vs Anyang Purples (4)
To put Anyang Purples’ tactics bluntly, they were fairly sound by conventional standards.
Lock down Cha Jeong-woo—the wingback converted from a winger, and the heart of the team’s attack—with two or more dedicated markers, and let Carlos Pereira settle the offense with his pace and physicality.
That combination—Carlos Pereira’s power, which worked not only against second-division sides but even against top-flight clubs, and a plan that zeroed in on the opponent’s key player—would have been devastating against a second-division outfit like Seongjin Hanul FC.
But there was one thing Anyang Purples had failed to account for: Seongjin Hanul FC’s current strength made them, without question, the strongest side in the second division. Some of their players were good enough to hold their own even at the first-division level.
The clearest examples were Cha Jeong-woo and Kang Si-woo.
Cha Jeong-woo, who could slice through defenders and deliver the ball to the team’s main scorer even on a slightly overhit pass; and Kang Si-woo, who could calmly peel off a marker and finish even in the tightest of situations.
Underestimating those two men’s individual quality had been Anyang Purples’ real mistake.
Anyang Purples swung back onto the front foot—and the moment they did, another problem surfaced.
Thwack!
“Damn it….”
Their attacking moves simply weren’t coming off.
The man shutting them down was, of course, Ha Seung-pyo—that same Ha Seung-pyo.
Even in the second division, there were players who could thrive in the first. Ha Seung-pyo was one of the names that came up most often.
A player who already had first-division credentials had met a manager without a single tactical peer in the K League, and the result was a master class in what an iron wall of a defense actually looked like.
And that wasn’t all.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
In situations like this, Seongjin Hanul FC’s own attacking transitions only grew more dangerous.
This was a side that had already punched holes through packed defenses. Against an Anyang Purples side that had pushed its line high, they were an easy team to carve open.
Thud!!
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The ball left Nam Gi-cheol’s foot at the start of the move and rolled forward at speed. The man who went to collect it was Ha Seung-pyo—the same player who had just won the ball back moments earlier.
“Stop him!!!”
They shouted for someone to close him down, but there simply weren’t enough defenders.
In the first goal, Cha Jeong-woo’s burst of pace and his final pass had been so sharp that orders had already gone out to mark him tightly. In that instant, they lost track of Ha Seung-pyo.
Whooosh!!
Ha Seung-pyo’s cross was too refined to belong to a second-division player, and a little too rough to be called high quality.
The moment Kang Si-woo read that crude delivery, he was certain.
That ball was never going to reach him cleanly.
So what could he do?
Simple.
Tat-tat-tat!
If he threw everything into getting a touch, he could just about get something on it. And if he did, there was still one man who could finish the job.
Thwack!
Kang Si-woo somehow got his head to the ball and went sprawling—and the defender who’d been marking him went down with him.
For a split second, the six-yard box was completely empty.
Pa-pa-pa-pat!!
And Cha Jeong-woo, who had been under heavy marking only moments before, was already charging into the box.
Kang Si-woo’s decision to nod the ball not at goal but back toward the teammate arriving behind him—and Cha Jeong-woo’s run answering that choice perfectly.
Those two touches yanked the keeper’s body one way.
Caught on his heels, the goalkeeper still thought, He’s only a wingback—please let his finishing be poor, and tried to hurl himself the other way.
If the shot lacked bite, he might still untangle himself from the wrong-footed lunge and get something on it.
There was just one problem.
Until the Seongjin Maseong FC days, Cha Jeong-woo had been a winger. He’d been shifted to wingback not because of any shortcoming in his ability, but because Seongjin Hanul FC simply didn’t have a proper wingback—he was a stopgap, nothing more.
Was a player like that really going to lack a finishing touch?
Whoom!
CRACK!!
Fweeeeeeeeee!!!
The ball met the sweet spot of his instep and screamed straight into the far corner.
Trailing defenders clawed at Cha Jeong-woo’s arms, trying to haul him back—but it was already too late. The ball was gone.
Crash!
Even as he toppled backward, Cha Jeong-woo tracked the shot—and watched it bury itself in the net on the side opposite the keeper.
Thwump!!
The ball nestled perfectly in the goal. The instant he saw it, Cha Jeong-woo was back on his feet, fist punching the sky.
“YESSSSSSS!!!”
““WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!””
The moment Cha Jeong-woo scored, every Seongjin Hanul FC fan inside the ground erupted as one.
A second goal only five minutes after the first.
The momentum looked as if it had swung entirely to Seongjin Hanul FC.
Anyang Purples refused to go down like that. Manager Yu Byeong-jun called his defenders over and started laying out adjustments.
Seongjin Hanul FC had no way of knowing what those instructions were.
But from that point on, they truly couldn’t break through.
Anyang had eased the pressure on Cha Jeong-woo just a fraction, stuck a dedicated marker on Ha Seung-pyo, and ordered Carlos Pereira to press Baek Hyeon high up the pitch.
In practice, the tweak hit Seongjin Hanul FC hard.
“Tch…!”
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Thud!
Baek Hyeon had almost no time on the ball, and the rest of the side barely had a chance to check whether anyone else had space. There was no leisure for a quality pass either.
That left them leaning entirely on Cha Jeong-woo’s individual dribbling.
Whoosh! Thud!
Thwack!!
“Ugh…!?”
“Not happening…!”
Even Cha Jeong-woo struggled to beat a man who shadowed him like a ghost and stepped in the instant the ball arrived—especially when there were at least two of them.
That said, Anyang Purples’ attacks weren’t landing cleanly either.
Boom!
The moment the ball went forward, Baek Hyeon—who had been involved in the attack—sprinted back into his own half and, together with Gu Bon-cheol, clamped down on Carlos Pereira as he tried to break.
Thwack!
Gu Bon-cheol held Carlos Pereira off with sheer strength while Baek Hyeon arrived to finish the job.
They had completely shut down the focal point of the counter.
And on both flanks, Anyang’s wingers were so busy dealing with Cha Jeong-woo and Ha Seung-pyo that even when they tried to join a break, those two simply ran them down.
The attacking units that had been tearing into each other earlier were now smothered by defensive structure and the work of the back line.
Time drained away without meaning.
Tweeeet! Tweeeet! Tweeeeeeeeeet!!!
The whistle blew.
“And it’s 2–1! Seongjin Hanul FC defeat Anyang Purples and advance to the next round!”
“What a side Seongjin Hanul FC are! They completely nullified Anyang Purples—one of the stronger teams even in K League 1—and took the win!”
“If they come up to K League 1 next season, you almost have to be excited about them, don’t you!?”
It was pure luck that Feltner didn’t understand a word the commentators were saying.
Why?
Because right now, Feltner was furious.
Clasp!
“Good game.”
“Good game.”
Whether he knew Feltner spoke no Korean or not, Anyang Purples’ manager Yu finished the exchange with a brief handshake and a greeting, then headed back inside.
After that I sent the players into the locker room and gave them a short dressing-down.
“We won, but those weren’t opponents you couldn’t break down. You know that, right?”
The result itself was satisfying. The process was not.
These boys were clearly capable of more, and yet the match had only gone this far. They still weren’t drawing one hundred percent out of themselves.
That was why I’d limited it to a brief lecture.
Of course, I had my own share of the blame. I had misjudged Anyang Purples as a side and issued the wrong man-marking instructions.
The self-critique could wait. For now, we would enjoy the win.
“Even so, I’m proud of you. Most of you weren’t even professionals before I arrived, and the ones who were came from a mid-table second-division side at best. Today you beat a top-half first-division team.”
Once the interpreter finished relaying my words, every face in the room brightened.
“All right. Go home, rest easy, and report for recovery training tomorrow. Clear?”
““Yes!!””
“Good. Let’s go!”
With that, I boarded the bus with my players, my coaching staff, and the interpreter.
And I sent Schepin a message.
Had she already been looking at her phone? Schepin answered the moment I sent it.
I’d gotten a firm yes. One more player, then.
This time I would cast the net wider—not just the college ranks, but overseas stages and Seongjin Hanul FC’s own youth setup as well.
Search everywhere. Leave nothing unchecked.
