Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: I Want to Be an Adult - 2
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"Haaaahhh..."
I yawned so wide my jaw nearly popped as I stepped off the bus.
Man. I'm so sleepy.
Huuuuh...
I stretched my arms out wide, but the drowsiness still wouldn't leave me.
Why am I so tired?
I usually avoid sleeping on buses when I can, but today I was nodding off the entire ride here.
Probably because I had a restless sleep last night.
"Thank you."
I bowed to the staff member who helped with my luggage, then slung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the hotel.
After a trip of just over three hours, we finally arrived in Rome, our away game destination.
"You tired?"
"Ah, I'm fine."
"Let's get inside and rest up properly."
"Got it."
According to the seniors, away games in Rome are among the toughest domestic trips.
Partly because AS Roma is a pretty strong team, and especially because they don't match up well against us, making every game difficult.
Another reason is that Rome is the farthest destination we travel to by bus.
Actually, if you look at a map, Florence and Rome aren't that far apart.
Compared to cities like Crotone at the southern tip or Cagliari in Sardinia which is far out at sea, Rome is practically a neighbor.
But interestingly, the trip to Rome takes longer than going to Cagliari. Time-wise, at least.
That's because we take a bus to Rome, but fly to Cagliari.
So ironically, Rome is our most exhausting away game because it's not far enough to warrant a flight.
-I even got them to promise that if we make it to a conference, they'll arrange flights for Rome games. Sorry we let you down, disappointing seniors.
I don't know the details, but I know our team doesn't have that much money.
Compared to teams like Juventus, the two Milans, or Napoli.
Those teams have massive fanbases, which means huge sponsorships and success in many tournaments, so they're loaded. But we're not.
If we make it to the Europa Conference League, one of the European competitions, the club promised to increase flight support...
Last season we finished 13th and didn't get the ticket, so this year we're stuck taking the bus more often.
...With all that, do I really deserve such a high weekly wage?
There are just so many reasons I have to play well at soccer.
"Here. You know how to use the key card, right?"
"...Yes."
"Go on up and get some proper rest."
"Yes, thank you."
I got my room key card at the lobby, then took the elevator to my room.
The other seniors weren't tired and started chatting in the lobby, so I was alone.
I even get my own room today. Because I'm starting tomorrow. A single room is a privilege just for the starting lineup.
Feels a bit much for a rookie like me to get such luxury. But it makes me even more determined to play well tomorrow.
"Room 812... Room 812..."
The hotel layout is so confusing, I had to wander the hallway for ages to find my room.
Why is there a room 821 next to 807? Makes no sense.
"...There it is."
I finally found room 812 at the end of the hallway and went to open the door, but now the door itself is a problem.
Why give me a card instead of a key?
I don't see anywhere to insert or swipe it...
*Beep*
...Ah.
You just hold it up to the sensor.
I scratched my head as I entered the room.
...
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes."
"How's your condition? Nothing bothering you?"
The coach came up to me in the locker room as I was preparing for the game and asked.
"Yes. I'm fine."
When I said I was fine, the coach nodded and started explaining my role for today.
I already knew everything from training, and he was just confirming, but I still listened intently.
"You understand?"
"Yes. I understand."
"Good. I'm counting on you. Let's go with confidence."
After the coach left, I kept muttering to myself, going over the tactics in my head.
What kind of soccer Roma plays, who I need to watch out for, how to attack them, etc.
I have it all memorized by now, so I don't really need to review, but I needed to focus right now.
To be honest, my condition isn't that great.
Compared to last week or the week before, my body feels heavy. Like I've already been running for about 20 minutes.
I told the coach I slept well, but I actually didn't sleep properly last night. My body feeling heavy is probably because of that.
Maybe because I dozed off on the bus? Even though it was past bedtime, I couldn't fall asleep easily.
Of course, the tension and worry about today's game is a bigger reason.
I keep having distracting thoughts, my head is a mess.
So I needed to work out in my room, sweat a bit, and then sleep.
"Alright, let's go! Let's go!"
"Let's go!"
Anyway, that's not what I should be thinking about now.
The match is about to start.
The seniors shouted cheers and clapped as they left the locker room, and I followed behind them.
After waiting in the tunnel for a bit, we walked out onto the field with our captain leading the way.
Waaaaaah-!
As we exited the tunnel, a massive roar started to come in. A quick glance around showed nothing but burgundy waves. Here and there, things called "flares" were spewing thick smoke.
Our purple was only visible in a tiny corner of the stands.
This place, Rome's home stadium Stadio Olimpico, reportedly holds over 70,000 spectators.
The chants sung by tens of thousands of home fans felt like they were crushing us.
Definitely, the atmosphere looks tough.
I need to be extra sharp today in every way.
"Good game."
"Good game."
Eventually, I exchanged handshakes as I passed by the opposing players.
I didn't make eye contact with them, just looked at their hands as I shook them, but I did make eye contact with one player.
Number 7, Lorenzo Pellegrini.
I heard his name so much during training that I wanted to see his face.
Up close, he looks about 10cm taller than me, and pretty tough-looking.
He stands out to me because he plays the same position as me.
The middle spot in a 4-2-3-1 formation.
An attacking midfielder or a second forward.
Thanks to that, I'm destined to be compared to him all day today.
Because who contributes more to the attack will change the flow of the game.
Of course, it won't be easy.
I heard Pellegrini is a really great player.
He's Roma's ace right now, and he supposedly makes up most of their firepower.
For me to even be comparable to such a remarkable player, I have no choice but to run with 200% of my power.
I decided to focus my remaining 100% on defense.
The coach didn't give me any special defensive duties in the last game or the one before, but today was different.
He said I need to be the first one to stop Pellegrini from dropping deep to participate in the build-up.
So today, I have to run harder than ever.
After finishing handshakes with the opponents, I gathered with my teammates to shout cheers, and waited for the game to start with a deep breath.
*Whistle*
And the game started with the opponent's kickoff.
*Pass*
*Pass*!
The opponent started by slowly circulating the ball from the back.
Anyway, I kept my eyes only on their number 7 and moved.
If he moved up deep into our territory, that wouldn't be my responsibility anymore, but if he dropped down, I'd be the primary marker.
Since our plan was to not press high and wait to defend, I stayed near Pellegrini, ready to react to his movements at any moment.
Though he didn't seem to pay any particular attention to me, anyway.
I was having my own little cat-and-mouse game like that.
*Tat-tat-tat*!
"...!"
Pellegrini, who hadn't made any particular move, finally moved.
I immediately followed him.
Seeing him move toward the half-line, it seems he plans to drop down to help with the initial build-up.
I play that kind of play often myself, so I know how annoying it can be when the opponent does it. So I'll just do it back to him.
*Pass*!
I saw the opponent's center-back pass directly to Pellegrini.
The moment I saw that, I scanned the area once and closed in tight on Pellegrini's back.
My primary goal is to stop the opponent from turning immediately after receiving the ball.
The best way to do that is to get tight before the ball arrives, making him feel my presence.
The point is to make him psychologically uncomfortable.
That way he'll struggle to make a challenging choice.
*Tap*!
I get tight on his back, subtly push him with my hand, and bother him.
To be honest, I pushed him pretty hard, but he didn't budge an inch.
The opponent also reached back to block me, and that actually made me feel like I was the one being pushed back.
*Pass*!
Still, my defense must have created some psychological resistance, as Pellegrini, with his back to me, passed it back.
I succeeded in stopping him from turning immediately.
Seeing such a great player make a safe choice thanks to just my defense made me feel momentarily happy.
*Tat-tat-tat*!
But there's no time to be happy.
Because Pellegrini, who passed it back, moved again.
This time he moved to the left.
I followed him around, positioning myself.
And again, a pass came his way.
Again, I was about to get tight on his back while the ball was rolling...
"...Tch."
Unlike before, this time he pushed my chest with his back first.
Thanks to that, as I was pushed back, he received the ball and quickly turned.
Damn. If I had eaten one more meal yesterday, would I have been able to hold my ground?
Anyway, I lowered my stance, keeping about two steps of distance from him.
Even if I allowed him to turn, as long as I don't allow a forward pass, it's still okay.
"..."
I could see Pellegrini glancing around, looking for a pass.
But he probably won't find a good one.
I already knew my teammates' and opponents' positions, and I was standing in the only passing lane available.
If this keeps up, his only choice is to pass it back...
*Tat-tat-tat*!
Nope.
Pellegrini started dribbling straight at me. Does he plan to break through simply without complicating things?
I lowered my stance even more and focused my eyes on his two legs.
I heard his dribbling isn't that amazing. So I can definitely stop him.
As expected.
He glanced back at me, then kicked the ball to my right and ran.
He didn't make any fancy feints, so reacting wasn't difficult.
I quickly turned my body to the right, inserting myself into the path the ball took.
The ball had already passed, but as long as I block him...
"...Guh!"
...The moment I thought that, my balance broke and my upper body leaned forward.
I barely managed to catch myself with my hands so I didn't fall, but I'd already been completely pushed aside.
When I looked up late, I saw the number 7 on his back. He had already passed me and was dribbling up the field.
To think I had to allow a breakthrough just because I lacked the strength against such a simple, rough dribble.
"Che cazzo..."
Overwhelmed by that fact, a curse slipped out of my mouth without thinking.
*
I couldn't stop Pellegrini easily, but anyway, our defense was quite solid.
Occasionally, shots came from Pellegrini himself or from our opponent's striker Tammy Abraham, but we didn't easily let them past our goal line.
However, that was just a stroke of luck.
I had no choice but to keep running while feeling bad.
Since first allowing Pellegrini to break through, I allowed similar scenes several times.
I'd lose aerial duels or second balls and give up the ball, or I'd anticipate the direction of the dribble but my outstretched leg would be too short to reach the ball.
Even in the rare attacking chances we got, it was similar.
Every time I got the ball, Pellegrini interfered with me in the exact same way.
He withstood or broke through my defense with his body, but I couldn't do it.
So I had no choice but to think more, and run one or two extra steps.
After finally breaking through him a few times and successfully passing forward, I couldn't even lead to any threatening scenes.
As a result, I felt drained, thinking I had only worn down my own stamina.
"..."
To be honest, it was frustrating.
If I had been caught off guard, I could reflect on it, but knowing everything and still getting beaten made me angrier.
Really, it was a frustrating first half in many ways.
*Whistle, whistle*!
Anyway, the first half ended 0-0.
As a team, we had a fairly successful first half.
But I still walked off the field fuming.
If I had met him just two years later, no, even one year later, I wouldn't have been pushed around like this.
If I had met him when I was an adult, I would have won.
It's really frustrating. Just in terms of skill...
"..."
Muttering to myself like that, I suddenly startled myself.
Just now, I definitely thought this.
If it's just soccer skill, I seem to be better, so it's frustrating.
"...Hah."
I let out a rough breath and headed for the locker room.
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