Practice Match (4)
After conceding two goals in a row, I kept trying to take the initiative with the plays I wanted, but the two dedicated markers who had latched onto me at some point stopped me from scoring.
Even the mid-range shots from the wingers and midfielders—who had more attacking chances than I did—were all saved by Lee Juwon.
Tweet—!
The whistle blew for the end of the first half.
Players filed into the locker room one by one. Before heading in, Seong Yumin slung an arm around my shoulder.
"When did you start dribbling?"
"I just did it. You said so yourself—all you need is confidence."
"Hmm. I did say that."
He seemed to have forgotten he'd ever said such a thing.
Looking at the smiling Seong Yumin, I said what I felt I should.
"Yumin."
"Yeah? What?"
"Take care of your knees. You've got to go to Barcelona."
Seong Yumin was a culer—a fan who had started playing soccer after watching the old Barcelona side.
He had vowed since childhood to go there, so he spoke Spanish like a native.
But because he dribbled too much, he suffered a knee injury at a young age and retired.
In my previous life, how deeply he had regretted only lasting three years after joining Barcelona.
After retiring he did play golf with me, but…
Maybe this time it could be a little different.
I hoped the kids would get to play soccer for a long time.
"Haha. What's with the worry? Well, I'll take it positively."
"Yeah. Tell Juwon to look after his shoulders too."
Lee Juwon was the same. He had retired around the same time as Seong Yumin from a shoulder injury.
"Got it. I'll head in then. Don't want people staring."
"Let's talk after."
"Sure~"
Seong Yumin went into the locker room first. I followed, searching for one person.
The moment I spotted him, I walked straight over and spoke.
There was still a little time.
"Coach."
The man I had found was Coach Ryu Ilhae.
"Hmm? What's up?"
"Why did you tell me to do whatever I wanted?"
Generally, coaches did not hand free roles to players.
Especially not to a seventeen-year-old like me.
I was curious about the reason.
"The reason, huh. Is that necessary?"
"…What?"
"Yujin. How did you feel during the match?"
"Of course it was fun."
"More fun than usual, wasn't it?"
"…Yeah. It was."
Every time I ran, it had felt a little more vivid, a little more electric.
I had thought it was simply because I was playing soccer.
"You don't play proactively. Probably because Seonwoo's passes are so good you never needed to. And Seong Yumin would handle things on his own."
"…"
I stayed quiet in agreement, and he continued.
"Soccer isn't only fun when you score. It's fun just when the passes connect smoothly. Fun just when you win one defensive duel."
"…"
"The joy of creating a goal by playing proactively. I wanted you to know that. And I believed you could do it. Is that enough?"
"…Yes."
My head felt clear somehow.
The doubts that had been rising without me noticing seemed to have vanished.
"What. I just did a coach's job. Now come along—we're talking tactics."
"Yes."
Somehow, I felt I could do better in the second half.
In the locker room I listened to the coach, wiped off sweat, and rested. Time slipped by quickly.
"Play with confidence!!! You die if you lose? Show everything you want to do—everything you want them to see!!!"
"Yes!!!"
The Seongil High players, who had lost their fighting spirit after conceding two goals in a row, stepped back onto the pitch with their will restored.
It hasn't completely disappeared.
Fighting spirit was not something a few words could fully recover.
The atmosphere had brightened somewhat, but we still had to reverse the flow of a match we were losing.
Tweet—!
The second half began with Seowon High kicking off.
Building from the back with Lee Juwon—whose feet were excellent—Seowon suddenly sprayed a ball out to the side where Seong Yumin was making a run.
A bold pass made possible only because the attacking momentum still belonged to Seowon.
Seong Yumin received the ball in a good pocket of space and, just as Jang Hoyeon closed in, beat him with a long step-over. But Do Woojun, already anticipating the dribble, covered across and won the ball.
Nice cover. It's Hoyeon again.
Seong Yumin was good, but strangely Jang Hoyeon kept making mistakes.
Probably because of his low self-esteem.
That needs to be fixed.
At that moment two markers closed on me at the front.
"Again? I'm a first-year—this is excessive."
I had been about to try something to swing the momentum, and once more two of them stuck to me.
To receive the ball I would have to drop all the way into midfield, and that would just be a repeat of the first half.
Doing nothing, then conceding again.
"…"
"…"
Even when I muttered, the two of them never looked at me; they simply sealed the space.
Wait.
I kept moving anyway, hunting for openings.
Even without the ball I created space and helped the team.
We manufactured chances, only for them to die on a defender's cut or a brilliant save from the keeper.
Seowon High could not finish their attacks easily either. In the fifty-fifth minute of the second half, Seongil High sent on a substitute.
A midfielder came off; a third-year striker named Kang Un came on.
In my previous life, Han Seonwoo had told me this was a striker who converted only half the passes he received.
But I was smiling.
Different.
Contrary to what Han Seonwoo had said, his finishing was pretty good.
Not the "can't even convert half" level.
Unlike me he had a solid frame—a classic center-forward.
Whether it was because I was there or not, he was also full of fire.
"Yujin, 4-4-2."
"Ah, yes."
4-4-2.
The formation that suited me best for doing whatever I wanted.
Two up top, but as the second striker I could roam freely.
The midfielders would have to run themselves into the ground, but if I scored they would love me for it.
The formation changed and play restarted.
The moment I dropped off the front line, the opposing players showed a flicker of confusion.
Now the counterattack begins.
From the substitution onward, the atmosphere of the match began to shift.
Sixty-fifth minute of the second half.
When Seongil High made their change, Seowon High responded by bringing on a defensive midfielder to tighten their shape even further.
Seongil High attacked as if it did not matter.
What stood out most was striker Baek Yujin dropping deep, forming triangles with the midfielders and opening passing lanes.
The moment the dedicated markers left him, he was running riot across the pitch.
His absurd sense of the game was on full display.
No goal had come yet, but the flow was such that one would not have been surprising at any moment.
There was a world of difference between having one passer and having two.
From the opponent's perspective, whoever received the ball was a threat.
Baek Yujin and Han Seonwoo were exploiting that psychology perfectly as they circulated possession.
We've got the initiative.
The momentum was almost completely ours now.
Possession was climbing steadily; the other side looked a little more anxious with every exchange.
Now we just need a goal.
With the ball at his feet, Baek Yujin saw Kang Un holding his ground in front of the box, wrestling with Kim Minjun.
Several options flashed through his mind.
He could feint the pass and dribble, or actually play it and receive the return for a shot.
Midfielders were already making runs, so the choices were almost too many.
Okay.
In an instant Baek Yujin decided and played the ball to Kang Un.
With his back to goal, Kang Un held it safely and returned it.
"Seonwoo!! Dribble!!"
Then, with a single touch, he laid it into the path of Han Seonwoo on the flank.
Han Seonwoo took it, body-feinted, stepped over, and drove down the side.
Kang Un used the force of his duel to spin free; Han Seonwoo slowed as if to stop, then suddenly accelerated and beat his man again.
One clear lane in his vision.
Cut-back.
The angle looked difficult, but Baek Yujin had seen Han Seonwoo complete this exact pass before.
Same as the World Cup.
Except for the counterattack context, the lane was identical.
Han Seonwoo whipped a low, fast ball into the box.
A defender stretched a leg. The ball clipped the tip of his boot and still found Kang Un.
Done.
The instant Kang Un shaped to shoot, Baek Yujin never doubted he would bury it.
Thump—!
Kang Un's first-time strike.
Even knowing it was coming, you could not stop it.
"KRAAAAAH!!!"
The momentum of the match swung fully to Seongil High.
Eighty-eighth minute of the second half.
Score: 3–2.
Twenty minutes of relentless end-to-end play had produced no further goals, thanks to absurd defending and saves on both sides.
"Haa…"
When a corner was awarded to Seowon High, Han Seonwoo let out a sigh.
"What's wrong?"
Baek Yujin, who had dropped all the way into the penalty area for a moment, asked.
"I don't want to lose."
"Hmm…"
I don't want to lose.
That feeling was universal.
No matter what you did, winning felt better than losing, and Baek Yujin was no different.
"Same here."
His heart had not broken yet.
He was only a little restless because the end was near.
Is this the last ball?
If they won it, it would be the final counter.
The thought that failure meant defeat made his mood sink hard.
Most of his memories of playing soccer were of winning.
Losses were few. Most of the time they had fought together and eventually won.
Old memories rose one after another.
"…I want to win."
The sweetness of victory.
He wanted to taste the fruit that came after hard work.
He wanted to feel again the rush of playing soccer once more, the thrill of that first goal.
A full match had pushed his stamina to the limit.
He had one counter left in him.
While he was thinking, the Seowon kicker swung at the corner.
Do Woojun, perfectly positioned, headed it clear. The ball dropped, by chance, right in front of Baek Yujin.
He trapped it cleanly without thinking and looked upfield—only to find no passing lane at all.
Even if Kang Un made a run from the front, two defenders would cut it out immediately. Playing to a winger sprinting down the flank left too much distance to the nearest defender.
Judging that, Baek Yujin simply drove forward with the ball.
They have to come up.
Everyone was exhausted.
But this was the last counter. The players had to squeeze out whatever stamina remained and push up, or the attacking options would stay too few.
He body-feinted past a closing midfielder, scanned again, and now the lanes appeared.
Not certain.
Still, no path offered a complete guarantee of success.
Dribble all the way and shoot?
The center-backs were holding their line too solidly, and too many players were tracking back.
Pull it back once and go again?
By then every opponent would have recovered; the chance of being bottled up was higher.
To make this counter work, he needed a variable.
Anyone…
As he reached the halfway line he slowed, widening his vision for someone making a late run—and there, from Seongil High's defensive third, one player was overlapping.
Jang Hoyeon!?
The first-year right-back who had started with such low self-esteem—Jang Hoyeon.
He was tearing down the flank at a ridiculous speed.
Like a racehorse in full gallop.
…!
In that instant a name flashed through Baek Yujin's mind.
If it's really him…
He would want exactly this kind of pass.
At the same moment the left winger was also making a run.
Baek Yujin shaped as if to play left, then used the outside of his foot to send a long ball racing down the right.
Fast and long. Aimed toward the corner area.
It looked certain to run out of play.
The Seowon full-back recovering to stop the counter was thrown off.
What? That pass? A mistake?
Especially because Baek Yujin had hit it; he could not help but be unsettled.
He tried to read some intention and felt nothing.
Assuming the ball would go out, he eased off—then felt it.
Whoosh!
"…!"
The surge of a racehorse thundering past from behind to claim the ball.
It was Jang Hoyeon.
"…Crazy?"
He accelerated late, but the boy was already gone. He was genuinely going to reach that ball.
Why?
Even Jang Hoyeon himself, sprinting to meet it, did not know why he was running.
He only knew that when he came to his senses he was already flying.
Checking over his shoulder again and again as he ran, he saw Baek Yujin—who had played a pass only he could reach—also making a run.
He looked like he was enjoying it.
Baek Yujin had never once lost the will to beat Seowon High, and he had never stopped smiling, as if he were simply savoring the game.
He almost looked like someone playing his first match.
How long had it been since he himself had run with everything he had?
Three years.
He had held back for three years.
He had not wanted to stand out, so he had never shown it.
No matter how much he loved running, he had not run.
Other people's criticism had made him stop himself.
You…
He could still see Baek Yujin sprinting to the end as if determined to win.
Maybe he, too, wanted to smile like that.
Because right now, while he was running, it was unmistakably fun.
He kept running.
He accelerated without rest.
The ball dropped at the very edge of the pitch, about to cross the touchline.
Jang Hoyeon, who had covered box to box faster than anyone, appeared in the Seowon defenders' sight.
Tak.
"…He caught it?"
"…!"
"…!"
The pass Baek Yujin had given was meant for Jang Hoyeon alone.
Seeing the full-back closing, Jang Hoyeon knocked it ahead once more.
Knock and run.
Memories of beating everyone with that single move rose up, and a smile touched his lips.
Before he knew it the low self-esteem was gone; confidence flooded in.
He flicked a glance and saw Baek Yujin and Kang Un both arriving in the box.
He lifted a cross toward the one who had found the perfect spot.
Perfect.
The trajectory of the cross was beautiful.
Though still not quite as beautiful as his own play would be.
Inside the box, Baek Yujin watched the rising ball for a moment.
Perfect.
Just like the Jang Hoyeon he remembered—even on his first overlap the cross was arriving ideally for a volley.
But defenders were already charging him. They looked ready to block the shot on the timing of the strike.
Baek Yujin prepared to volley the fast-arriving cross.
The play I want…
There was a play he had long wondered if he could pull off.
A play that, no matter how many times he imagined it, felt both impossible and possible.
If I volley it first-time, will it go in?
No.
No matter how hard he hit it, Lee Juwon would save it. The world-class Lee Juwon he knew was that kind of keeper.
Deceive them.
Then he simply had to do something no one would expect.
With the first touch he did best.
He drew his right foot back exactly as if he were about to volley.
He swung.
Two sliding tackles arrived on the exact timing of the falling ball.
…Is he smiling?
The defenders throwing themselves into the block were certain the ball would hit their legs and the keeper would claim it.
No matter how much he was smiling, there was nothing he could do now.
Whoosh!
But Baek Yujin did not shoot. He deliberately struck the underside of the ball, putting reverse spin on it.
"…!"
"…!"
The pace died; the spin took over.
The ball did not fly away.
It rose cleanly into the air like a lift, then dropped.
"Ah…"
Kim Minjun and the other defender who had slid open-mouthed, blank-faced.
Because what they were seeing did not feel real. Because the way he continued the motion as if it were the most natural thing in the world was simply too beautiful.
Without a shred of doubt he watched the dropping ball and volleyed it toward the far post—an image so elegant that calling him a noble would have raised no argument.
Lee Juwon had been fooled by the shot fake as well. Caught on the wrong foot, he was helpless as the ball found the net.
Ninetieth minute of the second half. 3–3.
Tweet—!
The whistle blew, and the practice match between Seowon High and Seongil High ended in a draw.