The Ho-dongsaeng List
"Me."
Joo Jae-rim faltered for a split second at Ronaldo's wink, but quickly pulled himself together and answered.
This was one title he would never, ever yield to anyone.
"Haha, my apologies — aside from yourself, if you had to pick from the other players?"
The Valencia staff member burst out laughing and corrected the question.
Jae-rim fell back into thought.
Wink—
Cristiano Ronaldo, after only a moment of sulking at Jae-rim's answer, resumed winking like a man possessed.
...His eye's going to cramp up at this rate.
Jae-rim found the sight so painful to watch that he'd almost said Messi — then, out of pity, said Ronaldo's name instead.
"...Ugh. Cristiano Ronaldo."
The instant his name was called, Cristiano Ronaldo beamed, strolled over, and threw an arm around Jae-rim's shoulders!
"Get your hand off me."
Is it really that thrilling to have your name called before Messi's?
Jae-rim still could not fathom what went on inside Ronaldo's head. In an interview like this, having your name spoken ahead of Lionel Messi's was a triviality — a rounding error.
"Jaerimi, try copying me just once. SIUUUUU—!"
"Get lost. I'd die before doing that."
"Heh. Still shy, I see."
The staff member filmed the two of them, grinning. For all their bickering, the shot of the pair together was genuinely pleasing to the eye.
This video's going to blow up.
And a few days later.
Just as the staffer had predicted, the moment the video went up on Valencia's official YouTube channel, football fans descended on it in droves.
Meanwhile, that evening.
Cristiano Ronaldo was organizing documents.
This was a highly important duty — one befitting the owner of Valencia CF. These were precious records: the data that would determine the club's direction in the transfer market.
A registry of names — past and present — of those deemed worthy.
The document was filled with the names of footballers who had shone across every era. In Korea, it was known by another name: the Ho-dongsaeng List.
Naturally, not just anyone earned a place on it. To be written there, a player had to possess overwhelming talent or deliver magnificent performances. And above all — he had to acknowledge Ronaldo as the greatest footballer of all time.
Hmm. This one's been slacking off lately.
Cristiano Ronaldo crossed out a player's name — his recent dip in form had dropped him below Ho-dongsaeng standards.
That traitor's name was erased as well. In his club, there was no place for traitors.
Jaerimi...
Once the list was tidied up, Ronaldo flipped to its very first page. At the top of the Ho-dongsaeng List sat the name Joo Jae-rim.
The space around it was a mess. The name had been crossed out and rewritten, over and over — his loyalty apparently under perpetual review.
As his mentor, I must guide Jaerimi so he never strays down the wrong path.
Ronaldo resolved to do exactly that as he wrote the number 2 beside Jae-rim's name.
Lately, Ronaldo's antics had multiplied. Under the pretext of "mentor consultations," he'd launch into bragging about himself. When I stopped humoring him — my time was too precious — he escalated to showing up at the training ground.
"Jaerimi, I was forty when I won the Nations League, you know."
There he was, standing in front of me mid-practice, rambling on about how magnificent a footballer he had once been.
Well — I let about ninety percent of it flow in one ear and out the other.
And the next day, I headed to school.
"I'm off to school."
"All right, take care out there."
Two years ago, I'd completed Primaria — the Korean equivalent of elementary school — and enrolled in ESO (Educación Secundaria Obligatoria), the final stage of compulsory education in the Spanish system. The school I attended now, like my Primaria before it, was one operating in partnership with Valencia CF.
Oh, and my little sister had enrolled at my old school. Word had apparently gotten around that she was my sister, because there didn't seem to be any problems with racism or bullying.
"Jaerimi! Hi!"
The moment I arrived at school, kids greeted me from every direction. The attention I received was as scorching as ever, though things had improved somewhat compared to the past.
...Or maybe not.
The problem was that with their second growth spurt underway, the kids had begun to grasp the concept of gender — and now they seemed to be developing an entirely different species of interest in me.
...God, what a pain.
Well, these little gremlins inspired nothing in me beyond irritation. I'd spent more than half of my countless repeated lives as a sports superstar, after all. Feeling anything other than annoyance would be the strange part.
And honestly, how many of them actually like me for real?
At fourteen or so, kids know exactly what they're doing. There was a time when being a footballer — the dream ticket to becoming one of the coveted WAGs (Wives And Girlfriends) — sat at the very top of the career wish lists of girls across Europe, Britain included.
Ha. Christ. I have seen every shape and shade of human nonsense there is.
Being an object of desire for a pack of grade-schoolers was not, shall we say, a cheerful prospect.
Manager Julián Cortés Navarro watched his players train in silence.
Since the last match, a spirit of reconciliation had settled over the squad. The manager let out a sigh of relief — the worst-case scenario he'd dreaded had been averted.
A favorable wind was finally blowing through Valencia CF as a whole, but a handful of players still viewed Joo Jae-rim with distaste. That was human nature for you — people could hate you to death over the most trivial reason imaginable. Recognizing one's own mistake and turning around, as Luis Pereira had done, was the rare case.
Buzzzz—
And the most prominent member of the anti-Jae-rim faction at present was Endrick — the same player who'd clashed with Jae-rim over that free kick against Getafe.
That one needs demoting to the B team soon.
If Endrick had been so irreplaceable that Valencia couldn't function without him, Julián might have agonized, or hesitated at least for a moment. Fortunately, Endrick was no such player.
And a few days later, a perfectly legitimate pretext for sending Endrick down to the B team presented itself.
Round 34 of the league. Away at Sevilla —
"¡Puta Madre!"
The instant the substitution board went up, Endrick exploded, kicking a water bottle clean across the touchline in fury.
"Endrick! Show some respect for your teammates!"
Julián came down on him hard and without delay. This was flagrantly crossing the line, after all.
"Screw you! You show me some respect!"
"Save your tantrum for your own dogshit football! You're no genius, so stop acting like one!"
As the surrounding teammates scrambled to pull the two apart —
"Whew. The team's in fine shape."
Subbed onto the pitch moments later, Joo Jae-rim surveyed the scene with an expression of pure contempt.
Ugly as the manager-player spat had been, Valencia took the win against Sevilla in Round 34.
Four wins and a draw across five matches including the Getafe game had lifted Valencia past Celta Vigo into seventh place. Beyond a UEFA Conference League berth, Europa League football was suddenly within reach.
None of it had been Jae-rim's doing alone — but Valencia had won every single match he'd played in, so it was only natural that the fans adored him.
After the Sevilla match, an article from Marca spread through Valencia like wildfire.
An article about Jae-rim, published by Marca — a media outlet famous for its pro-Real Madrid slant. The message was simple.
Translation: Real Madrid wants you, so don't sign that extension — come to us as a free agent.
In truth, Real Madrid rarely pursued prospects through free agency. Compared to World Class stars, promising youngsters were comparatively cheap to buy outright.
And sure enough, Real Madrid had already inquired with the club about signing me — and been refused in a single stroke.
Because the owner himself, Cristiano Ronaldo, had screamed Not For Sale from the rooftops.
And there wasn't a football fan alive who missed the subtext of Real Madrid's behavior. Practically every club had been on the receiving end of it at least once.
Valencia's fans hurled a torrent of abuse straight at Real Madrid. When Madrid's fans responded with a breezy "what's the problem?", a bloodless war broke out across the internet.
I made it crystal clear in the interview that I had no intention of transferring anytime soon — and not a soul believed me.
"Jaerimi! Don't leave us!"
"I told you, I'm not leaving."
The fans cheered my words, yet the applause carried a distinct undercurrent of sure, sure, whatever you say.
Well, couldn't blame them. Valencia had always been the club getting its players poached. From the standpoint of fans who cheered these players on and watched them week after week, it must have been heartbreaking. Hence the ever-swelling persecution complex of the Valencia faithful.
"¡No Te Vayas, Jaerimi!"
...I said I'm not leaving.
Interest in Joo Jae-rim wasn't confined to Korea and Spain — it was running high across all of Europe. A prospect of just fourteen was tearing up La Liga, after all.
The label of greatest talent of all time, second only to Lionel Messi hadn't attached itself to his name for nothing.
"People fixate on Jaerimi's talent alone, but what we should really be paying attention to is his attitude in training."
One of the panelists on a football podcast was discussing what made Jae-rim so frightening.
"First, the thing we need to understand is that Jaerimi is a genuinely rare breed of genius."
He laid out the taxonomy of genius so the lay listener could follow.
"A rare type, you say?"
"That's right. With talent like Jaerimi's, football itself is just insanely easy. You know what defines players like that? They feel no need to practice. Football comes so effortlessly that they can't see the point of grinding through boring, tedious training sessions — so they don't."
"You mean what people call the devil's talent?"
"Exactly. Johan Cruyff, Romário, Michael Laudrup — they all belong to that category."
The host shot a cautious glance at the Barcelona-friendly panelist. Every name just mentioned had worn the blaugrana — as players, as managers, or both.
"So who else falls into Jaerimi's category of genius?"
The Barcelona-supporting panelist spoke up.
"Cristiano Ronaldo. And Lionel Messi."
The moment Messi's name left his mouth, the Barcelona panelist reacted with the force of a thunderclap.
"I'll be honest — I can't agree that Jaerim has talent on Messi's level. Look, I know he's putting up a phenomenal showing for his age. But to be mentioned in the same breath as Messi, he needs to prove it against the giants of the league. Real Madrid. Or Barcelona."
"With respect, Real Sociedad is a perfectly good team."
"They're not Real Madrid or Barcelona level, though."
"Eh? With talent like Jaerimi's, I think he'd hold his own against Madrid or Barça just fine. Besides... we've got a match against Barcelona coming up soon, don't we? Let's just wait and see."