Shocking Mixed Zone Interviews: 50 Million Bandwagon Fans Explode
Reporters swarmed the mixed zone* like hyenas after the match.
*Mixed zone: the joint interview area.
There were plenty of heroes today. But the Chosun reporter pricks weren't interested in the performance.
"Ryu Rion! That 'shush' celebration after your first goal—does it have special meaning? Some are saying it's a protest against the discord rumors?"
"What do you think about subbing off Mo Chanhee early?"
"Is it true there was shouting in the locker room?"
Of course.
Soccer takes a backseat to gossip with these fuckers.
Dozens of mics shoved in my face.
I stared straight into the camera lenses.
Locking eyes with the 50 Million Bandwagon Fans boiling like pots on the other side.
"Meaning? Nothing special."
I opened my mouth flatly.
"Just 'shut the fuck up and watch.'"
"Pardon...? Sh-shut up?"
The reporter stammered in shock, but I didn't stop.
"Soccer isn't played with your mouth. Hiding behind the internet, shaking players, boiling over then cooling off like pots. Aren't you sick of it?"
The scene went dead quiet, like someone dumped ice water on it.
No national team player had ever done an interview like this. Especially not some crazy bastard mouthing off against Korean sensibilities in Korea.
I said it with conviction.
"Hate me, hate the coach, I don't give a shit. But the facts are on the pitch. What we showed today is the answer."
I grinned and dropped the final bomb.
"From now on, big mouths get weeded out, and only those who prove it survive. If that pisses you off..."
I crooked my finger at the camera.
"Come play yourself."
I walked out of the mixed zone, leaving the stunned reporters behind.
Flashes exploded like crazy at my back.
Korea would flip its shit starting tomorrow.
Didn't matter.
Hate me or cheer, they wouldn't be able to look away from my toes now.
The board was already flipped. What should've been standard post-match chit-chat turned into this thanks to the disgusting reporter questions. Good call changing the game.
Korea's soccer problems are tangled in all sorts of bullshit like this.
Interim coach Baek Ho-dol also faced the press in the mixed zone. More reporters mobbed him than me. Makes sense—Mo Chanhee's halftime sub.
"Why sub off Mo Chanhee?"
"Mo Chanhee's a Korean superstar; his presence alone pressures Singapore..."
"The public view is that generational change is too rushed..."
"Veteran players unhappy with Baek Ho-dol..."
"Discord rumors between Mo Chanhee and the Spanish overseas player..."
"Excluding a superstar goes against public opinion..."
"Interim coach overstepping..."
"Mo Chanhee kicked a water bottle—is that aimed at the coach...?"
Baek Ho-dol stayed silent through the barrage. Most questions boiled down to Mo Chanhee, Korea's top star, cheered by 60,000 fans today. Natural.
As the noisy zone fell silent, Baek Ho-dol spoke.
"First off, no injury worries."
Reporters pounced.
"So a disciplinary sub? Too harsh on the team's star—criticism is inevitable."
"Subbing Korea's superstar at halftime against weak Singapore? No Korean coach has done that—too reckless?"
Baek Ho-dol's eyes twitched ever so slightly at the follow-up.
"Harsh?"
He crossed his arms, lecturing like in the locker room.
"Reporters, know our possession in the first 30 minutes? 70-30. Good numbers, but no early goal against underdogs means jack shit."
Baek Ho-dol traced an imaginary pitch in the air.
"Mo Chanhee excites the crowd every touch—fancy dribbles, turns, phantom moves... All good. But Singapore triple-teamed him. What then? Spray the ball to open space in one second."
His gaze sharpened.
"But Chanhee took a fourth touch. Those two seconds' delay—our fullbacks overlap and get stranded, their defense resets. While Chanhee dazzles past two, our tempo clogs like arterial sclerosis."
"But... couldn't Mo Chanhee's skill create chances?"
"Soccer isn't a highlight reel show."
Baek Ho-dol cut in firmly.
"No ace devours tempo over the team. I'm an orchestra conductor, not an audience for solo violin solos."
The crowd murmured. No one expected such a direct hit on the star.
Baek Ho-dol continued unfazed.
"Subbing in a high-work-rate rookie opened our veins. Result: two second-half goals. My choice was tactical, proven by results. Chanhee kicked a water bottle from the bench?"
He turned toward the exit, dropping his last line.
"Doesn't matter if that anger's at me or himself. Just hope next match, he channels it to passing, not just holding the ball."
He strode out without looking back. Amid the buzzing reporters, Baek Ho-dol's back looked like a silent, solid mountain.
Whatever tomorrow's headlines, tonight's win belonged to the hardworking Korean players and Baek Ho-dol, who bet his body against the 50 Million Bandwagon Fans.
Articles and reporters went apeshit like the Korean War, pumping out breaking news non-stop.
- Humiliating 43rd-minute sub... Mo Chanhee kicks water bottle in rage from bench
- Baek Ho-dol ditches 'dead possession,' goes pragmatic—proves it with two second-half goals
The communities were chaos too. Hot potato for the 50 Million Bandwagon Fans.
Baek Ho-dol's interview, my interview as the Spanish starter overseas pro, Mo Chanhee's antics—drips and memes everywhere. Pro-Baek Ho-dol sentiment, including me, clashed head-on with hostile Mo Chanhee fandom.