Chapter 77
Chapter 77
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: vs Stuttgart -3
-----------------------------------------------------------------
***
Stuttgart's fans couldn't hide their confusion at the sight of the opposing manager running over and clapping.
"...Who the hell is that guy?"
An unfamiliar Asian had approached the corner flag, raised both hands, and was showing respect to their home team, of all things.
Unlike in Korea, where fans watched every game featuring Korean players or all the big overseas clubs, it was common in Europe for supporters to only follow their own team's matches.
Naturally, knowing about a lower-league manager was rare.
"The opposing manager."
But that didn't mean there were no hardcore soccer fans.
One Stuttgart fan who followed down to the 2. Liga answered.
"He looks super young."
"Around twenty?"
"What? Twenty? And he's the manager?"
"He was famous before, the teenage assistant coach in the fourth division."
"Oh, that team already climbed to 2. Liga?"
"Not just 2. Liga—they look set to hit the Bundesliga next season."
"But why's he doing that? Isn't that a celebration showing respect to the home team?"
"No idea."
***
It stung a little that the Stuttgart fans hadn't recognized me.
But a moment's thought made it obvious.
After all, only a tiny fraction of fans would remember a youth player who'd never even sniffed the Bundesliga.
To them, I was just one face in a crowd of hundreds.
My skin color might've drawn some eyes, but they'd probably forgotten me soon after.
'My position wasn't one that grabbed fan attention anyway.'
I'd played defensive midfielder—a role where mistakes screamed out, but great play went unnoticed.
That was why, years later, Rodri winning the Ballon d'Or as the 'first' defensive midfielder for Man City was such a big deal.
'Though that was partly because those two—Messi and Ronaldo—had hogged it all for like thirteen years straight.'
Anyway, after Yanick Peitz's goal, the match turned into a brutal grind.
Stuttgart pressed Union Berlin hard, desperate for an equalizer.
We hit them with counterattacks that had their hearts skipping beats.
Union Berlin's defenders threw their bodies on the line for every Stuttgart shot.
But even with all that grit, the basic physical gap was too much.
Stats like possession started pulling apart.
Sami Khedira intercepted the ball and fed it to overlapping Andreas Beck.
Stuttgart's counter sped forward. Andreas Beck reached Union Berlin's penalty area but was stopped by fullback Ivan Perkovic, so he passed to Mario Gomez calling for it.
Mario Gomez's shot deflected off Thomas Meiser's body and rolled out over the goal line. Corner to Stuttgart.
The corner kick followed.
Stuttgart's midfielder swung it into the box.
The ball met Mario Gomez's forehead perfectly.
With no defenders near, Gomez's header flew straight at Union Berlin's goal.
"—!!"
Stuttgart's fans and players sensed the goal.
Thwack!
Manuel Schmidt just managed to head it clear.
"Ah...."
Stuttgart fans groaned as Manuel Schmidt's roar echoed.
"Jaaa!!!"
"Nice one, Manuel!"
"Sorry! I lost my mark."
Union Berlin's defenders swarmed Manuel Schmidt with praise.
"I'll block everything! Don't worry!"
I clapped, reorganizing the defensive line.
"Their attack's not over—stay sharp!"
The game was far from done.
"And Manuel! Great save!"
I didn't forget to praise Manuel Schmidt for his super save.
A little extra praise never hurt.
***
The first half ended with Union Berlin leading 1-0.
"You all did great! Forty-five minutes left! Forty-five more gets us to the next round! Let's do this, right?!"
The defenders' dedication and Manuel Schmidt's heroics kept a clean sheet.
In halftime, I praised their hard work.
"Berlin! Berlin! Wir fahren nach Berlin! (Berlin! Berlin! We're heading to Berlin!)"
Then the second half kicked off.
Stuttgart's relentless attacks wore down the defenders' focus visibly.
Around the 15-minute mark of the second half.
I prepped my final sub: another defender.
'Please, just hold on a bit longer.'
All a manager could do now was cheer.
"Eisen, when you get on the field... Scheiße!!"
But the sub came too late—the goal beat us to it.
***
Second half, 32nd minute.
Stuttgart equalized.
"Ah...."
The commentator let out an involuntary sigh.
He'd been commentating Union Berlin so intently he'd accidentally become a fan.
And right then.
"GOOOOOOAL—!"
The caster snapped out of it, reacting with extra fire.
'Thanks...'
'No problem. We got each other's backs.'
The commentator shot a grateful look to the caster for covering his slip.
Soccer fans noticed the little mistake but let it slide.
- Damn, they scored ㅅㅂ
- Just needed to hold a bit longer! ㅅㅂ!
- But you could see the defenders losing focus.
Most fans felt the same as the broadcast team.
- Still, holding their own against last season's champs ain't bad.
- Yeah... it's just the round of 16, so focusing on the league isn't wrong.
- True, chasing the Pokal and choking the league title would suck.
As fans started tuning out one by one.
Park Chan-hyuk subbed in midfielder Lee Sung-jae instead of the defender he'd prepped.
"Oh! Manager Park Chan-hyuk brings on Lee Sung-jae! Lee Sung-jae enters the match!"
"Park Chan-hyuk's going for broke!"
"Exactly. This is Union Berlin's last sub. He's betting it all to settle it in regular time!"
Park Chan-hyuk hadn't given up yet.
***
For a split second, I hesitated.
Luca Schneider or Lee Sung-jae—who to bring on?
Sadly, the moment we conceded, extra time wasn't on my mind.
The depth gap between our bench and Stuttgart's was obvious.
Go to extra time, and we'd lose—that was the safe bet.
'Lee Sung-jae it is.'
Not because he's Korean.
Luca Schneider's role was already covered well by Marcus Matzeke.
Union Berlin needed someone to plug the stamina hole right now.
And Lee Sung-jae was the man for it in this squad.
Thanks to my training, he played like his past-life self.
More technical than before, but that wasn't bad.
"You got this? Speak now if you don't."
"..."
Anyway, I slapped the dazed kid's cheeks hard.
Getting thrown into a crisis like this would rattle anyone.
"Wake up!"
Slap!
Union Berlin had to gamble with a prospect sub.
"Manager... my cheeks hurt too much."
"If it hurts, you're alive."
I'd misjudged the force a bit.
But he was alert now—that was enough.
I let go of the ball, grabbed his shoulders, and said,
"Out there, give your heart to the fans in the away end! Don't stop running till they stop cheering!"
Normally cheesy lines.
But with the fans' roaring heat and sheer spectacle, they hit different.
Lee Sung-jae's pale face flushed in an instant.
"And pass this note to Levi."
Seeing his eyes sharpen, I sent Lee Sung-jae on as attacking midfielder, shifting Roberto Lewandowski from there to striker.
Yanick Peitz and Roberto Lewandowski.
Those two could carry Union Berlin to the next round—I believed it.
'Do it!!'
I prayed hard in my heart.