Champions of the Copa del Rey
Raúl de Tomás charged toward the Espanyol fans in their white and blue jerseys. When he raised his clenched fist, the stands that had been calm as a still sea erupted into waves of roaring cheers.
[What a sight.] Harrison remarked, gazing at the surging crowd. [Had enough rest? Time to get moving.]
He turned to Ha Sunmoon, who lay exhausted on the grass after delivering the cross. “Hoo…”
“Sunmoon, you’re not hurt, are you?” Vargas asked, approaching as Sunmoon remained on the ground.
“Just catching my breath.”
“Good to hear.” Vargas extended a hand. Sunmoon took it and rose, then jogged toward the halfway line.
“That cross was insane. How do you even do that?”
“Pretty good, right?”
“Yeah, I was shocked. If we play smart, we might actually win this. I can feel the trophy in our hands already.”
The faces of the Espanyol players glowed with renewed energy. A team far removed from title contention was now on the verge of lifting the cup.
“Alright! Just hold the defense now! Stay focused, everyone!” Abelardo shouted as the players took their positions. They tightened their lines, determined to protect the lead.
[Know what matters most in moments like this?] Harrison asked. Sunmoon glanced his way. [You said Messi’s out there, right? He can’t be stopped anymore. The midfielders and center-backs have used up their yellow cards holding him back. No more cards left to give. You get what I’m saying?]
“You want me to leave the defensive shape and mark him?”
[Not mark him. Waste his time. The English way.]
Sunmoon tilted his head slightly. “So, hoof it up the pitch?”
[No! That’s only when you’re desperate. We counterattack instead! Keep their defense from pushing forward freely. Score yourself if you can.]
Harrison’s suggestion was pure, unapologetic time-wasting.
Beep!
— Espanyol have scored a goal worthy of their name. With less than ten minutes remaining, Barcelona are in trouble!
As Harrison predicted, Barcelona prepared to punish Espanyol. Busquets received the ball and immediately slipped it to Messi, who stood between two Espanyol midfielders.
[Whoa! That’s dangerous! Why isn’t anyone stopping him?]
Sunmoon sprinted behind the center-backs.
— Messi! He’s on the ball and driving forward! Messi~! Messi~!
His dribble was small, controlled, unflashy yet lethal. The card-cautious center-backs couldn’t close him down.
— Messi! Messi beats two defenders! He shoots!
At the critical moment, Sunmoon threw himself in front of the shot. The ball struck his instep and deflected high into the air.
— Ha! Incredible! He covers the space behind the beaten defenders at top speed! Barcelona were a heartbeat from scoring, but Ha has saved Espanyol once again!
“Nice one!” Olazábal ruffled Sunmoon’s hair. Cabrera helped him to his feet.
“Whoa… that was close.”
“Almost went in…”
Even the other center-back, Calero, looked shaken. “We’re almost there. Let’s just run down the clock.”
Barcelona’s corner kick came in.
— The corner is cleared by Espanyol’s defense! The ball falls to Ha!
[Go! Run!]
Sunmoon already knew what to do. He took off toward the Barcelona half at full sprint.
— Ha! He’s sprinting toward the 90th minute!
De Jong rushed to close him down. [Tch… I wanted to go for goal, but now it’s the sideline!]
Sunmoon hoofed the ball wide and sprinted after it. While De Jong delayed him, the full-backs recovered and blocked his path.
— Ha faces Alba once more!
Sunmoon glanced around. [No one’s coming up. You’re on your own.]
In seconds, Barcelona players swarmed him.
‘No way I’m dribbling out of this… What now?’
[No choice. This is down to individual skill. Either dribble out or… hold them up.]
Sunmoon recalled his time in Brazil. He wasn’t as skilled with delicate dribbling here, but killing time in the corner was something he’d done often. He nudged the ball slowly toward the corner flag.
— Ha! He’s trying to waste time!
UUUUUU! UUUUUUUUU!
Barcelona fans rained down boos.
[I don’t love it either, but ignore them. Winning is what matters. If they’re upset, they should’ve played better.]
Alba closed in quickly. [Hold them!]
Sunmoon’s stronger frame made it harder to drop his center of gravity like before, but the added muscle helped him resist. He withstood Alba’s pressure until De Jong joined in, making it impossible to hold.
Bang— Thud!
The ball squirted loose. “Ah!” “Damn it!”
Sunmoon hacked it toward the nearest teammate. Luckily, it struck De Jong and went out for a throw-in.
Sunmoon tried to take his time, but the ball came straight back to him. ‘Huh?’
[No, you’re supposed to take it slowly… Now what?]
An idea struck. Sunmoon spun and threw the ball at Alba’s back, then collected the rebound as Alba chased after it.
“Cheap trick.”
When Sunmoon held possession again, Alba fouled him in frustration.
Beep! The linesman raised his flag. The referee awarded a free kick in a good position.
Time continued to slip away. Every time Sunmoon received the ball, he sprinted forward and held it up, steadily draining the remaining minutes and stoppage time.
Beep~! Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!
“Waaaaaaaah!” “Vamos!!!”
The final whistle blew. Espanyol fans erupted. Players rushed together, embracing one another.
“We did it! We actually did it!”
Even the youth players promoted from the B team joined in, celebrating with Sunmoon. Cameras briefly captured the joy before cutting to Messi, who stood with a determined expression.
* * *
The trophy ceremony was quickly arranged. A platform had been set up in the center of Sevilla’s pitch. Espanyol players walked out to thunderous applause, led by manager Abelardo, and climbed onto the stage one by one.
Thump-thump-thump!
‘Hoo… hoo… Finally!’
Sunmoon wasn’t the only one whose heart raced. Players who had spent years at Espanyol believing a trophy was impossible sang at the top of their lungs in the locker room. Now, standing on the stage, the reality sank in and tears welled in their eyes.
But there was no time to cry yet. Captain Raúl de Tomás lifted the Copa del Rey trophy.
“Uno~ Dos~ Tres!”
“Waaaaaaaah!”
At the count of three, Tomás raised the cup high. Espanyol players jumped and cheered around him.
“Ha Sunmoon?”
“Yes?”
“They’d like you for an interview. Shall we head over?”
“Oh! Of course!”
As Copa del Rey MVP, Sunmoon was led to a separate interview area where Jiménez and Valdés were waiting.
“Congratulations on the win, Ha. You put on a remarkable performance today.”
“Thank you.”
“What was the key to today’s victory?”
“Well… I’ve been struggling with balance after my recent growth spurt, but training hard to regain it made a big difference.”
“Where did that speed come from?”
“It’s one of the results of training. I tried to keep my movements simple while working on balance, and the speed just came with it.”
“Aha! That makes sense. Thank you for the great answer.”
When Valdés finished, Jiménez grinned mischievously.
“Before the serious questions, may I ask something light?”
“Of course.”
“Between Messi and Ronaldo, who do you think is the better player?”
Without hesitation, Sunmoon answered.
“Ronaldo.”
Jímenez’s face split into a wide grin. Valdés closed his eyes tightly.