Chapter 9
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: One Coach and One Player During the Business Trip
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Amsterdam, Netherlands.
In what was called Europe's premier commercial city, I sat down for talks with executives from Dutch Philips.
"We got a recommendation from Philips Korea in Korea, but what we're after is the medical equipment business."
"If you've come from Korea for the medical industry, you've come to exactly the right place."
The deals for surgical machines and radiation equipment to supply the National Cancer Center went off without a hitch.
Over a few days, we toured Philips' cutting-edge medical devices and laid the groundwork for Daeyang Electronics' OEM production through Philips Korea.
"Truth be told, I pushed for Dutch Philips over German Siemens in our board meeting."
"Hahaha, you made an excellent choice."
Philips at the time was eagerly pursuing joint ventures with Korean companies.
"Here's to more good business ahead, Mr. Lee."
"Same to you."
With company business wrapped up, I rented a hotel room and reported to the staff preparing documents for headquarters.
"The medical equipment delivery looks like it'll go through smoothly."
"That's great news, Vice Chairman. I'll get the fax ready right away."
Yang Jae-jun, Executive Director and resident at the Netherlands branch.
He was a powerhouse at Daeyang's European office, renowned for digging into trading partners before deals—personal details, family, hobbies, even their standing within their company—to provide the intel that sealed transactions.
"Vice Chairman, this deal's done, and I passed your soccer inquiries to Manager Jeong at the Naples office as requested."
"Ah, thanks. I'll handle that when I get there. Time to call headquarters and the Chairman."
I stepped into my private suite next to the guest room and dialed my father on the international line.
I briefed him on the Philips deal and got an update on headquarters.
"The Dutch machines will slot right into the National Cancer Center. On OEM, they're open to reviewing it but suggested talking through Philips Korea."
One win under our belt—relief there. For OEM, since LZ and Philips have a joint venture, I'll scout if there's a way to wedge in.
"I pitched them on contract production for Philips cordless phones. How's the telecom side?"
Negotiations are nearly wrapped. Shinnuri Telecom's stake from POSCO Group will stay with us via acquisition.
This laid the foundation for mobile telecom, which would later become our top cash cow.
"To grow telecom, internet's the key. Government's pumping money into IT, so we should go for high-speed internet service providers."
High-speed internet?
"...I'll dig up the names and fax them over."
An era of lamentations for some was opportunity for others.
I seized the moment to prep across all our ventures, one by one.
By the way, I hear you're snapping up land left and right? Body in Europe, but buying up plots in Korea—Seongnam, Jukjeon, Hwaseong?
"Ah, those'll come in handy later."
The chat confirmed Daeyang Group was firmly reshaping post-restructuring.
Once direction was set, Father invested decisively.
Anyway, do your best. Waiting on that fax.
The call ended.
"Ha, no mention of the soccer team, as expected."
True to form, Father never meddled after I'd pushed through my convictions—no matter the noise.
Time to do things my way?
Business in the Netherlands done, I geared up for soccer matters but paused on a call from Section Chief Park.
Vice Chairman, sorry. I pushed hard for a schedule, but van Basten's off golfing in Spain.
Park, handling both soccer and trade from the Blackburn office.
"Utrecht's just an hour away, but the earliest meeting's in two weeks?"
Apologies. They insist on meeting the moment he returns.
"No choice, then. I've got Naples in two days anyway— we'll link up en route."
And so, I shelved the man right in front of me for two weeks later.
I stared at internet articles on my monitor.
Marco van Basten. Turns from Soccer to Golf.
Utrecht's Swan Swaps Soccer Ball for Golf Ball.
Marco van Basten.
Netherlands' greatest striker, three-time Ballon d'Or winner, one-third of AC Milan's Orange Trio [van Basten-Gullit-Rijkaard].
Post-retirement, he lounged with golf—and was Dalglish's suggested "coach to teach scoring," my pick.
He claimed he'd never return to soccer, but my first-life memories proved that bullshit.
Coaching deferred two weeks; I prepped for Italy.
Off to meet Gattuso.
Even on business trips, my mobile lit up nonstop—this time, Dalglish.
"Drew with Nottingham—shame. But that 2-1 home win over Aston Villa? Brilliant."
Tim Sherwood's thunderbolt sealed the comeback; under Dalglish, four games unbeaten—two wins, two draws—sitting 16th.
At this rate, relegation escape was in the bag.
But close miss. Sherwood's officially requested a transfer—he's off soon.
"To where?"
Insists on London. Family business in Hertfordshire, apparently.
Player life aside, personal ventures and family issues.
"Not letting him go under three million pounds."
Hmm, winter transfer budget's ten million, all backed by your guarantee, right?
Standard budget, but my loan backing made it so.
"For signings, I'll snag a central midfielder to replace the one the manager wants—Sherwood."
True you've got your eye on Gennaro Gattuso?
"Know Gattuso?"
Scottish roots or not, a bit. Rangers rival, but heart like a lion—top bloke.
Dalglish approved a scrappy, tough central mid with mobility to sub Sherwood's technician role.
Scouts push Derby's Lee Carsley—not sold. As manager, backing Gattuso.
Call ended; I instructed the Italy branch residents.
"Manager Jeong, wine business nearly done?"
"Yes, just signatures left—they're keen."
Jeong Gi-cheol, Italy resident.
Veteran trader in headquarters' food division: European pork, sausages, wine, olive oil imports; mushroom and ginseng exports to Europe.
"And this..."
Jeong handed over intel compiled via Yang in Netherlands.
SSC Napoli was a faded glory in Serie B; nearby: Lazio, AS Roma, Bari, Salernitana.
Focus: Serie A strugglers Salernitana—scout one player.
"Tuttosport, Gazzetta clippings, plus intel from local press and agents over dinners."
"Ah, perfect."
Traders double as diplomats, con artists, intel gatherers.
Jeong compiled on my Sherwood-replacement midfielder pick.
"The player you're after—Salernitana's Gennaro Gattuso, right?"
"Yes. Spot-on prep. Current status, coach relations, family... damn, thorough."
"Don't know soccer much, but someday a Korean in the Premier League—like Cha Bum-kun in Germany or Huh Jung-moo in Netherlands."
"Hahaha, yes. I'll keep it in mind."
I left Naples wine to Jeong and prepped soccer.
Salerno, near Naples.
Population 120,000—smaller than Blackburn—this port city bustled with trade ships alongside Naples.
Home to Serie A side Salernitana.
That was my business.
Italian Serie A matches had a flavor all their own, distinct from Premier League.
Serie A then: 18 top-flight teams, bottom four relegated.
Salernitana, post-promotion splash signings, mired mid-season in relegation zone—dire straits.
Live in the era of AC Milan-Lazio title race, Fiorentina-Parma-Roma-Juve-Inter chasing Champions League—the "Serie Seven Princesses."
Far from that glory, Salernitana's front office—relegation all but sealed after thrashings—eyed me with outright hostility.
"So, the Asian running an EPL club's COO?"
"England's desperate for talent, handing director to some East Asian nobody..."
More hostile than Brits, zero filter on racism, chain-smoking sans apology before guests—these two Italian old guards.
Salernitana manager Delio Rossi and director Giuseppe Cannella.
Arrogant "piss off" vibes, but I went business.
"Want to sign one of your players."
"Got the cash?"
Horn-rims screaming money, I shot back firm.
"Not lire—American dollars, plenty."
"Your lot's scraping relegation too, but sniffing around pre-winter window? Things must be rosy."
Locking eyes with hostile Delio Rossi, I stated clear.
"Player transfer business—or petty dick-measuring contest?"
"Tch."
"Paolo, enough. Hear the man out."
Director Cannella at least listened.
"Signing our players? Millions minimum. We need 'em to escape drop, so premium attached. Note: relegation escape bonuses on any sale."
"If you're serious about selling, happy to buy."
"Fine. Who from the first team?"
From the player catalog, I picked one.
Tough gaze, mustache standout.
"Italian, but hustled two years in Scottish leagues as prospect. Back in fresh Serie A promotion, still team-cursed—grinds nonstop, hustle prospect."
"!?"
"Gennaro Gattuso. Italian, but UK-tested body. Want him back."
They exchanged glances; I lit a smoke.
Your negotiation style sucks, but I'm not leaving Italy empty-handed.
Hand over Gattuso.
My Tim Sherwood replacement pick.