Raiola's Blueprint and Rudiger's Backfiring Trap
The filming team arrived. ***
I began hashing out plans with Mino Raiola.
"Jinho, you know it's not easy for Man United to accept the conditions you've laid out, right?"
Mino Raiola said that for Man United to agree to my demands, they'd have to build the squad around me like they did with Lionel Messi.
"For now, just shine at Dortmund and prove your worth."
I nodded. That went without saying. Even if the contract gave me influence over the club, it all hinged on solid performance backing it up.
"Then, once you're at Man United, gradually expand your influence in the locker room. That old man Ferguson has to retire eventually, right? When he does, we can slip those clauses into the next contract..."
Well, Ferguson would announce his retirement after winning the league in the 12/13 season anyway, so it wasn't far off.
About two seasons from now?
Realizing Man United would soon plunge into the Mourinho era of darkness must have shown on my face as impatience.
"Jinho, I don't know what's making you so anxious, but you're still young. Play the long game."
I steadied my restless mind at Mino Raiola's words.
A few deep breaths later, all sorts of thoughts flooded in. How could I bring the Big Ear to Man United?
First off, the Glazer family would have to abandon their pure-hearted resolve to protect the team from Qatar's dirty oil money.
But that wasn't something I could control.
So I'd aimed to wield influence over signings, at least. That didn't look easy either.
Then maybe appoint a good manager. But would Pep or Klopp coming to Mourinho's Man United even make a difference...?
Oh, and for the record, I ruled out Tuchel. He'd almost certainly curse out the board and quit or get fired within six months.
"By the way, Jinho. When you transfer to Man United down the line, you planning to give up your own cut?"
I shook my head at Mino Raiola's question.
Normally, clubs love buying cheap and paying low wages to bolster the squad.
But don't forget—Man United isn't your average club.
If I transferred for peanuts and took a pay cut, would that extra cash get reinvested? I doubted it. The Glazers would just pocket it as dividends.
If they cared about football, they'd have upgraded the outdated training facilities or youth academy first.
And more importantly, a cheap transfer and low wages wouldn't do me any favors.
I hadn't experienced the EPL yet, and adaptation issues could crop up. I trusted my skills, but soccer's a team sport.
If problems arose during my adjustment, the only way to force the manager and director to play me would be a hefty transfer fee and salary.
"Nah, no plans for that."
Since I agreed with most of what Mino Raiola said without pushback, the conversation softened up.
We talked about all sorts of things, and when Erling Haaland's name came up, I asked about him.
"This Erling Haaland kid—is he really that good?"
"Even at his age, they're calling him a physical monster. At five years old, he broke the world record for the standing long jump in his age group."
"Whoa... So how'd you even discover a guy like Erling Haaland? He's barely ten."
"Heh... I go way back with his dad, Alfie Haaland. Alfie couldn't quite judge his kid's talent accurately, no matter how he looked at it. So he invited me over, and at his request, I watched Erling play soccer. Even at that young age, the kid held his own in physical battles with his older brothers. Really impressive."
I nodded as I listened to Mino Raiola.
Come to think of it, I recalled Alfie Haaland posting a similar story on SNS when he mourned Mino Raiola's death.
I remembered that Mino Raiola would die from lung disease thirteen years later. "Hmm... You ever think about quitting smoking or exercising?"
I asked cautiously, eyeing him. With his massive frame over 130kg and lung issues, yet famous for chain-smoking, I couldn't help worrying about his health.
"Oh~ Jinho! You too?"
"This isn't something to brush off as a joke..."
"Jinho. I'm plenty healthy."
But he shook his head firmly, and at his resolute refusal, I didn't press further.
Not long after signing with super agent Mino Raiola, the SBK filming team arrived in Dortmund, Germany.
"Damn, if I'd negotiated, I could've gotten you at least ten times the appearance fee!"
Mino Raiola grumbled lightly about the cheap broadcast deal before quickly making himself scarce.
Couldn't steal the spotlight from his client, or something.
Whatever.
"Hello! How've you been, PD?"
I greeted Kim Hyun-deok PD, who had a kindly face that instantly boosted likability.
"Oh! Son Jinho! Watched the AFC U-19 Championship. Congrats on the Golden Boot and MVP!"
Kim Hyun-deok PD welcomed me with a bright smile. Unlike that rascal Ki-hyeon, his face alone made you like him.
"Aigoo, long time no see, PD!"
Speak of the devil—the rascal Ki-hyeon came sprinting over from afar.
My former coach and guardian, "It's me" Choi Gi-hyeon, had agreed to assist with the SBK variety shoot.
"Ah! Heard about Coach Choi. You came to Germany with your star pupil for his big break?"
Kim Hyun-deok PD greeted even the rascal with a warm smile. A true man of character.
"Haha, well... The federation needed me, and Jinho here too. Of course I'd come."
Me? When? I shot Ki-hyeon an exasperated look at the ridiculous rumor-mongering, and he desperately blinked at me.
I sighed and nodded, lighting up Kim Hyun-deok PD's eyes.
That was the money shot, huh? Fair enough—it was a heartwarming story full of old-school romance.
"PD!!"
"Hang on!"
A staffer called for Kim Hyun-deok PD, who excused himself to manage the set.
"...You done with all your work?"
I eyed Choi Gi-hyeon.
"Of course. Turns out I'm a natural with paperwork."
I let out an involuntary gasp. Just yesterday, I'd wondered how he'd handle that mountain of documents.
And he'd cleared it in a day?
Even a worm knows how to roll. Ki-hyeon, you were more capable than I thought.
You shouldn't judge by appearances—I reflected deeply on rediscovering Ki-hyeon.
"Filming starts now!"
While I chatted with Ki-hyeon, prep wrapped up.
"Just pretend the cameras aren't there and go about your normal day!"
The real shoot began. ***
...Is there even enough footage for broadcast? Eh, whatever. PD looks thrilled, so it must be going well.
Days passed since filming started. The cameras, once awkward, now felt familiar just as Dortmund's break ended.
I finished school and headed to the Dortmund Bracel Training Center.
"Guten Tag, Ralf."
I greeted Ralf, the training ground manager, in somewhat fluent German.
"Guten Tag. Oh, your pronunciation's improved a lot!"
I smiled at Ralf's thumbs-up. Of course—AFC U-19 duties hadn't stopped my German studies. It'd be unfair if I hadn't progressed.
"Gino!! Long time no see!"
Entering the pitch, kids swarmed me with greetings. Not just U-19s—younger ones too. As a rare Asian face, I drew tons of attention.
"What's with those cameras anyway?"
"Told you, a Korean film crew's here."
"Ooo—! Gino! Superstar!"
Chatting with the kids at the entrance, I stepped into the Dortmund U-19 training area. There, Antonio Rudiger was grimly digging up the grass.
He'd spark plenty of controversies with his personality and diving, but no denying his skill as one of the world's top center-backs.
Dortmund recognized his talent too—hence a 17-year-old on the U-19 team.
Still, talent aside, he was just a prospect, rough around the edges.
"Tony—what're you doing?"
"Digging up grass?"
He'd had that cheeky spark since young, making him fun to watch.
"Grass? Why?"
"I've been analyzing our team's forwards' patterns. Dig here, and they'll trip high probability. Classic trap."
After diligently setting his trap, Antonio Rudiger tripped into it himself during the scrimmage, conceding a goal—and the cameras caught it all.