vs Anyang Purples (3)
Seongjin Hanul FC had seized the flow of the match toward the end of the first half, yet the crucial problem remained unsolved.
Anyang Purples’ rock-solid defense.
Seongjin Hanul FC still lacked the power to break through a wall like that.
As a result, the first half—including stoppage time—ended far more emptily than anyone had expected, and the players filed into the locker room together.
Even so, their expressions looked far brighter than before. At least they now understood how to blunt that offensive.
Problems still remained, of course.
The attack. That side of the game needed a wholesale tactical overhaul.
And the man who felt that need most keenly was, naturally, the manager himself—Marco Feltner.
“Alright. Everyone sit.”
The moment the players walked in, Feltner ordered them all to take a seat.
Watching them wait for the interpreter before they reacted might have looked awkward from the outside, but for Seongjin Hanul FC it was simply routine—an essential step if they were going to communicate properly with their coach.
Once every player was seated, Feltner finished his silent calculations, opened his mouth, and began to explain.
What Anyang Purples would do next. How Seongjin Hanul FC should answer. He walked them through every detail, one by one.
When he finished, he put a single question to the room.
“Anyone still have questions?”
Koreans rarely speak up in moments like this, and Feltner knew it. That was why, after he finished reshaping the squad, he had told them straight out: if something’s unclear, ask. Soccer is played with the body, but it is also played with the mind—never stop thinking.
Perhaps that was why Cha Jeong-woo, the player who listened to Feltner more carefully than anyone, raised his hand.
“What if Anyang doesn’t come out the way we expect?”
That possibility always existed. And Feltner already had a Plan B ready for it.
“In that case…”
He glanced toward one corner of the locker room.
Even in this charged atmosphere, one man still stood outside the circle. He half-listened to Feltner’s instructions and half-let them slide past him, as if the entire space had nothing to do with him.
“In that case, I already have something in mind. So don’t be afraid.”
Cha Jeong-woo nodded. A few other players followed with questions of their own—most of them the young prospects Feltner and Han Do-a had personally brought in.
“Coach… so I should focus more on joining the attack?”
“Yes. But Gu Bon-cheol won’t be able to fully contain Pereira’s pace, so on the counter you drop back fast and help the defense.”
“Should I drop deeper and help build the attack?”
“No, Kang. Conserve every scrap of energy. You’re our goal-getter. Your stamina exists for one thing only—scoring.”
Those two questions and a handful more finished the Q&A. Feltner gathered the squad into a tight knot.
“K League 1 is nothing special! We can break them! Believe in us! Believe in yourselves!”
The players could not understand the words themselves. But the force behind them, the sheer presence of the speech, lit a fire under every man in the room.
That was why, even without knowing what had been said, they roared as one.
“Fighting!!!”
The sudden bellow startled Feltner, who had been the one to call them together. The players burst out laughing at his surprise; after a beat of pure confusion, Feltner threw his head back and laughed with them.
Meanwhile, over in the Anyang Purples camp…
“……All right, boys. Time to lock it down.”
They were preparing to go even more defensive.
Where they had previously mixed possession with pragmatic football, Anyang Purples now intended to slam the gates shut and play extreme results-first soccer.
And that was exactly the direction of play the German tactician had been waiting for.
Anyang Purples employed a hybrid of possession football and results-oriented pragmatism.
They pressed high, transitioned rapidly from defense to attack, and launched counters from advanced positions. Yet the moment they met a side whose quality made that high press impossible, they shut up shop without a second’s hesitation.
Hybrid. The word fit Anyang Purples perfectly.
Their most distinctive trait was this: the instant a match looked like it might turn difficult, they flipped the switch to ultra-conservative management.
“Substitution for Anyang Purples.”
The change came the second the second half kicked off—two midfielders replaced by more defensive options. Leaving the front three untouched was a token gesture toward counter-attacking threat, but it hardly mattered. The real message was clear: their counters would now carry far less venom.
Tweet!
Anyang Purples restarted the match. The moment the second half began, both their players and Manager Yu Byeong-jun saw that Seongjin Hanul FC’s shape had completely transformed from the first half.
More precisely, the position of Seongjin Hanul FC’s key player had changed.
In Anyang Purples’ eyes, that key player was none other than Cha Jeong-woo.
And Cha Jeong-woo was no longer where they expected him.
Ever since the rebuild, Cha Jeong-woo had terrorized opponents from the wing-back role—a true multi-tool who attacked and defended with equal menace. Stamina, pace, dribbling, finishing, a serviceable cross… having a player like that at wing-back was a luxury.
Now he was lined up as a winger.
Defensive numbers? Down by one.
Yes—Seongjin Hanul FC had been certain from the start that Anyang would dig in even deeper. Their answer was to push Cha Jeong-woo higher, into the wing.
And the tactic paid dividends almost immediately.
Thump!
Gu Bon-cheol stepped forward a half-pace and snuffed out the pass meant for Carlos Pereira, then immediately laid the ball off to Baek Hyeon just ahead of him. The moment Baek Hyeon received it, he checked Cha Jeong-woo’s signal.
A wave that said: I’m making the run.
Trusting that signal, Baek Hyeon drove the ball forward into space.
Thump!
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The pass was a shade long, yet it still found Cha Jeong-woo. Three Anyang players instantly closed him down.
Even with Cha Jeong-woo’s position shifted, Anyang clung to their fundamental philosophy: Shut down Cha Jeong-woo and the rest are scarecrows. They pressed him hard.
“Tch…!”
The ball had arrived too deep; space was almost nonexistent. Then Cha Jeong-woo’s eyes flashed.
Tap!!
He stretched a foot. The ball left his boot and…
slid cleanly between an Anyang defender’s legs, rolling into the space beyond.
Waiting there, of course, was the man the commentators had been salivating over since before kickoff—Seongjin Hanul FC’s natural goal-scorer.
Kang Si-woo.
Whoosh!
Kang Si-woo took the ball and spun in the same motion, opening his body toward goal. Only the keeper and one last defender stood between him and the net.
Perhaps because the nutmeg had just happened, the defender recovered and charged. Kang Si-woo had to decide instantly.
Flick!
He raised his foot as if to shoot. The defender twisted his body in response.
But—
Thump!!
It wasn’t a shot.
A simple body feint. Nothing more than a shift of weight.
An audacious piece of skill right in front of goal, yet that audacity left him one-on-one with the keeper.
Boom!!
Kang Si-woo struck.
The ball screamed toward the far post. A knife-edge moment. The keeper flung himself late—
Whoosh!
Too late.
Thwack! Swishhhhh!!
The ball kissed the side netting and nestled in the back of the goal.
“Aaaaaaaaah!!!”
“Waaaaaaaaaaah!!!”
Kang Si-woo bellowed as he sprinted straight toward the Seongjin Hanul FC home fans. Arms wide, he invited their roar; teammates piled on top of him while the stands erupted.
Equalizer. Nine minutes into the second half.
That goal felt like a direct message to Anyang Purples, who had tried to lock the game down: You will never shut us out.
Lock the doors all you want—we’ll keep hammering until they come off the hinges. We’ll keep scoring.
Celebration finished, the players returned to their positions. Anyang’s manager immediately roared at his men.
“Attack again! Press them hard!!”
For the sake of victory, Anyang Purples abandoned the changes they had just made and reverted to their original approach.