U-19 National Team Training Camp - 2
Ever since I'd been called up to the youth national team, Winter had been messaging me every day. She was probably worried about me joining the youth team after skipping grades, and felt lonely being home alone.
Called out on her true feelings and embarrassed, Winter dropped the Melona line and vanished.
It wasn't just to reassure Winter—I was genuinely adapting well to the youth national team.
Senior players in my position had started seeing me as a serious rival, so there was no bullying or ostracism.
On the contrary, during personal maintenance time, the U-19 national team players threw a welcome party for the new guy.
"Baby maknae! Who's got you KakaoTalking for so long!?"
"My girlfriend."
I smiled and answered Cha Dong-won's question.
"Ooh~ girlfriend~ Pretty?"
"Gorgeous."
"Gorgeous?"
"Fucking gorgeous."
"This punk, swearing in front of his hyung now. Gonna drop the formal speech soon?"
"Yeah. Nice to meet you, Dong-won tuna."
"...Wow. Kids these days?"
Cha Dong-won shook his head and walked off.
I followed Dong-won tuna to the welcome party spot. The seniors were already there, and I chatted smoothly with them without any awkwardness.
"Jinho, if you make it big later, don't forget hyung."
"Duh. I'll send holiday greetings every Chuseok and Seollal."
"Promise? If no contact on holidays, I'll post online that Jinho changed after blowing up."
"Jinho's screwed. This guy's a total nutjob—he'd actually post it even if it's just a mosquito bite."
"Haha. Not just holidays—hit me up whenever you need advice. And seniors, call me anytime you need help."
"Oh yeah, we haven't exchanged numbers yet."
As I swapped numbers with the seniors, I pondered why they were treating me so well despite being rivals. Nothing special. The youth national team was full of the best soccer players in their age group, all aspiring pros. Pros aiming for the top bullying or isolating someone before a tournament? Especially a kid four years younger? That'd just scream "I'm not serious about pro ball."
Soccer's a team sport no matter what. What pro team wants a guy who wrecks the locker room vibe? Well, unless there's backroom money involved.
And above all, the current U-19 team I was on wasn't just young kids. Most were in college or K League, having seen and heard way too much in Korean soccer. We all knew the power of connections.
"Jinho, do coaches still take cash envelopes openly these days?"
While I was lost in thought, a senior asked.
I nodded. "Our school's chairman blocks it, but I hear other schools do."
From there, our chat naturally shifted to which coach was the biggest asshole.
"Back in elementary, my parents forgot the village fee or something, and one day he suddenly made me a fullback."
"Whoa, you dissing fullbacks?"
"Not like that."
"Hey, still better than me. That asshole took bribes, started kids who couldn't play, got us crushed, then came back drunk and beat the ones who didn't pay."
"Damn, that's rough."
"Ours added parent sexual harassment."
"...Fuck. You win. How'd you keep your head?"
"Wasn't my mom. Kept it together. Fuck, I transferred schools that day."
"Maknae, any bullshit you've dealt with?"
"I was young when my parents passed..."
"Aaaah—! Smash Dong-won tuna's head!!"
Intentional losses, bribes, assaults, and more—vile, disgusting crap they'd endured without quitting their pro dreams. Sharing stories, we felt a camaraderie without realizing it. Like how coworkers in the same field oddly click. Just a bit deeper.
"Hey, Jinho. Do you really have to join the U-19 now? You skipped grades, so you could next time."
Not everyone was a saint, like in society. I got where this player was coming from. Pro contracts were desperate stakes. But saying it openly here? Not a total villain. A real bad guy would've dragged me to a dark alley for threats.
"..."
I stayed silent at his earnest plea. Hard to respond.
"What're you saying, punk."
"Coach, soccer's about skill. Pros don't care about age."
Could've gotten awkward, but other hyungs cut in smoothly.
"...Sorry, Jinho. Hyung got hasty."
"No worries, hyung."
Mention of the coach, and the guy apologized. I smiled and accepted.
"It's late—let's wrap."
"Yeah."
"So who's the winner?"
"You, obviously, asshole. How'd you beat that? Fake story?"
"No, fuck—want the coach's lines from back then?"
Maybe the awkward vibe—the party ended there. I headed back with roommate Dong-won tuna.
While he prepped for bed, I lay thinking of Han Gwang-jong's words.
"Selection's pure skill. Age, background—nothing. Best players start! Oh, and cause trouble? Booted from the team, blacklisted from domestic leagues!"
Coach Han's stance shielded kids like me. Unless dead sure of overseas success, no one bucks a federation-backed coach. Adults might not fear it, but it's emotionally annoying.
Oh yeah, that Hanyang High coach's cryptic words were about the U-19 call-up.
I recalled the Hanyang coach's meaningful hint. Felt like he'd pulled strings with Coach Han. Choi Gi-hyeon boasted it was him, but nah. I'd subtly probe and thank Hanyang coach later—good opportunity thanks to him.
As I was drifting off, a message from Winter popped up.
I replied quick.
After my last line, no reply for a while—then a voice message.
I held my smartphone to my ear and played it. Her shy, soft "Me too" brought a smile to my face.