Chapter 17
—
Honestly, I wasn’t particularly concerned about being selected for the national team.
It wasn’t that I didn’t care because I had achieved everything in my past life.
Nor was it an arrogant assumption that I would inevitably be selected.
I simply thought I wouldn’t be chosen, no matter how well I played right now, and that it wasn’t something important at the moment.
That was all there was to it.
‘There are only two things I need to achieve: winning the Ballon d’Or as a defensive midfielder and leading England to victory in the 2038 World Cup in England and Ireland.’
It’s currently 2029. Of course, these qualifiers and other things must be in preparation for the 2030 World Cup.
Even with a little thought, it was obvious which World Cup mattered more to me—the one in 2030 or 2038.
‘Besides, wouldn’t it be strange for me to be selected for the World Cup roster? I’m still a rookie.’
How many matches have I played since I started?
Three.
Only three.
I’ve played two matches in K League 1’s second round and one match in the AFC Champions League Round of 16 against Suwon.
If I were a player who had been performing well in previous seasons, the early-season form might lead to, ‘Oh, this guy is in insane form right now. He’s peaking.’
But for someone like me, who debuted and immediately showed meteoric success, history has shown countless times that such players tend to crash just as quickly.
‘That’s why I was planning to let this World Cup slide and start preparing for the 2034 Saudi Arabia World Cup.’
But… is this how things are supposed to go?
“Whoa!!! Ian!!! They’re saying you’ve been selected for the national team! Coach Martin Valdé said you were the most impressive player!”
While I stared dumbfounded at my smartphone, Ah-yoon grabbed my shoulders, shaking me vigorously in excitement.
Her reaction was unsurprising, considering that her boyfriend had just been formally selected for the senior national team—not a youth team, but the adult team.
Of course, I was just as surprised.
The difference was that my reasons were slightly different from hers.
「Reporter: This is quite an unusual roster selection. You’ve chosen many rookie players instead of veterans, and the inclusion of Jeonbuk’s defensive midfielder Baek Ian and striker Yoon Seung-hwan seems likely to generate significant buzz. What are your thoughts on this?」
「Martin Valdé, National Team Coach: Honestly, I don’t understand the concerns. Look at what they’ve accomplished in just three matches. Yoon Seung-hwan has scored six goals across the AFC and the league combined, while Baek Ian has contributed one goal and four assists. Not selecting players like this would be professional negligence as a coach, wouldn’t it? I personally chose them. If you’re not happy with it, fire me and hire a new coach. But don’t criticize the players—criticize me. I’ll prove my decision with results.」
‘Martin Valdé… Isn’t this guy notoriously reluctant to use rookie players? Why is he so fixated on me all of a sudden?’
I genuinely couldn’t understand.
From what I knew, even during his time at Newcastle, he insisted on excluding talented rookies, leading to their transfers to rival teams and causing his approval ratings among fans to plummet.
Could there be some other reason I don’t know about?
‘No, I can’t know until I meet him in person. Considering how much he cares about his players, it’s possible he’s acting this way publicly to shield Yoon Seung-hwan and me from criticism.’
Until I meet him directly and have the chance to step onto the pitch, I shouldn’t trust everything he says.
Wasn’t this one of the valuable lessons I learned during my past life as a footballer?
You never know until you face the coach in person.
Time passed, and the day of the national team assembly finally arrived.
When I saw Martin Valdé waiting for us with open arms, I was stunned yet again.
“I’ve been waiting for a *volante like you for a long time.”
* defensive midfielder in Brazilian language but midfielder elsewhere in Latin America
‘What’s with that gaze? Why does he look so intense? Damn.’
“Hey, Ian. Don’t you think there’s something a little weird about this guy?”
***
Time quickly flew by, and the day of the national team assembly had arrived.
Normally, rookies like Yoon Seung-hwan and me would show up early, well before the scheduled time, to greet the senior players politely.
But unfortunately, we left two hours after the assembly time.
“Seriously, is it right to make us attend morning classes even on the day of the national team assembly? This isn’t just some league game—it’s the national team!”
“What can we do? We just have to endure it. At least we don’t have to run errands for the senior players because we’re late.”
Protecting students’ right to education and all that—it’s only gotten stricter now that it’s 2029.
It’s to the point where they tell us to attend class until lunchtime before heading out for national team duties.
If this were the old days, I’d have stormed into the teacher’s office with a field trip application slapped on my forehead, like Prince Suyang marching into battle during the Gyeyujeong Rebellion.
But for now, I had no choice but to comply.
“Hah, you’re right, but still. I don’t know about this.”
Yoon Seung-hwan, shaking his head repeatedly, threw himself onto the bed as if he didn’t want to think about it anymore.
From what I knew, the national team training facilities usually had two players per room, and rookies were typically paired with the most senior players.
But perhaps because we were still high school students, they arranged it so we wouldn’t feel burdened and could relax.
Maybe that’s why Yoon Seung-hwan seemed so comfortable bringing up potentially awkward topics.
“By the way, aren’t you nervous at all? If it were me, I’d be super tense every time I faced the senior players.”
“Nervous? Why would I be? They’re just professional players like me. I might be nervous if I got in thanks to favouritism despite lacking skill, but that’s not the case.”
“That’s not what I mean. You’ve already done so much in the league, and with that interview after the Ulsan match, I thought you might feel awkward around the seniors.”
Not really?
If you think about it, a young rookie behaving strangely by giving a mocking interview in an official setting might make the senior players feel uncomfortable.
But I wasn’t worried about it at all.
With more young players challenging themselves in Europe these days, most positions except for goalkeeper are filled with overseas players anyway.
Unless they’re deeply familiar with domestic news or care a lot, they probably wouldn’t even know what kind of interview I gave.
And even if they did know, what could they say when prominent seniors like Ki Sung-yong and Koo Ja-cheol openly supported me?
Even just looking at what happened earlier:
-“Ah, you must be Ian and Seung-hwan! I heard you’re doing really well in the K League, so I wanted to meet you at least once. I didn’t expect to see you here, though. Nice to meet you.”
-“I wanted to meet you too! Park Namu-sunbae! I’ve been a fan since last season when you scored a brace against Celtic in the Scottish Cup!”
-“Hahaha. It must be hard to watch Scottish League matches in Korea, but thanks for watching. If there’s anything awkward or uncomfortable, let me know. I haven’t been with the national team for long myself, but I’ll help however I can.”
Even Park Namu, a former youth player from Ulsan MR who transferred to Rangers a couple of seasons ago and has been performing well, didn’t harbour any ill feelings toward me.
In other words, at least here, there was no one with ill will against me.
“Ah, there’s nothing to do anyway. I might as well lie down too.”
Watching Yoon Seung-hwan comfortably throw himself onto the bed beside me, I started to feel stiff too.
I kicked off the blanket and lay down with my legs hanging off the edge.
Then, Yoon Seung-hwan, who had been quiet until now, suddenly spoke up.
“Oh, right. I’m curious about something. Can I ask you?”
“What are you curious about?”
“When Namu-hyung asked if you had any questions, you asked if you could touch his head and started fiddling with it. Why’d you do that?”
“His head? Oh, that?”
I didn’t realize he’d bring that up.
Well, if I were Yoon Seung-hwan, I wouldn’t understand it either.
When a senior player from the national team tells you to ask any questions you have, and you respond with, ‘Can I touch your head?’ anyone would think, ‘What’s wrong with this guy?’
‘But it couldn’t be helped. Park Namu didn’t exist in my previous life.’
When I lived as Kang Yoon-ho, it was a routine for me to check the new strikers or wingers whenever I joined the national team.
But someone like Yoon Seung-hwan, who doesn’t know anything about this, would probably think I was being weird.
‘If I said it was to check his head shape to see if the ball would deflect too much upon impact, he’d definitely think I’m crazy, right?’
Yeah. Saying that would definitely get me labeled as insane.
It was better to come up with a reasonable excuse to brush it off for now.
“I remembered when Namu-sunbae scored a header while playing for Rangers, so I wanted to draw some of his energy.”
“Drawing energy? You should use that energy to actually score headers. Stop aiming for my face all the time, you bastard. You’re 191 cm tall giant—why do you always make me do it instead of handling it yourself?”
Muttering his complaints, Yoon Seung-hwan grumbled as he buried himself under the blanket.
Ignoring him, I stared at the ceiling and thought about the feel of Park Namu’s head in my hand.
‘Namu… His name fits perfectly. His head is solid, and the curvature is ideal. Much better than those players I hated back in my previous life.’
I didn’t have enough time to analyze it completely, but based on what I knew, Namu-hyung wasn’t particularly known for headers.
In the novel, there was even a scene where he later asked World-Class Yoon Seung-hwan to teach him how to head the ball properly.
‘Yeah, that’s it. Namu-hyung must’ve secretly wanted to improve his heading skills, even if he didn’t show it.’
How pitiful.
Perfecting his dribbling skills to the extreme was probably his way of compensating for his weakness in headers.
As his junior, I couldn’t just sit by now that I’d realized his pain.
From what the coach said earlier, we have a tactical training session tomorrow.
If I use that time wisely, I should be able to help him a little.
Nodding to myself, I steeled my resolve and shouted internally.
‘Who am I?’
The very person who turned a striker who’d blast shots into the stands under pressure into a World Cup Silver Boot winner.
Surely, I could become a miraculous tutor for Namu-hyung, who’s struggling with his headers.
‘I’m looking forward to tomorrow.’
Imagining Namu-hyung scoring a long-desired header and collapsing onto the field in tears, I closed my eyes.
—
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