Chapter 14: Old Ties (1)
Hmm… Watching the flood of transfer news, one thing really hits me: we're one short, no matter how you slice it.
Our team's strength is the unbelievable quality of our key players relative to our budget. So, what's the weakness?
It's that we have exactly the squad size our budget allows. In other words, our bench is paper-thin and breaks way too easily.
The coach has been patching those holes masterfully for the most part. But there's one gap he just can't seem to fill.
The U22 quota and the left back position.
The U22 quota is a mandatory playing time rule for young prospects. To use all five subs, you need at least one U22 player starting and one on the bench.
For that, we've got the newly signed Youngjin and Minsu, who's always full of hustle.
But don't we need one more just in case? A prospect who can hold his own in the first team. And while we're at it, the left back spot is perpetually short-staffed.
Plus, the coach keeps hinting during training that he wants to push Captain Chaewoo up to left wing…
Imagine if we landed a solid left back. Chaewoo on the left, Eunsang on the right—our flanks would be fire.
Just thinking about it is killer.
So, is there someone who could fill the U22 quota and the left back role? One signing, two birds—perfect.
Actually, one name popped into my head right away. Someone who fits the bill exactly.
Young, left back, and at least good for 0.8 of a player's worth. But I quickly dismissed it as a pipe dream.
The club will handle it, right?
…
Yeah, no. I know better. My eyes aren't blind—hell, as a white guy, they're huge.
Just look at how they almost picked Miguel over me; that alone proves they're clueless. A promising left back who can actually play?
Bring him in. But he's expensive. And we're already splurging on FAs left and right…
Can't expect that from our club. Better to call this squad good enough and move on. Not like I can do much about it anyway.
I'm just a player. Speaking of which, I wonder how Heemun's doing.
Back in my Yoon Jongmun days, he was a little bro from the neighborhood. Last I heard, he joined Suwon Hwaseong FC a couple years back.
Let me check… Whoa?
I froze the second I searched his name on the wiki.
Kim Heemun (soccer player) … Released on free contract.
Even setting aside my personal history with him, this guy's worth signing.
Objectively? He's no superstar. But he'd be valuable for our team.
And if I'm right, the club has zero interest in a left back right now. So why not go straight to the coach?
That's why I'm pacing outside his office after training. I need to go in, but… scary.
What if this is pointless and he already has someone in mind? Or he sees it as overstepping?
These dumb worries have me frozen.
"What're you doing?"
Donghan spots me circling the door like a dog desperate to poop. Our eyes meet.
It's awkward to explain in detail, so I mumble something about needing to talk to the coach but chickening out.
Knock knock!
Donghan suddenly raps on the door.
"Come in."
The coach's voice echoes from inside. Donghan winks and vanishes.
What the hell?
Now I'm facing the coach totally unprepared.
Stepping in, the office chaos hits me before the man himself—files everywhere, tactic board magnets in wild combos.
My eyes lock on the scattered files.
Lee Changhee (20), Moon Siyun (20), Yoo Jungwoo (20)
Left back prospects released this season due to contract expiry. Never heard of them, so probably not hidden gems.
Phew. First hurdle cleared.
The coach is hunting for a left back.
"Huh? Olmunt? What's up?"
He figured it was a coach or staffer—surprised to see me. I take a deep breath and dive in.
"Coach, I've got a player to recommend."
"Huh?"
His eyes go wide, then he chuckles.
"Appreciate it, but Kvirin's our foreigner. Can't sign more."
"Left back."
"What?"
Bigger reaction, but his face sours quick.
"Like I said, no more foreigners—"
"Korean."
"What? Who?"
Easier than expected. Almost too easy.
"Kim Heemun… Played in the first division? Damn, solid in Gyeonggi too? Call him up. We'll test anytime."
Shit, now I've hyped him up big time. I leave with the coach's expectations sky-high.
Permission granted, but how do I contact the guy? We were tight as Yoon Jongmun, but as Olmunt? Strangers.
I'm the only one feeling the bro vibes here.
If a random foreigner calls out of the blue inviting him to Gimpo Green UTD? He'd think voice phishing, laugh it off at best.
Still, I dial. Wait—shit, no number. Digital dementia's real.
I fumble into Stargram. After agonizing, I fire off a long DM from my personal account.
Will he reply? It's a sports star account with ten thousand followers. Please, no read-and-ghost. I'm begging.
Next day's training? Distracted as hell. He read it, but no reply.
Still nothing after. This is bad…
What do I tell the coach?
"What, got rejected?"
Eunsang teases. Feels exactly like getting dumped—I'm deflated.
"Hey… why the long face? Sorry, you actually get ghosted?"
Ding!
Oh?
I shove off clingy Eunsang and bolt outside.
"Dude! What is it? Spill before you go. I wanna get a girlfriend too…"
I ignore his pitiful whine and head to the meetup spot.
Early—plenty of buffer. But released from Suwon Hwaseong, coming to Gimpo? Might run late.
Heemun spots me, eyes bugging out in shock.
He stammers, sits, takes a huge breath. Fidgets forever before speaking.
"You're really Olmunt?"
I shoot him a deadpan look. Like there's another guy with this face at Gimpo?
He backpedals fast—knows it sounds dumb.
"No, I mean, a second-division foreigner asking in perfect Korean if I wanna join? Thought my Insta got hacked, phishing scam. And your Korean… you always spoke it this well? How do you even know me? Seven games at Suwon Hwaseong—that's it."
Sharp questions for a panicked ramble. Fair points.
Normally, Olmunt wouldn't know Korean or Heemun. Can't back down, though.
Time for some soulful bullshit.
"Whoa… slow down, okay? Too fast."
Buy time, think. He looks flustered—what can he do? I'm a foreigner.
"But that eloquent long DM? Fluently?"
"A.I."
Boom. AI's god-mode.
While he strings simple sentences slowly, I craft my excuse.
By the end, I've got it: pretend Olmunt knew Yoon Jongmun.
"Huh? When? Hyung had no friends."
Damn, sharp as ever. But I've got an ace.
"We bonded when he got injured."
"Happened too often."
Still the same punk. Wanna smack him?
"When I injured him, he came to apologize at the hospital? Ward?"
"Wasn't on purpose."
Gotcha—childish, but it lands.
"Anyway, we got close there. Picked up some Korean too."
"Yeah… checks out. Bro."
"Heard from Jongmun back then. Said he bought you cleats."
"Right? Got me on the team after tryouts 'cause of those. Cool neighborhood hyung. Said I had talent. So… I can actually play at Gimpo?"
Key moment. Gotta sell it.
"You'll start left back for at least two years."
"Two years? Wait, why?"
"U22 rules."
"Loosened this season."
"Not in second division."
Hooked. Real talk: He's fringe first-division material. Best case, solid second-division rotation.
But for Gimpo's special case? Two years minimum.
Second division still enforces full U22: one starter under 22, one sub, both must play for five subs.
He's our only guy who can reliably battery and start.
Whether he wants it or not, one to two years guaranteed. After? Tough in first division, but second-division clubs will call.
I lay it out simple.
Heemun ponders, but hope shines through.
Probably thrilled at another shot at soccer. Players are like that.
"Thanks. Was gonna try K3 or retire. But another chance…"
Voice cracks with relief. Awkward, but I get it—felt the same getting cut in Seoul.
"Was rough. Jongmun hyung gone, Dosik hyung turned into a shut-in after."
Familiar name drops. Shut-in?
"What?"
I jolt, demanding details.
Might as well meet one more person while I'm at it.