Olympic Final Showdown: Korea vs France
The Olympic final day had arrived. The match between South Korea and France was about to begin.
The stadium was already packed to the rafters. Not just fans from Korea and France, but supporters from every corner of the globe filled the stands.
“I wonder who’s going to win this one?”
Underdog against traditional powerhouse. Most people had predicted France’s victory, but South Korea had already dismantled several traditional strong teams and risen as a dark horse.
“Let’s go Korea!”
“Korea! Show the real power of Asia!”
“Jung Tae-woo, fighting!!”
Even the Asian fans were cheering with fiery passion.
Japanese fans who had lost in the semifinals and Chinese fans eliminated in the qualifiers had also started rooting for South Korea as fellow Asian nations.
The South Korean and French players stood in the pre-match lineup waiting for the entrance to the field. Between them, a quiet but tense standoff filled the air. Every player’s eyes burned with a fierce desire to win.
Lucas Dubois, France’s ace and current top scorer, quietly looked at Jung Tae-woo.
“Is that the guy… Jung Tae-woo?”
This young player from South Korea was the one Pierre Moreau had warned him about so thoroughly.
“If you find yourself in a one-on-one situation with a teammate right next to you, pass it no matter what—100% goal.”
Coach Moreau’s words echoed in Dubois’s ears.
“This should be interesting.”
As a player who truly loved the game, Dubois enjoyed stories about young talents and underdog miracles. A smile crept across his lips.
“Of course, we have no intention of being the sacrificial lamb in that fairy tale.”
A short while later, after the Olympic final opening ceremony ended, the two teams entered the field with solemn resolve.
[“Good evening, this is the caster, Lee Seong-jun.”]
[“Yes, this is the commentator, Yoo Jung-hwan.”]
[“South Korea versus France, France versus South Korea. The highly anticipated final is about to begin.”]
[“Who would have thought that South Korea would reach the final? An underdog’s rebellion! An upset!”]
[“Who’s going to win? This looks like it’s going to be an absolutely thrilling match.”]
The match kicked off with South Korea’s kick-off.
When Lee Tae-yang passed it backward, the much-anticipated tactic unfolded: the Wave Pressing.
The South Korean players exchanged precise passes and slowly pulled the lines up the field.
[“Oh, the Korean specialty—Wave Pressing—is already in full swing. In the Japan match, they first dropped the lines and only pulled them up during counterattacks. This time they’re going straight up. France is going to have to figure out how to respond.”]
[“You’re right. France must have studied this tactic thoroughly. What kind of countermeasures do you think they have in store?”]
The South Korean players’ movements were as organic as a wave. The player in possession was surrounded by others who quickly repositioned themselves.
[“Wow, the passing movement is absolutely beautiful. It looks like they’re all moving as one body.”]
[“Exactly. The core of this Wave Pressing is that beautiful, coordinated movement using numerical superiority. I’m curious how France’s defense is going to handle it.”]
And the French players watching South Korea’s tactic remembered the words Coach Moreau had drilled into them before the match.
“In this game, we’re not afraid of conceding goals. If the opponent scores, we’ll score twice as many.”
And their movements followed right away.
[“Huh? The French players’ movement is different from what we’ve seen from other teams.”]
Instead of the usual defensive counter-tactics used against Korea’s Wave Pressing, France had started an unexpected formation.
Most opponents facing Wave Pressing simply dropped back to defend and look for counters. But France’s movement right now looked like…
[“This is… it looks exactly like a fire-with-fire counter-tactic! France is fighting fire with fire against Korea’s press. It’s like pouring oil on fire!”]
[“Whoa! This final is going to be an absolute war! Everyone in the crowd should buckle up. This match is going to be more thrilling than any rollercoaster!”]
[“Absolutely right. People with weak hearts need to be careful. There’s no time to rest your heart for the full ninety minutes!”]
At that moment, France’s defender Marcel Dupont tried to win the ball more easily by shouting a taunt at a nearby South Korean player.
“Hey, shorty! Stop dancing and give me the ball, alright?”
Lee Tae-yang looked at Dupont after hearing the provocative remark.
“What did you just say, you bearded old man?”
The player Dupont was taunting was Lee Tae-yang, who couldn’t speak English.
And right as the ball came toward him, Tae-yang scanned his surroundings.
“I don’t need to rush in and attack. Hyung is a bit behind, and Hee-sung is…”
Yoo Hee-sung kept an eye on Tae-yang, ready to break through the French defensive line and charge into the penalty area at any moment.
Lee Tae-yang’s eyes sparkled.
“Hee-sung, I’ll sacrifice for the top scorer title. You owe me a chicken later!”
At that instant, the ball flew in.
Lee Tae-yang made an instinctive decision and tilted his head slightly.
The ball hit his head and changed direction, soaring toward Yoo Hee-sung.
[“Oh! Lee Tae-yang’s superb header pass! The ball is flying toward Yoo Hee-sung!”]
[“Wow, what a fantastic pass! Their chemistry is like they have telepathy!”]
[“Yoo Hee-sung is shooting! SHUUUUUUT!!!! Ah, but France’s goalkeeper Lucas Hernandez makes a brilliant save!”]
[“Hernandez goalkeeper clears instantly and punts the ball long. France’s counterattack begins!”]
* * *
“No matter how good I am, this is going to be hard to stop.”
My gaze landed on Lucas Dubois charging forward with the ball.
But right beside him, another French attacker ran alongside.
“Did they really bring out the fire-with-fire tactic?”
France’s formation for this final was 4-2-3-1.
Four defenders, two defensive midfielders, three attacking midfielders, and one striker at the top. But their movements now were completely different.
There was an extreme lack of midfield presence. In other words, the defense was purely defensive, and the attack was purely attacking.
Our proud Wave Pressing usually worked by lifting the defensive line to catch offside or by forcing defenders to come up and creating one-on-one situations.
But right now…
Lucas Dubois and the other French attacker were running right beside him.
“They’ll try to cut the angle and pass into the empty space… or come straight at me, which is out of the question.”
Our defenders were desperately chasing them, but the French players cleverly disrupted the pursuit.
“That’s why we have to force a one-on-one situation at all costs.”
At that moment, a thought flashed through my head.
“Wait… is he really going to pass?”
Lucas Dubois, the top scorer chasing Yoo Hee-sung, was currently one goal ahead with seven goals to six.
In a situation where both teams were playing this aggressively, the lead could flip at any second.
“In this position, will Dubois try to be greedy or pass for the sure goal?”
If it were me, I’d solve it myself. In a one-on-one, the attacker has the advantage.
But I didn’t know the one thing.
Lucas Dubois was a player driven by pure passion for victory.
To him, personal glory meant nothing in front of team success. Top scorer? Just a side bonus.
He valued shining on the field more than anything—more than lifting the French flag high. A player who would gladly give up his own records for the team.
His only real desire was victory itself.
Because I didn’t know that, I made a huge mistake in predicting his next move.
“Damn it!”
Lucas Dubois cut the angle with terrifying precision while I was about to rush out. Without a second of hesitation, he passed to the runner coming up beside him.
And that runner, like a true French player, smashed the ball into the empty net with pinpoint accuracy.
THUD!
The sound of the ball slamming into the net echoed across the stadium, and I could only stand frozen in place.
“I always thought I couldn’t let a goal in no matter what…”
I knew that even if I played perfectly, I would eventually concede. But I never imagined it would happen like this.
“My predictions are off.”
Up until now, everything had gone exactly as I expected. So I had unconsciously believed my next prediction would be right.
But Lucas Dubois’s unexpected pass shattered all my calculations.
At that moment, Lee Seong-jun approached. He looked straight into my eyes and said,
“Tae-woo, there was nothing you could do about that situation.”
Lee Seong-jun’s eyes held a look of sincere comfort for the first goal I had conceded.
“Yes, hyung. I’ll focus again.”
Honestly, I wasn’t that devastated or sad.
Having conceded only one goal in the entire Olympic final so far was already an impressive achievement.
“Well, to be honest, I was a little shocked, but it actually made the game more fun.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
Up until now, the match had been too easy. Now I finally felt the real tension of football.
“Yeah, this is how it should be.”