Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Chapter 36
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: FA Cup Quarterfinals vs. Newcastle United
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It had never felt tedious from the start, but now time had dragged on to the point where I couldn't even begin to count how many photos or autographs this made.
In the meantime, plenty of new faces had shown up, alongside the familiar fans who always made the trek to the stadium to cheer us on.
Among them all, the ones who stuck in my memory most were the Smith father and son duo, as expected.
"I figured you'd show up~"
"Ooh... What an honor... Could I get a photo today?"
"Autographs are okay now, right?"
"Haha. You've signed so much for us already that we've filled every spot possible. Time to let other fans have a turn."
Sure enough, just from memory, I'd signed for them at least four times.
Each session, I'd covered their jerseys, clothes—anywhere I could—so they'd built up enough to pass the chance along now.
"Together again today, huh."
"Yes, this is my son, David."
"Ah, got it. Ban Yeager."
I shook hands with the guy introduced as David and exchanged names properly.
Of course he already knew mine, but I just felt like doing it.
"Ooh... I'm Davin Smith."
"Ah, pleasure. Ban Yeager."
We'd crossed paths so often, but this was finally a proper introduction.
The first local fans whose full names I'd learned.
Wait, no—actually, there'd been one already.
"Victoria Smith..."
Poke—
I muttered the name that popped into my head without thinking, and someone jabbed me in the side with a finger.
"Hello."
Had to be David Smith's daughter.
I turned to greet her warmly, but her beauty hit me like a truck, leaving me speechless.
"Ah..."
It was exactly this vibe back then, too.
Just before sunset, her silver hair shimmering in the sunset glow.
Her porcelain-pale face, matching her hair, flushed a bit redder than before in the dying light.
"Victoria, right?"
"Yes... Thank you for remembering."
Was her stiff tone just part of that unapproachable beauty?
Her near-flawless looks and prim speech fit together perfectly without a hitch, but somehow, I got the sense she was embarrassed.
"Shall we... take a photo?"
"Sure..."
Normally, fans handled the shot themselves, or I'd borrow their phone, but not this time.
I handed my phone to David Smith, still hovering protectively by her side, and asked him to snap it.
David took it with a puzzled look but hustled back beside Victoria and got ready to shoot.
"..."
Despite hundreds—thousands?—of fan pics under my belt, I stood there stiff and awkward.
"Here we go!"
About ten seconds later, the brief shoot wrapped, and it was time for other fans.
"Hit me up if you want the pic."
Truth was, I'd been the one to suggest the photo, not her.
——
Did fan service after training 'cause he wanted to hang out with fans, held a signing at Old Trafford in the evening
Ban Yeager's fan service ran over two full hours.
Even on a non-match day, Old Trafford swelled with crowds dying to see him.
His love for the fans was moving enough for non-Man United supporters, and as a personal cheerer, his pro dedication alone made him worth rooting for.
The fired-up vibe from him carried straight into the next day.
The FA Cup quarterfinal against Newcastle United.
——
—
—
—
—
Man United's attack isn't in a state for changes.
Ban Yeager-Lucas Cruijdt duo too good, starters locked.
Conversely, Antony and Mason Mount on wings 'cause Garnacho's options suck—starters by default.
No untouchables below besides Bernal and Mazraoui.
Needs bolstering in multiple spots.
But 20-game unbeaten streak proves no major issues this season.
——
Tweet!!—
Newcastle kicks off.
At kickoff, their striker Nick Voltemate bolts forward.
Others follow, but no sticky marker on me.
Alex Donervan hovering nearby, but not dedicated like past teams.
Top-six Prem side, maybe.
Playing their planned tactics, not swayed by me.
Bruno Guimaraes shakes Lucas clean on counter-press, advances.
Sandro Tonali one-touches central pass, links left to Park Sung-su.
Park uses accel/decel to time-fight Mazraoui.
"Oh..."
Sudden burst inside, curls a shot.
But Mike Maignan reads the trajectory, claims it comfortably.
'Not a shame.'
Early game scouting, got caught cheering familiar Korean play.
Anyway, our attack now.
Maignan's saves are elite, but world-class GK rep from feet.
Top-tier low, quick long kicks.
Thwack!!—
Lucas sprints side as Maignan's long kick drops central.
"Lucas!!!"
I dash central for cross, calling him.
Newcastle's Sven Botman glued to me, prepped for counter.
Calling loud was pre-planned play.
Meant cross it—I'm coming for pass, hold.
"Lane open!!"
Prepped plays skip judgment time.
Thud—
Lucas twists, cutback pass.
Ball at feet, penalty box edge line in view.
Thwack!!!—
Know my spot? No need to check goal.
Goals always wait same place.
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