Leo Olmunt, the Divine Physician (3)
‘Survival Kings.’ A nickname typically given to teams that somehow manage to stay alive in the first division. In the K-League, that title had long belonged to Incheon Pelicans. They’d pull off dramatic comebacks in the second half to escape the relegation zone. Sure, it could be a fluke once. But when flukes keep happening, they turn into destiny. Even when it looked like they were surely going down, Incheon Pelicans always found a way to survive.
But last season was different. No clear reinforcements, no turnaround points at all. And so, the Survival Kings of Incheon dropped to the second division. Most people figured they’d wander lost there for years. But Incheon appointed Coach Yoon Gichun.
They’ve staged a revival, showing a level far above Suwon Red Motors. Aside from that one loss to Suwon Red Motors so far, it’s been all wins. Right now, the scariest opponent for Gimpo Green UTD is Coach Yoon Gichun’s Incheon Pelicans. So everyone expected us to lose…
“Cover behind! Number 29!”
“No way!”
But the result was the complete opposite of what people thought.
This match, Jun Kyung-sunbae is key. Incheon’s defense is strong in man-marking, so instead of Eun Sang with his high peaks but low floors, Jun Kyung-sunbae’s steady reliability is perfect. Assuming his form’s back, that is.
“Olmunt, switch actively with Jun Kyung-sunbae and spread wider than usual.”
“Their defense is solid and compact, so don’t rush in recklessly. Especially—do not force a dribble.”
The coach and assistants know it too, drilling it into us right up until kickoff.
Just before the start, I shot a glance at Jun Kyung-sunbae. His eyes were sharp again. Hard to say for sure until the whistle, but my gut feeling was good.
Beep!
And sure enough, my hunch proved right almost immediately after kickoff.
Incheon set up a tight defensive shape from the start, pressing us hard. Their star mercenary Zeki led a fierce attack, but…
“Argh!”
“Where do you get off with that fancy footwork?”
Zeki’s charge was blocked clean by Dong Han-sunbae. Not a foul—pure defending.
With attacks through Zeki fizzling out, Incheon’s control of the game slowly flipped to us. Two main reasons: We had our own star mercenary on par with Zeki, and my link-up with Jun Kyung-sunbae was clicking like it hadn’t in ages.
Sunbae pressed relentlessly, then passed to me, Paulo, or the fullbacks whenever he won the ball.
“Hey!”
He’d feed it to me and cut inside to open space for Paulo, or switch with me for a shot on goal.
“Hyung, you’re on fire today? Sticking to your strengths—you’re absolute top form.”
Cha Woo-sunbae added it teasingly as Jun Kyung-sunbae looked a bit disappointed at missing a chance. Not just me—everyone had hoped for this from him. His skills might not dazzle, but he injects life into the attack line. With Paulo and me in form, the more sunbae roams their half, the more space we get.
Naturally, their players had to mind sunbae, me, and Paulo—which created obvious cracks.
In the 30th minute, sunbae calmly shielded the ball from the fullback and played it back to me as I looped around. The fullback lunged a step late…
Whoosh!
I was already gone. In a blink, I was hugging the touchline. Just outside the box, Paulo was busting a gut to get there.
Hurry up, man.
Too late for Paulo to shoot. If I’d pushed farther in, same issue. Smacking my lips in frustration, I lofted a high cross while keeping my speed.
The defenders, expecting me to drive on, hesitated. Paulo seized the gap, positioned perfectly outside the box.
He shrugged off a late-arriving defender’s shoulder and nodded it down.
Thud!
Not a powerful header for goal—the ball floated weakly into that awkward no-man’s-land between defender and keeper.
And that space? It was exactly where Jun Kyung-sunbae—having switched positions with me—was surging forward.
Caught in backpedals again, Incheon’s defenders froze.
Splash!
Jun Kyung-sunbae’s second goal. The period on his slump.
Even as the ball ripped the net and bounced to a stop, sunbae stood dazed, staring at it like he couldn’t believe it. He only snapped out when we rushed over yelling.
“Insane! Lee Jun Kyung!”
“What? Dude’s crying!”
With reddened eyes, sunbae bowed gratefully to our away fans.
As he turned back…
“Pile on!”
Dong Han-sunbae’s call started the dogpile. We all knew how hard he’d worked, so we flattened him.
“Guys, thanks but… ow…”
The group celebration raged until the ref gave us a verbal warning.
Halftime ended with Gimpo leading, no twists.
Second half was more of the same. Sunbae kept dominating. Their fullback, a vet with top-flight experience, stuck tough—but sunbae held possession, released, and overlapped every time.
On a day this hot, he could’ve tried dribbling, but like possessed, he just sprinted everywhere, owning the right flank.
Worn down after 70 minutes of chasing? Or payback for lungs like he’d gotten new ones? Incheon’s fullback took a heavy touch—unlike him.
Sunbae pounced. The fullback chased, but sunbae coolly fed Kvirin Moll.
Thwang!
Kvirin’s signature Bundesliga-quick pivot pass went to Cha Woo-sunbae. He cut in and backheeled perfectly into empty space for me.
I trapped it easy and slotted to Paulo raising his hand in space.
Paulo flailed awkwardly with it, then nutmegged a leg for the shot.
Dagger goal.
Paulo bolted to the camera yelling “I’m Brazilian!” nonstop.
But honestly, Paulo can’t dribble. For a Brazilian, anyway. Lacking that fluid South American samba flair—kinda stiff and awkward.
Whether he knew or not, Paulo strutted proudly, patting his shoulder.
“Saw my insane skills? That’s samba soccer, Olmunt. I’m gonna be the top-scoring foreigner in Korea this season.”
Yeah, score a ton. Off my passes. You take golden boot, I’ll take assists king.
Incheon, after conceding, gave sunbae space to draw dribbles, pressing me and Paulo harder. But Coach grinned brightly and subbed in Eun Sang.
Eun Sang notched an assist to Cha Woo-sunbae late in the second half.
“Saw that?”
“What?”
“The hot prospect clubs are eyeing. Gimpo’s best cracker, Lee Eun Sang’s heroics.”
I shot him a deadpan look; he scratched his head.
“Well… I’ve got 6 assists.”
“Eun Sang. I’ve got 9. And ‘Yusu’?”
“You psycho Viking. That’s on you. But at this rate, some first-division club’ll bid in the summer window, right?”
Hmm… fair point. Kinda worries me. Even I think teams should consider him. Cheap transfer, hot form, low wages. Worth a punt.
I looked genuinely concerned; he lightly punched my arm, then grabbed my hand pleadingly.
“Dude, you think I’d leave mid-season? Gotta lift a trophy first. Momentum’s wild. And the club’ll treat me right soon enough.”
That’s what worries me. They’re giving me 100 million. What’ll they offer you? I’m sticking ’cause cheap here makes Europe easier. But if a good offer hits Eun Sang? No reason to stay.
My worry lingered through his explanation into the MVP interview.
“Incredible performance today—what’s your take?”
The reporter beamed at MVP Jun Kyung-sunbae.
“I’d been slumping hard. Thanks to the coach, teammates, and fans who believed without doubt. Truth is, I’m getting married soon. Didn’t realize it, but the pressure…”
“What? Sunbae’s marrying?”
“Whoa.”
“He’s finally going down that road. Don’t!”
“Bro drops marriage news in an MVP interview?”
Even Coach clapped in shock.
“When’d you get so tight with Jun Kyung-hyung?”
Cha Woo-sunbae asked happily, but I shrugged. Didn’t tell me but no one else either?
Sunbae hyped me up big after, but no one listened. He’d dropped marriage bombshell as his MVP thoughts.
His “Olmunt is a god” moment sadly got re-highlighted days later.
Gimpo Green UTD’s coach office. Once a mess, now tidy like the team vibe. Coach Nam Suhyeon sat waiting.
Knock knock. In walked Lee Jun Kyung.
Sunbae sat; Coach spoke first.
“Normally I’d chew you out. But things got funny.”
“Haha…”
Sunbae laughed awkwardly; Coach asked casually.
“So, free of head-of-household pressure now?”
“Well, actually…”
As sunbae left, Coach stared at the door, mulling.
“Olmunt helped with all his heart.”
Chewing sunbae’s words, Coach reflected on Olmunt’s season. Foreigner suddenly steps up, fluent Korean, cares for outcasts? Unbeknownst to Olmunt, Coach had already penciled him as Yoon Chaewoo’s replacement captain post-enlistment.
After Incheon, training pitch buzzing—especially revived Jun Kyung-sunbae—filled me with pride.
“Muuunt hyuuung~”
A pitiful yet ominous voice. I turned—Minsu, fanatic gleam in his eyes.
“Ma-match… I wanna play. Divine Physician Olmunt, sir.”
What’s ‘Divine Physician Olmunt’? You my patient now?
Ignoring my baffled face, Minsu clutched my pants, begging for treatment.
“Please! Just once… one time only…”