The First Anti-Racism Commercial Shoot in Madrid
< p > FIFA President: "Jung Tae-woo’s Case Will Be a Turning Point in Eradicating Racial Discrimination in Football."
< p > FIFA is not merely issuing statements about ending racial discrimination. Instead, they have chosen me as the centerpiece for the campaign advertisement.
< p > ‘I never imagined a soccer player would film an anti-racism ad before any sports-brand commercial.’
< p > The three major sports brands in football are Nike, Adidas, and Puma. A soccer player is like an exclusive model for these brands. Once a contract is signed, the player must use only that brand’s products. So if a player’s cleats appear black in an ad, it’s a kind of “job hunt” message.
< p > I’ve been wearing black cleats every day. I simply haven’t signed a contract yet. I’m delaying it until next season because my value keeps rising daily.
< p > That’s why I’ve come to Madrid, Spain, for my first commercial shoot. Of course, I arrived secretly. If word got out that Jung Tae-woo was here, unnecessary transfer rumors would spread and hurt Manchester City’s title chase.
< p > “Oh, you’re even more handsome in person. Nice to meet you. I’m Javier Luna, the project director for this campaign.”
< p > A neatly dressed middle-aged man in a black suit, with brown hair, smiled and offered his hand.
< p > I shook it.
< p > “I do have a decent face, I guess. Nice to meet you too.”
< p > “Hahaha, Tae-woo is really charismatic. You have so much confidence.”
< p > “That’s one of my many advantages.”
< p > “Ehehehe! I haven’t laughed like this in ages! I heard you’re under twenty, but you’re so fun. Your joke code is perfect!”
< p > ‘Wait… am I coming off as an uncle right now?’
< p > The memory of my life as Kim Chan-ki flashed through my mind. We were probably the same age.
< p > “I’m a perfect Gen-Z guy.”
< p > I don’t even sound like that, but I kept it to myself.
< p > “Gen-Z, huh? When we say that, we’re the ‘MD Generation’—Middle-Aged Dad! Hahaha, isn’t it hilarious?”
< p > ‘Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.’
< p > I desperately held back the smile creeping up my lips. Laughing would mean admitting I sounded like an uncle.
< p > Fortunately, a distant shout saved me.
< p > “Team leader! You can’t keep Player Jung Tae-woo here. The makeup team is waiting!”
< p > “Too bad. If you have time after, let’s chat more—”
< p > “I have training, so I don’t have time. See you.”
< p > I slipped away quickly.
< p > The gaze behind me felt heavy, but I didn’t turn around. If I did, I might have to endure another uncle joke from the company deputy director in front of this middle-aged European.
< p > The bigger problem was… I could no longer tolerate the thought of myself laughing at that joke.
< p > I stepped into the makeup room and three staff members greeted me.
< p > “Hello, Player Jung Tae-woo! We’re the makeup team for today.”
< p > The moment I sat, one staff member studied my face and sighed in admiration.
< p > “Wow… your skin is really good! Can I ask how you take care of it?”
< p > “Um… I don’t do anything special. I sweat a lot playing soccer, and I drink water often…”
< p > “No way, your skin looks like it was born that good? We feel bad putting makeup on you.”
< p > Another staff member chimed in.
< p > “Exactly. Usually athletes are so sun-exposed that their skin is rough…”
< p > I’ve never cared for my skin. I don’t even wear sunscreen when I play.
< p > While the makeup continued, the staff chattered on.
< p > “Your skin is so fair that even basic care makes you look handsome.”
< p > “This is why they say skin is inherited. How can an athlete’s skin be this good?”
< p > At first I answered each question, but the moment I realized they weren’t looking for answers, I just stayed silent.
< p > Then chaos erupted from outside.
< p > “Oh, she’s here!”
< p > “Wow, she’s really my fan… I wonder how pretty she is in real life.”
< p > FIFA chose one Asian, one Caucasian, and one Black model for the ad, using the slogan “Different Colors, One Humanity.”
< p > One of them—the glamorous Hollywood actress Scarlett, who had already finished makeup and was resting—became the center of the commotion.
< p > “Oh my, Player Jung Tae-woo! You’re even more handsome in person.”
< p > The door opened and in walked Scarlett, the Hollywood actress known as the “Glamorous Queen” on Instagram after she posted about me and stirred Jang Da-min’s jealousy.
< p > She wasn’t an athlete, but thanks to her strong support during my recent racism controversy, she had been selected for this ad.
< p > “Scarlett is pretty too. I saw your Instagram post defending me.”
< p > “Oh?”
< p > She brushed her golden wavy hair and smiled.
< p > Where Ga-young was sharp and composed, Scarlett radiated sultry charm.
< p > “I was just doing what I thought was right. I still couldn’t believe such a thing was happening.”
< p > She sat beside me and suddenly leaned in, face inches away.
< p > I flinched and leaned back.
< p > She laughed.
< p > “Ho ho ho, I won’t eat you.”
< p > ‘I have Da-min. I have Da-min. I have Da-min.’
< p > I repeated it desperately in my mind.
< p > Then she whispered into my ear.
< p > “Also, the main character was too much my type.”
< p > ‘I have Da-min!!!!’
< p > My brain screamed.
< p > * * *
< p > The moment makeup ended, I escaped the room at lightning speed.
< p > The studio was chaotic—staff bustling everywhere, cameras everywhere.
< p > Luke Shaw, the LA Lakers ace who had arrived earlier than me, was already there.
< p > He was one of the most watched Black players in the NBA, a candidate for last season’s MVP.
< p > The moment he saw me, he approached.
< p > “Hey bro, I wanted to meet you.”
< p > His greeting reminded me of Guerrero’s first one, but I quickly shook the thought away.
< p > Recalling Guerrero felt too rude.
< p > ‘First meeting and already a huge blunder. Still, he’s huge.’
< p > Even as a goalkeeper, I’m not short, but in front of him I felt tiny.
< p > His 2.23-meter frame is enormous even by NBA standards.
< p > “Me too. I love basketball.”
< p > “Oh, really? Then call me later. No, exchange numbers right now.”
< p > Luke pulled out his phone and grinned widely.
< p > His smile was warm despite his massive build.
< p > “Whoa, I’m jealous. I want that number too.”
< p > Scarlett, finished with makeup, walked over.
< p > We all wore the same white T-shirt. In black letters across the chest: “DIFFERENT COLORS, ONE HUMANITY.”
< p > “Let’s start shooting!”
< p > The staff’s voice urged me forward.
< p > “Player Jung Tae-woo, you look great moving too.”
< p > Scarlett’s line made me break into a cold sweat, but I ignored it.
< p > ‘…Why is this harder than an actual soccer game?’
< p > We struck poses in front of the cameras—three of us with arms around each other’s shoulders, laughing, one arm extended.
< p > Unfortunately, Luke’s height created a funny mishap.
< p > He had to bend down while Scarlett tiptoed, but somehow they balanced the pose.
< p > After the shoot, I practically sprinted out.
< p > Having to deal with Javier Luna’s uncle jokes and Scarlett’s seduction was way too hard.
< p > ‘…From now on I’ll think twice before doing another ad.
< p > Nothing in the world is easy except soccer.
< p > * * *
< p > After the shoot, my daily life didn’t change much.
< p > I still trained at the club and played league matches. The same ordinary days—gaming with Guerrero, Castillo, and Sanchez—continued.
< p > “This has a problem!”
< p > Guerrero pointed at the monitor screen, furious.
< p > “What is it?”
< p > This was the second time in a row.
< p > We had all grown used to accepting Guerrero’s sudden rants.
< p > “It’s weird, Tae-woo. You’re clearly a goalkeeper.”
< p > “That’s right.”
< p > “But why is my dribble stat lower than yours?”
< p > He was playing FIFA.
< p > Each year they analyzed real players’ data and recalibrated the in-game stats.
< p > My dribble rating came out higher than Guerrero’s.
< p > ‘But isn’t that natural?’
< p > “Of course it is. I dribble better than you.”
< p > In fact, I should be offended.
< p > How can my shooting stat be lower than his?
< p > “Well, I’m a striker and you’re a goalkeeper.”
< p > “But—”
< p > “No, I’m a striker and you’re a goalkeeper!”
< p > “So?”
< p > “There’s no way, Tae-woo. It’s a competition. Get out to the field right now!”
< p > Guerrero stormed out after saying that.
< p > Castillo and Sanchez looked at each other, then shrugged.
< p > “Sigh, Tae-woo isn’t coming?”
< p > “Tae-woo, don’t go. You’ll get in a bad habit.”
< p > “I’m not going?”
< p > We restarted the game with renewed effort.
< p > But the moment we stepped onto the field—without even warm-up clothes—Guerrero…
< p > “Sniff… why isn’t he coming…”
< p > He was shivering from the cold.