BVB Dortmund - 1
Three days had passed since Choi Gi-hyeon, who had been abandoned at Dortmund Airport, made his own way to the Dortmund stadium.
Once the fatigue from the long flight had eased somewhat, I headed to the hospital designated by Dortmund for my medical test.
One might wonder why a medical test for someone who wasn't even transferring, but to prevent any potential accidents, youth players underwent them every two years.
For reference, I'd had one when I first joined the Geum-sun High soccer team. Geum-sun High had arranged it at a hospital connected to the chairman, but I had no idea how other schools handled it.
"Jinho! Come on in!"
Anyway, when I arrived at the Dortmund medical center, scout Jurck Fry, who had apparently insisted on bringing me here after watching my game live, greeted me with a smile and a handshake.
"Guten Tag."
I shook Jurck Fry's hand and greeted him in German, which I'd learned from my private tutor.
"Guten Tag. (Good afternoon.)"
After my awkward pronunciation came the smooth native response.
...Hmm. Pretty close.
Whatever. Even if it wasn't perfect, it didn't matter as long as he understood. Language was just a tool for communication, a mutual agreement. If the German guy got my German, we were good.
"Come this way. First up is the blood test."
Anyway. Following scout Jurck Fry, the full medical test began. Blood work, ECG, height and weight checks. X-rays, footprint pressure tests, hearing, vision, nerve exams, and countless others.
"Height 176.3 cm, weight 72 kg. That's 0.8 cm taller than the records from the soccer association."
"Won't too much growth hurt his agility and stamina? How tall do you think he'll get?"
"Looking at the growth plates, probably up to 182 cm if he keeps going."
"Hmm... That shouldn't put too much strain on his legs."
"Oh, no need to worry about injuries. His muscles are protecting his knee ligaments excellently, and the muscle condition is top-notch. The muscles themselves are so flexible that injury risk is remarkably low."
"What about cardiopulmonary endurance?"
"Outstanding. He's got match-ready stamina right now."
As the results came in one by one, the Dortmund staff grew visibly excited, chattering away.
Heh heh...
I smiled watching them. It made all the training worth it. Ever since regressing, I'd built my regimen on future sports science knowledge. Even though I wasn't done growing, my body was already at prime condition levels.
That said, they claimed to be broke, but the facilities are nice.
As I looked around curiously, Jurck Fry approached.
"Jinho! Bundesliga opener tomorrow—thinking of coming to the game?"
He was treating a mere youth player a bit too well, but whatever.
It wasn't burdensome. They were giving me special treatment because I was good—if I wasn't, they'd ignore me. Knowing how harsh society could be, I made my demand confidently.
"Can I get three tickets? Got people to bring."
Might as well go big and snag some for Mother-in-law and Gyeowol too.
Gi-hyeon? He was buried in reports these days.
"Of course. I'll get them for you—just wait a sec."
A short while later, I pocketed the tickets from Jurck Fry and headed home whistling.
August 23, 2010. Borussia Dortmund vs. Leverkusen kicked off at Signal Iduna Park.
I'd come with Gyeowol. Mother-in-law was busy furnishing the house, so we'd catch the next one together.
"Heja BVB, Heja BVB, Heja, Heja, Heja BVB!"
Even before kickoff, the stadium echoed with Dortmund's anthem. We stared blankly at the fans belting it out fervently. I knew Dortmund tickets were cheap, but a packed house of 80,000 was overwhelming.
"Heja BVB, Heja BVB, Heja, Heja, Heja BVB!"
Honestly, seeing the supporters' passion, it was hard to believe this club was on the brink of financial ruin.
That's why they say the city of Dortmund is BVB.
As the players entered, the south stand—Die Südtribüne in German—unveiled a stunning card section display from the Dortmund fans.
The Südtribüne was all standing room for 25,000, and the passion pouring from there was what made Signal Iduna Park hell for away teams.
"Whoa..."
Gyeowol let out an awed gasp at the perfectly synchronized 25,000-card show.
...Thump.
...My heart wasn't much different. The moment I saw the Südtribüne, I wanted to be down on the pitch right then.
Anyway, maybe because of the crowd's fire—the stadium felt scorching hot.
And then...
"Booooooo─!!"
Dortmund lost 2-0 at home to Leverkusen.
"Jinho! Fire over there! What do we do?"
"Calm down—it's not fire, it's just flares."
Signal Iduna Park was literally ablaze now.
"We're off!"
"Have a safe trip!"
"Bring back some Melona on the way home!"
The day after Dortmund's opening loss, I left with Gyeowol and Mother-in-law seeing me off.
Today marked the official start of my soccer study abroad. I'd passed the medical yesterday and was supposed to join then, but Dortmund's U19s had a youth match the day before, so it got pushed.
"Guten Morgen."
I greeted the German groundskeeper and headed in.
"Guten Morgen."
The keeper smiled back, probably impressed by a young East Asian kid trying German. I looked around the Borussia Dortmund Brakel's training center. It housed fields from the first team down to the U-9 kids.
Gathering all the fields together was likely to motivate the prospects.
Or just easier to manage.
Unlike Korea, the kids training here looked genuinely happy. They were enjoying soccer.
Part of it was the varied, game-like drills to keep it fun.
But fundamentally, training volume differed. Korea ran 2-3 times more than Germany. Dortmund—or German—youth did 2-3 sessions a week for U12s, 3-4 for U15s.
Korea? Five or six days even young, seven if no matches.
Dortmund aimed to develop youth; Korean teams chased results. Consequently, many Korean prospects hit the surgeon's table from overwork by pro debut.
A bittersweet reality.
Whatever.
"We've got a new friend from far-off South Korea. Everyone, give him a warm welcome."
I joined Borussia Dortmund Jugend U-19. By age, I'd fit U-17, but as always, natural grade-skipping.
"Nice to meet you."
After a quick intro, training kicked off. Warm-ups together.
"Jinho! Over here!"
Then we split into three groups for personalized drills.
Hmm... Not bad. Similar to what I'd done.
"Jinho!"
I took the coach's pass and fired it across—right on the mark. The Germans' impressed faces made me chuckle.
That kid doesn't belong here, no matter how you slice it.
Dortmund U19 coach Hannes Wolf watched Son Jinho closely during training.
He'd expected some awkwardness on the first day, but Jinho blended in instantly, laughing and chatting despite the language barrier—communicating through gestures alone.
Hmm. Thought he'd need time to adjust, but he's good to go for Sunday's match.
Watching Jinho lead naturally with body language, Hannes Wolf nodded.