League Round 30: Bayern Munich -1
After the match against Wolfsburg ended, I suddenly became the hottest topic among Dortmund fans due to the erupting pro contract controversy.
Dortmund fans begged and pleaded for me not to leave, while the club was busy watching both them and me.
For a one-sided prospect, this level of excessive fan attention might burden them and affect their performance.
But I was unfazed. Even if my appearance was still young, my mind was that of a veteran midfielder who'd retired.
And from the start, both the board and the fans knew it would be hard for me to keep playing at Dortmund.
Still, Dortmund fans continued their protests at training grounds and in front of my house, even knowing that.
Their actions didn't make me feel bad or uncomfortable. It just meant I held a huge share in Dortmund fans' hearts.
Well, that big share could also turn into betrayal and make them anti-fans...
But didn't I have my trusty 'friends' like a bowl of hearty Korean beef soup?
I pictured my 'friends' faces.
'Fierce' Kagawa Shinji, 'Goe-tong-su' Mario Gotze, 'Traitorowski' Robert Lewandowski.
Just hearing their names calmed my heart. No matter how much chaos I caused, there was plenty of room for re-evaluation later.
Sturdy friends in every sense.
'Is Kagawa Shinji really included there?'
Whatever.
That wasn't the point. Over time, Dortmund fans started slowly accepting reality.
"Jinho!"
"Mino! What brings you to Dortmund out of the blue?"
A few days after the pro contract controversy blew up, my agent Mino Raiola showed up. Since we were in frequent contact anyway, I greeted him warmly.
"Too many offers pouring in—thought we'd talk them over."
I invited Mino Raiola inside and we had a long chat.
Ad proposals, sponsor offers, national team issues, future plans, condition checks, any discomforts, and more.
"Like we discussed, let's hold off on sponsors and ads until after the Golden Boy award."
"Got it."
We went through countless ad and sponsor contracts, finally agreeing to sign after the Golden Boy win.
With the Barcelona match pretty much locking in the Golden Boy, we figured post-award deals would be more profitable.
"Oh! And about that invitation you requested—the club decided to invite them directly. Great way to win your favor and boost the club's image on the cheap."
Mino Raiola brought up the Korean miners' invitation I'd asked for. I thanked him with a smile, and our chat continued in a cheerful mood.
"...Detention center? Why?"
Until Mino Raiola picked up a call in a flustered voice.
Mino Raiola, who had blown into Dortmund like the wind, left just as swiftly.
"...Detention center? Why?"
With so many players under his management, Mino dealt with all sorts of incidents from his troublemakers.
"Alright... alright, I'll head there now."
Our meeting ended abruptly due to a sudden call from 'troublemaker' Mario Balotelli.
Just like Mino's breathless schedule, agents had endless tasks: media handling, ad and sponsor management, even SNS oversight, personal life care, and mental support.
'Some players would have real problems without their agents.'
In fact, 'Why always me' Mario Balotelli once called Mino saying his house was on fire, and Mino advised him to call the fire department.
"Gino, I'm always grateful you don't cause trouble."
Mino, who managed so many ego-heavy players, expressed his thanks before leaving.
"...You got mad last time when I said I talked transfers with Ferguson."
"Not getting detained isn't trouble."
His standards were a bit off, but anyway.
"I'll be in touch."
After our farewell, Mino rushed off to Manchester.
And time flew by, bringing the match against Bayern Munich that could clinch the league title.
At Signal Iduna Park, where Borussia Dortmund faced Bayern Munich.
"Who's the German champion? BVB Borussia!"
Dortmund home fans' cheers filled the stadium.
In one corner of Signal Iduna Park, at Son Jinho's request, the Korean miners and nurses began taking their seats.
The old man who'd greeted Son Jinho on the street a few days ago was there too, with his grandson.
The old man gazed at a player warming up on the pitch. A young-faced Korean caught his eye.
The old man slowly closed his eyes, recalling Cha Bum-geun's days at Frankfurt.
Moments of scrimping every penny to visit the stadium and cheer for his compatriot.
I scanned Bayern Munich's players' faces. They looked weary somewhere.
Unlike the Leverkusen-era Bayern, the current 11-12 season Munich had squad depth as thin as Dortmund's.
No, perhaps even thinner.
Legendary manager Jupp Heynckes, who'd led Leverkusen to second last season, joined Bayern and quickly fixed the imbalance from Van Gaal's mess.
But with such poor rotation options, he had to reluctantly stick with the best XI. By season's end, injuries and fatigue spread among starters, hurting performance.
The result? Runner-up treble in original history, and trophyless for the first time since 08-09.
That history didn't seem likely to change.
While Bayern faltered, Dortmund charged toward the title faster than in the original timeline.
Just one step from clinching.
"Win and seal the title!"
"Heja BVB!"
With the ref's whistle, the game kicked off, and Dortmund pressed Bayern hard.
A one-sided affair unlike our earlier meeting. We'd grown, but Bayern looked exhausted overall.
We dominated possession, hammering Bayern's goal relentlessly.
But no goals yet.
Manuel Neuer was still a monster, saving like in the first half matchup.
"Scheiße! He blocks that?!"
"Position up. It's a corner."
I lightly scolded Lewandowski, who shook his head in disbelief after a one-on-one save, telling him to take corner position.
As Bayern players jostled for space, Marcel Schmelzer raised both hands at the corner flag, ready.
Beep—! The ref whistled.
Schmelzer's left-footed corner whipped in sharply toward the box.
Jerome Boateng and Lewandowski clashed, but the ball floated higher than expected, missing everyone and drifting back.
I'd been waiting at the box's edge. Spotting the high trajectory, I gauged the drop and dashed.
No shooting angle visible near the goal line, but I focused on the incoming ball and swung my right foot.
Thwack—!
The ball cushioned on my instep, lofted slightly, then plunged sharply.
Neuer reacted fast, stretching his arm, but the ball grazed his left hand and rippled the net.
While kids live thinking of the future, the old live recalling the past.
The old man visiting Dortmund belted out cheers at the top of his lungs.
His ears no longer heard well, his eyes dimmed. Years of overwork had damaged his lungs, triggering dry coughs.
"Hoo—! Hoo—! Even Munich fears him! Soon the world will know him! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!"
Yet they sang Son Jinho's cheer in now-familiar German.
Son Jinho, who'd scored a fantastic volley, ran toward them, pumping his fist skyward in a simple celebration.
Not flashy like usual, no chest-thumping thrill...
But to these old men reminiscing the past, it was cooler than any celebration.