B Team is the Future! (4)

Soccer is definitely way more fun with a big crowd. When the passionate cheers and chants echo through the stadium, your own combat power surges right along with it. That crowd buff—you absolutely can't ignore it. That's why home games have such a huge advantage.

Doo doo doo doong-! The majestic drumbeats pounded against my eardrums, and my heart pumped in rhythm with them. Was that why? Unlike previous games, I wasn't getting tired no matter how relentlessly I ran.

And it wasn't just me. My teammates seemed fueled by the supporters' fiery cheers too, putting on bolder, more aggressive plays than usual.

But that wasn't always a good thing.

"Stay calm! Don't rush it!"

"Stick to our training drills!"

"We're being too hasty right now!"

We had firm control of the game. The issue was with a few players—especially the young ones—who, eager to show off to the fans, were letting their enthusiasm override their judgment. It wasn't a huge problem if they produced results, but this overzealousness was disrupting the team play.

"Yes! Keep doing that!"

"Don't forget—same as always! Just like we practiced!"

"Play for the team, for the team!"

Thankfully, the leadership from our veteran players and Coach Jordi Calavera's shouts helped the youngsters correct course quickly.

But one of those young players was still overflowing with reckless energy. The funny part? No one was reining him in—not even me.

And for good reason.

Tap tap-!

"Woooaaah-!"

"Yesss-!"

Miguel Amaro's daring dribble sliced ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through without a single mistake, turning every one into a dangerous chance. Reckless challenges become legendary when they succeed.

There were no flashy tricks. Just a few quick changes of direction, and the opposing defenders melted away like snowmen in midsummer.

"Don't tackle recklessly!"

"Keep your spacing! Spacing!"

"Block them from getting into our box!"

Every time Miguel Amaro broke through on the flank, I immediately surged toward the opponent's goal, hunting for a shooting opportunity. The defender glued to me like a leech tried to block with his body, even grabbing at me...

Pwaaang-!

Clang-!

Just like with Miguel Amaro, they couldn't stop me once. In the first 20 minutes of the half, the two of us had combined for four goals already—three of them mine.

"How the hell do we stop those two bastards... Damn it."

As always, the opponents had completely lost their will to fight. And then the supporters' powerful chant rang out again.

Yeah. This is why we play soccer.

Manuel Beiga, co-leader of the AD Alcorcon supporters, had been wielding the megaphone and leading the ultras for over 20 years. Taking on the role in his mid-20s showed his unmatched love and passion for AD Alcorcon.

As the de facto head of the supporters for so long without major issues, his influence within the group was immense.

Lately, though, he had one big worry: AD Alcorcon's abysmal results. It wasn't just the poor performance—after one draw and four losses in their last five games, fans were staying away in droves.

'Our team's play is already in the gutter. We can't let the supporters' energy fizzle out too.'

True fans stick it out win or lose, but you can't force that. He needed something to rally them.

Then he spotted it.

The moment Manuel Beiga saw this, inspiration ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠struck.

'After seeing the B team's dominance, their love for AD Alcorcon will reignite...'

Attendance would rebound fast. That hope felt like certainty in the early game.

Pwaaang-!

Clang-!

"Yesss-!"

Unlike the A team's frustrating slog, this B team was a merciless predator ripping into the opponent's throat.

The supporters started regaining their fire thanks to AD Alcorcon B's heroics. Better than expected.

Fueled by the passionate cheers, the B team players pushed the attack relentlessly...

Clang-!

Clang-!

CD Vadajoz's net shook nonstop, showcasing a level of play worlds apart. The team's overall quality was far superior—pass play, high press, quick transitions—even better than the A team in some ways.

But the real stars?

Pwaaang-!

Clang-!

Now in the 20th minute of the second half. The miraculous striker who turned 7 of 10 shots on target into goals, making it 9-0. And the winger on the left flank with five assists from dazzling dribbles.

Their combo had the AD Alcorcon supporters in a frenzy.

"What's that striker's name?"

"Theo. Theo Cha."

"Where's he from?"

"Korean guy. Joined two months ago."

"Why'd they sign a beast like that after winter window, and to the B team?"

"Told you, Iñigo Chapé—that bastard's got issues."

"Nah, don't misunderstand. Theo came via B team trial. Arrived in February."

"Huh? A player like that needed a trial?"

"We didn't scout him from Korea?"

"Dunno... Heard he was released there."

"What?"

"Released?"

"...How insane is Korea's pro league?"

Above all, eyes locked on the mad striker Cha Tae-oh, who'd scored seven today and 39 in eight games. No wonder—with no A-team striker who could score, and here was one flying high with insane finishing.

Spotlight on Miguel ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Amaro too—no A-team dribbler, desperate need for a winger who cuts inside to feed strikers.

All good, right? But as the game wound down, Manuel Beiga couldn't smile.

"Yeah, boycotting A team this year works."

"Won't watch A team till Theo and Miguel Amaro come up next season."

"Pour all our energy into B team cheers!"

"Right! They're our future!"

"Theo! Theo! Theo!"

"Miguel! Miguel! Miguel!"

...The vibe had flipped completely from what he'd intended.

After my seventh goal, Coach Jordi Calavera pulled me. A bit disappointing—the crowd was hotter than Gimpo United's 1,000-ish average, and I'd wanted full time. Stamina was no issue.

Still, the other strikers needed minutes too, so I headed to the bench without complaint. Arguing subs with the coach is pointless anyway.

Beep- Beeeep-!

The game ended anticlimactically. Final score: 9-0. After Miguel Amaro and I subbed off, no real threats emerged.

"Why so many fans today?"

"Right? Made it fun to play."

"Felt their frustration with A team."

"Yeah, about that... Sorry again for getting too eager early."

"Nah, I get it. The chants fired me up too."

"Proud showing this in front of all those fans."

"Me too!"

"Same!"

I smiled warmly at their excitement.

"Win puts us fourth now!"

"Navalcarnero won today?"

"Ooh, they lost!"

"Lost? That's a 9-point gap?"

"Win our last six like this, and title's real?"

"Awesome! Keep it up, everyone!"

The hype settled as Coach Jordi Calavera entered the locker room. He praised us but urged humility and prep for the next game.

As we packed to leave...

"...Huh?"

The leader froze. The rest halted, stunned by what they saw. Me too.

Beyond the exit...

"Ooooh!"

"The young warriors emerge!"

"You're our future!"

"We'll cheer you to the end!"

"Autographs! Please!"

"Me too! Me!"

"Outta the way! I'm first!"

"Line up properly!"

"Hey! No pushing from back!"

A massive pack of AD Alcorcon supporters.