Sonny vs. Jermain Defoe: Who Is the Greater Premier League Legend?
Jermain Defoe.
"Of course I know Defoe."
"Really?"
"I was watching the Premier League back then. That was when Roy Keane was manager, right? Peak years."
A name most overseas football fans would have heard at least once.
When Son Heung-min transferred from Bayer Leverkusen in Germany to Tottenham in 2015, he was still struggling to lock down a place under Pochettino. Meanwhile, over at Sunderland, Jermain Defoe was leading the line as their striker.
A celebrated forward who finished his career ninth on the all-time England scoring charts.
For a while the internet was full of people comparing stats and stirring up a non-debate: "Sonny vs. Jermain Defoe."
Until Sonny soared past Defoe's Tottenham goal tally a few years earlier and cemented himself as an undisputed club legend, the snide comparisons from trolls never really stopped.
The balding man nodded.
"Defoe? Yeah. He only played a few seasons, but he was a legend."
Someone chipped in from behind.
"Nah, Defoe wasn't quite that level for us."
"He won Player of the Year in the 16 season, so yeah, legend. Still a long way below Niall Quinn, though."
They launched into an untimely debate over the club's legends among themselves.
The pot-bellied man turned to Han Shin.
"What about Charlie Hurley, then? Don't know him?"
"I've heard the name."
That was roughly true. One line on Wikipedia was all he had.
"This idiot's never even seen him play properly and he's spouting rubbish. Forget it."
The bald man waved it off.
Then came the real gem.
"But you know Bobby Gurney, right? You've got to know Bobby Gurney."
The nostalgia trip of middle-aged men drunk on past glory showed no sign of ending.
If I'd known it would go like this, maybe I should have researched our legends a bit more thoroughly.
"I know him as Sunderland's all-time top scorer."
"That's right. Still the legend of legends at this club. No one's overtaken him."
"Hey! How's anyone supposed to know a player from a hundred years ago? Stop calling him a greenhorn. Knowing Kevin Phillips, Niall Quinn and Jermain Defoe is already impressive enough, isn't it?"
"Still, though? If you're going to manage our club you ought to know the history at least. History. Hey, Shin—am I wrong?"
"You're absolutely right. There's a saying: A nation that forgets its history has no future."
"Oh… that's a good line. Who said it?"
"Churchill, maybe?"
"It's a famous saying back in Korea."
The line, widely attributed to the independence activist Shin Chae-ho, actually appears in no historical record. Pure fiction—a kind of Mandela effect.
"Is that so? Good meaning, though. Aye, you've got to know the club's long history."
But aren't they a bit too hung up on 'history' and 'the past'?
"More than that, what matters to me is Sunderland going forward."
"That's it! Well said, Manager Han!"
"And I do know the players who came through Sunderland. Jordan Pickford who went to Everton, Jordan Henderson who moved to Liverpool, Sessegnon who left for Tottenham."
"Those lads all left. Yeah—any good player always leaves this place!"
"Hey, Shin. Once you've built a name here and got famous, you'll leave our club too, won't you?"
"No. This club gave me a huge opportunity. I want to stay as long as I possibly can."
"But…"
"But?"
"It's all contracts. Contracts."
I've only signed a one-year short-term head-coach deal. I can't just stay as long as I like.
Worst case, he could be sacked after ten matches and become a laughing stock.
Anyway, do I really have to keep answering Q&A until they're satisfied? Better wrap this up and slip out.
"Well then, I think it's about time…"
The hairy man cut in.
"Speaking of history—there's a statue standing in front of our stadium. Know who it is?"
Han Shin paused, thinking.
No idea. One of the players who led the club in the old First Division? Or a manager?
When you don't know, honesty is usually the best policy.
"I'm afraid I don't."
"I'll give you a hint. He's a manager."
"The one who won the FA Cup in 1973."
"Enough, enough. That story again? It's decades ago already."
A question that would stump a hundred random Koreans out of a hundred.
1973 was long before Han Shin was even born.
He had never set foot in the stadium; of course he wouldn't know.
This isn't Twenty Questions. No matter how many hints they give, I'm not guessing it. In that case…
"I'm sorry. I really don't know."
"Aww…"
The dozen or so men looked quietly disappointed.
"However! I will work tirelessly so that one day my own statue stands in front of the Stadium of Light."
"Oh? Hahahaha!"
"A statue? Hahahahaha!"
"What a character!"
"Sorry, mate, that's too funny!!"
His single line turned the whole group into a sea of laughter.
"That's enough for me. Good. Han Shin—we came on a bit strong at first, but now we're willing to trust you. Go on and show us what you've got!"
They clapped him on the back.
"Young man's got real fire in him! Yeah—work so hard you shit blood!"
"And if the day ever comes we win the Premier League, we'll roll up our sleeves and put up a proper handsome statue for you! Hahahaha."
The bald man let out a long sigh.
"Still… those were good times. The 1973 FA Cup final. Beating Leeds United and lifting the trophy. Ah, I'll never forget the joy of that day."
Another man answered with a smile.
"I was just a little kid then. Watched the match with my dad. The moment we won, he hugged me with tears in his eyes. From that day on, Sunderland became a part of me I could never cut away."
Han Shin nodded, listening seriously to their stories.
"Those moments piled up and made this club special. The memories stacked until they became the people you are today. I'll do my best to become one page in your memories as well."
"Aye. We'll be cheering you on."
"But everyone—the past is only the past. We all need to focus on the present and move toward the future. Imagine our club winning the Premier League, conquering England, then winning the Champions League and conquering Europe. How wonderful would that be?"
"Pfft…!"
"Hahahahaha—there's no way that could happen! Puhahaha!"
"That's pure nonsense! The Champions League?"
Han Shin's expression grew a touch stern.
Have they already given up…?
"No. I came here to make the impossible possible. I've already done a few impossible things. Right now my goal is to raise Sunderland to the very top of Europe and become the best manager in the world."
"…"
A boy who dreams can dream any dream without being mocked.
As people grow older—as they "grow up"—they face reality and gradually stop talking about their dreams.
Han Shin, too, had once dreamed of becoming a world-class player like Messi when he was little.
He had worn the number 10 shirt and been rated a promising youth prospect.
Through middle and high school football he had shone, collecting multiple titles.
He had even gone through youth trials in Germany; a contract had been all but certain.
Then, in a practice match, he suffered a catastrophic ankle injury and underwent surgery.
It would not stop him living a normal life, but as a footballer it was career-ending.
The highly touted "season's 59,249th next Messi" never even stepped through the professional door. He simply vanished.
For a long time afterward Han Shin drifted, unable to find his place anywhere.
One day, while he was still bedridden recovering, a friend introduced him to a game: Football Manager.
Unable even to walk, he set a laptop on the tiny hospital table and sank deep into that infamous "devil's game."
But FM was no competitive title like League of Legends. There were no tournaments, no ranked ladder.
Yet the player known as Han Shin became world-famous for one reason alone…
Tactical sharing.
By pure chance he had taken charge of Sunderland and posted a save that ran all the way to 2035. The record exploded across the internet.
In a single season: roughly two hundred goals scored by the team, ten conceded. Unbeaten champions in every competition they entered.
Even for a game, the numbers were absurd.
Xabi Alonso's invincible Leverkusen looked ordinary by comparison.
Naturally, suspicions flew.
First: "Isn't he just saving every match and reloading until he wins—the classic load-scumming?"
Han Shin posted full playthrough videos together with the save files and killed the doubt overnight.
Next came the comments claiming he had used the editor cheat tool to boost player attributes. He proved he had never even purchased the program.
Every accusation was cut down in a single stroke, and the nickname Hannibal grew even more famous.
Everyone cheered.
"An overpowered tactic the likes of which we've never seen has arrived."
Using Han Shin's tactics felt so much like a cheat code that simply strengthening the squad made the game boring.
Word reached Britain—where FM addiction is practically grounds for divorce—and even official FM accounts tweeted about him.
The developers themselves shouted him out. His fame only grew day by day.
The moment his reputation peaked came from a short video clip.
After Euro, Antoine Griezmann—freshly retired from the French national team—was filmed playing FM on a plane. When the camera zoomed in on the tactic he was using, the name read: K-Hannibal 3-2-4-1.
Soon countless FM players began posting proof that they, too, were running Hannibal's tactics like a challenge.
Even active managers were no exception.
My tactics have spread this far… it's strange and fun.
Riding the massive recognition and pure enjoyment, Han Shin locked himself in his room and studied football theory—and football itself—from the ground up.
He even started live streams, constantly updating new formations and tactics.
Every time one of Han Shin's "fresh tactics" dropped, downloads exploded everywhere.
Yet he could never make real money, and real life drifted further away.
This isn't enough. I want to become a real manager. Where do I even start? Get a coaching badge?
Even with the damaged leg, the thirst to stand on a football pitch again only grew stronger.
If he could not be a player, then as a manager.
But the years were passing and no clear path appeared.
Then one day, while he was still scraping by on instant noodles, an email arrived.
And so the ill-fated bedroom football genius was born.