2018 World Cup Quarterfinals: Belgium's Golden Generation
The legendary golden generation! South Korea advances to the quarterfinals!
Meanwhile, thanks to Ryu Ha-neul’s assist for the equalizer and the winning goal, South Korea defeated Switzerland 2:1. Ryu Ha-neul received POTM in every one of the three matches South Korea won and currently sits at the top of the 2018 Russia World Cup POTM rankings. South Korea’s attack is a perfect blend of new and old: veterans like Yoon Seo-hee (two goals) and Kim Seul-gi (one goal) alongside Ryu Ha-neul (three goals). Many are already saying it could be a repeat of the 2002 glory.
Even as a man, Ryu Ha-neul is being hailed as the world’s best young talent. In this tournament alone he has scored three goals, vaulting him to third on South Korea’s all-time World Cup goal list behind Ryu Ji-hye (seven) and Yoon Seo-hee (six).
The world is currently in a ‘Ryu Ha-neul’ frenzy! Ryu Ha-neul’s SNS followers have surged by twenty million since the World Cup began. Videos from fans around the globe cheering for him are flooding in, and in Barcelona—where he grew up—his face now adorns every street since Spain’s early exit.
In Korea his popularity is off the charts. Rumors in the broadcasting circles say the first name on the recruitment shortlist after the tournament will be Ryu Ha-neul.
The quarterfinal schedule is set: France versus Uruguay, South Korea versus Belgium, Russia versus Denmark, and Brazil versus England.
The opening quarterfinal, France against Uruguay, pits Uruguay’s current top scorer Marisol (six goals) against Manchester United’s rising star Louise, who scored a hat-trick against Argentina in the group stage. The clash of two attacking midfields has everyone buzzing.
The second quarterfinal, South Korea versus Belgium, is also drawing huge attention. The world’s first male professional footballer in the women’s league, Ryu Ha-neul—who has been involved in every South Korean goal and delivered the most sensational performance of the tournament—faces the so-called golden generation of Belgium.
Belgium’s lineup includes Chelsea’s goalkeeper Koen, Real Madrid’s starting center-back Josephine, Arsenal’s ace Annie, and PSG’s leading striker Chloe.
The four quarterfinal matches will be played in the coming days. The most anticipated clash is the Asian golden generation (South Korea) against the European golden generation (Belgium).
The phone call came in just as the bus was about to leave the hotel.
"Haneul, be careful of Josephine. You know, the dirtiest player in Real Madrid."
"Oh, you know quite a bit for a citizen of a country that can’t even play football, Kami?"
"Sigh, yeah. Tease me. Tease me. Anyway, take care of your body. Let’s see after the World Cup. I want to play football with you soon."
"Yeah. Give my regards to Tina too."
"Okay! Haneul! Let’s win the championship! Belgium is a strong team, but with your skill, Haneul..."
"Wait a second."
"Huh? Why?"
"Hearing that from a Spanish person who can’t play football makes me want to sulk. Please refrain from cheering. I’ll handle the football myself."
"Hey! You really..."
I heard Kami’s voice rise and hung up. A brief silence followed. The reason was simple tension.
I had won countless Champions League titles, but this stage was virgin territory I had never set foot on before. Still, hearing Kami’s voice steadied me a little. Yet simply thinking about today’s quarterfinal made my heart race again. The tremor that made my chest throb this much because of football was something I had no memory of experiencing this many times. This tremor was unfamiliar.
“This is the weight of the World Cup…”
In my previous life I had been ready to quit toward the end, so each World Cup had brought more anger than excitement. Seeing football give me this tremor again made me feel I had been right to be born and to play football once more.
One more step to the quarterfinals. One more step from there to the final. One more step after that…
I had always imagined this, but this was the first time it could become reality. The thrill raced up my toes just from imagining it.
Of course the odds were low. Belgium, the team we faced, was one of the stronger quarterfinal sides. They were a powerhouse whose starters all played for top clubs and had never dropped below fourth in the FIFA rankings in recent years.
Especially Annie, the Arsenal ace and attacking midfielder, stood out. If she moved to an even better club she would be considered a Ballon d’Or contender.
Add Real Madrid’s center-back Josephine, Chelsea’s goalkeeper Koen, and PSG’s league-top scorer Chloe. The lineup was so stacked that every time I saw it I couldn’t help thinking, “If we had faced Denmark, if we had faced Russia…”
The teams that reached the quarterfinals were all formidable, but people are people, after all.
Still, even a low probability is a probability. As long as it wasn’t zero, a path to victory existed for us. And it was my job as the team’s ace to widen that path.
“Haneul! Let’s get our heads in the game!”
Slap. Slap.
I slapped my own cheeks to snap out of it.
“Phew, training went well, I did everything I needed to. Now I just need to show it on the pitch.”
The strategy we had prepared against Belgium was a ten-man back with me as the lone striker. We would stall and absorb the attacking play, then in the second half around the twentieth minute bring on attacking Kim Seul-gi and senior Seo-hee to decide the match.
Our defensive tactics, drilled intensely after the round of sixteen, had already shown results.
“Haneul. You know today is important, right?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Good. I’m counting on you.”
Of course the heart of that tactic was me—holding possession as long as possible when we had the ball. The coach still looked a little guilty assigning such a heavy responsibility to a young me.
“Coach, don’t worry. I’ll do well today.”
“…Yeah.”
While we were talking, players began drifting in one or two at a time.
“Good afternoon, Coach!”
There was still plenty of time before kick-off, but they had gathered so quickly for one reason: to watch the France-versus-Uruguay match, which could be our quarterfinal opponent.
Some players thought analyzing Belgium was more useful than watching other matches, but the coach had suggested clearing their heads by watching the France-Uruguay game, saying too much preparation could dull the mind. We followed his advice.
The France-versus-Uruguay match was unfolding at a blistering, attacking pace. The players gradually let go of their heads and focused on the first quarterfinal of France and Uruguay.
“Wow… Marisol really plays well, doesn’t she.”
“Louise is doing well too? Seul-gi, was Louise always that good?”
“No, not that good… but it feels like she stepped up in the World Cup.”
“Haneul, how about Marisol?”
“Marisol? She plays well. I just get the feeling her style is too individualistic.”
“…But if she keeps doing that, maybe some individual play is fine.”
“…Yeah.”
Uruguay took the lead with Marisol’s first goal. The way she weaved through three or four defenders looked even more impressive than the previous El Clásico.
“She’s really improved her ball control.”
After Marisol’s goal the match grew even more intense. We watched without noticing the minutes ticking by. In the tenth minute of the second half Louise equalized, and the back-and-forth continued.
Clap. Clap.
The sound of applause broke the flow. It was the coach. The clock reminded us we needed to head to the stadium.
“Looking at your faces, the tension seems to have eased. How was it? Fun?”
“A little disappointing… We can’t just watch this and leave.”
“Chae-ri, aren’t you going to warm up? I’m a little sad too.”
Kim Chae-ri, the youngest among us, spoke without thinking, but no one blamed her. The France-Uruguay match had been so entertaining I wanted to keep watching.
“Yeah. Your reactions tell me you enjoyed it. I felt it too. This is what a World Cup quarterfinal is like. After showing us something like this, let’s not embarrass the global football fans.”
“Yes, Coach!”
“Good. Your expressions are much better than when we first gathered. Then let’s go. And let’s come back winners.”
Now we were finally in the World Cup quarterfinals—an uncharted stage I had never stepped on before. Yet perhaps because of the fiery France-Uruguay match, my heart didn’t tremble the way it had when I spoke to Camila.
It did tremble, but the tremor was different. The source of this tremor was the thrill of wanting to show such a stage to the fans.
“Alright, let’s go.”
Feeling that thrill to the fullest, I stepped onto the bus heading to the stadium.