The Reason He Lost His Talent
I had meant to meet with student Yun Seo-jin, but a problem cropped up.
It was no small problem. It was a very big one.
“Seo-jin quit the soccer team.”
“Excuse me…?”
That was what the coach of Seongjin High School’s soccer team told us.
Feltner, who still barely spoke Korean, could not even manage a proper reaction to such absurd news. Of course he could not. He had not understood a word of it.
Part of me wanted to leave him in the dark. Just let him stay blissfully unaware.
Feltner looked ice-cold on the surface, but inside him burned a fierce flame. What would happen if a man like that ran headlong into a situation this ridiculous?
The faculty office would turn into a war zone. One hundred percent.
Fine. I would handle the conversation myself for now, then fill him in once we were outside the school.
“When did he quit?”
“Just last week. Honestly, Seo-jin is an outstanding student for an athlete. When he kept failing to lock down a starting spot, he finally switched his path to academics.”
“I see. Why didn’t he keep getting the starting role?”
“To be frank, Seo-jin’s body is far too weak for a competitive athlete. Hardly any muscle, and he’s small. He simply cannot survive physical battles.”
I already knew that much. Even someone as weak as me had looked at that frame and thought, If I play it right, I could probably overpower him with strength alone.
And yet, remembering the sense and passing ability Feltner had described, it still felt strange that they had shelved him as a player for a reason that thin.
“…Would it be possible for me to meet Yun Seo-jin myself?”
“I’ll bring him. Fortunately he signed up for summer-break special lectures, so he’s on campus. Would you mind waiting in the empty classroom next door for a moment?”
“Of course. Feltner.”
“Yes, Chefin.”
“The teacher is going to fetch player Yun Seo-jin. Let’s wait in the empty classroom for a bit.”
“Understood, Chefin.”
Feltner and I headed into the empty classroom together. The second we stepped inside, I told him everything about Yun Seo-jin—how he had already quit being a soccer player as of last week and was now focused on his studies.
Feltner’s face grew terribly grave.
“Feltner?”
“Forgive me, Chefin. This… is something I need to think about carefully.”
His unexpected reaction made me study him as I asked,
“Is there some kind of problem?”
“…Have you ever given up on anything, Chefin?”
Given up on anything?
…Embarrassing as it was to admit, in this life I had never really given up on much of anything. A second chance at life, an absurdly wealthy family, and then the runaway success of Hanul Invest on top of it. I had almost never abandoned anything I set out to do.
The closest thing was university, and even that felt less like quitting and more like skipping something I no longer needed.
“Nothing major comes to mind.”
“You really are remarkable in every way.”
There was a faint edge of sarcasm in the words, yet genuine envy ran through them too, so I could not press any further.
“Do you know what kind of player I was?”
“A perennial second-division man.”
“Yes. Exactly that. Perennial second-division. That label fits perfectly. When I finally walked away from playing and stepped onto the path of a tactician, do you have any idea what kind of pain I went through?”
I could not answer aloud. I only shook my head. But I thought I understood what he was trying to say.
“When a soccer player abandons the path he has devoted his entire life to, it comes with resolve and grief in equal measure. All the more so when it is not a proper retirement but a mid-career surrender.”
“Yun may already have discarded even his lingering attachment to soccer. I find it hard to casually urge that path on him again.”
“Because you know the weight and resolve that kind of surrender carries?”
“That is part of it. But honestly, the number of people who succeed as professional players is vanishingly small. I did discover immense talent in Yun, yet I cannot be certain that talent will lead to success.”
Hearing that, I decided to ask him outright.
“What is his talent like? Be honest with me.”
“Physically, I cannot say the specs are good. His body looks like it belongs with U-15 players, not U-18. But… his talent as a playmaker is unmistakably first-class. First-class enough to walk straight into a starting role in the fifth division.”
“And still you find it hard to recommend the life of a soccer player.”
“That is what living as a soccer player means. No matter how great the talent, no matter how outstanding, a single tackle in a single match can shatter an entire life. That, too, is the life of a player.”
I had no rebuttal left. Countless players flashed through my mind—men who had succeeded in one sense and failed completely in another. And the student coming to meet us, Yun Seo-jin, did not even exist in my memories as a soccer player. Before the regression he must have quit the sport and done something entirely unrelated.
Hearing all this only made my heart ache more, and at the same time left me more confused. What choice would be best—for me, for Seongjin Hanul FC, for the road I wanted to walk, and for Yun Seo-jin as a human being? Mixed into those thoughts was a quiet, simmering anger at the Korean coaches who kept letting gifted players slip through their fingers.
While all of it was still swirling inside my head—
Creeeak.
The boy walked in.
A little under 170 cm, a weight that looked like it needed to be compared to mine, a body no one would ever believe had trained as an athlete. I rose from my seat to greet the student named Yun Seo-jin.
“Hello, Yun Seo-jin. I’m Han Do-a, owner of Seongjin Hanul FC, the club affiliated with Seongjin High School.”
“Ah… yes…. Hello….”
A shyness that made it impossible to believe he had ever been a soccer player. Such a fragile-looking boy. Was it right to urge soccer again on this soft, gentle kid who had already given it up?
That thought was still running through my head when we shook hands, and then I realized. He only looked that way. This boy had walked the path of a soccer player long enough. The calluses set deep into his palm, the lean muscle faintly visible beneath the skin.
His height was still tall from my perspective—I myself fell short of the average for women—but that was not what mattered. Despite the small stature and shoulders that were narrow for an athlete, he looked sturdier than expected.
“A pleasure, Yun. I am Marco Feltner, head coach of Seongjin Hanul FC.”
I translated Feltner’s words once, and Yun Seo-jin immediately dipped his head in a polite bow of greeting. Seongjin Hanul FC already had a fair number of players who were still relatively unhardened and mild-mannered for athletes, yet Yun Seo-jin went beyond that; his manners felt almost painfully correct. The only problem was how tightly that politeness seemed linked to a lack of self-esteem.
Once Yun Seo-jin was seated, I asked him straight out.
“Yun Seo-jin. You’re a third-year high schooler who chose academics, so I know you’re busy. I’ll be direct. We need a playmaker right now, and we want to call you up for that role.”
“But I’ve… already left the soccer team.”
“Then we simply sign you as a player. Not a call-up. The transfer window is still open, so it’s entirely possible.”
Yun Seo-jin glanced around for cues, then finally looked at Marco Feltner and asked,
“Um… Why did you choose me?”
He had switched to English. Feltner looked pleased and answered in English as well.
“You have talent, Yun. Talent as a playmaker, talent as a passer. That talent will work not only in Korea but anywhere in the world.”
“I didn’t play a single match this season.”
“That is because you went unnoticed inside a broken system. I believe that when a talented player fails, it is because of the wrong tactics and the wrong system. I have prepared a system and tactics that fit you.”
Feltner opened the laptop he had brought and turned the screen toward us. On it was Seongjin Hanul FC’s 4-2-3-1 formation. The striking detail was that Yun Seo-jin’s name sat in the second-striker / attacking-midfielder slot that led the attack—even though Yun Seo-jin had been a defensive midfielder.
“From now on you will start your passes from this position, protected by the solid defensive midfielders behind you. You will become our heart, and we will become the bones that protect that heart.”
I glanced at Yun Seo-jin, wondering how much he had understood. I could see it clearly: the hesitation in his eyes, and the hope.
Then he turned to me and pleaded.
“Could you… give me just three days…?”
The transfer window closed in exactly one week.
“Of course. Three days is plenty. Here’s my number—contact me anytime.”
After exchanging contact information, I sent Yun Seo-jin on his way. Then I relayed the entire conversation to Feltner.
“Feltner.”
“Yes, Chefin.”
“There’s something I’d like to ask as well, if that’s all right.”
“Of course.”
At that answer I finally voiced the question mark that had been sitting on the formation screen he had shown earlier.
“…Jo Tae-ung listed as a winger. What’s going on there?”
Feltner gave a small, sly smile and answered with playful slyness.
“Let’s leave that as a little amusement for later, Chefin. Waiting for someone to appear in new clothes is always a pleasure.”