Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: The Goal is Survival (5)
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Not only Neil Burdick was borrowing tactics from Mad Dog.
"Still no response?"
Liverpool's assistant coach—and the genius reuniting with Jürgen Klopp—Zeljko Buvac asked.
At the question, a coach sitting on the sofa in one corner of the office, sorting through documents, made a troubled face.
"Yes. I sent messages from other accounts too... but no read receipts."
World Management had a messaging system.
And three months ago, one of Liverpool's coaches borrowed a tactic from Mad Dog.
Klopp thought it was spot on and put it to use, reeling off four straight wins.
Unlike Neil Burdick, the Liverpool coach who borrowed the tactic immediately announced it was from an internet tactician.
Of course, Zeljko Buvac, known as the master of tactics, didn't buy it easily.
"Hard to believe."
Even now, he was logged into the World Management site, scrolling through the tactics uploaded by Mad Dog, shaking his head.
The site's main customers were amateur coaches.
Including a good number of youth coaches.
"To think tactics like this are floating around on a site like this."
Even in Zeljko Buvac's eyes, they weren't something to just laugh off.
They were more organized, flashy, and powerful than anything else.
"From overload to isolation like Fab's, focusing on counter-switches, with the main position shifting to side half as wing-back, wingers underlapping then penetrating into the box... and even Murderball mixed in. And it's executed perfectly."
Above all, Mad Dog's tactics offered the perfect approach depending on the opponent.
They even included detailed instructions down to the individual player.
In conclusion, Mad Dog's tactics were like gears.
Interlocking with each other, making everything move endlessly and organically.
That's why Buvac persuaded Klopp and sent a message to the account presumed to be Korean, Mad Dog.
Hoping to meet and talk at least.
[This is Zeljko Buvac, assistant coach working in Liverpool, England.]
...or so.
He even personally used a Korean translator to write it in Korean.
That was already a few months ago.
Back then, a reply came right away.
[Yeah, fuck off. If you're Buvac, then I'm Alex Ferguson.]
"Hmm..."
Buvac let out a short groan as he checked the message from months ago again.
The other side clearly didn't believe he was the real Buvac.
Still, not one to give up easily, Buvac sent a few more messages.
But the replies were similar to the first.
[Don't you have anything better to do?]
[Spam me one more time and you're dead meat, bro.]
[You little shit, where do you live? Terminal delusion patient? Keep yapping about Buvac and I'll shove my fist up your ass? Like Buvac has nothing better to do than message amateurs on some site, you dumb fuck!]
"..."
He only got a barrage of abuse.
And blocked at the end.
Now he was messaging from alternate accounts.
Suddenly, Buvac's face turned worried.
"What if another club already scouted him."
Having seen Mad Dog's tactics with his own eyes and tested them in real matches, it was entirely possible.
Just the fact that no new tactics had been uploaded in nearly a month...
Buvac stroked his chin gravely.
"He really got a job, huh."
Maybe he was already in the EPL somewhere.
A tactician of that caliber was surely at a high level.
Buvac murmured softly.
"Clubs on the scale of Chelsea, Man City, Man United, Arsenal..."
At least in an important role.
* * *
The next day, Jeong-woo visited the local radio station.
The station ran channels for Horwich and the Bolton borough.
The radio DJ greeted Jeong-woo personally.
"Nice to meet you, DJ Aaron Bench here. So you never even dreamed of being a soccer player. Afraid you'd just be sitting on the bench like your name."
"..."
"Just kidding."
"Yeah, so I gave a little smile."
Jeong-woo simply shook the DJ's outstretched hand lightly.
After taking his seat in the booth, Jeong-woo got briefed on the simple procedure from the PD.
During the brief lull, he exchanged light greetings with the staff in the control room beyond the booth.
But the reactions were lukewarm.
"Ah, yeah."
"Yes, please take care of me."
They all seemed to be greeting him reluctantly.
The reason was obvious.
They were Wanderers fans dissatisfied with Bolton's finances and performance.
Jeong-woo figured this was just part of what he had to endure.
About ten minutes later, the broadcast started on the PD's standby cue.
After his opening line, DJ Aaron Bench glanced at Jeong-woo beside hiMad Dog continued in an amused tone.
"We have a special guest today. None other than Bolton's current owner, Mr. Jeong-woo Ma! It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Ma. Or should I say, Chairman."
"Nice to meet you too, Bench. I'm Jeong-woo Ma, owner of Bolton?"
Aaron Bench's face fell a bit as he posed the real question.
A scene you wouldn't see in Korea.
An owner appearing on radio to chat with citizens about the local soccer club?
But in England, it happened.
Because most citizens saw soccer as part of life.
Aaron Bench looked curious too.
The staff beyond the booth stared straight through at Jeong-woo.
Intensely enough to feel burdensome.
'They're burning holes in my face, these guys.'
Soon, Jeong-woo straightened his back and opened his mouth.
"As you know, Bolton's current situation is dire. And I know a good number of fans have questions about my plans."
He had several reasons for appearing on the radio.
First was to promote the random events he'd implement soon, and other events.
Most importantly, to win back the lost fan hearts.
Jeong-woo knew nothing beat radio and TV appearances for image rehab.
Wasn't that what Korean politicians did themselves?
He planned to make full use of it.
"Yes, exactly. That's the top question I'd ask if I met you, Chairman. Why, just why did you decide to sell players? Six of them, core players active at Bolton. Owen Doyle among them fought alongside the team for several seasons."
He put extra emphasis on "fought."
Jeong-woo shot back immediately.
"I know. How great and beautiful their dedication was. But that's just the past. Honestly, I don't even find it that beautiful personally."
"Some fans won't accept that."
Bench didn't seem to either.
Jeong-woo didn't care.
"Some cling obsessively to vague notions. Like, Owen Doyle dedicated himself to Bolton for several seasons, so ah, he's our symbolic player. And they hold on tight. But Owen's at a crossroads for retirement now. Mid-thirties. His skills and stamina have naturally declined."
"But..."
Before Bench could interject, Jeong-woo cut in.
"In the league, he played over 20 games but managed only 3 goals. I'm not blaming the player. Overall, the team's mired in slump. As a goalscorer with sporadic teammate support, it's like wandering a desert. Reality is harsher."
Jeong-woo spoke fluently.
"So I planned to let some cores go. Of course, stats show rebuilding by selling cores usually leads to dismal results. Losing cores often tanks revenue too. Jersey sales hit first, then a vicious cycle with performance drop."
Jeong-woo gestured wildly, contorting his expressions, unleashing a torrent of words. He even rolled his head a few times.
Careful with word choice.
Or his usual crude language would slip out.
"Selling clubs or lower-table sides often end up like this, handing cores to top clubs. But Bolton's already at rock bottom. Change is urgent. And that 'core' concept you emphasize... it's just past obsession. Cling to it to the end... and relegation awaits."
Jeong-woo was determined to stand firm, even if criticized.
True Wanderers couldn't dodge uncomfortable truths.
"Let me say it straight. All six on the release list contributed nothing to the team this season."
It scratched Wanderers' pride, but it was fact.
By now, the staff beyond the booth, including Bench, were focused on Jeong-woo.
"As I've said many times, reality is merciless. Bolton fell to 24th after losses up to round 27."
He went on, reciting individual and team stats like a sermon.
"You think it's right to keep using a forward with 3 goals in 27 league rounds just because he's 'symbolic'?"
"Is change only about investing big money?"
"Sometimes you have to boldly cut out the rotten parts. Of course, prepare thoroughly for the new revolution in the process."
Jeong-woo slammed his clenched fist on the table with a thud! and raised his voice.
"I'm grateful for their dedication to Bolton. But some ties must be cut. I'm the owner. I have to prioritize results. But I won't push results on you all."
Now the staff beyond the booth were completely captivated by Jeong-woo's eloquence.
One who had ignored him earlier muttered in admiration.
"Guy speaks like a pro..."
As the words suggested, Jeong-woo poured out speech after speech.
The heat radiating from him warmed the booth—no, set it ablaze.
After a while, with an earnest expression, Jeong-woo said.
"What I want to say is this. Dear Wanderers, please wait just a bit. Believe steadfastly. This season, I'll pour everything into survival. That's my first goal."
Jeong-woo stared piercingly through the glass wall at the staff, eyes burning, and added.
"The shit-talk is mine, but victory's glory is yours alone. So watch. I'll prove it."
He didn't forget the final punch.
"Huge changes are coming soon."
Have a great day~
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