Chapter 18: Ties (5)
What is soccer?
If you posed that question, you'd get a wide range of answers.
But ask what's the easiest way to make soccer fans happy, and most would give a similar response.
Winning the game.
Soccer is, after all, a sport where you win by scoring more goals than the opponent.
The problem is that failing to do just that gets even the world's top teams showered in abuse.
And fans' lifespans shorten a little more each day.
But this also means soccer fans will feel great as long as their team wins—no matter how.
Even if the play is utter garbage, ugly to watch.
If the scoreboard shows their team ahead, fans will gladly applaud the players.
So even if our performance reeks of shit right now.
Even if controversy swirls after the final whistle.
Won't the fans be happy if we win?
Beep!
The referee's whistle snapped me out of my philosopher mode and back into soccer player reality.
At the same time, our pride and joy, Munich native Kvirin Moll, was lining up for a free kick.
Not far from the penalty box—close enough to go for a shot.
And with Kvirin's kicking form on fire today, a goal wasn't out of the question.
Kvirin took a short breath, then charged forward.
Thwack!
The sharp impact of foot on ball echoed, and the sphere rocketed into the top left corner.
Soon after, a wet splat against the net.
A massive roar erupted in an instant. Gimpo's contingent was small, but the moment called for it.
I bolted over and grabbed Kvirin Moll mid-celebration, yelling,
"Mr. Munich! You're insane!"
"What?"
"Free. Kick. Is. Crazy!"
I wanted to shout more, but the crowd wouldn't let me.
It took a bit to realize they were shielding Kvirin from my volume.
As things calmed, I glanced at the scoreboard.
3 : 2
We'd taken the lead.
Didn't we score in the first half too? Yeah.
So why this score...?
Maybe because we rotated four starters after training camp?
Or Suwon Red Motors' hidden depth?
I think it's both. Their tall bald mercenary forward dribbles way better than expected.
Thanks to him, we conceded two right after halftime and got turned around again.
A match that's driven both Suwon and Gimpo fans half-mad.
The rest of the game flowed a bit dully. Dull? Nah, with the crowd's heat rising, maybe not.
Three goals in fifteen minutes would rattle anyone.
We traded fierce attacks, but nothing came of it as time ticked on.
Leading Suwon Red Motors by one is nice, but ending with two assists feels short.
Can't get greedy with just a one-goal edge, though.
As I grumbled internally, a chance opened up.
I switched instantly with Eunsang on the right flank and took possession.
Their fullback lacked pace. As he closed in, I blew past him. He usually falls for that.
I ignored the gasping, dejected fullback chasing me and eyed my teammates.
"Hey!"
Eunsang raised his hand while running—I slotted it through.
Olmunt's power makes fine control tough, but hitting open space? Easy.
So Eunsang should score smoothly now, right?
He controlled it without hesitation and unleashed a shot.
"Wooooaaah!"
The stadium shook with cheers.
Suwon's Shin Taesong had stonewalled it. No wonder—national team keepers from the GK kingdom are a breed apart.
Eunsang shot me a panicked look. Nothing to do in that spot but thumbs-up and turn away.
I scratched my head, replaying the game. Three assists? Probably toast now. No excuse to stay on...
"Haa..."
A sigh escaped. Dosik aside, ending on a corner kick sucks.
Corners are my least favorite since reincarnating. In my past life, no big deal—no one marked me.
But now...
"Stick closer!" "Mark him tight!" "Hold him down!"
Every corner, I'm swarmed by sweaty uncles with clear malice.
Feels gross, marking the obvious target man.
With this frame, I can't head properly anyway—past-life trauma.
But drawing defenders fulfills my role, right?
As everyone eyed me, Eunsang whipped in a high corner.
Aimed at me even now, but...
I jumped somehow, but it was too high. I'm no Goliath.
The uncles' wall was a tad loose—they tumbled when I leaped.
As I turned my head...
Huh?
The keeper's shaky punch sent the ball arcing my way.
I'd accidentally toppled my markers in the scramble.
Stepping over the rolling uncles, I chest-trapped it clean.
Pop.
Lofted it into empty space.
No one there. Paulo was far off, same for the rest.
Then one guy flashed in.
Suwon's keeper dove late, but the thunderous header slipped past his fingertips in a blink.
The dagger goal sealed it.
Our hero? The forward who'd notched 5 goals and 5 assists in the first division last season.
'Crazy Dog' Kim Donghan.
As the net bulged, Donghan roared like an invisible dragon and charged.
Toward Suwon fans. Problematic.
Then he dropped to all fours.
Oh god. Doing the mad dog celebration for his nickname?
My head spun. Let this slide, and furious Suwon Red Motors fans would mob us.
Brain frozen, staring blankly—then I caught Dojin sunbae's desperate eyes.
Ice-cold vice-captain begging like that? Gotta stop this.
Thud thud thud!
Eunsang and I sprinted full tilt. With this counter energy, even without Miguel, no losing streak.
No words needed—we shared the mission. Peacekeepers got nothing on us.
I beat Eunsang there, so he blocked Suwon Red Motors players while I handled one rabid dog.
As Eunsang stalled the beet-red Suwon squad—like their team color—
I hoisted the dog-imitating *literally barking* Kim Donghan sunbae and...
Ran.
No better idea came.
Begging Suwon fans for mercy with gestures mid-escape—
Got a barrage of curses. Fair. I'd curse Donghan too.
Full speed, carrying him to the opposite goal, de-escalated the brawl.
Surveying: Chaewoo and Dojin sunbaes had joined for cosmic defense amid the tangle.
Good—core agitator Donghan was isolated.
Even the high-and-mighty ref, sweating bullets, barely mediated.
Extreme job today...
Feels kinship with the ref now.
But why's he yellow-carding me too?
Scratch that. Bald racist prick. Wanna yell "Watch the game properly!" but might backfire as reverse racism.
Soon after, the match wrapped.
Dagger goal at 89', plus Suwon flaming out—extra time hit 10 minutes. Shh.
We claimed a picturesque 4-2 win over promotion contenders Suwon Red Motors.
Shitty second half, gritty comeback, needless drama.
But we won. Outsiders'll yap, but Gimpo Green UTD fans will cherish these three points.
Bit embarrassing, though.
Post-game vibe was weird. Bows to home stands—no cheers.
Water bottles spared? Thanks to me? Suwon fans forgiving?
I got match MVP—league official, so no probing the sad endgame mess.
But sports press loved the gossip.
"Olmunt, stellar play today. But that unsavory incident right before the end—what happened?"
Please, reporter. I wanna go home safe. Pitiful eyes ignored.
"Uh... pardon? What you say?"
Foreigner card played.
"Olmunt, impressive performance today. But unfortunate incident near end—what happened?"
"Ursäkta, vad sa du?" (Excuse me, what?)
Ten years shaved off my life. English ambush.
Lucky no fluent Swedish speakers.
Translator app? Disaster. Bolted.
Thought Donghan sunbae'd get reamed—verbal warning only.
Why?
Bribery? Nah. My "Grab Kim Donghan and RUN!" instinct nipped bigger trouble.
Coach just scolded lightly.
Heard Donghan getting chewed out outside—minor, whatever. Alive wins.
Shitty play, incidents, but victory.
Fireworks of chaos made today feel endless.
But forgot something key... what?
Ding! Phone alarm jolted me.
Oh, right—three assists today?
Forgot amid Donghan magic. Impressive, but no reruns.
Now I can fix what I want: long passes and mid-range shots.
Did 'em well past life—around 19? Knee issues forced restraint.
This body struggles more than others. Rust from disuse?
Regretful, but can't beg coaches for solo drills. They don't expect it anyway.
If Donghan sunbae tried personal skills? I'd shut it down as coach.
So.
Time to fire some mids. Savi Olmunt takes the field.