U20 World Cup (3)
"I got a call from Hawon. He says they want to meet with you over there."
An offer had come from Arsenal.
The news left me feeling good and flustered all at once.
"Why me? From them?"
I was playing well enough, sure, but I never thought I was already on the radar of a top-flight club like one in the EPL. Korean players had been putting in solid performances across Europe for years, so interest itself made sense—but an actual offer was something else entirely. The weight of a name that regularly sat near the top of the Premier League table was no small thing.
"Just my take, but their striker's contract runs out at the end of this season. They need a new forward, so they're poking around just in case."
"And I'm still young, so I'm cheap too?"
"Pretty much."
If I turned out well, lucky them. If I flopped, it was the club's mistake. A no-loss deal, in other words.
What was Arsenal like around this time?
Thinking back carefully, Arsenal in this era had been a perfectly decent side—hovering somewhere between third and fifth, never terrible, never spectacular. That very mediocrity had earned them more abuse than praise; fans kept asking why they couldn't climb any higher.
Come to think of it…
Mention of Arsenal brought one particular piece of football misfortune to mind.
"What's the name of Arsenal's manager right now?"
"Alexandro."
"Oh."
The name I knew.
Manager Alexandro. He had put in unremarkable seasons at Arsenal, then the moment he left for another club he immediately delivered a Treble. Plenty of people claimed it was only possible because of the high-level players he inherited, but he went on to win the league multiple times after the move and proved his own quality beyond doubt. Arsenal's media had made a huge fuss about letting a future great slip away, which was how I remembered the name.
"You're taking this pretty calmly."
"I look calm, but I'm actually pretty shocked."
Outwardly I stayed deadpan, but my heart was hammering. This was the Premier League I had only ever dreamed about—and from a club with real pedigree. Just picturing myself playing there was enough to set my pulse racing.
"So what do you think of Arsenal?"
"I don't really have a favorite team."
I had never loved or hated any particular club. I simply loved football itself. Arsenal, though, was a little different.
"But I do have a soft spot for Arsenal."
"Why?"
"My dad was a massive fan."
"Your father? Ah…"
The memories of watching matches with Dad were hazy, yet the traces of him still filled the house. One entire room was packed floor to ceiling with Arsenal player autographs and kits. Even the occasional stories Grandpa told about him made it obvious how much Dad had loved the club. Because the man who had become a star in the sky had loved Arsenal, I could never quite look away.
"I'm not saying I'll accept right away, though."
Liking the idea was one thing; signing on the spot was another. Deals fell through all the time, and there were still plenty of steps left.
"Have you checked social media?"
"You told me not to."
For the sake of mental management he had told us to stay off our phones, and I had actually listened. The others snuck peeks now and then, but I simply hadn't felt the urge.
"Right, I did say that. Anyway, if you look at social media right now, the Arsenal manager and players seem to like you a lot. They've mentioned you quite a bit. Even the owner."
"Really?"
A mention from the Arsenal owner. In practical terms, if I sat down and signed, a "HERE WE GO" would light up the transfer rumor mill almost instantly.
"Uncle."
"What."
"If Arsenal made an offer, other clubs must have come calling too, right?"
"Quite a few. From lower leagues all the way up. What do you want me to tell them?"
"Hmm. Hold off on any answers for now."
During the U20 World Cup we were stuck between hotel and stadium anyway; I couldn't meet anyone even if I wanted to. At the earliest it would be another week before I could sit down with scouts.
"Might as well win some matches and drive my price up while we're at it."
The better we performed in that window, the more clubs would start paying attention. Maybe even a few other big clubs would take notice. Of course the reverse was also true—if my form dipped, they would write me off as overhyped and the big clubs would vanish overnight. But I was confident.
I'll show them.
The raw gem they thought they were picking up was already a cut and polished jewel. I would make every single one of them want me.
Time slipped into evening.
At Lee Eunho's earnest-sounding request, I sat down with Hong Seoin inside the hotel room.
"Arsenal? They made an offer from there?"
"Yeah. They said it was for both of us—you and me."
They had probably figured at least one of us would bite.
"Last time it was Juventus, now it's Arsenal."
"What? Juventus made an offer?"
"Yeah. About a year ago."
"…If you'd debuted then, you'd have been the youngest Korean ever, right?"
"Probably."
"Then why'd you turn them down?"
I felt like I had asked this before, but what he had just said was so wild I had to ask again. He could have eaten that opportunity alive.
"They said no gukbap."
"…You're serious?"
"Dead serious. No Korean restaurants either."
"…"
His face left no room for doubt.
…Is gukbap and Korean food really that important?
A post I had once seen online floated up in my mind.
Everyone's standard of happiness is different, right?
Some people were happy just eating a meal. Some were happy playing games. I was happy simply playing football. For Hong Seoin, eating Korean food seemed to matter more—and bring more happiness—than even playing in Europe.
"Hyung. You enjoy football, right?"
"Course I do."
If he enjoyed football, there was still a solution.
"Hyung."
"Yeah?"
"I know a Korean place in London. Want to go?"
All I had to do was feed him Korean food in London. High-level football in a league he would love, plus Korean meals—two birds with one stone.
"There is one?"
"There is."
"How d'you know?"
"I looked it up."
I hadn't actually looked it up. More accurately, I had heard about it from Han Seonwoo in my previous life.
He said there was an incredible Korean restaurant in London, didn't he?
Back when Seonwoo was still tearing up the EPL, he had come home during a break and raved about how amazing the place was. He had especially praised the spicy, hearty soup. There was no way it wouldn't suit Seoin, who lived for soup.
"I'll go try it sometime and think it over."
"We've still got plenty of time, so think hard."
"Yeah."
The fact that Seoin—who would normally have refused on the spot—was even saying that meant he was already more than halfway convinced.
I should charge Arsenal a finder's fee for this.
I finally had a chance to drag a guy who had never left Korea out into the world. He might end up at some other club, of course, but we were both heading to the EPL either way.
I set the scouting talk aside for the moment. It was time for the Round of 16.
South Korea versus Uruguay.
Most people had expected Korea to struggle, yet we had topped our group with dominant performances, and now no one could confidently predict the result. Watching the former underdogs transform themselves had the entire audience buzzing with excitement, wondering what kind of game Korea would put on this time.
And the match itself was genuinely gripping. Korea produced razor-sharp passes; the goalkeeper pulled off miraculous saves. Yet every attack was snuffed out, and for a long stretch neither side could find the net.
A long, grinding stalemate.
Then, in the fifty-fifth minute of the second half—
Thud!
Hong Seoin collected the ball high up the pitch. The instant our eyes met I burst into the box. At the same moment a creative lofted pass came floating through the air. It was neither too fast nor too slow, yet the defenders clearly hadn't expected it; they simply stood and stared. A pass that would never have arrived if it hadn't been someone whose timing clicked with mine the way Seoin's or Seonwoo's did dropped perfectly past the defenders and onto my foot.
Boom—!
A defender closed in and the keeper narrowed the angle as calmly as he could, but I was never going to miss a one-on-one chance like that.
"Wooooooah!!"
I did my usual attendance-check celebration and jogged over to Seoin.
"You actually gave me that?"
"You asked for it."
"I did?"
I had only made the run thinking it might be nice if the ball came my way.
"Yeah. It's written all over your face."
"Huh."
This was what people meant when they said two players were in sync.
I think our chemistry is even better than with Seonwoo.
Part of it was that Seoin was an attacking midfielder, but he really did deliver beautiful passes. The more we played together, the more fun football became.
Once the first goal went in, it was as if a blocked artery had suddenly cleared. Our attacks turned razor-sharp, slicing through Uruguay's sturdy back line for a second goal.
The goals just keep coming.
We beat Uruguay 2–0. Whether it was the tactics or something else, the goals were flowing freely. My friends, and the whole squad really, seemed to be growing at an accelerated rate.
These guys are going to hit the European leagues even faster than expected.
Just as offers were coming my way, they were probably receiving plenty of their own.
"We won again."
Back at the hotel, Seong Yumin muttered the words from where he sat beside me. Everyone else had gone off to eat, so it was just the two of us.
"Yeah, we did. Yumin."
"What."
"If Barcelona comes calling, you're going straight away, right?"
"No point even thinking about it—I'm gone. Oh yeah, Uncle said an offer came in."
"From Barcelona?!"
In my previous life, contract issues had kept him from joining until he was twenty-two. Now he might go at seventeen. My eyes went wide and my mouth fell open.
…If you look at it that way, am I in a similar spot?
Given current prestige, an offer from Arsenal and one from Barcelona weren't all that different. Coming back to the past had changed so many things—every single one of them for the better. I was grateful.
"Yeah. Super aggressive about it. Said they absolutely have to bring me in."
"Makes sense. They would."
The first time he had played for Barcelona, people had called him the second coming of Messi. That kind of potential didn't just disappear.
"Why'd you ask, though?"
"Ah, I got an offer from Arsenal too. Kind of a tentative one, together with Seoin hyung."
"Yeah? You gonna go?"
"Not sure. I do want to play in the EPL, though."
"Then just go."
"Well… yeah."
There would be other EPL offers besides Arsenal. The reason I was hesitating was that faint, almost nonexistent attachment.
"With your ability you'll do well wherever you go, so just pick the place you want. Prove yourself the way you always do."
"What's gotten into you? Since when do you say stuff like that?"
"…Bathroom."
"Go on, then."
Seong Yumin delivered a line that sounded exactly like something Lee Eunho would say, then fled the scene, apparently embarrassed by his own words.
I'll do well no matter which team I join, huh…
I was carrying a lot of people's trust. Do what I want, then prove it. One of the things high-school football had taught me. My head felt noticeably lighter.