First A-Match (2)
Nearly eight or nine months since I'd last come home. I'd lived in this apartment with my parents for close to twenty years, but today was the first time it felt rundown to me. The place I rented in Madrid wasn't exactly luxurious, but it was still way better than this.
Hmm. Once I start making big money, the first thing I'll do is get my parents a new place.
"Whoa... what's all this? The table's gonna break, Mom."
"Hehe. Mom went all out. Everything except the soy-marinated crab is homemade."
Back home for dinner after the long flight. Despite the grueling journey, I felt no fatigue at all. Mom had prepared a feast fit for a king, and the long-lost aroma of Korean home cooking ignited my appetite like wildfire.
"When you're in another country, you'll miss food like this like crazy. So I went a bit overboard. Plus, after tonight's dinner and tomorrow's breakfast, Mom won't get to cook for you for a while."
The schedule was tight. Tomorrow morning, I'd ride with Dad to the Korea Football National Training Center in Cheonan—Cheonan NFC for short. It was about a two-hour drive from Seoul, so squeezing in lunch would be tricky.
"Let's eat!"
I devoured the food. Having grown up on Mom's cooking, it suited my taste better than even Uncle Adrian the chef's dishes. Comparing it to the club chefs' meals... well, that would be rude to Mom.
Of course, the club chefs' food wasn't bad. They'd sometimes study Korean recipes just for me—mostly from NewTube—and whip up specials. But nothing beat Mom's touch.
"How is it? Good?"
"Man, yeah. It's so good."
"What's the best?"
"Hmm... everything except the soy crab."
"Huh? You don't like the soy crab? I picked it out specially..."
It was lip service saying Mom's cooking was the best—though mostly true—but she didn't catch it.
"Ahem."
Dad, the stoic foodie, cleared his throat softly. Mom, glancing between us, finally got it and burst out laughing. Dad ate quietly, but his face lit up with satisfaction.
Then Dad glanced at the fridge and asked casually,
"Wanna drink?"
"Aw, Dad, camp starts tomorrow. Booze might not be great."
"...I see."
Seeing Dad's crestfallen look, I waved my hands frantically.
"A light one or two shots is totally fine. I'm not the type to get affected. Haha."
These delicious dishes deserved a drink. Mom set a bottle of soju and two glasses on the table. Dad poured and slid mine over.
Trickle—!
I took my shot first, then respectfully poured for Dad. Mom chimed in,
"Shouldn't we have a toast, honey?"
"...A toast?"
Mom kept giggling at Dad, like there was some inside joke. Figuring it out was harder than a hat-trick.
Not that hat-tricks are hard for me.
Anyway.
"Hmm."
Dad pondered briefly, raised his glass slightly, and said,
"Fighting."
"......"
"......"
Silence fell over the table. Mom asked incredulously,
"That's it?"
Dad blinked repeatedly. Mom sighed in exasperation, snatched the toast baton, and took over.
"To our son Tae-oh's first national team call-up! May you stay injury-free, keep shining like always, and represent Korea proudly! Tae-oh, fighting!"
After dinner, Mom beautifully arranged a fruit platter on the table. We chatted idly—mostly Mom asking, me answering. Dad just nodded silently across from us.
My son succeeding in Spain and making the national team... Dad stayed true to form.
I didn't mind. That gruffness always hid warmth.
I shared stories from Spain. They were especially intrigued by my meeting with Borja Navas. But I skipped anything about women.
Come to think of it, they'd never pried about romance. Just one rule: Use protection.
"You won't head out tonight, right?"
"Nah. Gotta rest up for top condition tomorrow. Why?"
"Oh, just thought since you're back in Korea after so long, you might meet friends."
Messages had come. After cutting ties once and letting the fakes filter out, only real ones from schoolmates, Gimpo United juniors and seniors who looked out for me—minus that asshole—reached out. But just well-wishes, no meetups.
Even if they asked, I'd decline. National team tomorrow—what for? A quick hello's fine, but it wouldn't stop there.
Actually... one awaited message. From Kim Hyo-jin, my first after the goblin bump made me huge. Couldn't ignore that curiosity.
No contact since Spain. I'd checked civil service exam dates once. Couldn't tell if 9th or 7th grade, but 9th in June, 7th in November. If 9th, results out. No word? Maybe 7th. Or failed 9th and studying harder.
Not scared off by my fame, right?
If no word post-season... maybe reach out? Or she has a boyfriend. No news is good news—she's fine. No time this trip anyway.
"New bed won't mess with your condition?"
Bedtime. Mom eyed my single bed worriedly. She'd renovated my room since I left for Spain—bed position changed was key.
"Psh. Pros wake up fresh even from the floor. Haha!"
I wasn't picky about beds. Mom smiled relieved and gently closed the door.
Cozy home sleep hit hard. Ten minutes of soccer highlights on my phone, then out. Dreamed of national team debut—hat-trick, standing ovation at Sangam World Cup Stadium. Woke energized.
Devoured Mom's breakfast, packed, headed to the door. Dad went down for the car. Last hug with Mom till next homecoming—Iran in Seoul, then straight to Qatar for that match.
"I'll cheer hard in Seoul."
Ticket from the Korea Football Association. Hot embrace, then out.
The drive to Cheonan... dead silent. I asked most questions. Dad seemed to have words, lips twitching, but none till arrival.
"By the way. About the car."
Almost there, Dad finally spoke.
"Thanks to you. Appreciate it."
All that for this? Haha.
"No biggie. I'll get you a better one soon."
Mom used my allowance to replace Dad's rickety old beater. Dad's got a gem for a wife. Wish I find one like that.
At Cheonan NFC, staff checked and opened the gate. Parking sparse—early birds not here yet.
"Too early?"
"Perfect. First time—late looks bad."
"True."
Out of the car, grabbed suitcase from trunk. Dad glanced at dorms.
Time to part—me solo from here.
"Good luck."
Short and sweet. I smirked, hugged him warm and tight. No awkwardness father-son.
"See you, Dad. Drive safe."
"Yeah."
As he turned smiling,
"Tae-oh."
I looked back. Hesitant Dad spoke softly.
"I'm proud of you. Not just now—always. Believed you'd make it."
"......!"
"Don't forget Mom and Dad have your back."
Rare long words from gruff Dad. Even scoldings short as a kid... and this sappy stuff.
Seeing my shock, Dad gripped door handle.
"Go on in."
Back to normal. Nod, smirk, head to dorms.
Didn't look back. Engine hum faded as reporters swarmed ahead.