The Korean Derby Awakens
Three days before the Korean Derby began, I broke my usual routine of training field to home and back, heading somewhere completely different for the first time in a long while.
“Hello, Hyung. I’m here.”
“Uh-huh. Just wait a second.”
In front of me stood a two-story mansion that could have been plucked straight from a British high-society postcard. In England, how many Korean friends did a guy like me—fresh off the Olympic team—have who lived in a place this grand? None other than my old captain, Park Seo-joon.
“Taewoo!”
At the front door, waiting exactly as promised, a tall figure in black training gear strolled up slowly.
“Long time no see. I wanted to catch you the day you joined City, but you know how messy the team has been lately…”
“Hey, it’s fine.”
Chelsia’s new season had been electric—some kid from the academy had taken the captaincy and turned the whole league upside down.
“But you know what? Hyung became the first Asian captain in European football history.”
It was the first time in the entire record books of European soccer that an Asian player had worn the armband for a big club, and Park Seo-joon Hyung had been the one to make it happen.
“Being captain isn’t all roses, though. *sigh*”
I could feel the weight behind that sigh. No matter how open-minded a country is, racism in football was still a cancer eating at the soul of the game.
Naturally, some players had grumbled about an Asian taking the armband… and every time we lost, they’d bring up “leadership problems” and quietly pressure the poor guy.
“Ah, come on in.”
I stepped into the two-story house in the London suburbs. It wasn’t flashy, but the dignified interior screamed Park Seo-joon through and through.
“Make yourself comfortable. What can I get you?”
“Just water, please.”
“Really? I’ve got orange juice… and our little Tae-woo doesn’t like juice, does he?”
“Ah, Hyung…”
“Ehehe, I’m kidding. Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
While Hyung headed to the kitchen, I dropped onto the living-room sofa. The view outside the window was like a painting—London’s skyline glowing golden in the late afternoon light.
When I turned back, my eyes landed on the glass cabinet beside the TV. Trophy after trophy stood neatly arranged inside, gleaming like they’d been polished for show.
“Here you go.”
Hyung returned with a glass of orange juice and a tall glass of water.
“Ah, this Hyung is always doing that…”
“Ah, you said you don’t drink orange juice.”
“Well, I’m the one drinking it!”
“You hate orange juice, remember?”
“Who said that? I’m obsessed with fruit juice!”
“Even if you say that…”
“What are you saying? It’s true, though. But why were you staring at the cabinet?”
“Ah, the trophies. They’re amazing…”
I had won my share of silverware in Europe too, so I knew exactly how hard and rare it was to collect them.
“Well, you’ll get plenty soon enough. I heard about the Man United match—it looked insane. Just go easy on us when we play, okay?”
“No way. It was just luck, that’s all.”
It wasn’t humble talk. It was a hundred percent genuine.
If we could play every single match like that against Man United, we would have kept our clean-sheet record going all the way to the Liverpool game.
“Luck? That kind of luck doesn’t just appear. Only people who’ve prepared for it get it, bro.”
…True enough.
Some people say luck only comes to those who’ve earned it, after all.
“Anyway, when we play our match, go easy. Let’s score a few. If you keep shutting us down, I’m gonna be in a lot of trouble.”
“Uh… are you trying to propose match-fixing right now? Whoa, the Chelsea captain offering that? My bad for judging a book by its cover.”
“Oi!”
We both burst out laughing.
It sounded so absurd, so ridiculous, that I could almost believe it was two kids yapping instead of the top players in Europe’s greatest league.
“Ah, right. What about you? How’s everything going?”
“What does that mean? How would I know?”
“No, that girl-friend of yours… still just a friend? Or actual girlfriend? If she’s still just a friend, then really…”
“Ah, that’s the story. I never actually told Hyung about it.”
“Hyung, this is Jung Tae-woo. He’s the number-one handsome soccer player picked by the Korean people?”
“Me? Giving a hotshot like that advice on love? If this ever hits a talk show, I’m exposing the hell out of him. ‘Remember that arrogant Jung Tae-woo? Turns out he’s a hopeless romantic who can’t even pick a girlfriend!’”
“What if I say the Chelsea captain just proposed match-fixing?”
“This is…”
* * *
The Korean Derby—Manchester City versus Chelsea.
In Europe, everyone was glued to the question of whether Man City’s perfect first-half streak would continue.
[Europe’s first Asian captain versus the 17-game clean-sheet wonder…]
*swallow*… the title hit me right in the chest. It felt huge.
[Back in the day I used to worry whether I’d even start, but now one’s captain and the other’s first-choice keeper—no more worries.]
[laughs] How are we supposed to survive until match day?
Korea’s reaction was completely different.
This was the first Korean Derby in forever, and the entire country was obsessed.
Before, only Park Seo-joon had been in the Premier League, so a Korean Derby never existed. Now it did—thanks to my move to Man City and his switch to Chelsea.
[Korean football’s veteran versus its new star! Manchester City vs Chelsea Korean Derby—live at 11 PM tonight!]
SBS, who held the broadcasting rights, had been nervous about my debut, wondering if an 18-year-old keeper could survive the Premier League.
But instead of worry, I delivered overwhelming performances and the ratings kept climbing higher than ever.
Now it was a Korean Derby…
I could already hear the sound of ratings exploding off the charts.
“Ah, the second I see that guy I want to give him a kiss right here.”
“Yo, Jung-ah. That’s a crime.”
“Hey, chief. I was just happy—purely happy!”
In the broadcast team’s meeting room, the director and main PD stared at the monitor trading empty jokes.
“Joke? You’re drooling over Tae-woo’s face!”
“Hey, even if I’m a little out of it, I don’t touch minors. I’m a good adult who follows the rules.”
“…?”
“Chief, that look on your face is creepy.”
“Hahaha.”
The chief smiled awkwardly and quickly changed the subject.
“Team prep ready?”
“Yes, no need to worry.”
In Yuji’s voice you could hear pure confidence.
“We won’t miss a single second of those two players. Not one.”
“Great.”
The chief nodded.
“It’s Korean players facing off in the Premier League—an historic moment. We have to show them what we can do.”
“Ugh, just thinking about it gives me chills. Captain Park Seo-joon—reliable senior type you’d lean on—like a university senpai. And then the cheeky, bad-boy rookie Tae-woo—looks like an angel but acts like a devil… watching them alone is already healing…”
“Crime.”
“No, I was just saying it innocently!”
Yuji waved his hands, but the chief’s expression said he didn’t believe a word.
*Yeah… even I, as a guy, would look. What about a girl?*
Still, as a senior, I had to say something.
“But if you pick Tae-woo’s face as your ideal type, you’ll never get married in your life, right?”
“Waaah! Chief! You’re saying that to a single female staff member…”
* * *
[Premier League 19th round: Manchester City versus Chelsea. Both Park Seo-joon and Jung Tae-woo are starting—Korean Derby is officially on.]
[This season Park Seo-joon has written new history as Chelsea’s captain.]
[Exactly. When he became the first Asian captain in the Premier League, the world was talking. But he silenced every rumor with pure performance. He proved to the entire planet, ‘I am Park Seo-joon.’ Now every match, the armband on his sleeve, walking onto the pitch—that’s the new landmark for Asian football.]
[On the other side, Jung Tae-woo—when he debuted this season the experts were worried. ‘Too early for a big club?’ ‘Lack of experience will be a fatal flaw?’ All those voices were loud. But Jung Tae-woo blew every concern away, writing a record-shattering 17 consecutive clean sheets.]
[The most dramatic part? The record broke Leo’s legendary 16-game streak. Like fate itself, Leo handed the throne directly to Tae-woo. We’re watching the birth of a new Manchester City legend.]
[We no longer have to worry whether a Korean Derby will even happen. Both players have cemented their places on their teams. All that remains is one question: who will win this Korean Derby?]
[All right, let’s break it down. Park Seo-joon’s magical passing is already world-renowned. But his real weapon is something else.]
[Long-range shots…?]
[Exactly! Park Seo-joon’s long-range shots are pure art—precise as a laser and deadly. They’ve made countless keepers despair. But Jung Tae-woo is now recognized as the best sweeper-keeper in the world.]
[Right. If he hadn’t conceded against Liverpool, I would have honestly suspected he was an AI sent by the God of Soccer. Haha.]
[That’s why this match is so exciting. Park Seo-joon’s laser shots against Tae-woo’s ironclad defense—only one can be the winner.]
[Ah, we were rambling so much the players are already on the pitch!]
[Oh… the handshake between Park Seo-joon and Jung Tae-woo is incredible. It looks like a scene straight out of a wuxia novel. The veteran acknowledging the rising star… that strange mix of tension and respect.]
[Eh…?]
[Ahem… sorry. I’ve been reading too many wuxia novels lately…]
[HAHAHA! And both of them are basically protagonists in a novel. Handsome, genius-level talent, and good personalities too. If we tried to write them that way in a book, people would call it unrealistic. Yet here they are in real life.]
[And just like that, the two Korean legends stood face to face under the lights of the Premier League, the Korean Derby officially kicking off.]