Slump (1)
Memories have a way of resurfacing, even when you try your hardest to bury them. The bad ones, especially, keep popping up uninvited, tormenting your life at every turn.
For a bad memory to hit you out of nowhere, it usually needs a trigger. A similar situation or place. But nothing packs a bigger punch than the person who inflicted it showing up right in front of you.
Like right now.
[Olmunt drives forward with the ball. One-on-one with Lee Youngik!]
[Lee Youngik grabs Olmunt roughly!]
*Whistle!*
[And that's a foul called in the end.]
[Yeah, he might even get a card for that. It was risky. That's Lee Youngik's style, sure, but he needs to rein in fouls like that.]
[Oh, just a verbal warning. Gimpo gets the free kick.]
[Classic Lee Jongwoo refereeing. Right?]
[Yep. They call him Sweet Jongwoo for good reasons and bad.]
[That's why both teams are playing extra rough. Kim Donghan laid into a Suwon player with a deep tackle in the first half, remember?]
"You okay, Olmunt?"
Senior Dojin grabbed my hand and helped me up after Lee Youngik's foul sent me tumbling.
"What're you doing getting all flustered against a big lug like that? Just shove him back."
I want to. God, I want to. But my body freezes every time. I still remember crystal clear the moment that bastard crushed me.
"That's what you get for playing like a punk, you little shit."
He'd yelled it while whispering right in my ear as I lay there. That was my last call-up to the youth national team. After that, injuries kept me out until retirement—I never even got close to another summons.
Just thinking about that moment makes my hands shake. And being anywhere near that guy does the same. I've never played soccer as dirty as he does.
Today alone: stepped on, elbowed, punched in the solar plexus. How does he get away with it in this VAR era?
Still, I'm a striker. No matter how dirty the defender plays, it's my job to shake them off.
I sighed inwardly and went back into the fray.
Thud!
"Urk..."
I hit the ground again with a sharp grunt.
*Whistle! Beep!*
"Cut it out. One more and it's a red."
Finally, at the 50-minute mark counting both halves, the ref pulled out a yellow for Lee Youngik.
I kept getting owned by him, so Coach yanked me at halftime.
Of course, I know the answer. If I shoved back with my strength, even Lee Youngik would go flying.
But the problem is, inside this body of Olmunt, I'm Yoon Jongmun. If I were really Olmunt, those fouls wouldn't hurt—I could shrug them off. But as the broken Yoon Jongmun, I can't overcome it easily.
The game rolled on without me, and Gimpo slumped to a listless 3-0 loss.
After that, Gimpo didn't win a single match through the end of the second round-robin. One draw and two losses against Bucheon, Incheon, and Busan dropped us to third, behind Incheon and Suwon.
"We've ridden your coattails long enough. Time for us to step up. Pull yourself together."
Coach patted my shoulder—unusually gentle for him—but I know the truth. We lost because of me.
The worst part of a slump is everyone tiptoeing around you. I miss Heemun and Minsu snarking at me.
"Hyungnim, you got this. Teach me like before! Curse the other team with your—"
Heemun dragged Minsu off before he could finish. Though now that I think about it, maybe I don't miss them that much.
Sigh...
I've never even smoked, but damn, I crave a cigarette.
Until now—maybe because of my physicality—most players avoided direct challenges. They knew it'd be a power struggle they'd lose, so they marked me from mid-range or cut off the ball entirely.
The problem started after Suwon. My weak mentality got exposed.
I'm no longer the guy they fear bumping into. When they come at me dirty and aggressive, I turn back into the helpless player who can't do a thing.
To save me, Coach tried me as a winger, an attacking mid—anywhere without pressure. But once the counters got figured out, I couldn't unleash my old destructive force.
Hell, I feel like I've regressed further than my Yoon Jongmun days. Back then, I had that raw survival instinct. Now...
I don't know. What if I fail again?
Every time I go down, it feels like Lee Youngik's yelling, "I'll crush you like Yoon Jongmun again."
Have my steps out of training ever felt this heavy?
I pulled out my phone to text Dosik for help, then shut it off.
I'd just hear the same things from my Yoon Jongmun days. And I'm scared of failing.
**
"Ugh, that idiot."
Dosik let out a heavy sigh at the sight of Olmunt's slumped back as he trudged home depressed.
Seeing those massive shoulders drooped low filled Dosik with an inexplicable sadness. He hurried away.
He couldn't get caught, and he had someone to meet without Olmunt knowing.
Sigh...
Hidden where the training ground entrance was out of sight, Dosik anxiously watched the door.
5 minutes... 10... 15. His target still hadn't appeared. Maybe he skipped training due to injury? Just as doubt crept in,
his mark showed up right in front of him.
"Yaaawn~"
The moment his target yawned wide, Dosik bolted out before the mouth could close.
"Hello."
"Gah!"
Kim Donghan nearly toppled backward in shock mid-yawn.
Yes. The key to Dosik's last trick bag was Kim Donghan. And the one to help him...
"What the hell are you doing?"
was Yoo Dojin, eyeing him like a shady salesman.
Before Kim Donghan could join in, Dosik whipped out his business card for both.
"Hello. I'm Kang Dosik, Leo Olmunt's personal trainer."
"Personal trainer?"
"How do we know that's legit? And what brings Olmunt's trainer here?"
Dosik showed Yoo Dojin, still skeptical, a photo of Olmunt on his phone.
"Look. This is my place. And there's Olmunt, right there?"
"Whoa, this is real."
"Why would Olmunt come to my house if I wasn't his trainer?"
"Damn, that's the effort it takes to shed your old skin. So, what do you want with us?"
"I need your help for Olmunt."
And with that, Dosik herded the still-confused pair straight into a café.
"Thanks for helping."
"Haven't agreed to help yet."
"You wouldn't have come if you weren't gonna."
Dosik shrugged off Yoo Dojin's suspicious glare, pulled a tablet from his bag, and laid it out.
"Olmunt's stats from his last eight games. Two goals, eleven assists."
"Still a monster."
"Right? But the first four games: two goals, ten assists. The last four: just one assist. Textbook slump."
"Does it have to be a slump? Strikers have dry spells sometimes, right, hyung?"
Kim Donghan, half-agreeing inwardly, startled and stammered,
"Uh... yeah? Shots go in hot sometimes, cold others."
"Fair point. But Olmunt isn't just a goal poacher. All his strong stats tanked. Final-third passes, dribble success, duel wins—everything's in the gutter. Definite slump."
Yoo Dojin and Kim Donghan stared at the tablet, faces grim, silent.
"Sigh... Yeah, makes sense. He's been rushing his plays. So, you got a fix? That's why you called us?"
Dosik swallowed hard at Kim Donghan's eerie tone and pressed on.
"You all know the cause: poor handling of tough physical play. Looks like fear or trauma—psychological. Gotta break it."
"How?"
"Hit him with a sliding tackle from behind."
"You..."
Dosik calmed Yoo Dojin, who surged up furious, and asked in a low voice,
"Can you take responsibility?"
"Huh?"
"For what you just said."
Dosik felt why they called him Seoul's Mad Dog. But he couldn't back out now.
"Relax. Not to injure him. Show his body is tough. Even your full-force tackle won't hurt Olmunt. You guys train with him—you know better than me."
Kim Donghan's face softened, though pride stung a bit.
"So, hit him hard once. The fouls on him aren't that bad, but psychologically, he's folding easy. Next training's perfect."
Silence blanketed the table. No one spoke first. They couldn't.
Yoo Dojin. Kim Donghan. They got it—intellectually. But sliding into a beloved junior teammate?
After an agonizing pause, talk resumed.
"So Donghan-hyung does the slide. Why me?"
"You'd block it most."
As Yoo Dojin simmered, Kim Donghan choked back laughter.
"Pfft. Kh. Yeah, let's try. But no studs up, right?"
Dosik regretted spilling the plan at that chilling glare. But the water was spilled.
He just hoped Olmunt wouldn't turn out like that guy. Under the table, Dosik's fist clenched unbidden.