Liga Total Cup - 2
This year's Liga Total Cup 2011 was held entirely at Mainz's home stadium, the Coface Arena.
He'd felt it during the previous match against Mainz, but their home ground, which had just been completed the week before last, boasted an exceptionally sleek exterior.
"BVB! BVB! BVB!"
The stadium's atmosphere felt like a home game for Dortmund, with fans cheering them on.
"Whiiiiistle—! Dortmund kids! Run your asses off! Give Klopp the win!"
The reason was, of course, Jurgen Klopp. Before taking the helm at Dortmund, he'd played over 11 years for Mainz as a player, then served seven years as manager, leading them to their first-ever Bundesliga promotion. He was Mainz's living legend.
Well... after that, they got relegated, failed to promote again, and he stepped down voluntarily.
"Klopp! Come to our restaurant after the game! We'll treat you to an amazing dinner!"
"Damn it! That guy's trying to assassinate Klopp with his cooking!"
"No one here doesn't know your cooking sucks!"
"Klopp! Come to our house instead!"
Mainz fans showered unwavering affection on Jurgen Klopp, the man who'd led them to the dream stage.
"Boooooo! You rookies! If you're gonna play like that, just pack it up!"
Even with that backing from Mainz fans, the match against Hamburg wasn't easy.
Hamburg, having upset the powerhouse Bayern Munich in the last game to reach the final, brimmed with confidence.
"Get your heads in the game and defend properly!"
From the early minutes, they showed sharp play multiple times, threatening Dortmund's goal.
Especially Son Heung-min, who'd bagged a brace against Munich—his movement was on point.
Claaaang—!
In the 11th minute of the first half, Son Heung-min's shot smashed the crossbar, making Dortmund hearts skip a beat. If it had curved just a bit more inside, it could've been an early concession.
"Argh! Fuc— uh, hi... there?"
Son Heung-min, frustrated after the shot, locked eyes with me and gave an awkward wave.
"You can speak casually."
I approached, covering my mouth, and whispered. "Really? Nice to mee—"
Maybe thrilled to meet another Korean in the Bundesliga, he smiled and nodded, but then caught on to something off and added,
"...Wait, aren't I the older one?"
"That's why I'm telling you to drop the formalities—'cause you're the hyung!"
"...Is that so?"
Son Heung-min looked utterly baffled. Seeing that reminded me of the past.
—You've got the skills to make it abroad. No thoughts on going overseas? If you need help transferring, I'll hook you up.
I'd turned him down back then because I couldn't leave Winter, but his words had boosted my confidence, leading to better play. I'd always been grateful.
So in this life, I'd help him out.
'Gotta save him from Tottenham's no-trophy hell.'
I recalled his touching rise at Tottenham, season after season, culminating in a golden boot. I worried if other choices might alter the future, but...
—Sorry to interrupt, but our Heung-min would never be world-class.
Looking at his dad, I figured Son Heung-min would've grown right anywhere.
"Exactly. Anyway, hyung, if you're transferring later, training under Coach Klopp wouldn't be bad. He spots players' strengths and maximizes them."
That's why I rattled off the perks of playing under Klopp to Son Heung-min, starting the gaslighting.
"...Out of nowhere?"
His puzzled face gradually turned intrigued as he listened intently.
"Yeah, even Senior Cha Du-ri switched to fullback at Mainz and blew up... Ah!"
Just as I thought he'd come around soon, I remembered something crucial.
"Huh? What's up?" "Nah, just recalled something I forgot."
I needed to warn Lee Chung-yong about that Tom Miller prick, and block Park Ji-sung's Arsenal move.
It hit me anew: at this time, Korea's squad got shattered by bad choices and injuries.
Maybe the legendary senior team Japanese fans always hunted for was just an unbroken Korean national team?
Whatever.
"Hyung, let's swap numbers after the game." "Sure."
I promised to exchange contacts post-match with Son Heung-min and refocused on the game.
Mainz fans who'd come to cheer their legend Jurgen Klopp chatted while watching the match.
"Kinda nostalgic formation."
"Yeah, takes me back to Klopp's days."
Dortmund lined up in their familiar 4-2-3-1 from last season—the one Klopp loved at Mainz, so it rang bells for the fans.
Hamburg went 4-4-2, with Son Heung-min as second striker. Both teams fielded their stars, though Dortmund's main gun Lucas Barrios was injured, so Lewandowski led the line.
"Who's that kid?"
Mainz fans pointed at me—my baby-faced mug was on the jumbotron.
"That's Jinho."
"What? Him?"
"Looks like he just started gymnasium."
Like most German fans, they didn't know prospects outside their team, but constant media buzz meant they knew Son Jinho's name.
They'd read articles envying, 'Wish Mainz had a talent like that.'
Right then, I got the ball. Curious Mainz fans watched.
"Ooooh—!"
They cheered instinctively as I nutmegged a Hamburg midfielder with one touch.
They rose for the follow-up long-range shot, but a Hamburg defender bumped me from behind, throwing off balance—the ball sailed just over the bar.
"Argh! Perisic!"
I clutched my head in regret as the shot flew high. Perisic on the bench blinked in confusion.
"...Why's he yelling at me all of a sudden?"
Dortmund vs. Hamburg played at a blistering tempo.
Dortmund's high line left space momentarily—Son Heung-min burst in for another shot, but it skewed wide, stopped by the keeper's save.
Dortmund's counter: Shinji Kagawa passed to me, then ran into the box, dragging defenders.
"Jino!"
Locking eyes with Robert Lewandowski, I lofted a cross into his path.
The ball pierced Hamburg's defense, dropping perfectly at his feet.
"Leva! If you miss that, quit as striker!!"
Hearing my "encouragement" (?), Lewandowski stayed cool, one-touched it home, rippling the net.
Robert Lewandowski, who'd rattled Hamburg's net, sprinted to the corner flag and mimicked my Hoo celebration.
Viewer comments exploded.