Chapter 600: Soccer(4)
Chapter 600: Soccer(4)
I received Cecile's help in establishing the soccer field. I had intended to ask Arwen for help as well, but she declined, citing her busy schedule.
Unlike Cecile, Arwen was responsible for governing an entire nation, so I simply nodded and let it go.
In return—if you could call it that—she mentioned she would be visiting soon with a grand "gift." I wasn't sure what it was, but a gift is a gift, so I planned to accept it gladly.
Thus, with Cecile's assistance, I accelerated the construction of the soccer field. First came the dimensions.
For this, I relied on Mora's help. It had been so long since I'd seen a pitch that I couldn't quite recall the exact measurements.
Marking the lines wasn't an issue either. Using magic to observe from the sky made the task simple.
The construction itself faced no major hurdles. When I offered beer to the dwarves residing in the territory, they agreed to help immediately.
As for the paint for the lines, I just had to buy it in bulk. It was a bit expensive, but it wasn't a problem.
Since the spectators might get hit by the ball, I should set the stands back a bit...
Even though mana usage was prohibited, many people here possessed solid physical foundations.
In the first place, this was a world where mechanical civilization hadn't developed, meaning everything had to be done with manual labor.
Even those with a bit of age on them had rugged, muscular limbs. Their stamina was so impressive that you'd never take them for "old men."
It's modern people who have pathetic stamina; one must never underestimate the Middle Ages. This was a place where the weak could not survive, and only the strong remained.
"I've prepared clothes to distinguish the players. One team will wear red, and the other will wear blue. The goalkeepers don't need to wear them."
"Why don't the goalkeepers wear them?"
"To prevent anyone who isn't a goalkeeper from secretly using their hands. Have you all read the rules?"
Since the field was finished quickly, all that remained was teaching the rules. Since the teams were already divided, I didn't even need to seek them out individually.
Futsal is hard enough, but soccer has even more complex rules. The residents tilted their heads in confusion as they looked over the manuals I had distributed.
The fact that the pitch was insanely large was breathtaking enough, but the rules only added to the pressure.
"Offside? Does anyone know what this means?"
"I think it means you're declared offside if you're behind the defenders?"
"Aha. I get it. Without this, one person could just stand in front of the goal the whole time. It's probably to prevent that, right?"
Though the rules were unfamiliar, they learned them steadily. Many people think medieval folk are stupid, but that's not the case at all.
They simply lack basic technology and many are uneducated; their actual intelligence isn't low by any means.
Furthermore, the Minerva Empire was implementing public education to prevent illiteracy. The Xenon Biography was a bonus factor in that.
"If you've familiarized yourselves with the rules, devise your tactics and come back here in three days. Any questions?"
"Did you create all of this yourself, Young Master?"
"For the most part."
I didn't lie. When I shrugged and gave an ambiguous answer, the residents' eyes filled with respect and anticipation.
It seemed they thought I was personally creating entertainment for them, which made my conscience prickle... actually, no, it didn't.
I really was bringing sports from my past life for their entertainment. It was a win-win situation.
"You don't need to worry about the Order, either. This match is being held within a regulated arena. Just relax and enjoy yourselves."
"Thank you!"
"We'll work even harder for the territory from now on!"
I left with a beaming smile. Behind me, I could hear the residents already discussing their tactics.
Afterward, I posted a notice on the board in the plaza and departed. I didn't forget to have someone distribute the rulebooks.
The territory was already swept up in a soccer craze, but that was just futsal, not real soccer. This time, I intended to show the residents the real deal.
I was making thorough preparations for it, so I was looking forward to it myself. However, there was a slight sense of unease since it felt a bit rushed.
"...You're saying it's better to use what prisoners use instead of mana detection tools?"
"Yeah. There are shackles that prisoners wear. If we use those, they won't be able to use mana, so it'll be better."
"I suppose that could work..."
Using prisoner shackles because mana usage was forbidden.
"It's been a while, Lord Isaac. It's been months since I last saw your face."
"...Is it really okay to bring Mr. Gartz to a place like this?"
"Sir Balak volunteered. The other one will probably be watching from above."
Hiring Gartz as an assistant referee while another Reaper member watched from the sky.
"......Father. Isn't this a war horn?"
"I brought it from the army. It'll be useful since it'll be noisy everywhere. It's enchanted, so the sound will vary depending on how hard you blow."
"......"
Using a war horn because whistles hadn't been invented yet, and so on.
In many ways, they were tools that felt very "fantasy." Still, there shouldn't be any major issues in running the match.
As preparations proceeded smoothly, time flew by, and the scheduled day arrived.
Since it was a sweltering summer, the match was held before dinner. The sun set late anyway, and it was the time when people were starting to wrap up their work.
"When does it start?"
"I heard it starts at 5 PM. The total time is about an hour and thirty to an hour and forty minutes."
"We can watch this and then go eat."
Perhaps because futsal had been so popular, the spectator stands were full even before the start.
Residents who couldn't get into the stands had no choice but to stand nearby and watch. I also deployed the security force and priests just in case.
When I called the Order for the purpose of preventing injuries, they accepted readily. I thought they might be reluctant since it was a ball game, but it was surprisingly otherwise.
At any rate, all preparations were complete. I glanced at the tall clock and then looked around at each team.
As I mentioned before, the teams consisted of the original residents and the new settlers.
"The match will begin shortly! Everyone, get ready!"
As I shouted loudly, the players who had been warming up began to take their positions. The spectators also fell silent in an instant upon hearing my shout.
Not that they really needed to be quiet. Soon, the settler team started with the kickoff. In front of them, the original resident team stood with tense faces.
After asking both teams for fair play, I looked at Gartz, whom I had hired as the assistant referee.
As soon as Gartz made eye contact with me, he nodded to signal that he was ready.
Now, everything was set. I scanned each team, then put the war horn to my lips. And then...
Bwaaaaaaaap!
As I let out a long, deep breath, the sound of the war horn echoed far and wide. With the settler team's kickoff, the world's first soccer match commenced.
"Waaaaaaaah!!"
As the match began, thunderous cheering erupted from the stands.
It proved that people are the same everywhere; even if the eras are different, entertainment translates.
Furthermore, because the structure itself gave off a vibe similar to the Colosseum, it provided tension for the players and excitement for the spectators.
I shouldn't expect a high-level match, though.
It had only been a little over two weeks. Even if they had enjoyed futsal, it would be far from enough time to hone their skills.
Even now, most of the players were struggling with dribbling. However, the novelty of this entertainment in the Middle Ages overshadowed all of that.
Above all, it was a first for both the players and the spectators. They didn't know if what a person was doing was good or bad.
Except for one single goal.
Thwack!
Less than ten minutes in, the original resident team stole the ball from the settlers and scored.
The striker who scored spread his arms wide, expressing his joy to his heart's content. Then, he ran toward the spectators.
I wasn't sure if it was instinct or just how things turned out, but he had performed a celebration. It was likely the world's first soccer celebration.
[Jays! Jays! Jays! Jays!]
It seemed the scorer's name was Jays. Since it was called Jays' Team, he must be the captain.
Jays, who exuded a certain charm despite being middle-aged, returned to the pitch with a thick smile and a swagger.
The thrill of scoring a goal. A thrill different from futsal. And finally, the cheers of the crowd supporting him.
Right now, he probably felt like a gladiator in the Colosseum—the protagonist of Rome's most famous entertainment.
Bwaaaaap!
But the match wasn't over yet. As the ball returned to the center, I blew the war horn vigorously.
The settler team became more cautious after conceding a goal, while the original resident team, their spirits lifted, ran even wilder to score another.
The result of that became apparent before long. In their excitement, the players in the defensive zone had pushed too far forward.
Boom!
A powerful long-range shot was unleashed the moment a gap appeared. Having struck the ball perfectly with his laces, the ball flew in a straight line before suddenly dipping.
...Was that a no-spin shot?
Regardless, the ball went straight into the net. The goalkeeper dove to block it, but it was futile.
The player who scored the equalizer, seemingly consumed by excitement, began to roam the ground while letting out a roar.
The spectators responded with fitting cheers. On the other hand, the supporters of the original resident team fell silent.
With this, it was a draw. From then on, the match became more intense, beginning to truly show what kind of sport soccer was.
"It's offside."
"No, why? I clearly saw him go in!"
"The assistant referee's judgment is that the shoulder was ahead. The assistant referee watching from above confirmed it as well."
"Aw, damn it..."
The interesting part was the offside rule. The players were trying to understand the rule perfectly and break through it.
They couldn't even complain about the judgment because there was an assistant referee watching from the sky like a satellite, allowing for more accurate calls.
Was it a waste to use such high-level personnel for something like this? Not at all. They were the ones who volunteered, so I was grateful.
I thought it would be a battle of superhumans, but I guess not.
The match proceeded smoothly. Since I was the son of the Lord, no one complained about the officiating, and there were few fouls.
The same went for the shots. I expected shots that looked like they came out of a manga, but that wasn't the case.
I had taken measures to prevent the use of mana, and those running now were middle-aged men.
In terms of my past life, they were muscular men tempered by harsh labor.
In particular, the butcher from the original resident team was putting on an incredible performance.
He's breaking through everything like a tank.
Perhaps because of that, some players protested, asking if it was a foul. I simply dismissed it as fair physical contact.
Tweet!
"That's a foul. Your name?"
"...It's Max."
"Consider this a warning. If you get another, you're sent off."
Still, I showed no mercy for fouls. I wrote the name of the player who committed the foul in my notebook.
Since today was the first match, I was being extra strict. After all, you have to start off on the right foot.
Afterward, it was a repetition of blocking, striking, blocking, striking, and scoring. Since no one knew when or where a goal might burst forth, the spectators couldn't relax.
Tweet! Tweet! Tweeeeet!
When the added time ended, I blew the war horn in short, sharp bursts. A sound similar to a whistle echoed throughout the stadium.
The result was 3 to 2. It was a victory for the original resident team, and it would have been a draw if not for that last offside.
"Oof..."
"This is harder than I thought..."
"Huff... huff..."
As the match ended, the players sat or lay down on the ground, their stamina clearly depleted.
Even though they were strong men, they had run like their lives depended on it without a second thought, so exhaustion was inevitable.
I told them they did a good job and looked around the stands. The spectators applauded the back-and-forth slugfest and offered their respective cheers.
Cheers of "well done" for the winning original resident team. Words of comfort for the defeated settler team, telling them they could do better next time.
The reactions were different, but they shared one thing in common: both groups were looking forward to the next match.
It's quite a success.
Soccer, which started in our territory, would establish itself as a sport everyone could enjoy—just like on Earth.
It would take a long time to become commercialized, but that didn't matter. As I said, the first step was the most important.
I quietly slipped away, hoping they had enjoyed themselves.
From now on, the residents would be able to enjoy soccer among themselves. I would just need to step in and mediate occasionally.
They might fight over using the field, so I should set a schedule, right?
But there was one thing I overlooked.
"...What is this?"
"The residents submitted these suggestions to you. They're asking if they can increase the number of teams."
"I don't mind increasing them, but why bring this to me specifically..."
Medieval people were "dead serious" about entertainment. Only a day had passed since I introduced soccer, and requests to form teams were already flooding in.
Honestly, forming teams wasn't an issue. They could just enjoy it among themselves like a local Sunday league.
My father, seeing my expression mixed with bewilderment and confusion, spoke quietly.
"They probably want you to set the order. It'll be better for you to coordinate rather than having them fight among themselves."
"If that's the case, I'll gladly do it. Hmm..."
I received the list of teams from my father. It seemed that not only the neighborhood men but also young people had joined, as soccer had left quite an impression.
Since it wasn't something only a specific class could enjoy, but rather something for all ages and genders, the number of teams seemed to have grown significantly.
Instead, like in my past life, it was heavily populated by men. I suppose the women couldn't help it since they had housework to do.
But did they give permission for all of them? That's surprising.
I mindlessly stamped the documents, granting permission for the team formations. I also coordinated the schedule myself.
A few more days passed after that...
"Isaac. The ladies of the territory sent you gifts."
I received gifts from my mother. I received various gifts from the women of the territory—specifically, the wives.
Usually, my mother is close with the wives of the territory, so she receives such gifts often, but today, the gifts were for me.
I was bewildered, not understanding the reason at all.
"Suddenly? Why?"
"I heard their husbands are building up their stamina to play soccer. They thanked me, saying they're very satisfied because of that. Even though I didn't actually do anything."
"......"
No wonder the gifts were all things good for "stamina." Unintentionally, I seemed to have multiplied the happiness of the territory.
...Should I make a league while I'm at it?
Even while I was having such thoughts, the fame of soccer was gradually spreading.
[Soccer, a new ball game appearing in the Maishal Territory. Hands and arms can never be used, and goals must be scored only with feet or head...]
[A ball game once forbidden by the Order. However, soccer is possible because it does not conflict with any of the Order's justifications!]
[Countless people flock to see soccer... The number of tourists in the Maishal Territory is gradually increasing.]
The Maishal Territory was gradually flourishing.
[The Manhattan Project, which has begun to be mentioned in the United States. What does this project mean?]
And the Divine Punishment was gradually beginning to reveal itself.