The Defender Who Scored Goals Brilliantly - Chapter 1: A Split-Second Choice Shapes a Lifetime
A moment's choice determines a lifetime.
That was my motto.
Because one wrong decision in a fleeting instant had ruined my soccer career.
"It's [Hero Bunsik] in Cheonho-dong, Gangdong-gu. We get our tteokbokki rice cakes fresh every day from a nearby mill, and we change out the clean canola oil daily for frying... Also, [Hero Youth Soccer Academy] provides scientific, systematic coaching based on the latest European soccer theories... The lesson field location—just open Naver Maps and... mumbling..."
Right now, I was in a tiny officetel in Yeouido for a YouTube shoot.
I watched YouTube all the time, but this was my first time in a filming setup. Never dreamed they'd broadcast from such a cramped space.
"Player Na Yeong-ung, come on forward. We're jumping right into the shoot."
"No script or anything?"
"Nah~ Just be yourself~"
"Ah... okay, sure."
It had been ages since anyone called me "player." I bowed with the practiced deference honed from years in service jobs and stepped inside.
A table and chair sat in one corner, flanked by lights, mics, and two cameras. Jang Ho-jun, the ex-soccer pro checking his script, greeted me with explosive enthusiasm.
"Yeong-ung-ah~! Long time no see, man!"
"How've you been, sunbae?"
"I'm good, obviously. You? Business booming?"
"Getting by."
"I'll slip you a promo spot later—grab it quick, yeah?"
"Thanks, sunbae."
"Hey! Hey! Loosen up that mug! This ain't the newsroom~ It's YouTube~ Crank the energy! Come on, pep up!"
"Yes, sir!!"
Truth be told, Jang Ho-jun and I had zero connection beyond both playing soccer in Korea. Our worlds were leagues apart.
He was nobility: a star from the 2002 Korea-Japan World Cup miracle run, now thriving in broadcasting post-retirement.
Me? A brief teen national team flash, cut from the K-League in my twenties, scraping by with a bunsik joint and kids' soccer classes on the outskirts. Slave class.
Jang Ho-jun ran a soccer YouTube channel under his name, and today's segment was [Finding Forgotten Soccer Players]—tracking down one-hit wonders who'd vanished, for catch-up chats. It pulled steady views with that poignant underdog vibe, but me getting the call meant they'd scraped the barrel.
"Start with a self-intro."
"Hello, I'm Na Yeong-ung, former soccer player. Now I run a bunsik shop and teach kids soccer."
"Why so humble!? You've got achievements to brag about! 2004 Asian Youth Championship MVP and top scorer! 2005 FIFA U-17 World Cup round of 16 hero! Korea's flower boy heading machine, Na! Yeong! Ung!"
"That's ancient history... Kinda embarrassing."
Over twenty years ago, I'd been Korea's youth national team striker.
At 192 cm and nearly 96 kg, my overwhelming physique crushed opponents—I'd bully them and hammer headers into the net. Invincible at Asia's youth level.
"You were huge back then. Skills on point~ Handsome as hell~ Killer body~ TV spots~ Even a Naver fan cafe~"
"...Yeah, it was like that."
It really was. I felt like I walked on clouds.
"But... why'd you go quiet after?"
"Adult level? My game didn't translate. That brute-force physical style hit a wall. Like a shoddily built tower—foundation too weak. Pushed basics too hard late, got nagging injuries... But excuses aside, my soccer just wasn't pro caliber."
Hyped debut, but four years in, K-League cut me loose. Three of those buried in reserves. My spot? Taken by a 2-meter foreign striker. Rise by height, fall by height.
"So retirement straight to bunsik?"
"Nah. Wandered like most retired players. Scammed a few times. Blew all my soccer cash—manual labor, delivery, parcels, kitchen help. Did it all."
"How'd bunsik happen?"
"Had a fave spot run by this grandma alone. One day she says she's beat, wants to hand it off. I took it on impulse. Tweaked her recipes into my own—kids loved 'em. Suits my elementary-school taste buds."
"Ha, wild. Big guy like you slinging street food? Hilarious. Bet you scare 'em at the tteokbokki station."
"Kinda at first. Shop's near an elementary. Kids saw me and bolted—too intimidating. So I went to them."
"How?"
"Hey kids~ Free tteokbokki samples~ Come try~~~"
"Puhaha! That'd freak 'em more!"
"Luckily, we bonded quick. Now they're all regulars."
"Sales wizard, huh?"
"Gotta win over the kid customers to be a real bunsik joint."
"Kinda convincing. Haha."
The PD signaled from behind the camera—time to pivot.
"So, how'd the kids' soccer teaching start?"
"Bunsik again. Saw 'em kicking a ball out front one day. Nostalgia hit—I joined in. They flipped at my skills."
"I'd flip too."
"Told 'em I was an ex-pro, they begged lessons. Class match next week, haha. That sparked [Hero Soccer Academy]. Started free on school fields, rented an indoor spot later, charged fees, went legit. Got serious—devoured soccer coaching books, researched like mad. Word spread good to parents; now we're solid."
"Damn, junior's killing it."
"Looking back at my youth? Regrets galore. National team, pro—yet I knew zilch about soccer. No real teachers. Just robot-mode following coaches from kid days."
"That was everyone back then."
"Won't let my kids be half-assed like me. Latest Euro theories, rock-solid basics from day one."
PD signaled finale.
"Speaking of juniors—Park Jae-min from your middle school, ten years your junior, tearing it up as a defender in Europe?"
"Yeah. Insane."
Park Jae-min: Asia's top soccer star. Center-back. Recent Napoli-to-Man Utd transfer shattered defender records at 190 billion won. Salary? Over 14 billion yearly. Proved defenders can be heroes—Korea's national icon.
"Advice for junior Park Jae-min conquering Serie A and entering the Prem?"
"Me? No quals. Player Park Jae-min—stay healthy, play forever. Rooting for you. Fighting!"
"C'mon~ No formal talk to a ten-year junior~"
"He plays better, earns more? Bro status unlocked."
"Fair. Hahaha."
PD cued wrap, but Jang Ho-jun dropped a bomb.
"Folks, get this shocker. Player Na Yeong-ung here? Wasn't always a striker—originally a defender. Same center-back as flying-high Park Jae-min. Right?"
'!'
I couldn't hide the shock. Red light blinked on camera—close-up on my panic, no doubt.
"H-how'd you..."
That scar on my heart, deepest cut. Even now, decades later, I regretted that day's choice endlessly.
What if I'd stuck as defender, not striker?
I'd even checked Park Jae-min articles in the green room earlier. Envy, jealousy, cheers, regrets—a tangled mess.
"Elem school best player award as defender. Why switch to striker in middle school year two?"
"...Regionals coming. Our starter striker hurt. Coach said play up top. Had to for the team—tried it, loved it. More spotlight than defense. My physique crushed 'em easy. Coach stuck me there; we won streaks, I blew up nationally... Woke up one day as youth NT striker."
"Regrets?"
"...Regrets?"
"What if you'd stayed defender? How different your career?"
"..."
Caught red-handed—chest tightened. Jang Ho-jun saw my face, backpedaled.
"Whoa~ Don't look so grave. Everyone wonders that. Did I pry?"
"Nah. Would be lying if I said no... But I chose then... Can't rewind... So..."
"Cut!"
PD killed it as vibes tanked.
"That bit's too heavy—scrapping. One take waving to Park Jae-min and subs, done."
"Got it."
My face must've looked pathetic. I grinned like nothing happened, sent blessings to Park and viewers, stood.
"Player Na—born for this? Great on cam, smooth talker. Loved it."
"Really? Thanks."
"We'll hit you up again."
I bowed out. Jang vanished with his phone once cameras off.
"Good work, Yeong-ung-ah! Catch ya later!"
Busy guy.
Ding-dong!
Stepping out—50k appearance fee hit my account. Fair trade.
I knew they'd ghost me forever. To them, my life's a one-episode filler—chew and spit.
No grudges. Got shop promo at least.
"Ah! Shop promo!"
Crossing the intersection post-officetel, it hit me. Forgot the address—key detail! Past regrets over future hustle.
Whirled back, dashed into flashing yellow crosswalk.
Vreeee—!!!
Two devil eyes—white headlights—barreled from ahead.
I froze on the curb, staring dumbstruck at the massive glow.
BAMMMMM—!!
"Gaaahhh!"
"Call an ambulance! Hey! Wake up! You okay?"
Voices faded faint. Blurring vision—distant green flicker. Like the pitches I loved.
That green soaked in glory, joy, tears, sighs.
If only I could return there...