Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The Fear of Desperation -1
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I'm home···
"You're back? Why does your voice sound like you're half-dead?"
"Why do you think? I just got back from training."
"···Must have been tough today? Do you want to wash up first or eat first?"
"I'll wash up first."
Trudge, trudge.
After getting home and greeting my dad, my body, feeling like it wasn't my own, swayed as I put down my bag. I grabbed some fresh underwear and headed for the bathroom.
Splashhh-
"Phewww···"
As the warm water soaked my entire body, a shiver ran down my spine. It was a strange feeling, both exhausting and refreshing, hard to put into words.
I haven't felt this in a long time.
It's not a bad feeling.
Even if my situation is terrible.
"Ughhh···"
I washed up in three minutes, then spent the next ten minutes just standing there, spacing out under the water.
After drying off and leaving the bathroom, the smell of food wafted into my nose.
"Let's eat."
"Okay."
I threw a towel over my neck and sat down at the table.
Let's see what we have.
Today's menu is braised short ribs and shrimp risotto.
I wondered what kind of combination that was, but···
"Is it any good?"
"It's delicious."
It is delicious.
After all, it's a combination of meat and rice, so it's hard to make it taste bad.
Though my dad's hands have a mysterious power to sometimes fail even at foolproof combinations.
But today, it's genuinely good.
Guess anything tastes good when you're starving.
"Eat up. You need to put on some weight."
"Gulp, okay."
"Eat some salad too."
"I just ate some."
He tells me to eat more even though I'm already eating a lot.
Well, I do want to gain some weight myself.
I was already on the thin side, but I've lost even more weight since coming to Italy.
I'm the type who loses my appetite when I'm stressed.
Ah, to be precise, my weight has increased.
But that's because I've grown taller.
Visually, I look thinner now than I did three years ago.
When I had my physical exam a while back, I was 176cm and 63kg.
Even if I'm not the type to play with physicality, my current weight is almost at the critical line.
If I lose any more, I'll probably be flying around like a sheet of paper.
I can't show such a pathetic sight to Ji-woo, so I should start eating more from now on.
"Ji-an."
While I was fully immersed in my meal, my dad asked.
"Did you have some particularly tough training today?"
"No. Just the usual."
"Really? But you look really tired. And you're eating well."
"···."
I lifted my head slightly at his question, then buried my nose back in my plate.
The cautious tone of his question made me feel something like expectation, which made my stomach churn a little, but I didn't stop eating with my spoon.
Dad is fine.
I know he's just clumsy at hiding his emotions, not trying to put pressure on me.
"I worked hard."
"···Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Good job. But don't overdo it. You know not getting injured is the priority, right?"
"I know."
"Good. Eat some salad too."
"I told you, I just ate it."
Sigh.
With that, my dad and I focused on cleaning our plates.
······
"Alright, put on the vests. I'll give you five minutes, then the captain will lead a tactical meeting."
"Yes!"
Following yesterday, I sweated again today on the training ground.
The boring basic training.
But there's no conditioning training today.
That's because Thursdays are for mini-games instead of conditioning.
"Talk to each other a lot, run a lot. Don't forget to maintain the triangle formation, and······"
I listen to the briefing from the guy acting as captain as we put on our fluorescent vests.
The bench group plays a mini-game, while the starting lineup group plays an official 11 vs 11 match.
Usually, two players from the bench group get called up for that match, but I wasn't one of them.
I was secretly a little hopeful, but well···
It would be shameless to expect that after just one day of hard work.
For now, let's just focus on this mini-game.
"······And, Ji-an?"
"Yeah."
"You're the second forward, but the coach said to just run around however you want."
"Okay."
I nod at the words of the captain, who is younger than me.
The role distribution is no different from usual.
Every time we play a mini-game, the only instruction I get is to 'run around however you want.'
It's probably because the coach has little to no interest or expectations in me.
Especially since my Italian is still so poor that I can't understand even if the sentences get a little longer or have difficult words mixed in.
It must be a hassle to explain things in a way I can understand, so he just tells me to figure it out myself.
Usually, this was quite convenient and nice.
All I had to do was run around loosely and blend in.
But it's different now, so I need to be a bit more proactive.
Since I'm the second forward, a withdrawn striker, I should aim for attacking points.
Whistle-
With the whistle, the 8 vs 8 mini-game begins.
Seven field players per team, with the coaches in goal.
The field is a quarter the size of an official one.
With so many players for the field size, the rules prohibit excessive physical contact.
It's a good environment for me to shine.
Boom-
Boom!
The match starts with our team's kickoff.
The ball is quickly passed around from the back.
The space is narrow, so defenders can easily press up, and overall, the tempo is forced to be fast.
That means I have to be thinking even when I don't have the ball.
What play will I make to continue the situation when the ball comes to me?
I glance around to check the situation, and as the ball circulating in the back flows to the left, I move in that direction and shout.
"Hey!"
Boom!
I couldn't remember my friend's name, so I just called out generically, but thankfully, a ground pass comes flying in quickly.
For a moment, instead of looking at the ball, I quickly turn my head again to scan the surroundings.
I see a defender closing in right behind me.
···Okay.
As soon as I finish my quick calculation, the ball touches my right foot.
Boom-
Tak-tak!
I control the ball to the right with the outside of my foot, then quickly turn.
That single turn motion created more than three steps of distance from the defender who was right on my back.
It was possible because I had shifted my center of gravity to the left just before receiving the ball.
That action itself was a body feint and also served as the approach to burst out to the right.
Tak-tak-tak!
I dribble the ball and cut inside along the right half-space.
I drew one defender out of the line and shook him off with a good turn, but···
The space is still narrow, so another defender quickly blocks my path.
Defenders are closing in from all directions.
As I said earlier, I was already thinking about my next move, so I could make a quick decision before the defenders could completely surround me.
Boom!
I pass the ball forward.
There, our team's first forward (center forward) is positioned with his back to a defender.
Shhh-
As my pass goes forward, the heads of the defenders rushing toward me turn.
It's obvious, but the ball captures the gaze.
Especially when the ball is moving.
Defenders' eyes are instinctively drawn to follow the ball.
And that split second when the defenders' eyes are fixed on the ball becomes the moment attackers can become invisible.
In other words, it means they lose sight of the man because their eyes are glued to the ball.
Tak-tak-tak!
I run past behind the defender as if stepping on his shadow.
And then,
Tak-!
The moment the attacker who received my pass pokes in a short through pass.
Tak-tak!
I burst out from behind the final defender.
Penetration using the blind spot in the field of vision.
This might be why they call a withdrawn striker a shadow striker.
Booooom-!
Whoosh-
Smack!
I finish with a right-footed shot that strikes the outside of the post.
The coaches deliberately didn't make an effort to dive, so I easily got a goal.
"Phew."
I lightly clench my fist once and return to the halfway line.
Honestly, I wanted to jump for joy, but I didn't show it.
After all, this is a goal anyone could have scored.
It's not like I scored because I'm particularly good.
There's nothing more unsightly than making a big celebration for a meaningless goal.
Also, in a mini-game, goals are scored frequently.
So it's too early to be happy with just one goal.
I need to score more.
Still, the goal I just scored gave me confidence.
Not the confidence that I might really be a soccer genius or anything like that.
It's more like I confirmed once again that when a person is desperate, they can produce abilities beyond what they normally have.
When I was in the whole team, I couldn't even pull off such a simple play.
In fact, it was similar even after joining this team.
It was probably because I was complacent and not desperate.
In contrast, now, just like when I was in Korea··· it's a situation where I have to do well.
"Left!"
"Back, watch out!"
Thinking about it now, it's a bit of a strange feeling.
Then and now, the situation is ultimately the same, but my feelings are different.
Back then, every single day felt like my blood was boiling with anxiety···
Now, it's more like all I can think about is that I have to get it done.
Well, of course.
What could be worse than being utterly humiliated in front of a friend?
······
The mini-game is played in four quarters instead of two halves.
Ten minutes per quarter.
When a quarter ends, there's a short break where players can be substituted or teams can be mixed.
It was when the second quarter had ended.
"Ji-an."
"Yes?"
"Take off your vest."
"Ah, yes."
The coach told me to take off my vest.
It seemed he was planning to send me to the other team.
I thought this was a pretty positive sign.
I had scored one goal in the first quarter and another in the second.
That's two goals in 20 minutes.
Thanks to those two goals, our team was leading 6-4, and our team's performance clearly felt superior to anyone watching.
And in this situation, they're sending me to the other side?
Mixing the teams is, of course, to balance them out.
Does sending me to the losing team mean they think our team's lead is because of me···? Am I getting my hopes up too much?
Anyway.
As I was taking off my vest and heading to the other side, running my own little hope circuit···
"No, no. Ji-an. Come over here."
"···Yes?"
The coach beckoned me with his hand.
So, he was telling me to get off the field entirely.
Uh··· I didn't expect this.
He's not sending me to the other team, he's taking me out completely?
What does this mean?
Did I get too greedy?
I did play a lot of individual plays, thinking I had to show what I could do.
I took shots in uncertain situations a few times, too.
Did he decide I was ruining the team chemistry?
As I was coming out of the ground, imagining all sorts of things···
"Ji-an. Go over there."
"···Yes?"
The coach says, pointing to the training pitch next to ours.
"···Over there?"
"Yeah."
The adjacent training ground the coach was pointing to.
It was where the starting lineup group was playing a practice match.
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