Olympic Group Stage (6)
Olympic Group Stage (6)
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My first shot narrowly grazed the goalpost, missing a good opportunity.
It would be a lie to say I wasn't disappointed, but I quickly shook off the regret.
'My condition is great today. Since this match will be played offensively around me, another chance will come.'
I'm not a player with great finishing ability.
Even so, the reason I'm scoring many goals is because I have the ability to make up for my lacking finishing ability.
After the first attack, our team started pushing aggressively, continuing the attack actively before the Spanish players could regain their composure.
After overcoming a few precarious situations, the opportunity finally arrived.
"Hong Min-jun! Don't force it, pass it back! Hey! You brat!"
"Pass it here!"
I ignored the clamor of my teammates.
Because when I saw the Spanish players pressing in, I felt something flash in an instant.
'I can do it.'
Perhaps because my earlier breakthrough was humiliating, Fernando and Martin Zubimendi came running, gritting their teeth. The two rushed in almost simultaneously, as if competing.
If the two had pressed and backed each other up properly, it would have been difficult, but if they rush in like this... the narrow gap between the two players.
I dove into that gap.
Expectations had risen due to the big win against Honduras, but soccer fans predicted a defeat because the next opponent was Spain, famous for their Golden Generation.
They only hoped the players would show fighting spirit so they could at least hear "good game despite the loss" even if they lost.
However, once the match started, the situation changed. When the match first began, the situation seemed to flow as expected, but it was completely turned around by one sharp attack from the national team.
"The ball coming in long! Fernando is running! Ah, Hong Min-jun gets to it first and passes to Seol Yo-han. Seol Yo-han back to Hong Min-jun. Hong Min-jun, Hong Min-jun is running!"
"He's fast! Hong Min-jun is fast! Uh-oh, our players shouldn't get excited! They shouldn't get excited!! They shouldn't all go in!!"
"They need to get back quickly, Hong Min-jun, he's beaten them! Shoot right away!!"
"Ah~ A shot that narrowly misses the goalpost. A very regrettable shot."
It wasn't just the caster and commentator who were excited.
—What was that just now;;
—His speed is insane lol, he's just crossing the whole soccer field?
—Who was that just now? He's so good, damn.
ㄴHong Min-jun
ㄴWho is that?
ㄴThat player just now.
—People bashed Hong Min-jun saying he was only there because of connections, but he's actually the best one there lol.
—I just turned on the TV, why is a movie actor playing soccer?
The sigh of regret over the shot that narrowly missed the goalpost lasted only a moment.
The national team, with their Momentum up, started aggressively pushing Spain.
"Uh-oh? It looks like the line is pushed up too high?"
"If you look closely, most of the players are in the Spanish half. This is dangerous. They're too vulnerable to counterattacks."
"Oh Pyo-sik, who narrowly avoided losing the ball! Back to Chae Gyu-seok. Kim Dae-seong. Back to Chae Gyu-seok. It's Hong Min-jun."
The Korean players, who were precariously maintaining possession as if they were about to lose the ball at any moment due to the Spanish players' strong pressure, exchanged a few passes and connected the ball to Hong Min-jun.
The commentator quickly continued as Hong Min-jun stopped the ball right in front of him with a soft first touch.
"Hong Min-jun, you shouldn't hold onto the ball in this situation! You need to pass it quickly before the Spanish players close in!"
Unlike the Korean players who were busy just passing the ball around due to the Spanish players' strong pressure, Hong Min-jun was relaxed when he caught the ball. To the commentator, excessively so.
—F*ck, what is that guy doing?
—He needs to pass quickly, he's dragging it so much.
—Ah, we're screwed, if we lose the ball here, we're f*cked.
—I knew it, people praised him a bit and now he doesn't know his place.
ㄴAren't you the guy who asked who Hong Min-jun was earlier?
—The Spanish guys are all in position, f*ck, it's so frustrating, pass it already!!
Hong Min-jun, who couldn't hear the clamor of the viewers, moved forward with a relaxed expression, lightly tapping the ball in front of him.
The Spanish players surrounding him on all sides rushed in an instant.
"Ah! It's dangerous!! It's dangerous, Hong Min-jun!!"
"He's lost it, no, he's beaten them! He's beaten them, Hong Min-jun!! An amazing La Croqueta!!"
The ball moving between the insides of his feet like lightning.
La Croqueta. Commonly known as the Phantom Dribble.
"A chance, it's a chance!! Hong Min-jun, it's a chance!!"
"Shoot! He has to shoot!! Shooooot— Ah, he beats another one, shoot!! Goal!! Goooal!!"
"An incredible goal has been scored!! A truly fantastic opening goal! The protagonist is number 7, Hong Min-jun! It's player Hong Min-jun!!"
The two people who jumped up from their seats cheered at the top of their lungs.
—Hong Min-jun!! Hong Min-jun!! Hong Min-jun!! Hong Min-jun!! Hong Min-jun!! Hong Min-jun!! Hong Min-jun!! Hong Min-jun!!
—Mom, when I grow up I want to be Hong Min-jun!! Mom, when I grow up I want to be Hong Min-jun!! Mom, when I grow up I want to be Hong Min-jun!!
—F*ckkkkkkkkkkk what did I just see? Why is Messi on the Korean Olympic team!!!!
ㄴI used to see this during Messi's prime, why is a Korean kid actually doing it;;
—This is all-time... This is truly an all-time goal.
—That's a college leaguer...?? What kind of place is the college league;;
Mikel Merino's jaw dropped.
"My god... What did I just see? Why is Messi in Korea."
Muttering the same thing as the Korean netizens, Mikel picked up his dropped pen and stared blankly around him. The Spanish spectators, who had been deafeningly loud, were frozen cold.
"Hmm? That guy is... Frank? And isn't that Erickson next to him."
Football figures he had gotten to know over decades of working as a football journalist. Frank was a scout for Hertha Berlin, and Erickson was a scout for Chelsea.
If he looked, there would probably be more scouts sitting there.
Their original purpose must have been the Spanish players, not the Korean ones. They must have been trying to check the performance of Spain's young talents, the so-called Golden Generation.
'This is... a showcase. Hong Min-jun, was it? That player has skill, and he even has luck. When you discover a gem you weren't expecting, it shines even brighter.'
What would the countless scouts sitting there to observe the Spanish players think after watching this match today?
Probably, it was clear that Hong Min-jun would receive attention from the European football world in the future.
"Back number 7... Hong Min-jun. A new star is being born."
It is an honor to see a match where a rising star is born in person. It was the first time in Mikel's long career as a reporter that he had witnessed the birth of a rising star live.
'It would have been better if the opponent hadn't been our Spain... .'
Swallowing his regret, Mikel busily moved his pen.
[South Korea's back number 7, Hong Min-jun, displayed elegant ball touches and unbelievable technique, just like Messi. Soft trapping, the gaze and body path when receiving the ball, and even flashing genius. He only lacks a bit of passing skill, but he has the DNA of Barcelona— ]
As soon as the second half started, the Spanish players pressed fiercely.
It must be their will not to be pushed back by our team, which had come out aggressively. Our team's players, who didn't have as excellent Press Resistance as the Spanish players, were pushed back by the pressure and often passed the ball to the rear, and as the point where the ball moved lowered, the team's overall line naturally lowered as well.
"Go up! Push the line up!!"
The coach kept shouting, but just not conceding a goal against the Spanish players, who were applying intense pressure as if they weren't considering their stamina, was the limit for our team's players.
However, the fact that the line had lowered due to the opponent's active pressure meant, in other words, that the space behind the opponent's defense had also widened. The defense, which was busy just blocking Spain's attacks, barely cleared a pass that was heading into the penalty box.
The ball, kicked away without a moment to think, coincidentally headed behind the Spanish defensive line that had come up almost to the half-line, and I instinctively ran toward the opponent's territory.
The moment I trapped the falling ball, Fernando, who had rushed in like a bison, stretched out his foot, but,
'Clumsy.'
I received the ball with the inside of my right foot while jumping, placing it in a good position to run.
Fernando, whose physical ability was not inferior, quickly stuck to my back to try and steal the ball, but I shook him off with a light feint and kept running.
I see the Spanish goalkeeper rushing out of the goal toward me.
Was his name Alvaro Fernandez? They said he was a veteran goalkeeper who was selected as a Wild Card and had plenty of experience in La Liga... but to my eyes, he's really nothing special.
Watching the goalkeeper, who was lowering his stance and had his arms spread out downwards as if preparing for a ground ball, approaching hesitantly, I threw a shooting feint.
I planted my standing foot, continued with a cool follow-through swing—and at the last moment, I tapped the ball and went past.
The goalkeeper, who had predicted a shot, twisted his body late and sat down, and I lightly kicked the bottom of the ball a few steps in front.
The ball, which floated up, headed toward the goal at a not-so-fast speed, over the hands of the flailing goalkeeper, and although a Spanish defender who had run desperately passed me and threw his body in front of the goal,
Beep, beeeep!!
It was already inside the goal line.
It was the 2nd goal.
"Block it!! Block it properly!!"
"Damn it, shut up Jose!! You try blocking it!!"
"Fck... Fck...!!"
3rd goal.
The Spanish players, who had been furiously angry at the defense, stared blankly at the goal with dazed expressions. The net had already been shaken for the 3rd time.
"We... conceded 3 goals?"
"Why? Why can't we stop one person? Why...?"
Until the 2nd goal was conceded, the Spanish players, who had been furiously angry and burning with motivation, were standing there with pale expressions.
The match restarted, but they looked like they were moving instinctively, with their bodies limp as if they had lost their souls.
The only one who didn't give up until the end and showed threatening movements was just one person, Jorge Garcia.
However, even Jorge Garcia, the genius representing Spain's Golden Generation, couldn't stop the team's defeat.
Beep, beep, beep!!
Match end.
South Korea 3 : 0 Spain
1st Half 7' Hong Min-jun
2nd Half 11' Hong Min-jun
2nd Half 23' Hong Min-jun
It was Korea's victory.