Unstoppable Guys (5)
Last year, when I was playing for Gimpo United, there was one striker in K League 2 who generated the most buzz. From the moment he joined, he drew massive expectations. After all, he'd gone to Austria for soccer studies right after high school, then bounced through Switzerland and Belgium before landing in Germany's second division.
His stats there weren't stellar, but they weren't bad enough to force a move back to Korea either. The real reason he came home was purely to sort out his military service obligation. With his reputation as a national team reserve, everyone figured he'd join a K League 1 club. But for whatever reason, he signed with Jeonnam FC, an upper-table K League 2 side gunning for promotion.
Truth be told, it wasn't a huge blow to us down in the lower ranks at Gimpo United, but for the other promotion-chasing teams, Jeonnam's acquisition was a real threat. Before the season kicked off, everyone assumed this striker would claim the K League 2 golden boot. But as the first half wore on after opening day, astonishingly, he hadn't scored a single goal. He notched two assists, but that was it for his attacking output. He even missed a penalty and handed kicking duties to someone else, completely shattering everyone's hopes for a goal-scoring rampage.
Normally, that would've cost him his starting spot. But Jeonnam's manager showed him unwavering trust, keeping him in the lineup. The team's mid-table dance between third and fourth helped, but it was really his link-up play and tactical awareness that shone through. Nine years grinding in Europe didn't go to waste. And so the second half arrived. Finally, the striker tasted the net. That goal sparked an incredible turnaround.
He bagged a whopping 17 goals in the second half alone. The guy who'd drawn blanks in the first half ended up sharing the golden boot and leading Jeonnam to the league title. That's when I truly got what they mean by "the first step is the hardest." ...Even though it wasn't my story.
And now.
Thud-!
I felt that truth hit home again. Miguel Amaro, who'd been passing meticulously to me unless it was a dead-certain shot, flipped a complete 180 after his cheeky beauty against the keeper. On top of his usual rampaging dribbles down the flank, he now finished with swagger. Like a fish in water, he rattled Getafe B's net over and over.
Wham-!
Thud-!
He even notched a first-half hat-trick.
"Wooooah!"
"Vamoossss!"
The opposing keeper looked utterly shell-shocked by Miguel Amaro's venomous play. He couldn't believe a player he'd dismissed as inferior was humiliating him like this.
"We'll always be together!"
"Alcorcon!"
"In life and in death, forever!"
"Alcorcon!"
"Singing for victory to the end!"
"Alcorcon!"
Miguel Amaro's hat-trick had ballooned the score to 6-0, and the AD Alcorcon away fans' chants echoed louder than ever, making everyone forget this was Getafe B's home turf. After each goal, he'd charge toward the supporters, roaring and bellowing "Vamos!" nonstop.
I watched the beaming Miguel Amaro with a satisfied grin.
"...Stepped up big time, that punk."
It wasn't coincidence that last year's Jeonnam striker flashed in my mind.
Amid the heated clash between Getafe B and AD Alcorcon B, a Getafe CF scout in the stands struggled to hide his astonishment as he watched.
He was here, naturally, to evaluate Getafe B players—spotting talent worthy of a first-team call-up and reporting back. But even after 10 minutes of the second half, he hadn't properly assessed his own side. His eyes were glued to the opponents: AD Alcorcon.
It was unavoidable. The match was barely 60 minutes old, and Alcorcon B already led 8-0. Their organization was rock-solid, passes and movement fluid and organic. While most semi-pro clubs favored direct, gritty soccer, Alcorcon B built attacks with short passes, shaking off pressure. When build-up from the back got too intense, they switched to sharp long balls up top with finesse. This was rare quality for a fourth-tier league.
It wasn't quite pro level—flaws showed—but the standard was undeniably high.
'The coach's efforts are finally paying off.'
He'd scouted Getafe B games before and recalled Alcorcon B's first-half form: like forcing into ill-fitting clothes. Now, it felt tailored perfectly.
'That's the beauty of a B team.'
B teams prioritize developing talent for the first team over results and revenue. They can stubbornly play their style without pressure.
'We're not slacking either...'
Getafe B played a similar possession game, objectively on par or better in basics. Yet the 8-0 massacre? Blame Alcorcon's two attackers.
'Those two are leagues above.'
They'd mesmerized him all game. All eight goals were their handiwork.
'That one's worth signing...'
One was a winger he'd eyed before: Miguel Amaro, shredding Getafe B's defense with dribbles and capping it with a hat-trick. He'd recommended him, but no dice—potential too raw for La Liga. First half of the season backed that up. But today? Rotation material for the first team, no doubt.
But...
'That striker... he'd start for the A team right now!'
The other was superior by miles. Dropping deep for defensive work and links, driving forward to breach lines, off-ball runs with perfect timing into the box. Add physicality, speed, and aerial prowess—the Alcorcon B striker had it all. A complete top-class forward.
Cha Tae-oh.
'Top scorer in seven games? I wondered...'
Not rough diamond. Polished masterpiece. Even in fourth-tier dirt, Cha Tae-oh gleamed elegantly.
'We have to snag him now, before he blows up!'
The Getafe CF scout's eyes sparkled at Cha Tae-oh. Forgetting his Getafe B report entirely.
Beep- Beeeep-!
Full time. Final score: 11-0. Not quite the 12 against UD Socuellamos, but dismantling a far superior Getafe B like this was huge.
"Hahaha! Nothing can stop us now!"
"Nine in a row! Nine straight wins!"
"Five more and we might actually win the league!"
"Fight to the end and take it!"
"Vamoos!!!"
The locker room was electric. Even Getafe B, the strongest left, got crushed—who wouldn't be hyped? Miguel Amaro beamed like a weight lifted. He'd taunted the keeper after his first, but ignored him post-hat-trick. Even after the whistle, no glance his way.
"Miguel, see that prick? Refused my handshake and stormed off."
"He'll never forget today. Hope it traumatizes him right out of the starting XI, the bastard."
"Never dreamed you'd hat-trick him. That first goal? Felt good even for me watching. Haha!"
Joni Montoya was more thrilled than Miguel.
...Meanwhile, I bagged seven and no one's celebrating. Guess this is just expected now.
"Great work, everyone. Big lead could've killed focus, but you stayed sharp. Pro stuff today. Rest up—we've got five left, prep well."
With Jordi Calavera's words, we filed out smiling. I grabbed my bag to leave when—
"Theo, Miguel."
The coach called us over, grinning wide with a curveball.
"No training for you two starting next session."
"Huh?"
"Why?"
"How are you this dense? Don't get why?"
He chuckled at our confusion.
"You're joining A-team training from now on. Just drop back for B-team match eves."
"...!"
"...!"
"Go make an impression. You've got this."