The Nation Calls
If you’re good at soccer, the country takes you.
Every soccer player wants one thing above all else. Well, every player in the vast majority. And that thing is a spot on the national team.
Reaching the national team isn’t something you achieve by being merely competent. To be selected for the senior squad, a player must rank among the twenty-three best in the entire country. In nations where the overall level of play is exceptionally high, earning that call-up is brutally difficult. South Korea, however, still counts as one of those “quite strong” football nations—at least for now.
With a youth system that is better than most people realize and an ever-growing number of players breaking into European leagues, the bar for national-team selection keeps rising. In K League 2—especially at a club like Seongjin Hanul FC—a national-team call-up has always been nothing more than a distant dream, something you admire in pictures but never expect to touch.
At least, that was how it was supposed to be.
“Shepin.”
“Yes, Feltner.”
“We’ve received a national-team call-up request.”
“……What did you say?”
A national-team call-up request. The words sounded so unreal that I wondered whether I had misheard the German. I asked again.
“A national team? For us?”
“Yes, Shepin.”
“The national team that represents an entire country?”
“Strictly speaking, it’s the national football associations making the requests, but… yes, that is the situation.”
I asked several more times, unable to shake the sense that none of this felt real, yet Feltner answered calmly, as if he were discussing the weather.
“Four players have been called up this time. Kang Si-u and Cha Jeong-woo to the U-23s, Baek Hyeon to the U-20s.”
“Ah… U-23 and U-20…”
“And Yun Seo-jin has also been selected for the U-20s.”
Only then did it begin to make sense.
Unlike the senior national team, the U-23 and U-20 squads are not quite so impossibly selective. “Quite competitive” is probably the fairest way to put it. If you’re simply the best player in your age group, you still have a realistic chance. In Korea, most players of that age are still competing in university leagues; only the truly exceptional few ever make it into the professional K League or K League 2. The current Korean U-23 and U-20 pools lack the kind of once-in-a-generation talents that used to appear like clockwork—the La Masia graduates or world-dominating prospects—so the selectors naturally turn first to the players already performing in the professional leagues. That explains why Kang Si-u and Cha Jeong-woo, who have been tearing through K League 2, caught their eye.
Still, a few questions lingered in my mind.
“Couldn’t Kang Si-u have been called to the U-20s instead?”
“He could, Shepin. His birthday hasn’t arrived yet, so he remains eligible for the U-20s until this time next year.”
“Even so, sending him straight to the U-23s… that means he’s being rated far higher than I expected.”
Kang Si-u’s U-23 call-up was telling. Normally, even the most promising youngsters are kept with their own age group, especially if they have no prior youth-international experience. Skipping the U-20s entirely suggested that someone on the U-23 staff wanted to test him personally—someone among the coaching staff who believed he was ready for a higher level.
The current U-23 coaching setup is not exactly renowned for its quality. Some have gone so far as to call it worse than Myeong Jae-ho’s infamous regime. If even that staff had recognized Kang Si-u’s talent, then at least one genuine eye for talent must exist inside it. That was worth investigating. If the opportunity arose, I might even be able to bring that coach over to Seongjin Hanul.
Feltner, listening to my thoughts, offered a characteristically objective assessment.
“Shepin, I may not fully understand Korean sensibilities, but there is one thing I can say with certainty.”
“What is it?”
“Kang’s ability is even greater than you currently believe.”
“That good?”
“Yes. To put it simply, he would already be capable of playing in the 2. Bundesliga. If he moved to the Bundesliga itself, he would likely be a promising youngster given occasional substitute appearances. At the very least, based on my experience, he is good enough to establish himself in the second division—even while still growing explosively.”
“And yet people still fail to recognize that level of talent?”
“Indeed. It would be strange if even one member of this country’s national-team staff were thinking clearly. After all, we are talking about a player who has scored eighteen goals in eight matches in the second division before the age of twenty. Not noticing him would be the real surprise.”
……Hearing it laid out like that, our Kang Si-u really had been on an absurd tear.
“Thank goodness we locked him into a long contract.”
All the youth players I had signed were on deals of five years or more—precisely so we could sell them later at a premium.
“All right, that answers my questions about Kang Si-u. There’s still one more.”
“Please ask anything.”
Feltner remained impeccably polite. I turned to the question that had been bothering me most.
“Why was Yun Seo-jin selected?”
“If you mean Yun, it would be stranger if he hadn’t been chosen.”
“No, I still find it odd. Even if he’s been performing well, he only made his debut four weeks ago. They’re already calling him up—and not to the U-18s, but straight to the U-20s?”
I could have understood an U-18 call-up. At his age he would be eligible, and in K League 2 he currently leads the league in key-pass accuracy while ranking near the top in total key passes despite having played only four matches. But he is still a raw prospect who has never even been selected for a youth national team before. Calling him to the U-20s alongside Baek Hyeon instead of keeping him with his own age group felt… too perfect. Not strange at all. In fact, it was suspiciously normal.
I hate to say it, but I have very little faith in the majority of Korea’s national-team selection process. Most of the staff are either connected by personal networks or are sacrificial lambs and temporary placeholders. For one of them to suddenly make such an impeccably rational decision…
“……Feltner, would it be all right if I brought in a few more coaches?”
“My own staff is nearly complete, but if that is what you wish, I will gladly accommodate you.”
“Thank you, Feltner.”
……If necessary, I would have to poach them. Whoever had recognized both Kang Si-u and Yun Seo-jin was worth adding to our own ranks.
There were two ways to learn more about that coaching staff, but I preferred the quieter option.
“Feltner.”
“Yes, Shepin.”
“I’m sorry to trouble you, but could you call Kang Si-u and Yun Seo-jin for me?”
“Kang and Yun?”
“Yes. Everyone should be resting after lunch. Just those two, please.”
“Understood.”
“Have you already told the players about the national-team call-ups?”
Feltner shook his head.
“No. I came straight to you the moment I received the news.”
He looked quietly delighted. Of course he did—any coach would be proud to see his players selected for their country, and Feltner was the sentimental sort. Still, he had reported to me first out of respect for the players’ rest and a sense of duty to the person in charge.
“Feltner.”
“Yes, Shepin.”
“Tell the players about the call-ups, then send those two to me separately.”
“As you wish. I will take my leave now.”
“Keep up the good work, Feltner.”
Feltner bowed and stepped out. A long sigh escaped me before I could stop it.
“Haaaaah… the national team…”
The national team. In a way, it was the national team that had started my entire journey as the owner of this club. I had been so furious at the state of the senior side that I had decided to seize control of the Korea Football Association itself. And now, before I could even make my own move, my players were already being drawn into that world—faster and more dramatically than I had anticipated.
The players were growing, and they were moving forward at a pace that left me behind. I would have to keep pace. I could not allow myself to become the kind of owner who lagged behind his own squad.
But not yet.
My time to step into the spotlight had not arrived. I still lacked the foundation and the results. The results that would become my foundation were simple: promotion to the top flight with Seongjin Hanul. That achievement, and the name of Hanul itself, would become the base on which everything else rested.