Chapter 101
Chapter 101
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: Because It's There, Now It's Gone -4
-----------------------------------------------------------------
‘This is a completely different team.’
That was the common thought shared by the AC Milan players and their manager, Stefano Pioli, as the first 45 minutes came to a close.
It was their third match against Fiorentina in just one month.
The month before, and then the week before last.
In those two matches, Milan had won 2-0. They had dominated, conceding not a single goal over the full 180 minutes.
And yet today, they had already conceded two goals within 45 minutes.
Well, one could argue that such things happen.
Keeping a clean sheet in previous games is no guarantee of one in the next—that's just the nature of football. It's a sport where even the strongest teams can concede to the weakest.
But the problem wasn't simply that they had conceded two goals. The real problem was what lay behind it.
The problem was their performance.
The team's performance itself was completely different.
Of course, the return of their key ace, Lee Jee-an, was likely the cause of this change.
Football is a sport played by 11 men, but sometimes a single player can completely turn the tide.
Both of today's goals were heavily involved with that same Lee Jee-an, so it was understandable that there was a difference from the previous two matches.
But for the performance of the other players to change so drastically, from heaven to earth, was something he simply couldn't comprehend.
This wasn't about the overall team performance.
It's common for a team to receive a huge boost when a key player is added—a single, crucial cog can make the whole machine run.
But this was not that.
Today's Fiorentina players... not only their team movements, but their individual performances were on a completely different level from the last match.
In other words, they were just different players.
That's why the Milan players were so bewildered.
What on earth was the reason for this?
Ahi ahi ahi-!
Magica Viola-!!
As they headed for the second half, the steps of the AC Milan players were heavy as they walked onto the still-booming field.
*
The difference between walking a long distance knowing the destination and walking it without knowing is enormous.
For example:
A person who can run no more than 3km without stopping could, if they knew the finish line was at 3.5km, summon superhuman strength and somehow push on for that extra 0.5km.
But if they run without knowing where the finish line is, they will simply give up at their limit of 3km.
It's a given.
The psychological state of a person who knows they are just 500m from the end is different from that of a person who runs blindly without knowing where the end is.
The difference, in the end, is hope.
The difference between having the hope that you can make it, and not being able to see the end at all.
Depending on whether that hope exists or not, humans—the animal that they are—can produce entirely different performances even as the same individual.
"Gather 'round."
As halftime was drawing to a close, Fiorentina's captain, Biraghi, called the players together.
Soon, players in their uniforms and players in their fluorescent vests all gathered around him, regardless of their roles.
Everyone linked arms, leaned in slightly, and listened intently as Biraghi spoke.
"You've all felt it. It's different from the last game. We're different, and the opponents have changed too."
Everyone nodded.
They had all felt it with their bodies.
That it was different.
Everything was different from the game two weeks ago, and from the game last week.
The atmosphere of the stadium, the expressions on the opponents' faces, their movements, their spirit.
They felt with their bodies that everything had changed.
However, in truth, there was only one thing that had changed between then and now.
And that one thing had changed everything.
"We can win. No, this is a game we must win. That's how I feel. This is a game we have to win."
Whether you have the hope that you can win or not.
A comrade who creates that hope simply by his very existence is with them now.
That's why they didn't feel like giving up.
"Let's be clear on just one thing. Let's make sure we don't get eliminated even if we win. Defense. Let's fight with our lives on the line to keep a clean sheet. If we do that, it's a game we will win."
"SÌ!"
At the powerful response from everyone, Biraghi nodded and said, extending one hand forward.
"We are going to Rome."
The Coppa Italia final is held at the Stadio Olimpico in Rome.
Therefore, the team's captain, Biraghi, wanted to turn the ship's bow toward the final.
At his command, every crew member rowed with one heart.
"Uno, due, tre!"
Following the count, the players stretched their clasped hands toward the sky and shouted.
"Andiamo a Roma (To Rome)─!!!"
The Fiorentina players, their eyes filled with a faith that bordered on madness, swarmed onto the field.
*
Paang-!
Theo Hernandez's pass goes toward Rafael Leão.
Leão catches the pass with the outside of his foot and continues to control the ball with the outside of his foot as he approaches the box.
Then, in an instant, he slips inside and strikes the left side of the box.
Bwooong-!
A shot that makes your spine tingle stretches out, but thankfully, it just barely misses the goal.
At the frustrating shot, Leão kicks the turf and lets out a frustrated roar.
"Focus! Focus!"
The mood from the end of the first half continued right into the second.
Our opponents, needing just one goal, were coming forward a little more aggressively, and we were giving our all to stop them.
It's hard to even count how many shots have threatened our goal already.
What's certain is that whether it was a shot on target or a shot that missed by a few centimeters...
Shots that made our blood run cold were raining down on our goal, and not a single one of them had shaken the net.
Looking at the scoreboard, I see that the time has passed like this without me realizing it.
But only the number on the clock has changed; the score has not.
Considering that two-thirds of the 35 minutes of the second half have been spent on the opponent's attack, it's a relief, in a way.
Anyway, while I haven't had many opportunities in the meantime... I'm focusing on what I can do and what I need to do even when I don't have the ball.
Tat-tat-!
As we prepare for a goal kick, I roll the ball slightly as if I'm about to head into the space behind their defense, and the opposing defenders flinch.
The player closest to me, Tonali, actually takes a few steps before walking back to my side.
If you think about it, it's a bit mean—both my teammates and the opposing players are just people living their lives doing the same thing, only wearing different uniforms.
But we have to divide the winner from the loser today, so it can't be helped.
We have to deceive and be deceived.
The manager told me to stay in a high position in the second half to draw the attention of the opposing defense.
He said it's a better position than participating in defense from a low position.
Because just by being in a high position, the opponent can't raise their line.
However, that doesn't mean I can just stand around doing nothing, and since most of the time was spent on our defense...
I'm doing my best to catch the defenders' attention as well.
I've always been taught that strikers must disappear from the defense's sight, but I'm learning that there are times when you need to attract attention.
So, while I feel a little sorry for the opposing players who take several steps in vain with just one of my steps, I'm just doing my duty as a Fiorentina striker.
Tat-tat-tat-!
I wander near the half-line and make a noisy roll of the ball again.
And this time, I really accelerate toward the front.
To deceive the opponent, you must mix sincerity in among the countless lies.
Why does Jiu suddenly come to mind here?
Bwooong-!
I make the start, and a pass flies in, albeit a little late.
A lofted pass toward the left flank of the opponent's territory.
Even though I've grown to a height of 180cm, it's not a particularly tall height compared to the opposing defenders.
Aerial duels aren't just about height, so my competitiveness in the center is still negligible.
"I'll knock it down!"
It's up to our senior Saponara to win the header where the ball will drop, and I head to a position where I can pick up that ball.
Paaaaang-!
Soon, the ball hits the head of our leaping senior and flows into the space behind their full-back, and it comes to my feet as I run into that space.
Tock-
I trap the ball with the outside of my right foot and casually turn my head to get a wide view of the field.
By the time we've come this far, I thought all my teammates would have pushed up, but that's not the case.
Only our senior Saponara and our senior Sottil, who returned as a substitute, are positioned near the box.
The others are holding their positions, which makes me feel that their mindset is that preventing a goal is more important than scoring right now.
The thought of creating an outlet for these teammates wells up inside me.
I'll create an outlet.
Tock, tock-
I hold the ball at the center of my body as I approach the opposing full-back who is blocking my path.
He waits with his posture lowered, his body angled so his front is facing my right side.
It means he's more wary of me cutting inside to the right, toward the center.
So I shift my body's center of mass significantly to the right.
Tat-!
Then, as if he's my mirror, the opponent moves to the right as well.
But I haven't touched the ball; I've only moved my body.
Tat-!
I fully extend my right leg, which is supporting my weight, and kick the ball to the left with my left foot, springing out.
The opponent, realizing the timing is already too late, stretches his leg, but it only swings through empty air.
Tat-tat-tat-!
I dribble the ball diagonally toward the left side of the penalty box.
I've beaten one man, but the box is still swarming with defenders.
Perhaps because of that, I see a large defender leaving his position to come out and meet me.
Seeing this, I continue to run toward the goal line...
The moment I feel the hot breath of the defender closing in.
Taht-!
I step on the brake with my right foot, and with my left, I wrap the ball, folding it so it goes behind my right foot.
Then I let the defender who was chasing me run past, and I take a large stride toward the ball as it rolls away.
Then, I lightly sweep the ball, slicing it with the inside of my right foot.
Bwooong-!
I don't know much about science.
So I can't explain theoretically why a ball with spin bends.
But I know how to create that phenomenon on the field.
The ball, spinning hard, heads as if it will miss the goal, then curves sharply and heads for the inside of the net.
Shwooooooong-
Smack-!!!
And the moment that ball shakes the net, I can finally run to the fans.
I was disappointed that I couldn't stand in front of the fans even after scoring two goals earlier, but now there's no reason to be chased by the clock.
Kwang-!
Was I such a violent person?
Without realizing it, I kicked an advertising board.
And toward the fans who are roaring at me, I too wave my arms and roar back.
We're just shouting at each other.
It might look like we're fighting to anyone who sees us, but this is just communication to confirm that we're on the same side.
*
I roll the ball around, focusing more on my hearing than my sight.
Fish-like players are rushing in from all sides, but to protect my prize, I flap around desperately, using everything from my tail to my fins.
It might look quite ridiculous, but I had to protect the ball first.
Tat-tat-!
Dodging a foot coming in from the right, I cut to the left...
Tat-tat-!
Dodging a leg stretching out in front, I scoop the ball and spin around backward.
Then I see a small opening and move there to survive.
Tat-tat-tat-!
But as I run, I realize something.
After spinning around like crazy, I've somehow ended up in a dead end.
I've reached the corner flag, and I can feel three or four players rushing in from behind.
I protect the ball with my body, focusing as much as I can on my hearing.
Then, when I can't hold on any longer and get pushed out, I grab the ball with my hands.
It wasn't that I wanted to protect the ball that badly, but a welcome sound reached my tilted ear.
Beep, beep, beeep-!
Not once, not twice, but three whistles blew.
That meant the game was over, and that we had won 3-0.
Bwooong-!
I've surprised myself many times today, and just like when I kicked the advertising board, I kick the ball high into the sky.
And beyond that, my teammates run toward me.
"Jee-an-!!!"
"We did it! We won!"
"It's all thanks to you!!"
Soon, I'm buried among my teammates and almost can't breathe, when suddenly the world opens up beneath my feet.
Is this what it feels like to be 3 meters tall?
My teammates have lifted me up.
Thanks to that, as I was breathing in the fresh air, I ended up choking on it.
"Guh-!"
The ball I had kicked high into the sky just happened to fall on the head of Romero, who was running late.