Suffocating Defense
Suffocating Defense
[VVC Sport: "Just Feel It" - Korean star Kim Han-su, reveals the national team's mysterious tactics]
[Le Quipu: Names only on the tactics board? Coach Park's 'Mental Strength' philosophy that destroys modern football common sense]
Title: Hey lol, translating overseas reactions in real-time lol
Author: VillyMod
[NetForum - Overseas Football Board]
ㄴ This is 2026 tactics? Even 1950s Hungarian football would have been more detailed than this, right?
ㄴ There was a reason he's a genius. Scoring goals even in the middle of such no-tactics lol
ㄴ Isn't Coach Park a motivational speaker, not a football coach?
[Marcia - Spain]
"The giant of Villarreal learned 'the feeling' in Korea."
"Can they fill the void left by Antonio Castillo (Barca legend) with 'mental strength'?"
ㄴ oo: Wow... Han-su-ya lol. You really raised the national prestige, didn't you? lol
ㄴ FootballFan: Didn't raise national prestige, just put the KFA's naked face on display for the whole world lol
ㄴ VillyMod: The association's official website is 'paralyzed' right now lol. 500 protest posts being uploaded every minute lol
"This... how on earth did this happen!"
A high-ranking official of the association shouted while throwing his tablet.
On the screen, a meme of Coach Park being carried away from the mixed zone while clutching the back of his neck was playing on a loop.
"Han-su-gun... that... I don't think he meant any malice......"
The PR team leader made excuses while tearing up, but the situation was already irreversible.
'Mental strength' and 'the feeling' became a Meme and a hot topic even overseas, and Coach Park earned the nickname 'Modern-day Shaman' overnight.
I lay long on the hotel bed and turned on my smartphone.
The phone rang loudly.
Kim Seung-min (Captain): Han-su-ya... you really... don't get off the plane...
Lee Ji-hoon: Hyung lol. My Starstagram followers have increased like crazy lol. Foreigners are asking me, "Do you pass with a feeling too?" lol
Park Young-gwang: This bastard Han-su... he's truly the craziest of the crazy lol. I envy that steel mentality lol
The Korean sports news section had a column titled 'Korean Football, Tactical Regression? The Topic Raised by Kim Han-su's Exposé'.
"....."
In the van heading to Incheon Airport.
We were clearly on our way back after a comeback win against Jordan, but the air inside the car was as heavy as a funeral home.
The KFA PR team staff member sitting next to me was looking at their incessantly ringing phone with an expression on the verge of tears.
"Han-su-ya... that interview earlier, did you really have to say it like that? The coach can't even come out of the press conference room because he's being bombarded with questions."
"......."
What was I supposed to say there?
'Social life is hard, as expected. They get angry even when I tell the facts.'
Still, once I get on the plane, I'll leave this noisy world of 'mental strength' and 'the feeling' and return to the Mediterranean.
Just that thought made it feel like my burnt-out brain cells were coming back a little.
The dry Mediterranean wind hit me as soon as the plane door opened.
It was different from the humid and heavy sense of expectation in Korea.
Here, they don't tell me to save the country.
I don't need to do awkward and difficult interviews either.
They just shout at me to score goals.
'My heart feels at ease.'
Anyway.
The next opponent was quite a tricky one.
Atletico Madrid. A.K.A. ATM.
The tactics of Coach Diego Sanchez, who has been at the helm for over a decade, were simple.
4-4-2.
But when those numbers are implemented on the pitch, it becomes a prison, not a tactic.
Sanchez was a man who would grind his players' souls into defense just to protect 1 point.
This guy even targeted me in an interview.
"Villarreal's Kim Han-su? Of course, he's a great talent."
"There is a strange silence in his play. He stops at a timing the opponent doesn't predict, and moves again. But football is ultimately a sport of space. No matter how excellent a designer he is, if we don't allow him even 1 inch of space to stand, the blueprint becomes useless."
"Our goal today is not just points. It is to prove how helpless that young talent, whom La Liga is paying attention to, can become between the gaps of our defense. Kim Han-su will experience having his surroundings blocked by walls every moment he touches the ball today."
This crazy guy is still the same.
He was openly declaring that he would play a two-line defense.
My head already hurts.
Sanchez interview d-d. He openly targeted Han-su.
"I will block all variables Han-su will create in advance"
The words are elegant, but it's effectively a declaration that "I'll keep Han-su under 5 ball touches today" lol
ㄴ Wow... the class of the comment. But the content is terror itself.
ㄴ VillyMod: Block? lol. I'll bet my mod position that Sanchez will be clutching the back of his neck today.
ㄴ You bet last time too, didn't you? lol. But the ATM match today really won't be easy.
ㄴ Han-su is drained after the national team, and suffocating defense? This is really eva (overkill)...
ㄴ Actually, it's good? If he scores a goal when they're so confident, it'll be fun to see their expressions lol
And on the day of the match.
15th minute of the first half.
I had already rolled on the ground three times.
ATM's center-back Jose Gimenez didn't come out to play football.
I wonder if he's a forensic investigator who came to measure the strength of my shinbone.
Every time the referee turned his head, he poked my side with his elbow, and the collar of my uniform was already stretched out.
It wasn't a technical tackle, but a physical pressure close to a mud fight.
"Referee!"
On top of that, the referee must be blind, pretending not to see even when they commit fouls.
"Click."
I couldn't take it anymore and turned on my ability.
I found a path in the stopped world.
In a normal team, cracks are bound to appear in one or two places.
The space behind created by a fullback advancing, or the gap left by a midfielder coming out to press.
But ATM, trained by Sanchez, was different.
Even in stopped time, they were perfect.
The four defenders and four midfielders were as dense as if they were connected by invisible iron chains.
If I moved 0.5 meters to the left, they all moved organically by 0.5 meters.
Even if I tried to draw a blueprint, no lines could be drawn.
There is no empty space.
I felt the gaze of Sanchez, who was resting his chin on his hand and staring at the pitch expressionlessly near the sideline, piercing my back.
As soon as I returned to reality, Gimenez's rough breathing hit my ears.
'Creepy bastard.'
The physical fight started again.
I didn't even get to see the ball.
Yilmaz was struggling while holding the ball in midfield, but the passes delivered to me were torn apart every time they got caught in their 'two-line defense' net.
It felt like I was suffocating.
The 'do it for me' tactic in the Korean national team was better.
At least there, the defenders would be flustered if I moved, but here, they wait with stakes already driven into the path I'm going to move.
Maybe playing football in Korea was the real happy football?
Anyway.
Sanchez's tactics were optimized for killing the opponent's talent.
.
30th minute of the first half. The scoreboard showed 0-0, but it felt like I was losing 0-3.
My legs were heavy as lead, and every time I forced my ability on to find a gap, my vision blurred.
'This isn't football, it's a swamp.'
A swamp that sucks you in deeper the more you try to lift your feet.
Sweat stung my eyes, but I didn't even have the luxury to wipe it.
Gimenez pressed my shoulder again and took his position.
The 'Click' sound felt unusually heavy today.
32nd minute of the second half.
The ball was still far away.
Villarreal's build-up was cut off repeatedly by the two-line defense designed by Sanchez.
Yilmaz cleared the ball irritably, but even that was gently cradled in the chest of the ATM midfield.
The trouble started at that moment.
ATM's ace, Argentina's Julian Garcia, moved.
Garcia, who caught the ball in midfield, accelerated.
Mamadou stretched his leg out in a hurry, but Garcia lifted the ball without even looking and easily bypassed him.
Outside the box, about 25 meters out.
The ball that left his foot flew in a straight line, passed the goalkeeper Reina's hand, and stuck in the corner of the goal.
Puck!
The net rippled.
A roar that seemed to tear the Civitas Metropolitano (Atletico's home stadium) apart erupted.
Coach Sanchez stood up from the bench and nodded expressionlessly.
It was a gesture that the calculation was finished.
I felt devastated.
I put my hands on my knees and looked at the floor.
My vision was dizzy.
Sanchez's words that he would 'erase me' were not a bluff.
I was currently buried in this huge swamp.
85th minute of the second half. The game was still a swamp.
After Garcia's opening goal, Sanchez locked the door completely.
The 4-4-2 formation became narrower, and Gimenez stuck even closer.
In the meantime, the incident started from a trivial crack.
The ball I forced up from the flank flowed to Lozano inside the box.
The moment he captured the landing point and turned his body, Paulista, Gimenez's partner, stretched his leg out unreasonably. It was a blatant tackle aimed at Lozano's pivot foot, not the ball.
"Argh!"
He collapsed with a scream.
The referee's whistle blew sharply.
A second card was given to Paulista, who already had a warning.
Sending off. It was the moment a hole was punched in Sanchez's perfect prison.
The free kick was wasted, but Villarreal's wave of attacks began with the numerical advantage. However, ATM was tenacious even with 10 men.
88th minute of the second half.
Yilmaz shook the defense in the half-space and lifted the ball.
The ball flowed ambiguously behind me, over the heads of the defenders. It was an angle I couldn't catch as I was facing the front.
"Click."
The world stopped.
In the silence, I stared at the ball floating in the air.
The ball was rotating slowly about 2 meters behind my back.
The defensive wall designed by Sanchez was tangled with each other for a fleeting moment because of Paulista's absence.
There was only one way.
"Click."
I released the stopped time, turned my back, and threw my body into the air.
My head pointed toward the ground, and my two legs drew a trajectory crossing like scissors.
I finely adjusted the angle of my body, which was stuffed in the air while ignoring gravity.
The optimal point where the instep could hit the exact center of the ball.
I laid my body down in the air. In the vision passing behind my back, I saw Gimenez's bewildered eyes.
Puck!
A dull friction sound cut through the quiet stadium.
The ball that left my instep went over the defensive wall, grazed the fingertips of the diving goalkeeper, and stuck in the upper corner of the goal.
Clang-!