The Nightmare of Denmark

Denmark? Some people might figure that if they aren't Brazil, Korea should walk all over them. Denmark, though, is not a side anyone can afford to write off.

In truth, they rank among the hidden heavyweights of European football. They don't field a roster stacked with global superstars the way Brazil does, but Denmark's real quality lives somewhere else entirely: in their granite teamwork and their superb organization.

Rather than leaning on individual brilliance, they solve matches as a single moving organism, and that style has a habit of leaving opponents bewildered. They also sit comfortably inside FIFA's top ten on a consistent basis. Against Korea's current squad, they were not a team to take lightly.

That teamwork didn't stop with the players. It burned just as brightly among the fans. Estadio Olímpico de Madrid, a colossus that could hold some seventy-five thousand, was already seething with heat before kickoff.

The whole ground heaved like a red tide. Dyed in the red and white of the Danish flag, the stands looked less like a crowd than a living, breathing thing.

The moment the Danish players turned toward the bench, tens of thousands of supporters locked into one voice and began to stomp the chant into the concrete.

The unity of that support was so complete it felt as if the fans had become a twelfth man on the pitch. The roar poured strength into the Danish players — and settled over the Korean national team as a psychological weight no one could ignore.

"Whoa… the whole stadium is shaking."

"Holy crap. That's insane."

"Yeah. I wonder if I'll ever get a crowd like that when I play in Europe."

Watching the younger players stand there, dazed, staring up at the Danish support, Cheon Mu-seok spoke in a voice that was hard and uncompromising.

"You see that red tide? Beautiful, isn't it. But we've got something even better."

Confidence ran through every word.

"Our Taegeukgi. That flag where red and blue exist in harmony. Today, we spread our Taegeukgi over that sea of red."

He drew a breath, then turned a fierce look on his players.

"Denmark's red is only half of our Taegeukgi. We've got a more perfect harmony than anything they have. Today, that harmony is going to own this stadium."

Ahaha. I think the manager's been watching too many movies… It's cringey, I'll give him that.

Even so, there was no denying what the speech had done. It had put fire in the team. The kids who'd been overwhelmed a moment ago now had eyes full of fight.

Ahem… if that works this well, I should try something like it once I've got some seniority. What would even sound good?

Your mistakes? I'll save every last one of them. Can't find a goal? Leave it to me. Don't be afraid to mess up. Behind you stands the God of Football — me!

Ugh! Just thinking about it is mortifying!

I shuddered at my own imaginary speech and pulled a face, as if I'd bitten straight into a lemon. The grimace ran all the way to my ears, which had gone scarlet.

Yeah. I'll just stick to being a goalkeeper…

"Good evening. This is Lee Seong-jun, bringing you Korea versus Denmark. My word — even before kickoff, that Danish roar is something else."

"It really is. Today's second group-stage match is being played at Estadio Olímpico de Madrid, a state-of-the-art stadium completed in 2030, with a capacity of around seventy-five thousand. More than half of it is already packed with Danish fans, which is the kind of atmosphere that can shrink a Korean player. Holding your nerve in a place like this is going to matter."

"Yoo Jung-hwan, you played the game yourself. In a stadium like this, do the players really get that intimidated?"

"They do. There's a reason people call the crowd the twelfth man. I remember it from my own playing days — in an away atmosphere this overwhelming, you do get pinned back in the opening minutes. Young players especially. But turning that pressure into fuel instead of fear — that's what a strong team looks like. How our players handle this, and whether they can still show what they can do, is going to be one of the big storylines tonight."

"We've got veterans like Park Seo-joon in the side, and Cheon Mu-seok's seasoned leadership on the bench. How those experienced ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heads steer the team is well worth watching."

"Absolutely. And there's another player we have to keep an eye on: goalkeeper Jung Tae-woo. Last time out he saved Gabriel Mendes's penalty and dragged the team to a win. We'll be looking for more of that tonight."

"That's right. He's still young, but he keeps finding the light in the hardest moments. Seeing what he does under this kind of pressure is going to be fascinating."

"The players will be walking out any minute now. Korea have come out in a 4-3-3, same as they did against Brazil. Denmark have gone 3-4-3. Yoo Jung-hwan, what should we be watching in this battle of shapes?"

"Good question. There are a few key points. Our 4-3-3 is a very attacking setup, and against Denmark's 3-4-3 the numbers in midfield are going to matter. Our midfielders, in particular, are going to have a huge job tonight."

"It looks like we're just about ready. Against a powerhouse like Denmark, what kind of miracle will Korea write? There's the whistle — Denmark get us underway."

"The organization is every bit as good as the manager said."

Jung Tae-woo's eyes tracked the Danish passing, flicking from man to man. The ball moved between them like a thread pulled taut, snapping from foot to foot.

Even so, we're getting dragged around from the first minute… Haven't they found the tempo yet?

I made the call on instinct and shouted.

"Hyun-sung hyung, Eun-woo hyung!! Stay calm — don't get pulled around. Hold your shape!"

Denmark's early surge had rattled the back line, and I cut straight to the problem.

"Jung Tae-woo is barking at seniors older than he is, pointing out exactly what's going wrong."

"Wow. That's excellent from Jung Tae-woo."

"What are you seeing there, Yoo Jung-hwan?"

"His shot-stopping was already proven against Brazil. But a goalkeeper needs this, too. Even if the defenders are older than you, you still have to move them so you can make the save on your terms. He's doing that already, at his age. That's a player with a future."

"Tae-woo's organized them, but we're still so early — maybe the legs aren't quite warm. There's a gap opening in the back line."

"Oh! Holmgaard darts into that space, takes it first time — and shoots! Jung Tae-woo throws himself at it and gathers!"

I came up with the ball still hugged to my chest and shouted.

"Don't give them the long-range look — press them, now!"

The informal speech had slipped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out on its own, but what was I supposed to do? They were the ones who'd zoned out.

Yeah. No matter where you go, Korea's defending is the same old chronic problem.

This wouldn't do. Someone had to reset the air in here. I'd told myself not to dribble, originally, but…

I set the ball down and started carrying it out.

"Wait — wait. Jung Tae-woo is driving it out of the penalty area himself. Holmgaard's closing him down. Don't lose it, Tae-woo!"

Come on. He clearly never watched my high school games. You can't just charge in with your brain switched off.

"Ahhhh! Is he actually a goalkeeper?! He beats the striker completely with a Marseille turn!"

The moment I went past the one attacker, a wide-open field unrolled in front of me. Every player's movement snapped into a single picture.

"How far is Jung Tae-woo going? He's still driving forward."

And then I saw it — a run timed to perfection.

How am I supposed to not play that pass? You don't get the ball by standing there waiting. That's how you ask for it, Tae-yang — by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠making a run like that.

I glanced at Lee Tae-yang, who was marking defenders and staring into space, and snorted. Then I swung my leg through it without a second thought.

"Tae-woo delivers!!! The ball is measured perfectly onto Park Seo-joon's run. Park Seo-joon, Park Seo-joon — he shoots! He cuts once and hits it again! Ahhhhh! What a strike from distance!"

"And that delivery from Jung Tae-woo was outrageous. I'll be honest — I don't usually like a goalkeeper carrying it out like that. Jung Tae-woo is the exception. If you've got that composure on the ball and you can pick a long pass like that, you'd be a fool not to use it."

"Jung Tae-woo records his first assist of the Olympics!"

Man. A crowd this size really does ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hit different.

The instant those Danish fans, who had been shaking the stadium as one voice, fell silent — any footballer who has tasted that high can never kick the drug called football.

And look at that. Everyone's eyes are alive again. Think I'll take it easy for a bit.

The twelfth minute. An early Korean goal. But this was only the beginning.