Chapter 22
***
Yannick Poit’s shot ripped through the net, and silence fell over MSV Neuruppin’s home ground, the Volksparkstadion.
Union Berlin also fell silent for a moment at the unexpected early goal.
…J, Jaaaaaaaaaa!
Yannick Poit!
But soon, Union Berlin’s fans came to their senses and began cheering.
Yannick Poit, who had scored the opener, sprinted toward the away fans and roared, instantly heating up the stadium.
‘W-what is going on?’
Despite the atmosphere heating up, Wolfgang Sidka, who had been sitting relaxed on MSV Neuruppin’s bench, couldn’t hide his shock.
He was so rattled that Park Chan-hyuk’s card taunt barely even registered.
Because Union Berlin’s counterattack, launched the moment they won the ball back, was so polished and lethal it was hard to believe a rookie manager had designed it.
‘…Is there a monster beside that monster?’
Wolfgang’s gaze unconsciously drifted to Union Berlin’s bench after being hit with that unexpected counterattack.
He was curious what kind of expression Park Chan-hyuk was making.
‘…Maybe he’s looking down on us.’
But contrary to his expectations, Park Chan-hyuk was looking out over the pitch with a solemn expression.
‘Still, at least he has the basic manners.’
Just as MSV Neuruppin’s manager was about to let out a sigh of relief.
“You just activated my trap card”
After their eyes met, Park Chan-hyuk pulled a card from inside his jacket and taunted him with a nasty grin.
‘You… my trap?’
The surrounding noise was so loud he couldn’t quite make out what Park Chan-hyuk was saying, but it was enough to know it was a taunt aimed at him.
Wolfgang’s face reddened with anger, and the MSV Neuruppin fans who saw Park Chan-hyuk’s provocation booed loudly.
‘That, that, that rude bastard!’
If the referee hadn’t produced a card, Wolfgang would have been so angry he might have forgotten his dignity and come to blows with a kid forty years younger than him.
“Why am I being booked for this?”
“…Put a hand over your heart and think about it.”
For a moment, that shameless expression of grievance nearly made him lose his reason in anger all over again.
Barely suppressing his rage, Wolfgang saw Park Chan-hyuk, lost in thought, juggling the card in his hand.
‘…No matter how I look at it, he’s a lunatic.’
***
Around the time Wolfgang Sidka was beginning to fear the unknown entity named Park Chan-hyuk.
Kim Seonmyeong, who had gone from Union Berlin fan to volunteer to intern, was filming the match between Union Berlin and MSV Neuruppin with a camera.
The footage would be used for post-match feedback and, at the same time, edited into a highlight video for Korean Union Berlin fans before being uploaded to the website.
‘Why am I filming this?’
Kim Seonmyeong couldn’t understand why he was the one shooting video, but unfortunately he couldn’t voice any complaint.
Because it had been ordered by his direct superior, Park Chan-hyuk, a talent optimized for crappy companies.
For the record, Park Chan-hyuk hadn’t given the order for any special reason.
‘Seonmyeong, you said your major was computer engineering, right?’
‘Yes? Yes. That’s right.’
‘Then you must know how to handle a camera, right?’
‘Uh, I’m not really sure.’
‘If you studied computer engineering, you know electronics well, don’t you?’
‘….’
Because there was a stereotype that computer engineering students were electronics nerds.
‘Then make sure you film the next match well.’
While Kim Seonmyeong was momentarily at a loss for words and couldn’t answer, Park Chan-hyuk casually dumped the task on him.
And later, when Kim Seonmyeong brought it up, all he got back was, ‘Ahem, it’s not that there are crappy companies in Germany. Any place Koreans work becomes a crappy company.’
Anyway, after receiving a new task from Park Chan-hyuk, Kim Seonmyeong had to keep himself busy.
To shoot the video, he first had to coordinate with MSV Neuruppin in advance.
Filming the match for simple post-match feedback wasn’t much of a problem, but
uploading a highlight video to the website could cause trouble with the opposing club.
The filming had nearly fallen through because of Park Chan-hyuk’s sudden provocation, though.
Thanks to MSV Neuruppin’s cooperation, the filming went ahead without a hitch.
And finally, today.
Perhaps because of all that effort, Kim Seonmyeong’s artistic spirit as a cameraman blazed brightly.
He captured Park Chan-hyuk provoking the opponent in crisp detail.
‘I should edit this and post it to the community.’
At the time, Kim Seonmyeong had no idea the meme he made would be circulating for over ten years.
***
There was the minor issue of getting carded for provoking the opponent, but I didn’t care much.
Unlike players who had to take the field, coaches didn’t need to worry about card laundering.
A football manager could also be punished if cards piled up, but it was far less common than for players who had to get physical.
A calm, rational manager would never get disciplined if he handled things properly.
‘Just like me.’
A memory from my previous life, when I used to shout 'Bring it on' at the absurd calls of Korean league referees, flashed through my mind.
That was something from my immature younger days. Having lived more than sixty years across my previous life and this one, I had recently come to understand what unshakable composure was.
“Fuck! Pass the ball right!”
Anyway.
Though it was only a short week,
it was enough to give Union Berlin my own color.
Union Berlin’s tactics were the result of a subtle blend of Tuchel’s tactical philosophy and my own.
Thomas Tuchel preferred aggressive tactics built on strong high pressing.
My football philosophy was simple: win, whether by fouling or by beating the other side senseless.
When I managed in Korea in my previous life, I chose all-out attack over sitting back because it gave the highest chance of winning.
It was also a reflection of the Korean league’s tendency to value goals scored over goal difference.
For that reason, the tactic I used this time was simply Leicester City’s counterattacking system from the 2015–16 season, adapted to Union Berlin’s situation.
Of course, with the lack of preparation time, we’d have been in trouble if the opposing team had sat back defensively.
But because they underestimated me and came out attacking, we were able to control the match with ease.
‘It’s a problem if the opponent sits back defensively? Then just make them come at you aggressively, right?’
Well… I did also provoke them into becoming aggressive.
Anyway, unlike how nervous I’d been about managing after such a long time, once we scored first and took the lead, I relaxed.
I’d dismissed him as a washed-up has-been, but I’d been unconsciously intimidated by the fact that, in his prime, he had guided a second-division club to Bundesliga promotion.
‘We’re winning, so he’s washed-up, right?’
With the pressure gone, I actively gave instructions to the players from the touchline.
“Damn it! Why didn’t you score that?”
And a little later, I groaned when Yannick Poit missed a one-on-one with the goalkeeper.
“You couldn’t score either, Coach!”
“You’re a player, and I’m the chief coach, asshole!”
Yannick Poit immediately pushed back, but I silenced him in an instant with unbeatable logic.
And a little later.
Yannick Poit got just enough on the cross from the wing with his forehead to steer it in for the goal.
I watched the opposition begin to lose heart and smiled.
‘Now then, maybe it’s time to get a little more aggressive.’
***
Union Berlin’s veteran striker, Daniel Teixeira.
He was nicknamed Texas by Union Berlin’s fans.
Daniel Teixeira, who first joined Union Berlin on loan in 2001, led the club to its first-ever Pokal title.
Though fate never brought him a permanent move to Union Berlin.
[Texas Returns, ‘It’s Time to Repay the Love I Received from the Fans.’]
He had fond memories of Union Berlin from his loan spell, so when the club fell into crisis, he returned to save the team.
Because Daniel Teixeira loved the team that much, he resisted the appointment of a thirty-something manager and an 18-year-old chief coach.
He thought what they needed right then was an experienced manager with enough charisma to win the team over at once.
But Thomas Tuchel and Park Chan-hyuk proved their abilities through results.
He recognized the two men’s abilities and followed them without complaint.
Once the team’s oldest man, Daniel Teixeira, followed the manager and coach without a word, control naturally fell into place.
‘Daniel, calm down. I’m sure Tuchel didn’t mean it that way.’
‘Phew. Chan-hyuk, you always have it rough.’
Thomas Tuchel’s bizarre way of getting under people’s skin made him bristle more than once, but he had to let it go when he saw the young chief coach desperately calming himself down.
38 years old.
Teixeira had already reached the twilight of his career as a footballer, but through the two geniuses, his understanding of football was deepening.
In fact, until he returned to Union Berlin, he hadn’t had any great ambitions.
He came back because he couldn’t just stand by and watch the team that had warmly welcomed him during his loan spell collapse so pointlessly.
But after grinding under Thomas Tuchel and Park Chan-hyuk, even at his age, ambition had slowly begun to take root.
‘I want to stay with them for as long as possible.’
Thomas Tuchel and Park Chan-hyuk were, without exaggeration, the best manager and chief coach Daniel Teixeira had ever seen.
‘Ah. Except for that bastard Tuchel.’
Daniel Teixeira recalled Park Chan-hyuk desperately trying to keep himself from getting angry at Thomas Tuchel’s remarks.
He smiled faintly, watched the ball fly toward him, and calmly swung his right foot.
The shot, struck cleanly on the instep, ripped through MSV Neuruppin’s net.
‘Texas! Texas!’
Just like four years ago, Union Berlin’s fans were cheering his name.
“Texas! Texas!”
“Vamos lá─!”
And Daniel Teixeira ran toward the crowd chanting his name and let out a roar.