2004-2005 Season Kickoff
I turned seventeen.
Four years had already passed since I joined Barcelona. A lot had happened in that time, and first among it was how much my skills had grown. Of course, it wasn't only me—Messi, Jorge, and Iniesta had all come a long way as well.
Jorge had already cleared 190 centimeters and was staring down the mid-190s. His muscle mass had exploded even further; I was starting to believe there wasn't a single player left who could beat him in a physical duel. Messi was shedding his baby fat, the face I remembered from my previous life beginning to show through, and his ability was rising right alongside it. Iniesta had made his first-team debut for Barcelona back in 2002 when we were still fifteen, and by 2004 he was already practically a regular. From this season on, I was sure he would lock down a full-time starting role.
As for me, I had finally assembled every tool a striker needed: aerial ability, physical strength, shooting, passing, heading—and above all, clinical finishing. That overwhelming package earned me a promotion to the first team alongside Messi. And there, in the first team, I reunited with the legend himself, Iniesta.
In the years between, his hairline had retreated even further. There wasn't a single strand left up front.
"This is my girlfriend."
"Nice to meet you."
The Iniesta who stood before me now had a girlfriend. Yeah—no hair and no girlfriend would have been a little rough. The woman who introduced herself as Jessie was a beauty with fiery red hair and amber eyes.
"Hello."
"I've heard a lot about you from Iniesta."
"Is that so?"
"He said you're a close friend."
"That's right."
Iniesta, who had been listening the whole time, draped an arm over my shoulder and whispered into my ear.
"I've got a girlfriend now too."
"So you do."
My flat reaction left him looking a little dejected. He must still have been holding onto the time I'd teased him for not having one.
"Anyway, we're off on a date."
His spirits recovered in an instant; he took his girlfriend's hand and left.
Man… I miss Jieun.
Watching Iniesta with his girlfriend made me ache for her, so I headed straight home.
"What's with you? Why are you back so early?"
Jieun was watching TV in the living room.
"…Why aren't you saying anything?"
"I missed you."
"Huh…?! Out of nowhere?"
Her gaze dropped, her index finger twirling the tip of her hair, ears turning scarlet. The sight pulled a smile onto my face all by itself.
"Does there have to be a reason?"
"Well… I guess not……?"
"Oh, and just now I thought of something I want to do."
"What?"
"Let's go on a date."
"Huh?"
Surprise flashed across her face at the sudden proposal, but she recovered quickly and pressed on.
"Okay. I don't know why you're doing this all of a sudden, but let's go! On a date."
Today was the opening day of the 2004–2005 La Liga season. Barcelona's first opponent was Real Betis. Betis was no pushover, but they didn't have the firepower to beat Barcelona either. Sure, upsets happened in football—but that was exactly why they were called upsets. Still, the first match of the league set the tone for everything that followed, so Barcelona would throw everything they had into it. A full-strength Barcelona was a world-class side; I expected a comfortable win.
Before Barcelona and Real Betis kicked off, Real Madrid faced Getafe. Everyone expected a Real Madrid win, but the result was shocking. Real Madrid fell 2–1 to Getafe.
"Real lost?"
Messi said, eyes wide after hearing the score.
"Yeah. 2–1."
"Wild."
He sounded oddly calm.
"You're not as surprised as I thought."
"Well… Real losing is unexpected, but upsets always happen."
"Exactly, Messi. Upsets can strike anytime. That's why you've got to train your muscles."
Jorge—who had turned into a full-blown gym rat over the past four years—flexed as he spoke.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Jorge just smiled at Messi's question.
"Build muscle and you turn losses into draws and draws into wins."
He showed off arms that looked ready to burst.
"Hmm. I don't think I need that much, Jorge."
"No, Messi—you need to build muscle."
Jorge grabbed Messi's arm.
"You might make your debut tomorrow, so let's go train, Messi."
"Ah—if I overdo it I could be sore tomorrow."
Messi tried to wriggle free with the muscle-soreness excuse, but it didn't work on Jorge.
"We'll keep it light."
He hauled Messi to his feet and headed for the gym equipment.
"Where do you think you're going? Junho, you're coming too."
I'd been trying to slip away unnoticed, but of course I got caught.
"Fine, fine. Let's go."
I already knew that even if I refused, the ending would be Jorge dragging me along, so I just fell in behind him.
La Liga Matchday 1: Barcelona vs. Real Betis. Both sides fielded every available player for their league openers, and Barcelona kicked off.
From the first whistle Barcelona kept the ball and poured on the attacks. Carles Puyol won his duel at the back and fed Xavi Hernández ahead of him. Sensing the immediate pressure from behind, Xavi didn't force it—he simply laid the ball off to Iniesta beside him. Iniesta shrugged off the closing defender with a light touch, then slid a through-ball into the path of Samuel Eto'o. The pass was inch-perfect; Eto'o controlled it cleanly and claimed possession.
Beautiful touch from Eto'o!
Defenders swarmed him, but Eto'o simply rolled the ball to Rafael, who was making a run into the space. Joaquín lunged to intercept; the ball slipped past his outstretched leg.
Rafael shoots!
The moment the space opened, Rafael struck first-time. Barcelona fans in the stands rose as one, certain it was a goal—
—but Real Betis goalkeeper Antonio Domínguez produced a lightning-quick reaction and tipped it away.
Saved by Domínguez! Domínguez keeps Real Betis alive!
When Domínguez denied Rafael, I could only let out a sigh from the bench.
"He actually saved that."
If that shot had gone in, the rest of the match would have been so much easier. Still, it was only the early minutes of the first half, so I shook off the disappointment quickly. Plenty of time left.
After Rafael's effort, Barcelona kept hammering away but couldn't find the net. As the minutes ticked by, the momentum slowly began to tilt toward Real Betis. Then, in the 45th minute, with the tide fully turned, Puyol was dispossessed.
Joaquín wasted no time; he looked up and played the ball forward. The pass found Real Betis striker José Mari perfectly.
Dangerous! Barcelona need to get back!
José Mari drove the ball at full speed into Barcelona's half. Juliano stretched out a desperate arm to foul him, but only clawed empty air.
One-on-one!
Only Víctor Valdés stood between José Mari and the goal. Valdés rushed out to close the angle, but José Mari stayed ice-cold, sold the keeper a dummy, and skipped past him. With Valdés beaten, no one remained between José Mari and the empty net.
Real Betis fans leapt to their feet in ecstasy while Barcelona supporters clutched their heads. José Mari stroked the ball into the unguarded goal. The net bulged.
It's in! Against every prediction, Real Betis have taken the lead!