Spying
Maybe it was the high of wrapping up the Iraq match so cleanly, but the manager's experimental streak showed no signs of slowing down.
Having already tasted failure once in the Premier League and trudged through the hard road that followed, Martin Valde was desperate to make something of this—to get back to Real Madrid… no, to plant his feet on the European stage again, full stop. To produce results at the World Cup by any means necessary, he had started running roster experiments like a man possessed.
Syria and Indonesia, the unfortunate test subjects, could only watch the data they had carefully prepared get smashed to pieces.
"Ahead of today's match against Indonesia, Manager Martin Valde was reportedly hit with a flood of questions about that unusual starting lineup in his pre-match interview—and true to his word that he'd prove it on the pitch, the team is putting on a genuinely strong performance."
"That's right. They normally field around two holding midfielders, but today they've deployed three: Baek Yi-an, Shin Nam-hyeok, and Moon Tae-hwan. Baek Yi-an has ended up in a central midfield role almost by accident, but he's still looking sharp."
"Unlike the old days, modern football doesn't lock you into a position so much as define your job by where you're standing. As a player with a versatile toolkit, he's adapting fast."
"Oh! As we speak—Baek Yi-an steals the ball and starts driving forward!"
"He cut out Asnawi's errant pass with perfect timing! Baek Yi-an doesn't rush it—he calmly rolls it out to Lee Kang-jin on the wing! Lee Kang-jin! Trying to beat his man down the flank!"
"Ah, the touch is a little heavy—wait! Yoon Seung-hwan! In the scramble he goes down, stretches out a leg, and pokes it into the back of the net!"
The squad had been turned upside down so thoroughly it was hard to know what you were looking at.
To be fair, the manager's laboratory had already been open during the eighth matchday, and with qualification already locked in, Indonesia had surely known a few tactical experiments were coming.
What they almost certainly had not expected was a decision wild enough to shove a natural holding midfielder into central midfield and redeploy the star playmaker who normally ran the attack as a classic winger.
"Wow… watching that just now, I'm reminded of the 2018 Jakarta-Palembang Asian Games. In the match against Japan, Lee Seung-woon stole the ball off Son Heung-min in the box and buried it, right?"
"Exactly. Another unforgettable moment in Korean football history is being written right here."
"Same with Baek Yi-an recreating the legendary Eun-yong finish against Iraq—when young players come in, you really do start seeing new scenes."
"And with that, the score between Korea and Indonesia stretches to four–nil. Indonesia simply don't have the legs to climb back into this."
Tweet! Tweet! Tweeeet!
"And that is full time! Four–nil. Korea steamrolls Indonesia, and Manager Martin Valde proves his point once again!"
"Two–nil against Iraq, three–one against Syria, four–nil against Indonesia—three wins to close out matchday nine. You couldn't ask for a better start."
In the end, Martin Valde's fever-dream experiment was more than the test subject, Indonesia, could endure. They simply collapsed.
It wasn't a match that affected World Cup qualification either way—but three wins from three on matchday nine still carried real weight, and the press began flooding out praise for the Valde side's form.
The second the final whistle blew, reporters were already slamming out articles as fast as their fingers would move.
Of course they were—public attention was laser-focused, and riding that wave was the whole job. Naturally, the communities where football news lived had been buzzing for a while already.
After the third round of World Cup qualifying wrapped up, I was living a little more loosely than before.
"This is my first time at Munsu Stadium, and the facilities are actually incredible. Hard to compare, but… it might even be better than Jeonju Castle?"
"Ulsan pours a ton of money into Munsu. There's a reason it checks all four UEFA stadium category boxes. More importantly—your sauce is dripping. Eat already."
"Huh? Ah—!"
As the ketchup on the hot dog in her hand threatened to fall, A-yoon darted her mouth forward and bit into it.
In the old days, at this hour I'd have been grinding private sessions at the clubhouse, trying to make myself look good. Thinking about scenes like this, I could really feel that I'd carved out some kind of standing as a pro.
"More importantly, Yi-an. Are you sure you don't have to go to the clubhouse today? You used to go train every single day."
"It's fine. I didn't come to watch the match today—I came to spy."
"Spy?"
A-yoon tilted her head at that. Her face said, If you came to watch, just say you came to watch—what is this 'spying' business?
To be fair, our manager had made almost the same face when he heard me out.
"So… what you're saying, Yi-an, is you want to skip a day of training to go on a date with your girlfriend up in Ulsan."
"Boss. It's not a trip—it's a recon mission. I'm no analyst, but I'll watch Ulsan take on Seoul and bring back a full breakdown of Seoul's tactics."
"Ha… this kid, I swear. Fine. You've worked hard, so I'll give you one day off—go have fun. Just don't cause any trouble."
"Come on, I told you I'm going to spy."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it—now get out of here, you brat!"
For a manager, it was a pretty cold send-off to the youngest player in the squad—dragging his exhausted body all the way from Jeolla to Gyeongsang after national team duty just to analyze Seoul. Still, that was part of our manager's charm, so I magnanimously decided to understand.
Well, to be fair, the trip out to Munsu Stadium did feel like a date. We hit a nice café nearby and even stopped by the ocean once.
Even so, I never forgot my real mission.
Until now I'd been Baek Yi-an, holding midfielder for Jeonbuk Future Motors… but who was I now?
"The man who will leak Seoul's entire playbook…"
I carefully pulled up my hood and fixed my eyes on the pitch.
"Yi-an… stop muttering nonsense and eat this. Stadium food, but it's better than you'd think."
"Yeah."
At the same time, I bit into the hot dog A-yoon held out.
Skipping training, coming all the way to Ulsan, seeing the ocean, eating food, watching a football match… by any ordinary measure, it looked exactly like a date.
But I still hadn't forgotten my duty.
Outwardly I'd keep the stance of a couple who'd just come to watch football. Inwardly, I'd tear apart every detail of how Seoul played against Ulsan—exactly how they'd prepared their micro-tactics—and when we faced them, I'd show them the full results of that deconstruction.
Nobody else even knows I'm here… which means—
My operation would go off without a hitch.
With that thought, I kept a quiet smile until kickoff.
"Ah! The camera seems to have found Jeonbuk Future Motors' Baek Yi-an just now, doesn't it? And next to him—that looks like the woman well known as his girlfriend?"
"Yes, that does appear to be Baek Yi-an, who's been putting in strong performances for the national team. He only just got back, from what I understand—seeing him here at Munsu as a spectator is a bit surreal."
"It really is. Usually when a player and his girlfriend come to watch a match, the player shows his face openly and the civilian girlfriend covers hers. Baek Yi-an has it completely backwards—he's the one hiding his face."
"Ugh. I thought we wouldn't get caught—how did they even know?"
"Yi-an… you're wearing a Jeonbuk hoodie. Wouldn't anyone be able to tell? At the very least you could've covered the 'Baek Yi-an' marking on the chest."
Busted by the broadcast cameras before the match had even started, the plan I'd so carefully prepared was thoroughly, completely wrecked.