The Man Everyone's Watching (9)
The atmosphere inside the Kumon Play Sports broadcast studio was electric.
"Cha Tae-oh's fantastic dribble, followed by that clean finish! He's brought the game back to square one! The score is now 2-2—it's tied!"
"It's truly astonishing that he can pull off such a calm shot feint and breakthrough inside the box like that. Didn't he completely shred Espanyol's sticky defense? Ah, what a one-man show from Cha Tae-oh."
Just moments ago, when RCD Espanyol seized their counterattack chance and hammered in two quick goals, the studio mood had sunk into a heavy silence. As commentators, Kim Min-seok and the caster had to maintain strict neutrality without showing it, but they couldn't help feeling a twinge of regret deep down. Korean soccer fans watching the match in the dead of night felt the same way.
In truth, what these fans really craved wasn't so much an AD Alcorcon victory as Cha Tae-oh's performance. If Cha Tae-oh shone, Alcorcon's win would follow naturally.
The real reason for the heavy vibe wasn't the 2-0 deficit itself, but that Cha Tae-oh couldn't pierce the opponent's parked bus.
'I knew it wouldn't be easy...'
Soccer isn't a solo sport. No matter how overwhelmingly skilled Cha Tae-oh was at this level, without his teammates' help, he'd have to shoulder every goal himself. And the opponents? Even after relegation last season, they were mostly La Liga veterans. Blocking a team like AD Alcorcon was child's play for a squad that had spent the whole season bunkering down against La Liga powerhouses.
In other words, Cha Tae-oh had to unravel this crisis single-handedly—punching through a packed box crammed with defenders.
And yet...
'He's doing it.'
Cha Tae-oh had finally overcome that crushing weight. Without a teammate's assist, using only his two feet.
In that instant, Kim Min-seok felt a pang of shame. During the first half when Cha Tae-oh struggled, he'd wondered if the striker couldn't unleash his usual destructive force today. Though his faith was strong, that sliver of doubt burned his cheeks.
"I can't praise Cha Tae-oh enough—my mouth's going dry. This guy is unstoppable."
Was that why? Kim Min-seok amped up his tone, unleashing a torrent of rave reviews for Cha Tae-oh.
"Espanyol set up a low block and counterattack to neutralize him today, right? And it worked through the first half. They exploited Alcorcon's slow backline for two counter goals and packed the box to deny him any shooting chance."
"Yes, exactly."
"But Cha Tae-oh broke through that stubborn lockdown defense. Once with a free kick, once with a magical shot feint. Even the local cameraman got fooled!"
"The footage shook a few times, haha!"
"Plus, Espanyol's counters have dulled since those two goals. Alcorcon's pressing hard up front, slowing their transitions."
"Yeah, their sharp attacks haven't materialized since the second goal."
"Espanyol won't settle for a home draw. They'll have to push forward now. Can't stick to counters after handing over momentum."
As Kim Min-seok predicted, after the tie, RCD Espanyol began dismantling their bus.
"Here's the issue: once they get aggressive, rebuilding that solid defensive wall in the box gets tough. Forwards have to track back too, which drains stamina big time."
"So even tied, Espanyol's the one chasing now?"
"Exactly. But if they push up, who's marking Cha Tae-oh? He shredded the bus—who's stopping him with less pressure?"
"Real goal threat spikes."
Even off-camera, Kim Min-seok nodded vigorously at the caster.
"Espanyol has no choice. They conceded twice bunkered down, and counters aren't lethal anymore. One more goal like that, and defeat's likely."
"Switching to attack is their only play."
"Forcing the opponent to abandon their game plan. That's the aura of an ace. Cha Tae-oh is incredible."
Fans watching the match reacted to Kim Min-seok's hype.
The momentum had flipped. For the home team, they had to score to reclaim the lead. But it was far from easy.
"Players need time to adapt to a sudden tactical shift. That's why Espanyol's attacks aren't clicking right now."
"Alcorcon should rush a winner before they settle, right?"
"Yes. Espanyol's circulating calmly, but..."
That's when it happened.
"Alcorcon's intense press!"
As RCD Espanyol's winger received on the flank, AD Alcorcon's defense swarmed him...
"Oh! David Fraile intercepts the pass!"
Lacking confidence to break the press, they panicked with a backpass—and lost it.
Pang!
Without hesitation, David Fraile slotted a precise pass to Cha Tae-oh's feet in front of the opposing center-back.
Three defenders, two attackers. With Miguel Amaro dragging a marker on the right flank, only the two center-backs stood between Cha Tae-oh and goal.
One center-back lunged desperately for a foul...
Tok!
Anticipating it, Cha Tae-oh nudged the ball into a space too tight for a tackle or shoulder barge, escaping the pressure.
Shooting chance created. Right on the edge of the box—prime range for Cha Tae-oh's powerhouse strike.
"...!"
The center-back rushed out to close the angle as Cha Tae-oh shaped to shoot again.
In that split second.
"Aaah! Shot feint again!"
Instead of shooting, he rolled the ball inside with his right, poked it with his left, and la croqueta'd straight through the two center-backs!
Inside the box, Espanyol's defenders couldn't even shoulder-charge...
"One-on-one with the keeper!"
"Chance! It's a chance!"
Pung!
Seeing the keeper rush out, Cha Tae-oh calmly slotted it home...
Challang!
Straight into RCD Espanyol's net.
"Goooaaal! Cha Tae-oh!"
"Hat-trick! Hat-trick!"
"Cha Tae-oh doesn't miss, striking the winner at the 9th minute of the second half. Hat-trick hero today! Score's 3-2! Espanyol's home fans fall silent!"
Plenty of time left, but Espanyol supporters sensed it. Defeat loomed heavy.
After my third goal, RCD Espanyol's rock-solid organization and grit crumbled completely. Defense fixated on me alone, attack obsessed with scoring. No unity left—they were no match anymore.
Around the 18th minute of the second half.
Pang!
I dragged out the defenders fixated on me, then threaded a key pass into space, creating the chance myself...
Pung!
Nico Salaberria finished it, putting us two goals clear.
Wooooh!
Espanyol fans, furious at going from up two to down two, unleashed boos and curses...
Thwack!
Peep!
Defenders, pride stung, resorted to rough fouls without hesitation. As tempers flared, the ref pulled yellows more often.
Finally, at the 31st minute of the second half.
Peep!
Jordi Calavera called me to the bench. With a two-goal lead, he wanted me out before it turned into a brawl.
Satisfied, I trudged off at the substitution signal.
Meaningful game. Proved I could dismantle a packed bus solo. Oh, and that free-kick goal.
"Theo, respect the opponent. Hurry up, or I'll add this time to stoppage."
The ref grabbed my shoulder. I nodded and picked up the pace to the bench.
Then clapped toward our supporters.
"Theo! Theo! Theo!"
"Cha! Cha! Cha! Cha! Cha!"
They screamed themselves hoarse, buzzing with excitement. I flashed a smile, stopping in front of Alejandro Rigo, my replacement.
And right then.
Clap clap clap clap!
Thunderous applause hit my ears.
Astonishingly, it came from RCD Espanyol's home fans. Some even gave a standing ovation.
No Espanyol sub had exited, and they wouldn't clap for Alejandro Rigo.
Which meant...
"...Me?"
I was baffled. A standing O for the opponent who hat-tricked them at home?
But no doubt—the applause was for me.
Clap clap clap clap!
It continued until I sat on the bench.