Proof (3)
Pierre, having conceded the opening goal, kept launching fierce attacks, but every single one was cut out by Kim Minjun, who intelligently kept his distance while defending.
Whether from frustration or simply because they were losing, France’s play grew a little rougher than one would expect from a friendly match.
They were stretching their legs and throwing themselves into physical battles so aggressively that it would not have been strange if someone got hurt.
If I had been on the pitch from the start, my ankle might really have been snapped.
They would have clashed roughly just to stop my unusual trapping.
Fortunately Seong Yumin and Han Seonwoo avoided those tackles as much as possible while creating chances, but the opponents were still the French U20 national team.
Regrettably, everything was blocked.
Even so, one could say they had shown everything they were capable of.
Dribbling, escaping pressure, passing, defending, even the saves.
People would now know they were qualified to play.
I want to play.
Sitting on the bench, my heart began to pound harder and harder.
Hard enough that I could feel it even while still.
Even after the second half began, remaining on the bench left me stiff and, little by little, tense.
Well, I just have to do well.
No matter how strong my heart was, the thought of tens of thousands watching made complete nonchalance impossible.
Sixtieth minute of the second half.
Just when it seemed the match would continue without incident, Pierre got the ball.
The defender, expecting him to drive forward, kept his distance, so Pierre slowly dribbled upfield.
Whenever someone tried to close him down he used only a sudden burst of acceleration to beat them, and when the center-back came into view he drove long toward a spot where the goalkeeper would find it awkward to come out.
Pure drive and run.
It showed how confident he was in his speed.
As if to prove it, he blew past Do Woojun—who had been keeping his distance—in a single instant and reached the front of the goal.
Only Kim Minjun, who had already sprinted back, and goalkeeper Lee Juwon remained.
As Pierre fully took his shooting motion, Kim Minjun stretched out a leg.
But as if he had known all along, Pierre shot a half-beat faster through the open legs toward the near post.
Lee Juwon, who had momentarily lost it, reacted to the very end and dived, yet the ball went in by the thickness of a sheet of paper.
…He’s good.
I had already known he was good from the first half, but watching the goal go in felt different again.
Even with almost no one cheering for him, refusing to be intimidated and simply playing his own game was impressive.
Soon…
Unlike Lee Ganghyeon, I called out to Lee Eunho, who still looked relaxed even after conceding.
“Uncle.”
“What.”
“Can I go in now? I’m getting stiff.”
The promised substitution timing was right after we conceded a goal.
The reason I was the substitute was because I could do things no one else could.
The trapping that could create variables.
To keep it hidden from the start so I would not be marked, then strike the gap when they were off guard after scoring.
“Alright. Warm up.”
“Yes.”
I had sat on the bench without a single objection for the sake of winning this game.
I stood and began to loosen my body.
With Korea leading, the commentators’ tone noticeably quieted the moment France scored.
[Ah… France has scored.]
[Pierre is incredible. He dribbled forty meters all by himself.]
A single star player had flipped the atmosphere with a super play, so the reaction was only natural.
If Seong Yumin had done it in the first half, Pierre had simply done the same in the second.
[Any tactical change from Korea?]
[Not really…]
Right after kick-off, just when it looked as though they would continue as before, a player warming up near the Korean bench caught the eye.
[Huh? Baek Yujin is warming up on the bench.]
[Ah, Baek Yujin has been the subject of a lot of talk even before the match. Some of it was too ugly to repeat on air.]
The commentators knew.
They knew what kind of hate Baek Yujin had been eating online.
For some reason only the hate aimed at him seemed to circulate endlessly on the internet.
The kind of abuse no one would ever expect a seventeen-year-old student to receive.
Claims that he was unqualified, that he was only good at trapping, that he was a parachute appointment—baseless speculation ran wild.
[Trying to change the atmosphere?]
[Manager Lee Ganghyeon must have had a lot on his mind.]
Yet even while Baek Yujin warmed up, the match continued to flow.
Sixty-seventh minute of the second half.
On a French throw-in, Korea finally played their substitution card.
The man who had been watching the match in real time checked the player coming off and the player coming on, then his expression hardened.
…Baek Yujin.
Baek Yujin had entered the match.
The crowd in the stadium neither booed nor cheered; they simply fell silent.
As if no one were there at all.
He’s going to be useless anyway, so why is he even playing?
He was one of the people who had been cursing Baek Yujin on social media.
It had not been extreme, but hate was still hate.
If he had to name a reason, it was the scrap of patriotism he still possessed.
As a Korean he wanted Korea to win, so when a seventeen-year-old student who had suddenly blown up on social media got called up, of course he got angry.
The other four had proven themselves during the first half, but he never believed Baek Yujin would be any good.
It’s not like this is some golden generation. How can five seventeen-year-olds all be good?
Statistically it made no sense.
Still, because he did not yet know, he simply watched the match in silence.
[Seong Yumin has the ball! Just seeing him get it creates expectation that wasn’t there before!]
[The confidence to show every one of his strengths in only seventy minutes is incredible.]
Seong Yumin received the ball and drove up the flank.
Trading one-twos with Hong Seoin who came to support, the two of them tore the entire left side open.
Thump—!
Timed perfectly to Baek Yujin’s run into the box, Seong Yumin whipped in a low cross.
[Seong Yumin’s cross!!! Baek Yujin is charging!!]
It was a good cross, yet a defender was right beside him, so there was no angle for an inside-of-the-left-foot finish.
If there was none, he would simply create one.
Baek Yujin planted his right foot, let the ball run, then flicked it with the heel of his left foot, changing only its direction.
The ball kept its speed and rolled toward the far post; Baek Yujin never even looked at it as he sprinted toward the center circle.
“Wooooaaaaahhhh!!!!”
Only the roar that erupted a second later told him the ball had gone in.
Yet he acted as though it were not yet time, dragging the nearest teammates with him as he crossed into the opposition half.
[Baek Yujin!! He’s scored!! The way he was already running as if he knew it was in before it even crossed the line!! What kind of confidence is that!!]
[Another star has appeared!!]
Because Korea had scored, the people cheered and celebrated.
…Just luck.
It had been an impossibly natural goal, yet it was still something that could have been scored by chance.
Feeling as though reality itself were denying him, the man refused to accept it.
Having regained the flow, Korea’s attack did not stop; it continued relentlessly.
As if they had no intention of ending the match like this, they pressed like madmen and won the ball back.
Han Seonwoo received it and built triangles in midfield, raising the possession rate.
The moment the French defensive line dropped all the way to the edge of the penalty box, Hong Seoin got the ball and sent a long pass out to the flank.
Seong Yumin took it, performed a light scissors move, and crossed.
The cross was aimed at Baek Yujin standing in front of the box.
A mistake?
It looked like a cross the center-back would cut first; the man thought it was an error—until the ball, spinning from bottom to top, dropped sharply before the center-back could jump.
Topspin made it fall abruptly; the center-back missed it completely, and a free chance opened for Baek Yujin.
Yet another center-back immediately charged in, creating a situation that looked awkward for anything.
At a glance it seemed he should simply keep the ball and play it back, but Baek Yujin planted his standing foot and set himself to shoot.
[Baek Yujin!! He’s choosing to shoot instead of pass!!!]
[Shooooooot!!]
…As expected.
He was doing that because he lacked experience.
He was not even considering the defender’s block.
The man thought that right up until the instant Baek Yujin looked ready to strike.
Then the next movement made his eyes go wide.
Thwack!
It had looked like a shooting posture, yet the ball that had risen with topspin met Baek Yujin’s left foot and, right there, floated up with backspin.
The center-back who had been tackling and blocking at the same time simply ran past him.
[What was that!!! A shot fake!! You can do it like that too!!!]
[Unbelievable!!! Shooooooot!!!]
“…Crazy!”
The man who had been watching the whole time let out a curse out loud without realizing it.
To pull a shot fake like that—how good did his feel for the ball have to be?
Then another moment that made him gape followed.
Thwack!
When the center-back who had missed the ball earlier tried to close him down, Baek Yujin performed the shot fake one more time.
[Wooooah!!! Once more!!]
[Shooooooot!!!]
Thud—!
“…!”
The shot that followed.
By the time he had witnessed the entire sequence, the man was already on his feet.
[Gooooooal!!!! Baek Yujin, a brace!! That’s a wonder goal right there!!]
“Waaaaaaaahhhh!!!”
“Wooooaaaah!!”
And he shouted louder than anyone.
He had touched the ball only twice and scored twice.
A brace in less than ten minutes after coming on as a substitute.
Insane.
He forgot he had ever cursed him and found himself liking Baek Yujin.
Beautiful play.
Play that made him want to keep watching, as if he had been seduced.
The thrill and pleasure of that moment still had not faded.
Those articles were true after all.
When he searched the internet he found a few articles full of praise for Baek Yujin.
They had been buried quickly under the malicious ones, but the fact that such articles had existed at all mattered.
Why did I ever curse someone like that?
Baek Yujin was one of the figures who would lead Korean football.
If he kept this level of ability, he would more than hold his own in any overseas league.
The man who had left mindless comments on social media now regretted the past.
With that thought he hurriedly opened social media.
As if someone had prepared for exactly this situation, a short clip had already been uploaded.
The content was a volley with a shot fake on an incoming cross—identical to the goal just scored.
He deleted every comment he had ever written, then left a new one on the post that had just gone up.
He judged that words like “I’m sorry” would be useless.
Not finished, the man went into a football community and even wrote a post.
He was twenty years old.
If you were good at football, you were hyung.