Chapter 77
***
Stuttgart fans couldn't hide their confusion at the sight of the opposing team's manager rushing over and applauding.
“…Who is that?”
Well, because an unfamiliar Asian man had run over to the corner flag, raised both hands, and seemed to be showing respect to his old club.
Unlike Korea, where people watched every match featuring a Korean player or every game involving major overseas clubs, in Europe it was common to only follow the matches of the team you supported.
Naturally, it was rare to know who a lower-division manager was.
“The opposing team's manager.”
But that didn't mean there weren't hardcore football fans.
A Stuttgart fan who even followed the second division answered.
“He looks really young, doesn't he?”
“Wasn't he twenty?”
“What? Twenty? He's a manager at twenty?”
“He used to be famous, right? For being the youngest head coach in the fourth division.”
“Ah, that team's already made it up to the second division?”
“Not just the second division, it looks like they'll be in the first division next season too.”
“But why is he doing that? Isn't that a celebration meant to show respect to his old club?”
“No clue.”
***
I was a little hurt that the Stuttgart fans hadn't recognized me.
But if I thought about it for a moment, it was only natural.
After all, there couldn't have been more than a tiny handful of fans who remembered a youth player who had never even played in the first division.
To them, I'd have been just one face among hundreds.
Even if my unusual skin color caught their eye, chances were high they'd forget me before long.
'In the first place, my position itself wasn't even the kind that could grab fans' attention.'
The position I played was defensive midfielder, and the thing about that role is that if you play badly, it sticks out like a sore thumb, but if you play well, it doesn't stand out much.
Later on, it was part of why Rodri of Man City winning the Ballon d'Or as the first defensive midfielder ever was such a huge deal.
'Well... that was probably also because the Messi-Ronaldo duopoly had monopolized everything for nearly 13 years.'
Anyway, after Yannick Poit's goal, the match became extremely intense.
Stuttgart pressed Union Berlin as hard as they could in search of an equalizer.
We made Stuttgart's hearts sink with our counterattacks.
Union Berlin's defenders threw their bodies on the line against Stuttgart's shots.
But even though the players poured out all their fighting spirit, the basic physical gap couldn't be overcome.
The gap in possession and all sorts of other stats gradually began to widen.
Sami Khedira cut the ball out and, at the same time, played it forward to Andreas Beck, who was attempting an overlap.
Before long, Stuttgart's counterattack was moving quickly, and Andreas Beck managed to get close to Union Berlin's penalty box, but he was cut off by Ivan Pertovic, who was playing at fullback, and the ball was sent to Mario Gomez, who was calling for it.
Mario Gomez's shot struck Thomas Mayer's body, deflected out over the goal line, and Stuttgart were awarded a corner kick.
And then came the ensuing corner.
A Stuttgart midfielder swung it into the penalty area.
The ball the midfielder sent in struck Mario Gomez's forehead perfectly.
Mario Gomez's header, taken with no interference from the defenders, flew straight toward Union Berlin's goal.
─!!
The moment both Stuttgart fans and players could feel a goal coming.
Thwack!
Manuel Schmidt barely managed to head it away.
“Ah….”
Amid the Stuttgart fans' sighs, Manuel Schmidt's roar rang out.
“Jaaa!!!”
“Nice, Manuel!”
“Sorry! I lost my mark.”
Union Berlin's defenders went over to Manuel Schmidt and showered him with praise.
“I'll take care of everything! Don't worry!”
I clapped and straightened out the players' line.
“The other team's attack isn't over yet, so stay focused!”
There was still a long way to go before the match was over.
“And Manuel! Good job!”
Still, I didn't forget to praise Manuel Schmidt, who had pulled off a superb save.
There was nothing wrong with being generous with praise.
***
The first half ended with Union Berlin leading 1-0.
“You all did well! We've still got 45 minutes left! Forty-five minutes is all we need to advance to the next round! Come on, let's do this, right?!”
Thanks to the defenders' sacrifice and Manuel Schmidt's performance, we managed to keep a clean sheet.
I spent halftime praising the players for their hard work.
“Berlin! Berlin! Wir fahren nach Berlin! (Berlin! Berlin! We’re going to Berlin!)”
And then came the second half.
Because Stuttgart's attacks kept coming nonstop, I could see the defenders' morale and concentration starting to slip.
And before long, with 15 minutes left in the second half.
I was preparing to bring in a defender with my final substitution card.
'Please, just hold on a little longer.'
At this point, all a manager could do was cheer them on.
“Aizen, once you get on the pitch… Scheiße!!”
But before the substitute could even come on, we conceded a little earlier.
***
In the 32nd minute of the second half.
Stuttgart's equalizer went in.
“Ah….”
The commentator let out an involuntary sigh.
While covering Union Berlin so intently, before he knew it he had become a Union Berlin fan himself.
And at that moment.
“Gooooooooal─!”
Realizing it was a broadcast mistake, the announcer reacted quickly.
He reacted even more enthusiastically than usual.
'Thank you….'
'No problem. We help each other out.'
The commentator, realizing his mistake, silently thanked the announcer with his eyes.
Football fans, too, had noticed the little slip-up, but they didn't make a fuss over it.
- Damn, that one got in.
- If only they'd held on a little longer! Damn!
- But you could tell the defenders were losing focus.
Most football fans felt the same way as the broadcast team.
- Still, this was a good fight against last season's champions.
- Well... it's still the round of 16, so focusing on the league isn't necessarily a bad thing either.
- Right, if we get greedy for the Pokal and then fail to win the league, that'd be pretty rough.
As fans began giving up on the match one by one.
Park Chan-hyeok, instead of the defender he had been preparing, sent midfielder Lee Seong-jae onto the pitch.
“Ah! Manager Park Chan-hyeok is bringing on Lee Seong-jae! Lee Seong-jae is coming on!”
“Manager Park Chan-hyeok is going for broke!”
“That's right. This is Union Berlin's last substitution card, after all. This is practically a gamble to settle the match in regular time!”
Park Chan-hyeok still hadn't given up on the match.
***
I hesitated for a split second.
I was torn over whether to send in Luka Schneider or Lee Seong-jae.
Unfortunately, the moment we conceded the equalizer, I had no intention of taking it to extra time.
The depth gap between our substitutes and Stuttgart's was obvious.
And if it went to extra time, the standard expectation was that our team would lose.
'Let's send in Lee Seong-jae.'
That wasn't a decision I made because I was Korean.
Luka Schneider's role was already being handled well enough by Markus Matchke.
What Union Berlin needed right now was a player who could make up for the lack of work rate.
And the player who could do that best for Union Berlin right now was Lee Seong-jae.
Right now, thanks to my training, Lee Seong-jae had a play style similar to the one he had in his previous life.
He was a bit more technical than in his previous life, but that wasn't a bad thing.
“Can you do it? If you're not confident, say so now.”
“….”
Anyway, I slapped Lee Seong-jae on both cheeks hard.
After all, being thrown into the match in a crisis like this would make it hard to keep your head straight.
“Pull yourself together!”
Smack!
Still, Union Berlin had no choice but to roll the dice by sending on a promising youngster.
“C-Coach... my cheeks really hurt.”
“It hurts because that's youth.”
Well... I guess I hit him a little too hard because I messed up the force.
As long as he's snapped out of it, that's enough.
I took my hand away from his face, then grabbed Lee Seong-jae by the shoulder and said,
“Give your heart to our fans cheering in the away stand! Don't stop running until they stop cheering!”
Normally, those would just be corny words.
But when you combine the fans' fervent support with that overwhelming sight, even the same words can hit differently.
Lee Seong-jae's ashen face changed in an instant.
“And give this note to Lewy.”
After confirming the change in Lee Seong-jae's eyes, I sent him on as an attacking midfielder and pushed Robert Lewandowski, who had been playing in attacking midfield, up to striker.
Yannick Poit and Robert Lewandowski.
I believed those two could carry Union Berlin into the next round.
'Do it!!'
I prayed intensely in my heart.