"No. I don't."
The Coach, who was looking at me with a look that said 'is this punk rebelling?', nodded.
"Right. You're a blockhead, so you need things explained to you."
"...I'm not a blockhead."
"You asshole, you are a blockhead. So listen to everything I explain from now on."
Ah, fuck.
While the Coach was setting up the tactics board, the seniors looking at me and mouthing things while smiling were annoying. I told them I'm not a blockhead.
"Ah~ everyone, the match is so one-sided."
The woman holding a selfie stick and filming the ground makes a regretful expression.
"I came all the way down here because they said a monster prospect appeared in the university league, but it's a bit disappointing. Still, his individual skill to get past 1-2 players is clearly excellent, right? Ah, it looks like the second half is starting! Then please stay with FootBall In Love for the second half!"