Hell at Camp Nou for Away Teams - 1
After the Champions League quarterfinal first leg against FC Barcelona wrapped up, Son Jinho instantly became the most talked-about prospect not just in the Bundesliga, but worldwide.
Though objectively outplayed by Messi and the three idiots, the soccer legends kept heaping praise on Son Jinho for those flashes of brilliance against them.
With Son Jinho's exploits continuing in both the league and Champions League, the German FA lost all restraint and proposed naturalization again, drooling at the prospect. That lit a fire under the Korea Football Association.
"Don't even dream of going home until you bring me a way to get Son Jinho back on the national team! Got it?!"
The KFA staff sighed at the order from above to figure out how to convince him.
"Fuck. How the hell are we supposed to convince a player they forced into retirement with their dumb shit? And he's exempt from military service too?"
"And why aren't they thinking of going to Germany themselves to apologize?"
"Pride too high to grovel to a Korean."
"Aigoo, what a mess. For real."
"...Think we can make it home tonight?"
"I already called my wife saying I can't come."
That night, the Korea Football Association building shone like a warm beacon lighting up Jongno until late.
March 31st, 2012.
True to his word in the interview, Jurgen gave rest to the fatigued players ahead of the Barcelona second leg.
I thought it was the right call too.
The first leg against Barcelona had exposed the limits of Dortmund's starters' stamina.
Well.
I was wiped too.
With my muscles lightly strained from overexertion, I obediently rested at home per the medical staff.
Thus sidelined for the home game against VfB Stuttgart, I watched with my family.
The now-familiar Signal Iduna Park filled the smartphone screen.
"Jinho! Eat this apple!"
Han Gyeowol speared an apple slice her mom had cut and handed it over like she'd done it herself.
"Tastier 'cause I gave it to you, right?" "Yeah." As Hwang Miyeon gave Han Gyeowol an exasperated look.
Dortmund's starting lineup was announced.
Dortmund fielded a second-string squad of reserves and rotation players, Weidenfeller aside.
Because of the missing starters?
In the slightly chaotic atmosphere, Borussia Dortmund conceded first.
My face hardened at Dortmund's goal.
They'd crumbled after any slip-up so far, so worry was natural.
But Dortmund didn't collapse like before.
Having watched them fight tooth and nail against Barcelona without giving up, they stayed aggressive even after conceding, taking control.
They never quit until the whistle.
Right before the end, they carved out a chance.
About 23 meters from goal, Stuttgart fouled.
Free kick to Dortmund, Ivan Perisic stepping up.
"Miss it and aigoo—." "Coal mine?" As Han Gyeowol and I bantered.
The ref whistled, Perisic approached. Thanks to our post-training individual sessions.
His free kick rocketed into the top left corner.
Trailing VfB Stuttgart, Dortmund snatched a draw with Perisic's dramatic equalizer.
Ahead of the Barcelona clash, they ran scrimmages.
"Jinho! Play like those Barcelona bastards as much as you can!"
"Ja!"
With Camp Nou looming, Dortmund focused on defensive drills.
Under Jurgen Klopp's orders, I rattled the backline.
Compressed real-match lessons from soccer's star tutor Messi and the three idiots had sharpened my vision and game-reading.
Things I couldn't see before popped into view.
"Scheiße!"
A simple body feint shook Sebastian Kehl's pressure, then I slotted a pass into the space ahead of Marcel Schmelzer overlapping on the left. I nodded to myself.
This should hold up against Barcelona.
Training ended on a confident high, and the next day.
We flew to Barcelona, Spain. Game day.
Camp Nou, Barcelona's home holding 100,000.
"...Is this the demon king's castle?"
Nearly 90,000 Culés erupted into song.