There were around thirty of us. I recognized some names. Oh Se-jun, Song Sung-tae, Jeong-suk. Players with actual skills who wouldn't quit on the pitch even after they lost both their arms. I've played against them before. Made them taste mud. Underneath all that, though, I respected them. In the sense that they weren't cowards, they didn't give up. Above all, they were quite talented.
Not the kind of talent you'd see in Europe or South America, but still...
You couldn't ask for more in this kind of situation.
Korea didn't exactly have a deep pool to draw talents from. Only a couple of names had ever gone to Europe and actually managed to make a name for themselves there. And they usually stuck to their comfort zone of the second division at most.
The coach wasn't a complete amateur either. Overall, the national youth squad had a glimmer of hope. A fighting chance.
As we made our way through the winding corridors of the center, some of the players were joking amongst themselves, others looking tense, focused, or nervous. Coach Ahn Ki-seok was making small talk with some other officials and assistants. He had a clipboard in his hand.
"Jae-il! My man!" A heavy hand clapped my shoulder. Park Jong-su grinned at me. Oh right, I almost forgot about this guy. "Glad you could make it!"
A smile touched my lips. "Who let you in here?" I replied, my voice dry and sarcastic. "Shouldn't you be playing in the local football league?"
"I told them I knew you. I guess my charm is just as strong as yours, huh?"
I snorted. "Yeah. Maybe."
He chuckled, slinging his arm over my shoulders. He was tall and lean, and his legs were ridiculously long, making him look gangly despite the corded muscles in his arms. Despite my sarcastic misgivings, Jong-su was a solid, clever defender. We played for the same club. Won the K League Youth Championship with him. We weren't super close friends or anything, but there was a sense of familiarity there. It was... nice.
I guess that was one of the only reasons why I put up with his antics.
"You know, I've heard that they're placing high hopes on this team. Like, really, really high hopes." Jong-su said in a low voice, his arm still around my shoulder. "The pressure is a bit stifling, kek."
I merely raised an eyebrow, curious. "And what gave them the idea?"
Jong-su merely gave me a strange look. "Uh, you, maybe? Not to mention we got that guy as well." He pointed at Kim Jun-hwan, who was walking all by himself. A lone wolf if I've ever seen one. "The guy is a machine. You've seen him, haven't you? If anyone has the power to drag South Korea out of its mediocrity, then it's definitely the both of you."
Quite the burden for two people to bear.
"Sounds to me like you're not giving yourself enough credit." While it was mostly lip service, Jong-su was plenty capable. Not World Class material, but definitely not second division either. Somewhere in between.
More than good enough for South Korea.
"Come on, now. Don't try to stroke my ego." He waved me away, a little shy.
"Fine, I won't then."
"Wait, on second thought, maybe try a bit?" He quickly said. "Just a little, though...?"
I quickened my pace.
"Waaaait~"
…
Once inside the locker room, I dropped my bag on the first available bench and unzipped it, digging out my kit. Beautiful colors. Black and red had always been my favorite combination. The rest of the players were getting dressed or lacing their boots or taking selfies.
"Hey. Cha Jae-il." A voice caught my attention. "Do you remember me?"
I turned.
"Song Sung-tae." He extended a hand. I shook it.
"We've played each other, a few times. I was the one who got nutmegged by you... twice." A vein flared on his temple, his grip on my hand tightening. There was no real venom, mostly annoyance and a glint of respect.
"I think I might remember it, vaguely. Don't feel too bad. You're really good, but I've gotten the ball through the legs of far better players than you." I said with a bright smile.
"Am I supposed to feel flattered or insulted?" Sung-tae chuckled, releasing my hand.
"Feel like you should work harder to avoid being nutmegged." I replied. "Twice, no less."
His laugh died. "Yeah... no shit..."
I slightly patted him on the back as we finished putting on our kits. I glanced at him. "Well, if we want to achieve something, this time, we should live, sleep and eat on the pitch. The threshold of talent outside Korea is vastly superior compared to us."
And that was something that concerned my future plans. It doesn't matter how gifted you are individually, there's only so much you can do by yourself. The rest of the team has to do their part.
If there was one thing that Koreans had for themselves, it was iron solid discipline and cohesiveness.
"I know that very, very, very well." Sung-tae said, glancing sideways at Kim Jun-hwan. "That's why I'm glad both you and Jun-hwan accepted the call-up. If we want to compete at the next level, we need all our pieces in place. Don't worry, we'll do our best not to drag you two down too badly."
Coming from someone who was a reputed prodigy in his own club, it spoke volumes about his vote of confidence in me… but I didn't need that kind of half-resigned reassurance. I wanted him to want it. To really mean it.
"You should do your best to win the tournament, Song Sung-tae."
"Yeah. Easier said than done."
"Then train harder and make it easy to be said and done, then."
"......"
Song Sung-tae gave me a thoughtful look.
"Don't even assume that second place or third place would be good enough. Otherwise, you might as well leave the place for someone more deserving of your spot. The national team isn't just some mere stepping stone or platform for kids. We're here to give the people a result that they'll never forget. We're going to the World Cup not just for ourselves, but for everyone." I lightly fisted his shoulder. To wake him up a little, or ground him in reality. "Come on now, let's go out. Prove it with your actions."
He was staring at me. A small smile grew on his face.
"I'll hold you to that, Captain Cha." He lightly shoved my chest. "You better keep up!"
Captain? I snorted.
"I won't be following behind you, that's for sure." I smiled back.
…
Outside, the grass of the pitch was wet with morning dew, glittering in the weak sunlight. The sun hadn't yet risen to its zenith, casting a thin layer of mist over the training center. Overall, it was neither too hot nor too cold.
"Alright boys." The Coach spoke loudly and clearly. "Let's see how bad your shape really is. We'll start with a some laps around the field. After that, warm-ups. Then, we can begin with our first round of drills and scrimmages."
Park Jong-su groaned next to me, stretching his calf. "Let's not race each other just yet." He smiled, winking at me.
"You think that you have the slightest chance?" I retorted, chuckling.
"Wanna bet?" His eyes sparkled. "Loser washes the winner's underwear for the next week?"
"That seems extremely unsanitary." Song Sung-tae added as he joined us. His hair was slicked back, giving him an even haughtier expression than normal. "Besides, he knows he'd lose to you. He just wants a reason to wash your briefs, man."
"......"
I froze, and backed off quietly.
"Wait, that's not it!" Jong-su protested, horror turning quickly into irritation as Sung-tae laughed. "I didn't mean it like that! Damn it!"
Within seconds, the two were wrestling on the pitch, childlike and loud, until an assistant coach intervened, scolding them sharply.
Coach Ahn ki-seok blew his whistle with authority. "Come on! Run! Run! Run!"
I took a deep breath and began running, along with everyone else.
"Let's see if you can catch up." I smirked at the duo. Jong-su and Sung-tae gave each other one look before breaking off and following after me.
They didn't take long to catch me up, but after I changed gears, it was obvious that they struggled. Still, it didn't matter, because as long as they tried their very best, I didn't mind it. As I ran, an unexpected shadow made his way forward. I didn't have to glance over to know that Kim Jun-hwan had caught up to us.
His face was unreadable. Not hostile, or friendly. Just... determined I guess. This was the perfect occassion to say that the guy had a fire in his eyes.
He easily surpassed Jong-su and Sung-tae. Not surprising. His controlled, even breaths sounded out from behind me. I looked back. He looked straight at me. There was no sneer or snide remark. Just... acknowledgment. We locked eyes for a second, before I looked away. "Not bad, Kim. Not bad at all." I remarked.
"Likewise, Cha."
I sped up.
He did the same.
Leaving a chasm between us and the rest of the players.
I knew that it was not the purpose of today's practice to break the formation and tire myself out like this. That's what the Coach would've said. He wouldn't be very pleased to see the first stringers leaving the other ones in the dust like that.
Oh well. That wasn't going to stop me. It certainly didn't stop the ones behind me either.
I kicked up my pace even further.
Kim did as well, right by my side.
For the first time, I saw the beginnings of an honest, human-like grin appear on his face.
Jong-su and Sung-tae clenched their teeth and surged forward as well.
It sparked a chain reaction. The 20–30 other players on the pitch, seeing the stragglers on the verge of overtaking them after having already completed one lap, suddenly found their egos bruised. One by one, they started accelerating, trying to reclaim ground.
I couldn't really describe what came after.
All that I remembered, however, was that everyone pushed themselves further, ran faster than they usually did.
And Coach Ahn ki-seok let it happen from the sidelines, merely watching, observing.
And then, a slow smile formed on his face.