Who Did Ferguson Come to See?
Sir Alex Ferguson wondered who he had come to see.
"Was there a guy like that?"
Ferguson chewed his gum with sharp snaps, his trademark piercing gaze fixed on Hero Na.
He had come to London for a final scouting check on Louis Saha before bringing him to Manchester United. But now, his attention had been stolen by a young Korean defender.
"Is that the play of some 18-year-old kid? It's the seasoned savvy of a veteran with at least six pro seasons under his belt... Strange."
True to his legendary status, Ferguson spotted the anomaly in Hero Na's game right away.
He was in the midst of rebuilding his team. United's defense was already rock-solid, top of the league, but a young, fast, and clever center-back was a rare commodity worldwide.
His brain cells fired rapidly.
"To snag Wayne Rooney and Louis Saha in the summer window, it'll cost at least 40 million pounds... And those West Ham lads who just got promoted won't let Hero Na go cheap... Extra budget roughly..."
Ferguson was practically the king of Manchester United. Unlike modern coaches who just managed the squad, he wielded absolute power over every club decision.
He mentally simulated next season's budget allocation if he were to sign Hero Na.
That's how much of a shock Hero Na had delivered.
But then.
"What? What the hell is that guy doing!? Does he think he's really Bobby Moore!?"
Something on the pitch made even Ferguson leap to his feet.
Peeeeep!
The second half kicked off with West Ham on the attack.
Fulham's players looked grim, as if they'd been chewed out by their manager at halftime.
We circulated the ball from the back just as planned during the break.
Fulham pressed forward aggressively.
Thwack!
I took the ball myself and charged toward them. The Hammers erupted in cheers.
"Wooooaaahhh~!! Hero Na's showtime begins!"
Fulham players swarmed me in fury. Especially Louis and Luis, who'd built up grudges all first half, came at me from both sides.
Thud-thwack!
"Huh!?"
I feigned a pass, scanning around, then slotted the ball between them and burst through.
Easy to pierce two guys with zero defensive nous. Their attempt to block me actually helped me evade Fulham's wider net.
Their chase left cracks in Fulham's midfield.
Whoooosh!
I stabbed the ball into the gap and sprinted forward.
Fulham's backline panicked at my charge. They'd grown used to our slow first-half tempo; they never expected a center-back leading a sudden surge.
Thraaaang!
"It's a fake! Don't fall for it!"
The pass flying central toward me and Marlon curved right to Jermain. Thanks to my overlap, he had just one defender in front.
Thraaaaang!
Whaaaam!
Jermain whipped in his signature half-beat-quick shot. But.
Fulham's keeper diving-punched it away.
"Damn! Hit it flush off the instep!"
"Good job, Jermain. Now I don't have to rush back."
"What does that have to do with me!"
This was part of our set play. When I overlapped, he'd always blast it out to buy me return time. That's why he shot instead of dribbling.