National High School Soccer League - 2
Just before kickoff. After a light warm-up, I took my position on the pitch. Faint but clear cheers echoed from the stands.
"Son Jinho, fighting—!!"
"Our son-in-law, fighting—!!"
I turned toward the sound of my name. There, in the stands, were my father-in-law and mother-in-law.
I waved at them happily. They were truly grateful people. On match days, they came to the stadium in place of my late parents to cheer me on. It would've been great if Gyeowol could join them too, but unfortunately, it was 2010, a time when school was every other Saturday. Gyeowol had tearfully headed off to school. I recalled how she'd whined endlessly in our group chat about not being able to come cheer for me alone.
After whining for a while like that, Gyeowol finally quieted down once Mother-in-law promised to record the game.
She'd probably been waiting for that. Having achieved her goal, Gyeowol left me with a quick blessing.
Who the hell was the noona here...? Recalling Gyeowol's messages, I looked at the center circle. Two Hanyang High players were already there.
Come to think of it, back then, you had to kick the ball forward for kickoff, so two players entered the center circle.
It hit me anew how quickly soccer tactics and rules were evolving. While I stared in wonder at the two players in the center circle,
Beep!
The ref blew the whistle to start, and Hanyang High's striker in the red-striped uniform rolled the ball sideways before charging forward. The match had begun.
Hanyang High deployed a 3-4-3 with strong wing play and good forward pressing. We countered with an aggressive, possession-based 4-3-3.
The moment I saw their formation, I eyed their wing midfielders. With wings so crucial to their tactics, those two were probably Hanyang High's aces.
Hmm. They look kinda familiar.
Since they rang a bell, I'd probably glimpsed them in K League matches. Not sharp in my memory, so likely subs or second-stringers.
Still impressive as hell.
The odds of a youth player starting soccer young becoming a K Leaguer? 0.8%. Making it pro is brutally tough—proof of superior talent and relentless effort.
Or maybe insane talent with zero effort. Or average talent with near-death grind.
Either way, they were remarkable.
"Jinho!"
3rd minute of the first half. Geum-sun High's center back didn't just hoof it clear after stopping Hanyang's attack—he passed to me, just like in counterattack drills. Tense, maybe? The pass was a bit long and hard, but no biggie. I stretched my leg and nudged it with my toe.
Thong.
The ball kissed my toe and softly dropped to the grass.
"!"
Hanyang's #8, expecting a bounce, panicked and lunged clumsily. I shook him off easily—no Marseille turn, flip-flap, or nutmeg needed. Just a body feint. Green kids telegraph their tackles.
Shaking off #8 effortlessly, I turned to open space. Our #11 waved from the wing, sprinting.
Shit, I told you not to just bolt mindlessly.
My bad for expecting youth players to stick to tactics perfectly. Props to the center back for passing like in practice instead of clearing.
Train him right, he could debut pro.
Thinking of Geum-sun's center back Kim Jae-hyeon who'd passed to me, I accelerated into Hanyang's half.
The 3-4-3 shone in forward pressing but crumbled on failed presses—vulnerable to counters. Every pressing team shared that flaw. To cover it, you needed a monster center back. And monsters like that? Not in Korea—they're at European big clubs or academy powerhouses.
"Team defense!!"
Crossing midfield, Hanyang's penalty box in sight, their center back appeared. Another body feint fooled him. As I wound up for a mid-ranger,
Grab—!
Suddenly, my jersey yanked from behind. I went limp and fell back.
The ref, witnessing the foul up close, whistled immediately. I dusted off and set up the free kick.
About 23 meters out. Teen speed crushed a veteran's nearing retirement.
Youth really is a hell of a drug.
Pre-regression, it'd been 26 meters.
Beep—! The ref signaled. Hanyang's wall tensed. I jogged up slow, swung my right foot, striking the ball's lower center hard. Perfect instep contact—barely felt it.
"F-Fuck!"
No spin, it knuckled, dipping viciously over the keeper into the net. Unreal for high school. A wonder free kick. The keeper's blank stare at the net? Priceless.
"Whoa whoaaaaa—!!"
Geum-sun fans—parents included—erupted late in shock at the wondergoal.
Not to brag, but I'd scored a free kick against Germany in the World Cup. Earned big-club offers. Heard of Manggu? Top of their league post-regression, rising powerhouse.
"Yesssss—!! Jinhooooo!!"
Goal! I bolted to the corner flag. What celebration? Then it hit—Ronaldo hadn't debuted "Hoo!" yet. I spun my right index finger in the air, reached the flag, half-turned, crossed my arms, and roared.
"Hoo—!!!!"
From this moment, I was Hoo's creator. A twinge of guilt for stealing another's... but whatever.
Can't resist Hoo.
"Wh-What the hell's that retard celebration?"
"Retarded but cool!"
See? Instant buzz. Hoo's power. Problem?
"Hey, asshole! You Adebayor or what?! Why the fuck you celebrating here?!"
Wrong address. Too hyped as Hoo's first prophet. Eyes closed, calm, I flashed finger hearts apologizing to raging Hanyang parents. They responded by sticking thumbs between index and middle.
Hmm.
Not dead mom milk-suck mockery or pad rip—probably just chubby fingers botching the heart. Positivity it is.
Hanyang's coach couldn't hide his hollow smile. 30 minutes in, the game was over. Despite just half an hour,
7-0? Baseball would've been a mercy rule.
Not his kids' fault. Just one monster in Geum-sun's midfield.
He checked the familiar back: '10. Son Jinho?' Memory clicked. Star from last year's youth king-of-kings tourney lower half. Rich inheritance, many coaches eyed him. Till Geum-sun's Chairman Hwang stripped their souls.
One year... changed so much.
Skill aside, aura like a battle-hardened vet. Probably why he hadn't recognized at first—middle school vibe gone.
"Coach, no second-half tactics?"
"Tactics? Jinho's got it. Damn—see that pass? Sick!"
Hanyang's coach approached Geum-sun's beaming Choi Gi-hyeon for mercy. Never thought I'd beg. Hated beggars, but kids' near-tears faces...
"Coach Choi."
"Huh? Oh—Senior!"
Luckily, they knew each other.
First half, 30 minutes. Nailed 4 single Hoos and 3 double Hoos. 4 goals, 3 assists. Some might gripe a pro-vet going full throttle on kids. But competition's cruel. My body age? 17. Younger than them by 2 years. In growth spurts, that's huge. Fair game. No shame gazing at the sky.
"Son Jinho!!"
Then, touchline: Coach Choi Gi-hyeon called.
"Hey, ease up. Can't you see Hanyang kids' mentals shattered?"
Pointing at broken Hanyang players. I glanced over.
"…."
Their keeper, tears welling.
Oof. Overdid it?
I approached slowly, imparting life wisdom.
"Be good. Then Santa brings presents."
Who knows. Might spawn a status window.