Home Call. (1)
Generally, soccer is a sport where the performance gap between home and away teams is quite large. No matter how low-ranked a team is, they can at least score against a top team on their home ground.
Factors like the condition of the grass or slight differences in field size create such gaps, but the biggest reason is the home crowd.
Or, more accurately, the referee being pressured by the home crowd.
Some might say it's because the energy from tens of thousands of home fans makes away players lose heart, but I don't think those who get discouraged by that are worthy of being professional athletes in the first place, so I don't consider it meaningful.
After all, players who are affected by that wouldn't perform well whether it's home or away.
But the reason I think there's a difference in performance between home and away games is because it's the referee, not the player, who is affected.
Even if the crowd's atmosphere doesn't pressure the players, it does pressure the referee. Whenever the referee makes a call unfavorable to the home team, tens of thousands of home fans boo, and unconsciously, to avoid that, the referee ends up making calls favorable to the home team.
And right now,
“Foul!”
“Why didn't you blow the whistle?!”
The referee who blows the whistle sharply every time I engage in rough body contact and takes the boos from over 30,000 home fans eventually snaps. The players returning to our side run over to the referee and say something, but the referee just moves with his characteristic stern expression.
“Focus on the game! Ryu, are you okay?”
“...Ah, ...yes.”
I gesture to the substitute that it's okay, but my body is throbbing from where I fell and hit.
I almost got my torso smashed to take the ball, but not even a card was issued, let alone the whistle blown.... My irritation rose, but since I couldn't ruin the game over something like this, I quickly got up and returned to my position.
Honestly, it was a familiar thing. In the EPL, even without a home call, getting fouled like this is daily life.
When I first joined Man United, I couldn't control my anger over such things and got sent off 2-3 times, but now I'm not the young player from back then. I'm a veteran.
'Shit, this is coming out dirty, huh? I'll return the favor.'
I know how to subtly get back at those bastards.
-Waaaaaaa!!! Aaaaaaaa....
The Juventus attack, starting a counterattack with a foul play, is blocked by goalkeeper Maximilena's fingertips, filling the stadium with Juventus fans' cheers. And the corner kick begins.
Bang!
The ball kicked long by Maximilena flies towards me, the marker for the counterattack.
At the moment I jump to receive the ball, Yasmine, the protagonist and Juventus midfielder who has been shadowing me since the start of the game, runs towards me while making a body check to create the counterattack.
Although the ball's position is closer to me, it's practically my ball, but Yasmine jumps high towards the ball without caring.
Although my height is greater, surprised for a moment by the jump power of the guy who jumps about one head higher than me, since the guy jumped from a position that didn't even reach the ball, I successfully redirect the ball's direction towards the Albari a waiting comfortably for the counterattack, and our bodies collide in the air.
“Kyaaak!”
No, not my body, but my elbow hitting the guy's face.
The referee glances at us, but doesn't raise his hand.
It was the natural result. I didn't hit the guy's face with my elbow, I just placed my elbow in the expected path where his face would come, so to speak. Strictly speaking, it was the guy's face that hit my elbow.
Well, whether the face hits the elbow or the elbow hits the face, the pain is on the face side anyway.
“Are you okay?”
Even after that, since I planned to subtly hit him when he comes again, I say kindly to the guy and run forward to make the counterattack.
“Ugh...”
The lying guy seems to be saying something, but since Yasmine just passed by when I was lying there, I ignore it like he did and run forward. With the corner kick situation, only about two defenders remain.
Albari a who received my pass advances using his unique speed, dribbling and running forward. If the team we were facing was not a high-level team, they might have given Albari a a path to the goal, but Juventus is also a strong team.
Also a strong team known for defense in Serie A.
The Juventus center-backs push Albari a towards the corner flag without giving him space inside, and at that moment, my eyes meet those of Albari a running behind me.
'Now!'
And at the moment our eyes meet, Albari a sends a cutback pass. The Juventus defense is in disarray due to the counterattack. The opponent's center-back in the penalty box sees the pass and runs towards me, but it's already too late.
Thud.
As soon as Albari a's strong pass touches my foot, it gently rises into the air. And I, like a backheel, spin once and create a shot impact in the air.
Bang!
At the moment I shoot, the nearby defender pushes my body, but I already feel the proper sensation of the ball on my instep.
If it was the usual situation, I wouldn't have shot such a trick shot, but since there was distance to the goal, for me with weak power, it was an unavoidable choice to pierce the goalkeeper's reflexes,
-Waaaaaaa!!!
The choice returned the best result.
'Wow.... It was about to be fucked. If I just shot, he definitely couldn't have blocked it.'
Of course, as the goalkeeper of a famous team like Juventus, the opponent goalkeeper's fingertips touched the shot I kicked, so there was sweat, but.
'Thinking about it, the goalkeeper I met in my youth was also from Juventus.... If he's the starter at that level, it would take at least 10 years to break through to the first team.'
Was it Daliah? Feeling sorry for the Juventus youth team goalkeeper I met when I was young, lying on the ground, Albari a who sent me a wonderful pass approaches me and smiles, extending his hand.
“Ryu! That was a fantastic shot. But isn't that too flashy?”
“Still, it was cool, right?”
“Well, it wasn't bad.”
Enjoying the teammates' cheers, as we return to our side, I feel Yasmine glaring at me, who hit my elbow to the face.
Since we're losing, the play will get rougher.
Based on my experience of playing over 500 professional games including various competitions, playing with players who have such eyes will only increase the chance of injury, so I think I should minimize time with the ball and play with one touch.
'If you hit, pull yourself together. This guy won't be stopped with one hit.'
Well, if I hit him a few times while pretending not to know, it would be better.
Now, there's about 20 minutes left until the end of the first half. It seems I need to beat his flesh to make him soft enough to debut Valentina today.
And the Juventus kick-off game starts, and our attack turn comes again, Yasmine starts sticking to me.
The enormous power from the guy's hand holding my uniform. He's only 173-4cm tall, but this much power.
Of course, it was also because I'm male and his power feels strong, but apart from that, Yasmine is already a guy with a reputation for such defense. As he plays for a strong team like Juventus, he's recognized for his defensive ability, and especially his strong body contact that doesn't match his small height is an advantage.
So, it's not strange that I get pushed by his power or feel like my uniform is locked in a lock.
Well, there is a way, though.
I try to move as much as possible, and when a momentary gap opens in the Juventus midfield, I raise my hand to pass. If this was a debut game, my teammates would not pass even if I was marked, but I am already in a state where my teammates trust me.
Lucia passes to me without hesitation, trusting me.
And at that moment, while pretending to run towards the ball, I hit Yasmine's shin with my elbow to avoid the referee's eyes. Since we were stuck close enough for the uniform to touch, the action flowed naturally, and for a moment, I feel the power leaving Yasmine's fist.
'Got it!'
Just as I shake off Yasmine's hand and try to run forward, due to the power felt immediately from behind, I can't go forward anymore and fall backwards. And over my fallen body, Yasmine, frowning, still holding my uniform and smiling wickedly.
“Hey, young friend. Can you knock me down like that? I don't know if it would work in the playground where you played, but here it's Champions League.”
“...It was a mistake.”
'What the hell, what does a woman's face look like like this.'
...And that smiling face was so vicious that I unconsciously flinched.
Pee - Ik!
“Yasmine!”
Fortunately, my technique didn't work on Yasmine, but the referee, who succeeded in deceiving the referee's eyes, blows the whistle and approaches, calling Yasmine's name. When the referee approaching our side tries to put his hand in his pocket,
-Uuuuuuuu...!
The booing fills the stadium again.
“...If you grab the uniform without mercy next time, it's a card, so be careful.”
“Wait, isn't it too biased to see the opponent as male? This is daily life for us.”
And in response to the referee's words, Yasmine shrugs his shoulders.
“Yasmine!”
“Well, from now on, be careful.”
Even so, seeing him not complaining to the referee about being hit by a woman in this world, he seems to have a tough side as he looks.
'Well, it's a good style as a teammate. Worst when meeting the opponent.'
With that, I watch the referee and Yasmine's handshake and stand up from my seat. Because falling down here continuously wouldn't be good for my image.
And when I stand up, Yasmine approaches and brushes the grass off my back and says.
“Next time, aim for the face like before. Young friend.”
“...It was a mistake.”
“You'll do it, right? Or, shall I teach you how to knock down the opponent? I know how to knock down well both on the field and on the bed.”
“...But you're underage?”
“Really? Wasn't it 16? Or 15? It doesn't matter. In our country, you can get married from 15. And what's the age matter? You're taller than me anyway.”
Where is this guy from? Was it Turkish? I think I heard it in the scouting report time, but I don't remember well. Still, it's clear that this guy's religion seems like it might be Islam. People with this kind of mentality are mostly Muslims.
Anyway, the guy is tough to deal with in thought and play. Especially, this tough guy seems to be the first I've met born in this world. Until now, the guys I've met would break after a few hits, but....
'Still, at Champions League level, huh...'
Now, it seems I should break through with the straight method rather than such tricks, even if it takes time.
'Tina, sorry. It might take a little longer to debut you.'