New Sunderland 2.0 Plan (1)

The night of the crushing victory over Zenit.

Owner Kirill had booked out an entire restaurant banquet hall, inviting the players and the club hierarchy separately, along with a handful of fans.

On the central stage a band played soft music.

At a round table seating six sat Kirill, two senior directors, Speakman, Han Shin, and Emily, raising their glasses in a toast.

"To today's victory!!!"

Kirill, wearing his glasses, cracked a joke.

"Gaffer, couldn't we maybe trim the transfer budget a bit? With this squad we just thrashed Zenit."

"Shall we… try going without any signings this year?"

Kirill had expected Han Shin to push back hard against the idea.

"Hahaha, no. If anything, I'd like to give you even more support."

"The player transfer budget is plenty as it is."

"Which means something else is short, then."

"I did video interviews yesterday. A coach's base salary is sixty thousand pounds—that's a hundred million won. Bring in just ten of them and…"

A billion.

Before he could finish, Kirill spread his palm wide to stop him.

"Okay. We'll inject funds into the staff budget. An extra three million pounds over four years—fifty billion won."

"Thank you. And for the training equipment, I've already made contact with Nebula Nexus to upgrade everything to the latest models…"

"Training gear? I'll allocate a million pounds."

"You're being very generous with the rewards."

"Call it payment—and a gift—for that blistering performance."

Kirill rested his chin on his hand.

"I'm really looking forward to what Manager Han Shin achieves this year."

Speakman nodded in agreement.

"When he declared he'd score five against Zenit I was worried, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠six? I was impressed myself."

Emily kept sipping her sweet sparkling rosé.

"And there wasn't a single scrap of dirty play. Honestly…"

Han Shin grew concerned for her.

"If you drink that fast you'll get drunk."

"Mmm~ I'm fine."

Kirill asked,

"You two look good together. Are you by any chance…"

Emily sobered up in an instant.

"It's not like that!"

"Not like what?"

"Ah… we haven't… anything yet…"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just thinking, given how photogenic you both are, maybe you should shoot the new kit advert together."

"Ahaha, of course! Great idea, Chairman!"

Thinking she had been rejected, Emily grabbed the nearest whisky and downed it in one.

"Cough, cough…"

Ugh… that wasn't water? My throat's on fire.

"Our Three Musketeers' little brother~ Han Shin!"

The Three Musketeers approached carrying a bottle.

"James, Robin, and even Mr. William! Good to see you, hyungs. How are you all?"

"Hyungs?"

Kirill looked puzzled; Han Shin explained.

"Ah, they're the first fans I met the moment I stepped off the train at Sunderland station."

"Hello~~~ our handsome owner!"

"Ah, yes, pleasure to meet you."

Robin laughed in his gravelly voice.

"Wahahaha! Little brother, take a drink."

"I'll empty my glass and take it."

Han Shin went to down his on-the-rocks glass, but only ice remained.

"What, the glass is already empty! You drunk already?"

"Seems so."

Only then did Han Shin realize Emily had polished off his strong whisky.

"This is how much I care about you!"

Glug-glug-glug-glug.

"Hang on a second! Who pours whisky like that?"

Robin filled the glass right up to the brim.

The ever-boisterous James laughed heartily.

"Keh-keh-keh, thanks to those Zenit bastards, a whole week's worth of stress just vanished!"

This time it wasn't a coffee shop but the banquet hall that James commanded.

"Thanks to Han Shin, life's already worth living again—am I right, everyone?!"

"Hear, hear!!!"

"Han Shin's the best!"

"It's only one pre-season match."

"Pre-season or not, I've never seen us start with football this clean!"

Just as James said, such dazzling form had been a long time coming, and people nodded.

Besides, a side that used to face League One or Two teams in pre-season had just beaten a Champions League-caliber Russian club.

There was no greater cause for celebration.

William suggested,

"How about a toast?"

"One moment."

With every eye on him, Han Shin slurped a mouthful of the whisky that was trembling at the surface tension.

"Thank you all for celebrating my unofficial first match."

"Waaaaah."

"But I want to send the real praise to the players who ran their hearts out on the pitch after I set the board. A big round of applause for the warriors who trusted my words and put their lives on the line for Sunderland!"

"Wheeee~~~~~"

"Yeah, you all did great!"

"Anthony! On your feet!"

Goalkeeper Anthony Patterson, gloves already off, gave an awkward smile.

I didn't even need a shower…

"Waaaaaaaaah!"

Every time Han Shin called out a name from the squad, the room answered with cheers.

"And finally, the hat-trick hero himself—Bellingham!"

"Bellingham! Bellingham!"

They chanted as Bellingham waved.

"There's more. To our owner who supports the club without holding back. To our sporting director who helps me so much!"

"Hahaha, this is a bit much…"

Kirill buttoned his jacket and stood.

"To our coaches, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠team doctors, scouts, youth coaches, groundsmen, kit men, managers and front-office staff who sweat in the places no one sees—please stand up!"

Even Maxwell, receiving unexpected praise, straightened his tie and rose.

Han Shin tapped the table with his index finger, thanking every contribution one by one.

Only the tipsy Emily remained seated.

"Stand up, Emily."

"Mmmph…"

"Hahahaha."

Han Shin took her arm and helped her to her feet; she let herself be guided.

"A round of applause as well for our director Emily Bleuenn Arnault, who works herself exhausted bringing in enormous money for the club."

"She's gorgeous!!!"

Having shone the spotlight on nearly a hundred staff members, Han Shin raised his glass high.

"And finally, we exist because of our precious fans. We will repay you with good performances so you can keep smiling. Everyone, raise your glasses!"

Every glass went up; the room held its breath waiting for Han Shin to speak.

"For Sunderland! Sunderland til I die!"

"Sunderland til I die!"

Gulp, gulp.

Han Shin finished the high-proof whisky in one go.

"Good night, everyone!!! What colour is our blood?!!"

"Red!!"

"Let's paint England red!!!"

"Waaaaaaaaah!"

With those words Han Shin swayed a little.

"Hey, hey, little brother, you okay? Down that all at once and you'll drop."

"I'm fine. Hic… I've got the hiccups."

"You're not about to collapse, are you?"

"No. Perfectly fine. I can hold my liquor. More importantly, are you three free the day after tomorrow?"

"Us? We've got work. Evenings are free. Why?"

"I'd like to invite the three of you as models for the kit shoot."

James rubbed his protruding belly.

"Who's going to want to buy a shirt if old blokes like us are wearing it?"

"The fans ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will be the ones wearing them, so you three are perfect real-life models. Hic… I'm asking you personally."

"All right, all right. We get it."

"Maybe because I downed it in one, I feel a bit stuffy. I'm going to get some air."

"I'll come too… I want some fresh air as well."

Emily tugged on Han Shin's jacket.

"Buy me some sweet ice cream."

"Sure."

The pair left the table.

James, sensing the atmosphere between them, whispered,

"They make a good couple, don't they?"

"That Han Shin lad, acting like he only knows football, and he's already mastered romance too. Keh-keh-keh."

"Robin, what about your daughter?"

"A man of Han Shin's calibre… honestly, even if he had one or two more women on the side… it'd be fine. Mm-hmm."

"You idiot!"

Wednesday, 8 July.

Han Shin gathered the new staff and introduced them to the players.

"Gentlemen, these are the new faces joining our team."

Among the line-up he first pointed to a young American wearing glasses.

"Ethan Park is a data-analysis specialist from Silicon Valley, the holy land of global IT companies. He left a tech firm that developed the world's most famous search engine because of his passion for football."

Horn-rimmed Ethan, formerly of Google, bowed in greeting.

"I hope my sports-performance analysis can help the team."

"Using the data methods employed by cutting-edge IT companies, he's going to dissect every one of you down to the last number. In the interview he presented groundbreaking data that people who have only ever worked in football would never have caught."

Ethan Park had cut his American salary by more than half to come to England. Originally a baseball fan, he had signed a three-year deal with Sunderland. Once the contract ended he planned to leverage the experience to found a sports-analysis company back in Britain or the States. Appearing naturally in the documentary would also boost his personal brand and publicity—an opportunity he refused to miss.

"In football there is no club writing a Moneyball myth like the Oakland Athletics. Probably because of the conservative atmosphere that is allergic to numbers."

Ethan Park turned the praise toward Han Shin.

"Manager Han Shin chose me—someone with zero football background—over a field of strong candidates. I will do my utmost to repay that trust."

The players still largely regarded numbers as mere games, yet they welcomed him because they trusted Manager Han Shin.

Continuing the first-day formal introductions, Han Shin said,

"Our two new fitness coaches: Dr Liam Hodges and Oliver Bennett."

For a doctor, Liam Hodges cut an impressively solid figure, his thick thighs especially striking.

"Liam is a former track athlete who completed his doctorate in sports science at Loughborough University—an outstanding talent far beyond what we deserve."

Loughborough was unfamiliar to most Koreans, yet in sports-related fields it sat virtually unchallenged as Britain's number-one university—top of the top.

"He has published extensively in sports biomechanics, particularly strength and conditioning, expanding the field. He will be with you for the next two years."

"A doctor? Wow…"

Abdullah murmured in admiration.

"Dr Liam Hodges has combined his experience as a young track athlete with his doctoral knowledge and come here to raise your performance."

Han Shin's words were half right, half wrong.

Dr Liam Hodges had arrived with two clear aims.

His record was already strong enough that any university would have snapped him up as a professor. Instead of continuing in academia as a post-doctoral researcher after graduation, he had chosen real-world experience—applying the training programmes he himself had developed. Days would be spent pushing the players to prove the programmes' effectiveness; nights would be spent writing papers. A gruelling double life.

In truth, adding a line to Liam's CV would have been easy anywhere. Despite friends' attempts to dissuade him, he decided that if he did not embed himself inside a club and share the daily breath of professional football now, he never would. So he applied lightly to several clubs.

The decisive reason he chose Sunderland was personal curiosity.

A doctor, after all, lives on curiosity.

In the process of selecting coaches, Han Shin—who had never been a professional player—stood out from every other club. He explicitly demanded concrete, aggressive use of data and the latest sports science, and he required candidates to produce both weekly and in-season training programmes. That ruthless demand eliminated most applicants.

Then came the final interview.

Liam had assumed the man would only skim the material. Instead Han Shin showed intense interest not only in the training programme but even in the master's thesis Liam had written ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠years earlier, grilling him on the finest details.

In that moment Liam decided he wanted to work with this manager for at least two years.

Han Shin next introduced Oliver Bennett, who had brought Premier League training culture down from the top flight.

"Oliver Bennett has long experience in the Premier League. He arrives via Watford and Liverpool. A big round of applause, please."

The two young coaches nodded with quiet confidence.

"Alessandro Conti will advise on tactics. He is a specialist with long experience in Italian football."

Relatively senior, with thinning white hair, Conti offered a brief greeting in his distinctive Italian accent and gestures.

"Buongiorno! Hello."

From the old days, Italy meant catenaccio. Han Shin highly valued Conti's record of developing countless outstanding centre-backs in the mould of Bonucci.

Han Shin then introduced the calm-looking German.

"Klaus Becker will take full charge of set-piece training. I am from Germany."

Klaus smiled and bowed.

Klaus Becker had posted detailed reports on various tactics—especially corners and free-kicks—on his personal website. His playing career had lasted only three years, yet among German football obsessives he was a well-known columnist-coach. After a stint at Hertha Berlin he had jumped at the chance to apply to Sunderland.

Han Shin had carefully read Becker's report and columns explaining exactly why Sunderland's set-pieces had been weak the previous season, then paid the release clause to bring him in.

Becker's ambition was simple:

I want to show the world more of my original set-piece tactics.

Last came the final introduction.

"Goalkeeping coach Javier García. He played as a goalkeeper in Spain for over twenty years and has devoted decades not only to shot-stopping but also to the technical side of a keeper's feet—a true veteran."

Javier gave Han Shin the traditional Spanish beso, kissing both cheeks in turn.

"¡Hola! ¡Amigo!"

In truth Han Shin had almost no ideas about goalkeeper coaching. Keepers were, after all, a different species from outfield players.

García had been preaching the importance of the sweeper-keeper from early on. Han Shin believed his experience and knowledge would benefit the team.

Having already achieved everything—including a spell at a Premier League club—García had decided, before returning home to retire, to spend one last year at Sunderland sharing his long-accumulated knowledge… and perhaps do a little sea fishing with the Korean rookie manager.

Han Shin wrapped up.

"We are beginning a new challenge. Call it New Sunderland 2.0."

"New Sunderland 2.0?"

the players echoed.

"I believe each of you will use your expertise to normalise Sunderland and, together with me, make this club stronger and more solid."

The new season of New Sunderland 2.0 was about to begin.

"Ah, and one more piece of good news. New transfers will be arriving soon."

Nelson Weiper and Mahrdi were already on a plane bound for England.

All that remained was the medical.

Ballard had left for Manchester United.

And on 9 July:

Nelson Weiper joined Sunderland for €15 million plus add-ons.