Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Red Flare Control
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***
Union Berlin fans’ loyalty was quite famous even within the Berlin region.
Berlin might be the capital of economic powerhouse Germany, but the area where Union Berlin was based was Köpenick, located in the southeast of Berlin. This was a region of East Germany that had been heavily influenced by the Soviet Union before reunification.
The economic gap between West and East Germany was so vast after unification that it shook the entire German economy.
As such, the majority of Union Berlin supporters were poor laborers, and the club they loved was in the same boat.
Union Berlin was so broke that it couldn’t even secure a license, but the fans loved their club anyway.
What mattered to them wasn’t the team’s results or trophies—it was simply the solace that soccer provided in their grueling, exhausting daily lives.
Victory or defeat didn’t matter to Union Berlin fans. As long as the players fought until the end without giving up, the fans were satisfied.
“Park! Park! Park!”
In that sense, Park Chan-hyuk was an assistant coach who fit perfectly into the hearts of Union Berlin fans.
Of course, when he was first appointed as assistant coach, most fans had opposed it.
That was only natural. Who would like an assistant coach and manager with no track record?
But public opinion among Union Berlin fans flipped quickly.
It was because the sincerity Park Chan-hyuk showed toward the club reached the fans.
Given the club’s history of persecution by the Stasi during the East German era, Union Berlin was deeply intertwined with its supporters.
They heard from club staff that the new assistant coach and manager worked day and night without rest.
And it didn’t stop there—Park Chan-hyuk even took the field as a player and scored a debut goal in the season opener.
[Does anyone know the address of a nearby hardware store?]
└ Hardware store address…? Damn it! Call Chan-hyuk! He’ll know!
└ Of course. If it’s Chan-hyuk, he’d naturally know a hardware store number.
└ Who the hell is this Chan-hyuk guy, you bastards!
└ You don’t know Chan-hyuk, our team’s ace player, assistant coach, and de facto GM?
Park Chan-hyuk was starting to become a meme at Union Berlin.
***
“Boooooooo─!”
“Assistant coach, get on the pitch!”
Hearing the fans’ playful jeers, I felt a mix of emotions.
A touch of embarrassment, and gratitude for their recognition of me as a player.
Truth be told, if we compared pure soccer skills objectively, Marcus Matcheke—who had replaced me—was better.
Even though it was the second division, Marcus was a promising talent who had received an official pro contract offer.
He’d suffered a career-threatening knee injury that dropped him to the fourth division, but...
I couldn’t deny that Marcus was the superior player.
[Name: Marcus Matcheke]
Current Ability: ★☆
Potential: ★★★
One-Liner: Potential diminished due to injury.
The scouter’s assessment of his current stats confirmed he was far better.
I’d started in the opener simply because I worried the players might make mistakes since they didn’t fully grasp the tactics yet.
And naturally, the fans knew Marcus was better than me too.
But they chanted my name anyway.
“Chan-hyuk.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget the cheers the fans are giving you right now.”
I nodded at Thomas Tuchel’s words.
Truth be told, I’d never played for a team as passionate as Union Berlin.
No, I’d never even received cheers from fans on the pitch. In my past life, I quit soccer after realizing the talent gap once I got to high school.
That’s why I couldn’t understand why famous players would even take pay cuts to stay with their clubs.
Even after becoming a manager, I’d tell players to respect the fans and that their salaries came from the fans’ love.
But if asked whether that came from the depths of my heart, I’d probably have said ‘no.’
The difference between knowing something in your head and feeling it in your chest was bigger than I’d thought.
I stared blankly at the fans for a while.
“Chan-hyuk, the match has started. Focus.”
Until Thomas Tuchel called me again.
“Huh? Yes!”
I quickly turned my head and focused on the game.
It was time to concentrate on my main job as assistant coach.
***
The league’s second match between Union Berlin and Tennis Borussia Berlin.
The game kicked off with the referee’s whistle.
‘The flow isn’t good.’
Tennis Borussia Berlin’s manager stared at the pitch with a grave expression.
Unlike the media or other managers, he didn’t dismiss the combo of a thirty-something manager and a teenage assistant coach.
He might be a run-of-the-mill lower-league manager bouncing between the third and fifth divisions, but decades of steadily holding coaching positions had honed his instincts.
Those instincts, built from years of experience, were sending him a strong warning about Thomas Tuchel and Park Chan-hyuk.
Watching Union Berlin press relentlessly from the previous game and the start of this one confirmed his hunch.
‘They definitely don’t seem like guys who’ll stick around the lower leagues.’
He envied the young duo’s talent but didn’t let petty jealousy or envy consume him.
Life was like that—everyone had their own path.
Soccer had no single right answer.
***
[Go, gooooal─! Tennis Borussia Berlin takes the lead with the first goal!]
Union Berlin dominated possession, but Tennis Borussia Berlin struck first.
[A single counterattack shakes Union Berlin’s net! The ball cleared from defense goes to Frank Bortmann, and Frank Bortmann doesn’t miss his chance!]
Thomas Tuchel harshly scolded the player who’d made the mistake. The defender should have prioritized delaying, but he’d lunged in recklessly and gotten beaten.
“Günter!! You idiot!”
After unleashing a barrage of curses,
Thomas Tuchel coldly analyzed the pitch.
Soccer had no right answers, but it did have wins and losses.
To maximize the chances of victory, he analyzed everything about the opponent.
That meant a flood of work for Park Chan-hyuk, but
Park Chan-hyuk handled it all, drawing on his past-life skills.
Tuchel’s eyes caught sight of Park Chan-hyuk encouraging the players, telling them it was okay.
Tuchel didn’t pay much attention to individual players.
He might feel a bond with those who relentlessly trained despite lacking talent, reminding him of his past, but generally he kept his distance.
‘I can leave player management to Chan-hyuk for now.’
Tuchel gave a slight nod and turned his gaze back to the pitch.
In any case,
Even though Union Berlin had conceded and was trailing,
Tuchel didn’t think they would lose.
‘They don’t have any flashy tactics.’
The opponent was an experienced manager, but not one with standout talent.
“Schulz! Tell Yannick to push up a bit more. And if a shooting chance opens in the box, tell him not to hesitate— just strike.”
He gave concise instructions that even average players could understand.
It was meant for Daniel Teixeira to draw defenders’ eyes while creating space to exploit, but he didn’t spell it out.
‘They won’t get it mid-game anyway.’
It was a simple instruction, but
It brought a clear change to the pitch.
Right before halftime,
Yannick Feith slotted home the ball laid off by Daniel Teixeira to equalize.
***
It was only natural that Park Chan-hyuk’s family became Union Berlin fans.
With any sports club, the fastest way to become a fan was to pour your own money into the team.
“You bastard! How do you miss that!”
The news that their daughter and son had invested tens of billions into Union Berlin turned the two—who’d had zero interest in soccer—into the most diehard fans on earth.
“Why are they booing Chan-hyuk?”
“Well...?”
“They’re telling him to play in the match?”
“Then it’s not booing in a bad way.”
Of course, since they still had some rationality left, they were flustered when Union Berlin fans jeered at Park Chan-hyuk...
“Oh my, isn’t that a fire over there?”
“Mom, that’s called red flares. It’s like fireworks.”
“Where can I buy some? I want to join in.”
...but in every other way, Park Chan-hyuk’s family was blending right in with the other fans.
***
To Germans, red flares were something that expressed the identity of the Germanic people.
Germans’ obsession with red flares surpassed Koreans’ obsession with rice farming by leaps and bounds.
“Don’t overdo it, or the fines will skyrocket. Light them in moderation like we practiced!”
Amid the club’s financial crisis, Union Berlin fans’ red flare control...
...had reached the level of maximum happiness with minimum fines.
***