Chapter 18
—
Having resolved to help Namu-hyung achieve his dream, I drifted off to sleep, and before I knew it, the next day arrived.
Perhaps because I went to bed early, I woke up an hour before the scheduled time.
Taking advantage of the situation, I woke Yoon Seung-hwan and left the room together.
“Haaa… hey, didn’t you say yesterday you weren’t going to care about what the seniors think? So why are we up so early?”
“This and that are different. No matter what, as juniors, we should at least show some sincerity by coming out a bit early.”
Of course, there’s no official rule in the national team saying juniors must wake up early to wait for the seniors.
But the unspoken rules unique to sports teams tend to exist everywhere.
Though it could be my misunderstanding.
Some seniors, if they have a decent sense of propriety, might not be able to stand watching juniors suffer unnecessarily.
However, in my experience, most seniors, upon seeing juniors come out early and prepare ahead of time, usually think, “Oh, these kids are more diligent than I thought.”
Rarely do they tell you not to bother next time.
“Still, what are we supposed to do coming out an hour early? There’s nothing to wait for.”
Yoon Seung-hwan grumbled about being woken up early, unaware that I was subtly passing down tips on how to leave a good impression on the seniors.
But the effect of waking up early didn’t seem all that bad.
“Ugh, I’m so tired. Hm? What’s this? The juniors are already here? Didn’t expect anyone to show up earlier than me.”
“Hey, I heard from the team doctor and the cafeteria staff that these guys woke up an hour early to greet people.”
“Really? Wow, Ian and Seung-hwan, you’re something else. That kind of attitude is excellent. But don’t push yourselves to wake up early too often. Ignoring rest just because you’re young can harm your body.”
“Understood. By the way, would you like to sit here? I’ve warmed the seat in case it gets chilly.”
“Haha, forget it, you weirdo. I’d heard the rumours, but you really are something else.”
See?
Even the seniors who initially looked at me strangely couldn’t help but smile brightly at my impeccable service.
These little actions gradually build the foundation for being able to relax and not worry about appearances while in the national team.
As the slightly stiff atmosphere began to ease, most players had gathered in the dressing room for the tactical briefing.
When Coach Martin Valdé entered last, the lights dimmed, and the screen came on.
“Alright, since everyone is here, we’ll begin the briefing on how to prepare for the first match against Iraq in the seventh round of the third qualifiers happening in a few days.”
Fluent Spanish filled the room, followed by the interpreter’s translation.
Having retained some Spanish skills from my previous life, I let the interpretation pass in one ear and out the other, focusing on the screen instead.
“Those who were called up last time should already have a rough idea of my tactics. Not much has changed since then. Our base formation remains 4-2-3-1, with a strong emphasis on pressing.”
A strong pressing game with a 4-2-3-1 formation.
This alone doesn’t fully capture the coach’s tactics.
After all, the 4-2-3-1 has been a staple formation used extensively over the years.
Even strong pressing has been the default approach since Arrigo Sacchi popularized Sacchism.
To define Martin Valdé’s style, at least one differentiating factor is necessary.
And that factor is none other than “fluidity.”
“For me, football is complex and fluid. What I mean is that every player must constantly find and adapt to their required movements.”
‘Since Martin Valdé has been heavily influenced by positional play, this isn’t surprising, I guess.’
The Martin Valdé I remember was a coach who brought significant tactical changes throughout matches.
For example, he might start with a 4-2-3-1 but transition to a 3-2-5-1 with the keeper forming a back three with the centre backs.
Sometimes, he’d use both fullbacks to create offensive shapes like 2-4-1-3 or 2-2-3-3.
The most remarkable part is that these systems didn’t stay static but constantly evolved.
‘That’s why player synergy is critical, and tactical familiarity is essential. But if executed well, it’s an undeniably powerful strategy.’
It’s how he dominated Sporting to clinch an overwhelming title as Benfica’s manager.
Although his stint at Newcastle had some issues with player management, Martin Valdé was preparing for another leap forward.
Perhaps because of this, he began to unveil ways to utterly dismantle the opposition.
“In the third qualifying match on March 21, we will face Iraq. Though overshadowed by Iran, Qatar, and Saudi Arabia, they are undeniably one of the powerhouses. They excel at wide attacks, but their weakness is surprisingly simple.”
The coach manipulated the remote, displaying footage of Iraqi players competing in the qualifiers.
A laser pointer from the remote highlighted Iraq’s number 6, Ibrahim Sulaka.
“They employ a lone volante and a 3-1 buildup—a somewhat risky strategy. Even more so, they push their number 6 up to the middle block’s highest line for smoother wide attacks. Now, can anyone tell me what this means?”
Coach Valdé put down the laser pointer, scanning the room.
As silence filled the room, his gaze moved from the senior players to eventually rest on me and Yoon Seung-hwan.
Sensing the moment, I quickly raised my hand and spoke.
“The 3-1 buildup can become unstable under intense pressing. And because it relies on a lone volante, it’s vulnerable to overload.”
“Exactly. I thought you were just good at football, but you also have some tactical insight? That’s an excellent mindset. It’s a must-have skill for a tempo-controlling volante.”
Thud!
Coach Martin Valdé, who had been pacing with his hands clasped behind his back, suddenly threw the remote at the screen, raising his voice as if he had no more to say.
“What you need to show on the field is simple! The opponent will consistently target the half-space from the sides. At the same time, they’ll push their volante high to gain an advantage in the midfield battle. So what do we do? We box them in with even stronger pressing, not allowing them to break free. And when the opportunity presents itself in the midfield battle, what do we do?”
As soon as he finished speaking, the screen changed. It displayed attack routes formed by countless arrows.
Among them, arrows starting from me caught my eye.
‘I thought I’d be responsible for rear build-up since we’re using a holding and a box-to-box midfielder, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.’
In the offensive tactic screen, arrows began from where I stood near the center circle and extended toward Yoon Seung-hwan and Namu-hyung, our striker.
The strategy likely involved exploiting the intervals created by Iraq’s stretched formation for through passes or advancing aggressively to create forced heading (headers).
“We’ll charge forward immediately. Increase the tempo, giving the opponent no chance to organize their shape, and relentlessly press on. Rest? That’s unnecessary. With sustained attacks, they’ll tire out before we do. Understood?”
“Yes!”
“Good! That’s excellent! If you understand, get out there and start warming up! We’re heading straight into training.”
***
There are various ways to distinguish between a legendary manager and an average one.
For those who casually enjoy football, they might judge based on the manager’s career path.
Those with a bit more curiosity may evaluate the tactics employed or whether the home and away win rates are consistent.
And the deep enthusiasts?
That’s where things get complex. They’ll scrutinize how the wage structure for players is managed, whether transfers align with the manager’s vision, and how the team performs in European competitions while balancing league games.
Still, these perspectives are limited to spectators.
For players, the training sessions reveal whether the manager is legendary or not.
“Wow… our coach really is a legend. The way he systematically works us to the bone—damn impressive. By the way, Baek Ian, aren’t you tired? I saw you running like crazy earlier.”
“Not really.”
As Yoon Seung-hwan panted next to me, I responded absentmindedly. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and shook his head.
“Figures. I’ve known about your athletic talent and stamina since our youth days. What kind of freakish abilities do you even have? Oh, wait—you’re the son of a marathon runner, so it’s no wonder your stamina is incredible.”
“It’s a bit much to say my stamina is great because my dad was a marathoner. Maybe my basic endurance is solid because I ran around the track with him as a kid.”
“Is that so?”
If my dad had overheard, he’d surely tell Mom, “See? Even Ian’s friend agrees he takes after me!”
Honestly, I don’t think my exceptional running ability stems from having a marathoner father and a sprinter mother.
Sure, genetics from athletic parents help.
But I attribute it more to my early experiences—running and staying active as a child.
‘Not to mention how Ah-yoon coached my form every evening.’
Having both parents as former athletes probably meant I grew up with a structured diet and exercise routine without even realizing it.
Coupled with Shin Ah-yoon’s coaching on proper posture every evening, I minimized injuries and fatigue while maximizing my natural talent.
When all these elements aligned, it’s no surprise I ended up with a monstrous physique.
‘Come to think of it, I miss Ah-yoon. Around this time, we’d usually hang out at the park or her house.’
Instead, here I was, unexpectedly called back to the national team to endure the life of a rookie.
Damn that striker-loving author. I can’t stand him.
Grinding my teeth in frustration, I caught Yoon Seung-hwan stealing a glance at me, grinning awkwardly.
“By the way, what do you have to do next? I’m supposed to rest a bit, then practice dribbling drills and breaking through numerical disadvantages.”
“Me? I have things to do too. I’m just waiting for my partner to show up.”
“Waiting? For who?”
Yoon Seung-hwan looked around the field, craning his neck.
It seemed he assumed I was waiting for another midfielder to form a double volante partnership.
Unfortunately, the partner I was about to train with wasn’t a midfielder.
“Phew! Finally, all done. Sorry about that, Ian. I got tangled up and ended up running a bit late.”
“No worries. I don’t mind since waiting gives me a chance to rest. Let’s go right away, Namu hyung.”
“Sure thing. Just make those passes sharp. I’ll make sure to sync up well and help you rack up assists even during matches.”
Looking at Namu hyung hurriedly running toward us from the touchline, I let out a small sigh inwardly.
How pitiful it is for such a kind senior to be relegated to just breaking through and stripped of his headers.
‘For someone with the name Namu (tree) and a height of 189 cm to have such devastating heading ability… this is too much.’
Despite having a body optimized for headers, how horrible must it have been to not actually be able to execute them well?
I couldn’t stand to watch any longer. As a proper junior, I couldn’t ignore this situation and do nothing.
‘But it’s okay now. Because I’m here.’
I’m the very person who made a subpar striker a Silver Boot winner using headers.
So with his body optimized for headers… Namu hyung could soon proudly proclaim that heading was his specialty anywhere he went.
“… I’ll definitely help you with this.”
“Huh? Oh, uh, sure, Ian. But why is your gaze so determined? You don’t need to take it so seriously.”
As I shook his hand, Namu hyung looked a bit hesitant. Watching him, I swallowed my emotions and steeled my resolve.
***
The training routine given to Baek Ian and Park Namu was relatively simple.
While the earlier positional drills involved multiple coaches and players replicating real-game scenarios, this was different.
“So… what the coach wants is for you to make quick, decisive passes, and I’m supposed to finish them into the net, right?”
“Yes. But the passes depend entirely on my tempo analysis, so I won’t give any cues beforehand. Also, be mindful of avoiding offsides near the mannequins by the goalpost.”
When explained like this, it sounded straightforward—just pass and finish with a shot or a header.
But actually executing it in practice was anything but simple.
An unexpected pass could lead to a poor first touch, ultimately wasting the opportunity.
The purpose of this drill was likely to synchronize us under high-pressure, fast-paced situations.
‘I’ll have to give it my best.’
With that mindset, Park Namu tackled the training enthusiastically.
As a senior, he wanted to set a good example for his younger teammates, especially given his own experience as a rookie.
‘During drills, one mistake made you feel like a traitor. I can’t let Ian or Seung-hwan go through the same.’
Though unspoken, Park Namu was well aware of Baek Ian’s performance in the league and the scrutiny he faced from fans and players alike.
「Seo-woo, you’ve played against Ian and Seung-hwan, right? Did you talk to them? How do they seem?」
「Huh? Who? Are you talking about Baek Ian? Namu hyung, those guys are crazy—no, I mean, Seung-hwan’s okay, but Ian? That guy’s insane. He’s dangerous, hyung. You might not make it out alive!」
「Yohan hyung! Long time no see! I wanted to ask about Ian. Do you have any insights on him?」
「Ack! Hey, don’t even mention that guy’s name in front of me! If it’s about him, just forget it! Do you know how much trouble I’ve been through because of his highlight videos trending on YouTube? Are you trying to tease me or what?!」
「Huh? Hyung, what’s going on…」
‘Clearly, his reputation isn’t great.’
Park Namu didn’t know what had tarnished Ian’s image so thoroughly or what controversies had required legendary players to defend him publicly.
But from what he’d seen, Ian didn’t seem like a bad kid.
Maybe something had gone wrong.
Though football had become less toxic than before, traces of hierarchical traditions still lingered. Ian, being young, might have missed certain cues, leading to misunderstandings.
‘The best way to fix his reputation is to leave a positive impression on fans. Seung-hwan can score goals and be a hero, but Ian… as a defensive midfielder…’
He would need to help Ian himself.
With that thought in mind, Namu observed Baek Ian running with the ball near the centre circle.
“Ian! Now!”
“Got it! Sending it over!”
At Ian’s signal, Namu dashed past the mannequins, positioning himself perfectly.
‘Right here!’
A spot where he wouldn’t be caught offsides and could dominate an aerial ball with his height.
Planting himself firmly, Namu prepared for the incoming ball.
‘Huh? Why does the ball seem lower than expected? No, wait… it’s heading for my face? No way… why would he aim straight at my face with that much power?’
As the ball soared closer, doubts began to form.
Was it an accident? Did Ian overkick it in his eagerness?
‘If it were just an overpowered kick, the ball would’ve veered higher… but it’s coming at me perfectly…’
Before he could make sense of it, the ball reached him.
Thwack!
“Ugh!”
The moment the ball struck his face, Namu’s memory blanked out.
Five seconds.
That’s how long it took for Park Namu to regain consciousness after being hit by Ian’s shot.
When he opened his eyes again, the scene before him was disorienting.
“What the… I remember the ball coming at me, but I can’t recall what happened next. Why am I lying down?”
“Namu hyung! That was incredible! Did you see? Your header went straight into the top corner!”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure… It’s all thanks to your great pass, Ian. But why do I feel like my speech is slurred…”
Listening to Ian enthusiastically recounting the goal, Namu rubbed his forehead.
For some reason, his forehead felt like there was a prominent bump.
—
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