They Only See the World in Black and White: Why I'm Joining Man City
They only try to see the world in black and white. That's the reason I'm transferring to Manchester City.
Holland. Hello again. Once you strip away the preconceptions and look at it precisely. Yi Chorong's ball was already loose. The ball had left his foot, and Lee Jinhak had cleanly won it with a sliding tackle. Then Yi Chorong barreled straight in. Objectively, that's dangerous play. It was Yi Chorong who violated the spirit of the game.
Lee Jinhak got pissed and shoved him. That's where Lee Jinhak fucked up. No matter how angry you are, shoving someone is wrong. Afterward, Yi Chorong flailed his arms dramatically, acting all aggrieved. From Lee Jinhak's perspective, that must've been fucking ridiculous. This is all just breaking down right and wrong, but in actual football, we don't nitpick like communities or the public do. It's not like we grab shirts during a game, throw a tantrum, and debate if it's wrong or not.
It's just the usual scuffle you see in football. When I clashed with Rüdiger, I didn't sit there logically debating fault. Touches built up during the match, tempers flared, and shit exploded. The ref breaks it up. Of course, if you analyze it, Rüdiger started it.
In short: Yi Chorong recklessly stuck his foot into Lee Jinhak, who was already on the ground after the tackle, pissing him off. Lee Jinhak grabbed him by the scruff and shoved. And Lee Jinhak apologized to Yi Chorong right after the game. In a later interview, he explained the whole thing to a reporter and admitted it was ultimately his fault.
Where the fuck does this look like boomer bullshit? Where's the senior-junior hierarchy crap? Where's the slapping? Where does this justify stirring up shit about Confucianism or toxic military culture? The 50 Million Bandwagon Fans believe whatever they want and see whatever fits their narrative. They're still raging at that edited clip. Even if someone speaks the truth, they treat them like a heretic. "So Lee Jinhak did nothing wrong?"—diluting the point with whataboutism.
It's not that he did nothing wrong; it's that explaining the full context muddies their narrative. This Lee Jinhak-Yi Chorong incident blew up because of a certain meme. It uses the wording "slapped." We need to be wary of star players. Don't let their poster-boy image blind you to objectivity. Be wary of the media too. And YouTubers. Nothing's trustworthy.
At least this incident should've been brushed off as a common football tussle. But the "slap" wording, combined with commentators' senior-junior remarks, turned it into a boomer scandal unrelated to football. All while the bandwagon fans habitually rage without seeking truth.
If someone framed my near-fight with Rüdiger not as football but racism? Rüdiger would've claimed I discriminated against Black people; I'd counter it was anti-Asian. A simple on-pitch spat becomes racism or boomer drama once framed that way. Truth is boring; juicy frames are stimulating, so the outrage never dies once ignited. The pots are already boiling.
As my thoughts reached that point, Baek Ho-dol murmured, lost in recollection.
"The truth isn't like that, though."
Even after watching the bandwagon fans, he wanted to whine about ignored truth? Seeing a colleague scapegoated by the public must've left him conflicted.
"Do the public even care about that?"
Baek Ho-dol fell silent for a moment. His memory seemed fuzzy, so I pulled out my phone and showed him the real-time best post on Korea's biggest football community.
"Coach, search 'Lee Jinhak' online right now. What comes up? 'Boomer who slapped his junior,' 'Confucian football's poster boy'... Nothing but mockery and disdain. A fragmented 20-year-old clip is shredding his life."
"This is the public mood right now. No one bothers opening their eyes to the truth. They just use it as fodder for community circlejerks. Speak truth, and you're a shield-puller or off-topic derailer because it doesn't fit the vibe or timing. To them, truth isn't something to investigate or reconsider—it's secondary to not killing the rage high."
Baek Ho-dol opened his mouth bitterly. "...I was there that day too. But the public only sees what they want."
"They're exploiting football scuffles to demonize someone. They wove a nonexistent slap into a boomer scandal. We both know it's not the vicious incident the mob claims."
I downed the now-cold booze, my mood matching it.
"The public's still buried in 20-year-old fake news, butchering the real heart of Lee Jinhak, who's acting head of the national committee. Someone's gotta cool those pots. I'll do it."
Baek Ho-dol looked puzzled. "Why would you? You owe him or something?"
I tilted my bottle toward him.
"Coach, remember the 2008 mad cow disease panic? Everyone hit the streets with candles claiming U.S. beef causes brain holes. Looking back now? The agitators vanished, truth-tellers got scarred, and the public washed their mouths with 'whatever.'"
I refilled his glass and poured myself another shot of Dotsai 23. It's not debt or connections or justice boner. To prevent Korean football's collapse, I need to chill that collective madness first. Like stripping rice down to 77% pure essence, peel away the lies crusting this football scene, and only then will people see football as football, players as players.
For that, I'll exploit the bandwagon fans' servility to fame, borrow celebrity clout to lob bombs at the masses, wield big-club prestige and symbols to bury them. Starting a truth community? No one cares. But a star—especially a poster boy from a big club—speaking out? Even illogical, the weight hits different. Communities erupt, headlines plaster front pages, reporters chase scraps, the nation watches my mouth, my moves.
Is it for truth-spreading zeal? Or just my fame? Obvious answer. The public needs villains to chew, loves black-and-white propaganda over bland facts—they crave stimulating rumors. I added,
"Those community pots shitting on Lee Jinhak barely know who he is. They just pile on because others do, hammering keyboards as 'woke citizens' smashing boomer culture off a circulating slap meme. That's the essence of the 50 Million Bandwagon Fans' character assassination."
Baek Ho-dol sat motionless till I finished.
"They don't need logical truth—a celeb's word suffices. Reporters turn it to clickbait, fans chatter in communities, it snowballs to reinvestigation, truth surfaces naturally."
I drove the final nail. "Lee Jinhak's 'slap' is an illusion. The real slap we deserve is our laziness ignoring truth for outrage, and this cowardly public's unchanged gaze after 20 years."
Baek Ho-dol nodded, locked eyes, and raised his glass.
"Man City, right? Become the world's best, and those public pots will grovel at your feet like it never happened. That's this nation's bandwagon herd. I'll root for you."
Baek Ho-dol nailed it. Get more famous, authority follows, words weigh heavier, pots boil over. Just play well at a big club. I'm no justice crusader or fake altruist itching to help. In my eyes, most are bland shells swept by the mob, sans personal will. In their cowardly shit-talk, is there even one line of true conviction?
I despise not their malice, but the pathetic herd mentality hiding behind others' voices. Don't cower spinelessly. Better a sharp personal malice—speak boldly from your own subjectivity. This isn't noble purification; it's my pathological obsession blocking brainless noise. Not because I'm good, but arrogant. Thoughtless humans are just static to me.
Lee Jinhak returned to Korea and met Yoon Seungwoo face-to-face.