Practice Match (2)
Crack.
In football, the word refers to a player with the capacity to shatter a deadlock and reverse the entire flow of a match.
By that definition, Seong Yumin was a crack.
If a player who could beat four defenders single-handedly and put the ball in the net still didn’t qualify as a crack, then who on earth would?
I already knew, but…
Even knowing Seong Yumin’s ability beforehand, it was impossible not to be impressed. That last sequence was enough to conjure the dribbling gods who had once defined entire eras. One hundred eighty centimeters tall with dribbling like that—he was a truly absurd creature.
Doesn’t matter.
Reminding himself that his own side possessed an even more ridiculous specimen, Ryu Ilhae kept his cool. Even if the defense could have stopped it with better play, he could hardly curse the defenders he had personally entrusted with the job.
It isn’t over yet.
Only a single goal had been scored. It had come in the fifth minute—but that also meant there was still plenty of time left. He understood how a defender felt having to contain several geniuses and a crack winger, yet it was far too early to collapse.
Woojun…
Do Woojun was the sort of player who admitted his mistakes at once and immediately set about learning from them. Once he had been beaten, he would not be beaten again—at least not until some new variable appeared.
He’ll manage the team’s mental state as well.
In those five minutes Ryu Ilhae had roughly mapped out their tactics and overall strength. Now it was time for the coach to issue instructions.
“Seonwoo!! Attacking mid!!”
The call meant Baek Yujin was to station himself between the defenders and midfielders of the 4-4-2, while Han Seonwoo was to push forward aggressively, as though he truly were an attacking midfielder.
It’s possible.
Kim Taesik would catch on quickly and change tactics, but Baek Yujin would still have roughly three chances to receive the ball and manufacture opportunities.
Three times.
It might look like few. It was few. But the Baek Yujin that Ryu Ilhae knew was a player who created variables out of three chances.
Seong Yumin was riding high after scoring. He briefly wondered whether that kind of celebration in a practice match might be a bit much, but Seowon High’s side looked thoroughly used to it, and Seongil High’s side simply didn’t care.
Has he mellowed a little?
Maybe it was because they were opponents now, but his unhinged streak seemed less pronounced. When they had been teammates, he had definitely been more unhinged.
“Hey~ Still think I’m just a Crack Wannabe?”
“Yeah. You’re a wannabe. Period.”
“Ha. What if I score a hat-trick? Will you acknowledge me then?”
Why did he want recognition so badly? Come to think of it, Yujin had always teased him by calling him a wannabe.
Was it because his dribbling was too good?
He couldn’t remember clearly, but the first time he had seen Seong Yumin at fourteen, that flashy dribbling had made him jealous. After they became friends the memory had blurred and he had simply forgotten.
“Well, I’ll think about it.”
Honestly, even if the kid scored a hat-trick, Yujin would probably still call him Crack Wannabe now and then.
“You heard that? Okay! Hyungs! Just two more goals for me!”
“Heh.”
Seong Yumin headed back toward Seowon’s half. I dropped briefly into our defensive shape and approached Do Woojun.
“You’re going to mark him personally now, right?”
“Yeah. Should’ve marked him from the start. I’ll stop him as best I can—so go score some goals.”
“I’ll try.”
“Don’t tell me it’s Kim Minjun? You’re not saying you can’t get past him, are you?”
“Haha.”
He was needling me on purpose.
“You got past him once too, hyung.”
“Only once, though.”
“…I’m heading up for the kickoff. Seonwoo—attacking mid?”
Leaving the morale work to Do Woojun, I moved forward and asked Han Seonwoo.
“Yeah. Run however you want. I’ll get it to you somehow.”
“Mm. Okay.”
That was not him actually coming up as an attacking midfielder—it was a smokescreen.
Now I’m the important one.
A smokescreen for the role that had been assigned to me.
“Yujin. When I say Seonwoo is moving to attacking mid, from that moment on you move between their defenders and midfielders.”
“You mean move behind the midfielders?”
“Right. You get it immediately. Just do what you always do. That’ll be enough.”
“Understood.”
As instructed, I now had to move out of the opposing midfielders’ line of sight. Receive the ball there, control the tempo. For a stretch of the match I would essentially be the attacking midfielder. Han Seonwoo was the smokescreen to keep the other side from catching on, and the one carrying the ball forward in the buildup.
There would probably be about three chances. Maybe even fewer.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Peeep—!
Right as I finished organizing my thoughts, the referee blew the whistle. I immediately played it to Han Seonwoo.
Unlike before the goal, Seowon High was not pressing hard. Without much intensity we advanced into their half without losing the ball.
Harder than I thought.
Receiving the ball between midfielders and defenders was a genuinely awkward problem for the opposition. No matter how hard an opposing midfielder tried to mark me, his eyes were drawn to the ball farther up the pitch, so he had to hold his position and simply block space. And even if a defender saw me, stepping up to challenge would collapse the defensive line and open space—so he could do nothing to me either.
In a 4-4-2, no one could stick to me directly. It was an almost invincible pocket that was nearly impossible to mark.
But for defenders and midfielders to shift at the same time while still maintaining the gap between them, tracking the ball’s position and every movement of our side—that was no easy task at all.
The flanks.
Put another way: as long as I possessed the vision to grasp everything at once, I could pull off most of the plays I wanted.
“Seonwoo!”
After checking my surroundings I sprinted sideways and called out. Han Seonwoo immediately found me with a pass. Receiving it, I spun toward the opponent’s goal and played the ball on to the winger Ahn Hyeonjae, who was already racing into the space I had spotted earlier.
Clean trapping, then a burst of pace. The opposing fullback lost Ahn Hyeonjae to the sudden change of tempo.
Just as I was about to make a run into the box looking for a cross, I saw it.
“Damn it!”
Our winger yelling after Kim Minjun cut out the ball. The instant I passed, he had seen the fullback lose his man and immediately covered. Kim Minjun’s mouth was moving—he was probably spouting another famous quote.
Fortunately he had cleared it long, and Do Woojun recovered possession.
Consistent as ever.
From covering nearly the entire defensive range to his physical battles and pure defensive craft—even though his partner was a third-year, the fact that Minjun’s ability never fell short suggested he had grown even further.
About two left now?
The coach had said that after I received the ball a few times, the opposing coach would catch on and change tactics. The chances I still had to create something from this pocket were probably two.
Let’s try.
If receiving a pass was hard, why not just go myself?
I kept moving between the defenders and midfielders, hunting for an opening.
Even after Seong Yumin scored, Kim Taesik did not celebrate much. He stayed locked on the match that followed.
Moving between the midfielders and defenders.
Baek Yujin was operating with real intelligence. It had probably begun the moment Han Seonwoo started acting like an attacking midfielder.
That can’t be easy…
Receiving a pass and making decisions in that space required vision that encompassed the whole match and football intelligence that calculated everything at high speed. The instant you stopped thinking even for a heartbeat, you would be isolated. From Ryu Ilhae entrusting him with that role to Baek Yujin executing it—were they really a seventeen-year-old and a man in his forties?
He’s good, though.
Despite recognizing it amid Seongil High’s continued attacks, Kim Taesik stayed put.
It’s only a practice match anyway.
They needed to experience attacks like this. No matter how many people called them geniuses, without experience they could do nothing. Kim Taesik watched how Seowon High’s defenders responded and how the midfielders moved, then called a coach over to note feedback points.
Still, I should give some instructions.
Seowon High’s midfielders had probably realized it subconsciously as well. Even now they were conscious of Baek Yujin and clogging the space.
It’d be nice if he took a shot soon…
He was curious how Lee Juwon’s abilities would look in an actual match. Having already seen the kid’s footwork and buildup, he now wanted to know whether he could catch, punch, and dive without tension.
Hmm?
Just then, Baek Yujin received the ball in open space and began dribbling toward goal.
He had never heard of the boy dribbling. Of course, as a striker he would be at least competent. But Baek Yujin was known for receiving a pass and manufacturing goals with godlike first touches. Yet what was this?
He was pushing the ball forward with the outside of his foot. The third-year and Kim Minjun standing right in front of him both skillfully checked the flanks and dropped back. When the midfielders pressed as well, Baek Yujin was literally surrounded from every direction.
Normally he would have played it straight back and reset. This time he ran forward.
Just once, he wanted to do as he pleased.
I can do this.
He had confidence—confidence that he could succeed with the dribbling he had been practicing. He had started by learning to beat Do Woojun, so he felt he could succeed this time too.
Dribbling?
Kim Minjun clearly had not expected Baek Yujin to try this and was visibly flustered, but he quickly steeled himself and took a stance as if he were facing Seong Yumin. Yujin sold the dummy more skillfully than expected, as if he had practiced a great deal. When Minjun refused to bite and held his ground, Baek Yujin flowed naturally into a flip-flap. At the same moment a midfielder’s foot came in; he slipped past it with a la croqueta.
The movements were as natural as water.
…Insane.
While Kim Minjun was still marveling, the defender kept holding position and waiting. Baek Yujin used the outside of his foot to nudge the ball sideways as if preparing a long-range shot. A foot came in to clear it—but he had already struck.
Thwack—!
A beautiful arcing long-range curler. Heading for the corner, it would have gone in under almost any circumstances.
But—
Thud—!
Seowon High’s goalkeeper Lee Juwon dove as if he had known all along and blocked the ball. It flew out of play in a single motion, and a corner kick was awarded.
A sequence of a great shot and a great save.
Lee Juwon dusted himself off, stood up, and muttered as if it were nothing at all.
“As long as I am the goalkeeper, no goal shall enter.”
“….”
Baek Yujin, who had been jogging nearby, felt as if he had been smacked on the back of the neck.
Ugh. That chunibyo.
Normally he would have found it funny. Getting stopped from the opponent’s side of the pitch made him a little heated.
End-stage chunibyo and the Quote Maker.
He was going to break through somehow.