Hell at Camp Nou for Away Teams - 3
The moment Son Jinho tackled Messi and sent him tumbling.
'Fun.'
A smile crept unconsciously onto Messi's lips.
Of course, separate from the smile, a fierce competitive fire began to burn in his chest.
As Lionel Messi, who had just slammed the ground in frustration after missing a golden chance, heard an odd shout in his ear.
"Hoo─!"
Strangely, hearing that cry made his blood boil for a moment.
But watching Dortmund's momentum shift, he nodded in approval.
And he thought the kid was pretty impressive for his age.
Because Dortmund, which had looked headed for defeat, was starting to come alive.
Messi suppressed his blazing will to win and looked at Son Jinho.
Just then, Son Jinho turned his head, and their eyes met. Messi flashed a smile and gave him a thumbs-up.
For some reason, Son Jinho's face went pale white, but Messi ignored it and directed attacks toward Son Jinho's side as much as possible.
'This is fun. You must be enjoying it too, right?'
Seeing Son Jinho charge relentlessly without giving up, Messi felt the joy of soccer for the first time in a while.
"Today. Fun. Soccer. Right?"
Lionel Messi, firing a shot toward Dortmund's goal, asked in clumsy English from where he lay on the ground toward Son Jinho.
And he got a response from Son Jinho, who was barely catching his breath.
"...How many ankles do you have?"
"...?"
But it was something Messi couldn't understand. It was in Korean.
Separate from Son Jinho struggling against Messi, Dortmund, which had been getting pummeled one-sidedly, began mounting counterattacks bit by bit.
And at the center was Son Jinho.
Son Jinho's pass, protecting the ball from Barcelona's pressure, successfully reached Ivan Perisic. Perisic, playing left-back due to Abidal's injury, blew past Puyol with pure speed and whipped in a cross.
Ivan Perisic's cross smacked perfectly off Robert Lewandowski's forehead toward Barcelona's goal.
Unfortunately, it didn't result in a goal.
As time passed, Dortmund and Barcelona began clashing fiercely.
I was still getting shredded by Messi, but compared to the first leg, I was holding off their attacks decently.
And we were showing some sharp counters here and there.
What was it...?
Prediction, maybe?
I couldn't pin it down exactly, but Barcelona's plays were starting to feel somewhat predictable.
'Now...!'
Timing my press carefully, the moment I sensed Iniesta was about to pass, I lunged a step ahead and snatched it.
"Run!"
Starting with my interception of Iniesta's pass, Dortmund's counter unfolded.
Our eyes met, and I spotted Robert Lewandowski bursting into the space behind Pique and Mascherano.
Timing it perfectly as Lewandowski crossed the defensive line, I chipped the ball lightly ahead of him, dropping it right in his path.
Lewandowski, suddenly one-on-one, stayed as calm as possible and unleashed a shot.
But it was blocked by Barcelona keeper Victor Valdes' save, earning Dortmund a corner kick.
As added time in the first half wound down.
Marcel Schmelzer's left-footed corner curled viciously toward the penalty box, but Carles Puyol won the aerial duel against Lewandowski and headed it clear.
I was positioned just outside the box to stop a Barcelona counter. Staring at the ball bouncing off Puyol's head, I charged forward.
Time slowed like a slow-motion replay.
With my lungs burning to the brim, a sudden thought hit me.
'Why am I running so hard?'
Countless answers flashed through my mind. I eliminated them one by one until only one remained.
'I don't want to lose.'
I just didn't want to lose.
No grand reason, no petty excuse.
Simply, I didn't want to lose.
I wanted to beat prime Barcelona and the god of soccer.
With only the desire to win burning in my chest, I leaped and swung my left foot at the oncoming ball.
"Block number 10─!!!"
The moment Carles Puyol pointed at me as the ball met my instep perfectly, it was too late.
Bam─!!
The shot, struck cleanly off my laces, dipped low before rising sharply at the goal line, shaking FC Barcelona's net.
The Camp Nou fell into stunned silence, as if time itself had frozen at the physics-defying wonder goal.
"...Wooooaaahhhhhhh!"
After a split-second hush, a roar erupted from the Dortmund away fans crammed in the corner of the third tier.
The main ref snapped out of it at the away fans' cheers, pointed to the center circle to validate the goal.
"Hooouuuuuw─!"
And my Hoo ceremony chant echoed through the Camp Nou.
"Hoo─! Hoo─! Even Barcelona's scared of him! Soon the whole world will know his name! Ho! Ho! Ho! Hoo!"
Halftime ended, and the second half kicked off.
FC Barcelona, needing one more goal to advance on away goals, came out pressing Dortmund hard right away, centered on Messi.
Lionel Messi breezed past Son Jinho and entered the penalty box.
Mats Hummels' tackle caught Messi's leg, and ref Bjorn Kuipers pointed to the spot for a Dortmund penalty.
Dortmund's momentum, which had been building nicely, cooled like ice water had been dumped on it.
"Nein! It didn't touch!"
"No way. I saw it clear as day."
Mats Hummels protested to Bjorn Kuipers with an aggrieved look, but the ref shook his head firmly and stuck to his call.
Thud.
Splash─!
With the ref's whistle, Lionel Messi slotted it top right for the hat-trick.
As Messi's hat-trick went in, the Camp Nou erupted in the chant for the god of soccer.
The moment they conceded, Jurgen Klopp subbed out tired Sebastian Kehl for Ilkay Gundogan.
Time flew by. The end of the match approached.
Dortmund's final attack: they finally intercepted Sergio Busquets' pass.
"BVB! BVB! BVB!" "Booooooo!"
Cheers from the Dortmund away end, jeers from the Barcelona home seats.
Shinji Kagawa, penetrating the box, shot but was denied by the keeper. The rebound fell to Son Jinho.
Wham─!
Son Jinho dropped the first touch in front of him and rifled a long-range shot before the ref could whistle.
Claaaang─!
The rocket of a strike smashed Barcelona's crossbar.
"Hefecito (Mascherano's nickname)! Clear it─!"
Mascherano desperately hooked the ball falling in the box out over the touchline, and the whistle blew for full time.
Dortmund had lost.
The match ended the instant Mascherano cleared the ball.
"Ha. Fuck."
I slammed the ground hard from my prone position.
'Should've passed to Perisic on the right flank?'
Regret over the options I'd ignored bubbled up.
"Jino─! You were the best!!"
The away fans' consoling voices reached my ears. I stood to thank the fans who'd traveled all the way to Barcelona, clapping in gratitude.
As I lingered on the pitch, unable to let go completely.
The dwarf who'd tormented me all game approached.
'...Is this little shit here to rub it in?'
I glared fiercely at Lionel Messi for a moment.
"Jersey. Swap."
Messi awkwardly requested a jersey exchange.
"Next time, I'll win."
I said it to him not as a retired veteran, but as a hot-blooded 17-year-old footballer.
Our languages differed, but the meaning got through clearly—Messi smiled and replied.
"Anytime."
It was the moment not just Gyeowol's wish, but a new goal was born.