20 Minutes to Two: Nakamura's First Elastico and the Keeper's Lightning Injury
The Brighton team had already conceded two goals in the opening twenty minutes, but the desperate situation in the relegation zone kept them fighting, calmly reorganizing their lines and refusing to give up.
**"Oh oh!! Joaquin Fernandez's bold tackle! He cleanly takes away Guerrero's ball!"**
"Still got it, bro~"
"Of course."
Joaquin Fernandez and Guerrero had been teammates at River Plate and perfectly understood each other's movements and playing styles.
The more Joaquin's form rose, the more Brighton players centered their play around him.
This was also clear instructions from the Brighton manager before the match.
*'If there's no breakthrough against Manchester City's pressure, pass the ball to Fernandez.'*
Joaquin's play style, reminiscent of Pirlo, was unparalleled.
Accurate long passes, calm ball control, and an outstanding vision in reading the game gave huge momentum to Brighton's counterattack tactics.
As time passed, the match increasingly revolved around Joaquin.
Good counter situations were created, but—
**"Chikusho!!"**
"Hey, I was completely empty there—why aren't you passing and instead dragging the ball?"
"Shut up!"
Nakamura Kenji was ruining everything.
Like he was going to solve it all himself, he dragged the ball and didn't pass to empty teammates.
I watched his figure and shook my head, then carefully observed Joaquin, who handled the ball stably even under Manchester City's pressure.
A perfect first touch that clung to the ball like a magnet.
Excellent football intelligence in reading the flow and adjusting tempo.
Wide vision that even saw approaching teammates.
And sharp dribbling power when it was necessary.
A player who possessed every element a midfielder should have.
"Truly well done. I'd love to bring you to our team later."
Guerrero had praised him before the match for a reason.
But even if you played that well in the middle—
**"Ah, again this time Joaquin Fernandez's wonderful pass, and Nakamura Kenji drags the ball and Castillo steals it!"**
*No matter how much he wanted to show off as a debutant, this absolutely cannot be allowed. Something bad will happen!*
If you get the ball stripped like that up front, you lose the momentum and collapse in an instant.
I didn't even need to intervene; Nakamura Kenji was destroying himself alone.
Just like throwing ice into boiling water, his play instantly cooled Brighton's momentum.
"Nakamura, I understand your feelings. There must be things you want to show, but we're in the relegation zone and extremely dangerous right now. You have to run for the team, not just yourself."
No matter how calmly Joaquin tried to persuade him, Nakamura would never admit his mistake.
Instead, he blamed Joaquin.
"I'm running for the team, and it's your pass timing that's off, so you handle it yourself."
"You bastard!"
Even the famous calm Joaquin couldn't stay silent in front of Nakamura's words.
Teammates hurried to calm Joaquin, but in the eyes of the fans filling the stadium and the commentators, every detail was captured.
**"Ah... this sight is really hard to see. Internal division in a team fighting in the relegation zone. No matter how much of a debut, Nakamura-san's attitude is simply impossible to understand."**
**"The one perfectly holding the center of the team right now is Joaquin Fernandez. It's completely Nakamura Kenji who broke that flow. He has to acknowledge that his play has become poison to the team right now."**
**"Brighton's fans wouldn't have come all the way to Manchester City's home ground to watch this disappointing spectacle..."**
"What's with this kind of thing! I didn't come here to see this!"
"After provoking like that, this is all you show?"
"Manager! Quickly replace that player."
The cries of anger burst out from the Brighton supporters' section and echoed across the pitch.
The disappointment of fans who had followed far for the escape from relegation was passed on intact.
Of course, Brighton's manager wasn't unaware of the situation.
*'I want to substitute... but right now...'
He too wanted to replace Nakamura Kenji playing in that way immediately, but reality was not so easy.
Attackers were consecutively injured and out, and even the remaining one had sustained an injury during training, leaving no resources to substitute.
Nakamura had been signed to fill the power gap, but instead he was harming the team atmosphere.
Joaquin's perfect passes, teammates' movements, and the team's tactics... everything was collapsing because of one variable—Nakamura.
* * *
In the 43rd minute of the first half, the score was still 2-0.
At the moment the first half ended, a golden opportunity came to Nakamura Kenji.
"Nice!"
Joaquin's perfect-timed pass slipped through the defenders.
What fell in front of Nakamura's feet was a golden ball that could create a one-on-one chance with the goalkeeper.
*'Just need to score.'*
For a striker, scoring was an absolution that covered everything.
No matter how messy the team play, no matter the friction with teammates, as long as the goal was scored, everything could be forgiven.
But if he didn't score in this match...
"I can't do it?!"
In front of him was just an eighteen-year-old brat.
**"Nakamura Kenji's first shot of the match!"**
*Ah, Jung Tae-woo caught it lightly. It was a good shot, but it won't work on Jung Tae-woo.*
"Damn it..."
But the subsequent play of Jung Tae-woo made him feel an unbearable humiliation.
The sight of him kicking the ball to the ground and dashing in with a dribble, as if provoking him...
"This arrogant bastard..."
I immediately rushed toward that arrogant guy.
It was a sprint filled with usual impatience.
I applied strong pressure, taunting him to shake his mentality.
"Hey, brat. You're not a striker. You're a goalkeeper, right? Just quietly guard the goal."
Jung Tae-woo answered with composure far beyond his age.
"Hmm... I wonder."
His toes began to move.
At first I thought it was just a simple dribble.
The ball from Jung Tae-woo's toes tilted slightly to the right, then in an instant it was pulled to the inside of the foot.
**Elastico.**
Like magic, before I could react, the ball had already slipped through his legs.
"Waahhh!!"
The cheer from the stands hit my ears.
That cheer sounded like mockery toward him.
Big league, the one I had dreamed of since my rookie days.
I had come to the Premier League I had longed for, but what was my current appearance.
It was humiliating to see myself being toyed with so easily by an eighteen-year-old brat.
In front of countless fans watching through global broadcasts, I had simply become one highlight scene of that brat's personal skill.
This scene would be replayed in Japan and everywhere in the world.
*'Nakamura Kenji, toyed with by an 18-year-old goalkeeper.'*
*'Result of provocation: toyed with.'*
*'Impossible... impossible to send it!'*
The momentary anger covered my reason.
My vision turned red.
The pride that had been called the future of Japanese football seemed to shatter into pieces.
I twisted my body roughly.
I only wanted to trip Jung Tae-woo's foot.
This was no longer about the game.
Only pure anger remained to knock down the 18-year-old goalkeeper in front of me, reason long gone.
But at that moment,
the right thigh muscle, twisted unreasonably, burned like it was torn.
Lightning-fast pain flooded my vision.
The sudden change of direction had betrayed my leg.
Just like divine punishment,
my malicious foul attempt failed.
"Guwaaah!"
With a tearing pain, I fell to my knees on the grass.
The stands' cheers turned into concerned groans, but even that sounded like mockery to my ears.
The pain in my thigh was less painful than the collapsed pride.
* * *
Just before the end of the first half, the moment I was about to leave the penalty area to join the attack on the manager's order.
"Hey, brat. You're not a striker. You're a goalkeeper, right? Just quietly guard the goal."
Ignoring Nakamura Kenji's provocation, as I dashed forward through him,
"Guwaaah!"
'What's this?'
I turned around to see Nakamura standing on the grass, clutching his right thigh in extreme pain.
The provocative words he had thrown at me moments ago were meaningless.
He was writhing in severe pain now.
The instant I saw it, I kicked the ball out of play and gestured to Brighton's formation.
**"Nakamura Kenji is unable to get up! His face distorted by pain!"**
*Slow motion... ah, he tried to forcibly tackle Jung Tae-woo and strained his muscle. Grabbing the back of the thigh suggests a hamstring tear.*
*The player who had been in conflict was confirmed injured, and Jung Tae-woo's sportsmanship in immediately kicking the ball out of play is truly praiseworthy.*
While watching the medical staff carry Nakamura off on a stretcher out of the stadium,
Joaquin approached me.
"Thank you. And..."
Joaquin bowed his head and continued.
"Instead of Nakamura, I'll apologize for provoking before the match."
"It's fine."
I really didn't mind,
I just felt sorry.
*'Why chase after me at your own slow speed'*
---
**"Nakamura Kenji's first shot of the match!"**
*Ah, Jung Tae-woo caught it lightly. It was a good shot, but it won't work on Jung Tae-woo.*
**"Chikusho!!"**
"Hey, I was completely empty there—why aren't you passing and instead dragging the ball?"
"Shut up!"
**"Aigoo..."**
"But the subsequent play of Jung Tae-woo made him feel an unbearable humiliation."
The sight of him kicking the ball to the ground and dashing in with a dribble, as if provoking him...
**"This arrogant bastard..."**
I immediately rushed toward that arrogant guy.
It was a sprint filled with usual impatience.
I applied strong pressure, taunting him to shake his mentality.
"Hey, brat. You're not a striker. You're a goalkeeper, right? Just quietly guard the goal."
Jung Tae-woo answered with composure far beyond his age.
"Hmm... I wonder."
His toes began to move.
At first I thought it was just a simple dribble.
The ball from Jung Tae-woo's toes tilted slightly to the right, then in an instant it was pulled to the inside of the foot.
**Elastico.**
Like magic, before I could react, the ball had already slipped through his legs.
"Waahhh!!"
The cheer from the stands hit my ears.
That cheer sounded like mockery toward him.
Big league, the one I had dreamed of since my rookie days.
I had come to the Premier League I had longed for, but what was my current appearance.
It was humiliating to see myself being toyed with so easily by an eighteen-year-old brat.
In front of countless fans watching through global broadcasts, I had simply become one highlight scene of that brat's personal skill.
This scene would be replayed in Japan and everywhere in the world.
*'Nakamura Kenji, toyed with by an 18-year-old goalkeeper.'*
*'Result of provocation: toyed with.'*
*'Impossible... impossible to send it!'*
The momentary anger covered my reason.
My vision turned red.
The pride that had been called the future of Japanese football seemed to shatter into pieces.
I twisted my body roughly.
I only wanted to trip Jung Tae-woo's foot.
This was no longer about the game.
Only pure anger remained to knock down the 18-year-old goalkeeper in front of me, reason long gone.
But at that moment,
the right thigh muscle, twisted unreasonably, burned like it was torn.
Lightning-fast pain flooded my vision.
The sudden change of direction had betrayed my leg.
Just like divine punishment,
my malicious foul attempt failed.
"Guwaaah!"
With a tearing pain, I fell to my knees on the grass.
The stands' cheers turned into concerned groans, but even that sounded like mockery to my ears.
The pain in my thigh was less painful than the collapsed pride.
* * *
The moment I was about to leave the penalty area to join the attack on the manager's order.
"Hey, brat. You're not a striker. You're a goalkeeper, right? Just quietly guard the goal."
Ignoring Nakamura Kenji's provocation, as I dashed forward through him,
"Guwaaah!"
'What's this?'
I turned around to see Nakamura standing on the grass, clutching his right thigh in extreme pain.
The provocative words he had thrown at me moments ago were meaningless.
He was writhing in severe pain now.
The instant I saw it, I kicked the ball out of play and gestured to Brighton's formation.
**"Nakamura Kenji is unable to get up! His face distorted by pain!"**
*Slow motion... ah, he tried to forcibly tackle Jung Tae-woo and strained his muscle. Grabbing the back of the thigh suggests a hamstring tear.*
*The player who had been in conflict was confirmed injured, and Jung Tae-woo's sportsmanship in immediately kicking the ball out of play is truly praiseworthy.*
While watching the medical staff carry Nakamura off on a stretcher out of the stadium,
Joaquin approached me.
"Thank you. And..."
Joaquin bowed his head and continued.
"Instead of Nakamura, I'll apologize for provoking before the match."
"It's fine."
I really didn't mind,
I just felt sorry.
*'Why chase after me at your own slow speed'*