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Translator: uly
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: I Became the Club Owner (5)
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Another day passed.
Hee-won and Jeong-woo sat facing each other at a nearby café.
Cool sunlight filtered through the glass walls.
As if he'd pulled an all-nighter, Jeong-woo's under-eyes were shadowed with deep, dark circles.
"What are you gonna do?"
Hee-won asked, slurping his iced tea through a straw.
The day before, he'd mulled it over with him until no answers came, heading home around dawn.
Jeong-woo took a big bite of his chocolate chip cookie before opening his mouth.
"Sell the club."
Hee-won furrowed his brow.
"Didn't you say selling the club wasn't an option?"
The debt was too massive, and with no marketability, no one would buy it.
Jeong-woo nodded emphatically.
"Probably, if we get relegated, bankruptcy's the only way out."
Even in League One, there were no takers.
Which was why Jeong-woo had agonized all night.
"First, we head to England. Until the end of this season, we give it our all as club owner and keep the team up."
Survival was the top priority.
The club's current value was around 30 billion won,
"I'll sell it dirt cheap. As low as 10 billion, up to 20 billion."
After staying in League One, putting it on the market at a bargain would draw at least one or two interested parties.
For Jeong-woo, found money was still profit.
"Hmm, yeah, that makes sense."
Hee-won scratched his cheek.
It wasn't a bad plan.
The season was only half over.
Jeong-woo straightened his back proudly, putting more force into his voice.
"Life's a gamble from tadpole days. Maybe I should go all-in as club owner. Just avoid relegation, right?"
"Well... win or lose, it's a loss either way."
Hee-won was worried on one hand.
"They say British food sucks..., if we go with Plan A, you're in for it, buddy."
He subtly pulled his chair back, distancing himself, as if it were someone else's problem.
He rolled his eyes toward the floor.
"Aw, me? I've gotta feed my family back in Korea..., I'll send letters when I can. Korean snacks too, if possible...!"
But the words trailed off.
"We'll suffer together."
Jeong-woo cut him off.
Looking at Hee-won blinking in surprise, Jeong-woo abruptly placed his rough, calloused hand over his friend's.
"You told me before, right? To get you a job. I'll hire you. Let's go to England together."
For the first time in a while, Jeong-woo's eyes sparkled innocently.
The reason for bringing Hee-won was simple.
*This guy's coaching skills are average, but his eye for talent and mental care are solid.*
Plus, Hee-won respected his words more than anyone.
*Honestly, psychologically, it's better heading to England two-strong than solo.*
Better to fail together than alone.
Soon, Jeong-woo wore a kind, affectionate smile.
"We're..., closer than blood brothers, aren't we?"
For a moment, Hee-won saw Jeong-woo as a leech.
* * *
At first, Hee-won refused Jeong-woo's offer.
He was senior coach in the K-3 League, after all.
The problem was his position was one that could get axed any day.
The team was in relegation danger, on the verge of firing the manager and staff.
Still, following Jeong-woo meant the "study abroad" label, a plus.
That's what had tempted him initially.
Before knowing the club's situation, of course.
Now, after persistent persuasion, he'd agreed to go to England.
Jeong-woo first offered to cover Hee-won's lodging and meals.
He'd rent a small house in Horwich, England, big enough for Hee-won's family.
Using part of the inheritance from his grandfather.
Jeong-woo planned to live off the club owner's office, since it had one.
Days later, Hee-won's family and Jeong-woo boarded the flight to England.
After the long journey...,
Jeong-woo arrived at the University of Bolton Stadium in Horwich, Greater Manchester, with its bright blue roof.
His first impression of the stadium surroundings:
"Greater Manchester, my ass..., what the hell, this jungle?"
It was nothing like he'd imagined.
The area was surrounded by lush forests and hills.
* * *
Sunlight seeped through the veranda.
Jeong-woo didn't head straight to the club.
He needed mental prep.
The day before, he'd only scoped the exterior before returning to his lodgings.
Hee-won, his sister-in-law, and nephew had struggled with jet lag, falling asleep late and still out.
In the meantime, Jeong-woo looked even more haggard.
The thrill of becoming club owner clashed with nightmares of debt collectors, robbing him of sleep.
But now,
Zzzip-!
He smoothly zipped up slacks he rarely wore.
Swish-!
He donned a crisp white shirt, buttoning it meticulously.
A custom suit prepared in Korea for this day.
Bzzz-!
He boldly shaved off months of beard with an electric razor.
Seeing his strong, smooth jawline in the mirror, Jeong-woo smiled contentedly.
"Wait, is smiling like this better?"
Amid tension and excitement, he practiced smiling.
A club owner had to smile with elegance.
*'Show just five front teeth...'*
He tried a toothy grin that looked sleazy, then pursed lips lifting only the corners.
"..."
No smile looked refined; they all seemed grumpy.
He gave up on smiling.
Instead, he slathered wax on his messy hair, slicking it back.
*Not like it's an MT trip.*
Accepting the 150 billion won debt somehow sparked thrill.
*Debt's a skill too!*
In Korea, even loan sharks like Samwa Money wouldn't lend him more.
Humans were simple creatures.
Finally, slipping on polished dress shoes he hardly wore, Jeong-woo stood before the mirror.
"Damn, looking good."
A sturdy-built man grinned cockily in the reflection.
At 186cm, the suit hung nicely.
"Hoo-!"
Jeong-woo struck poses, then exhaled deeply.
Doubt—"Can I do this?"—nagged him countless times a day.
His soccer experience was just third-division grunt work.
Yet in days, he was club owner.
He didn't even know what a club owner did.
Anxiety about survival had wriggled in his mind before arriving.
It wasn't impossible.
They were struggling, but half the season remained.
*Yeah, I can do it!*
Positive thinking revived his motivation amid unease.
Clap, clap!
He slapped his flushed cheeks loudly, vowing quietly.
"I can do it, Ma Jeong-woo!"
Ding-dong.
Right on cue, the club staff he'd contacted arrived.
* * *
Running a club required countless people.
Players, coaching staff, medical team.
They formed the core, driving league results and revenue.
Behind them: facilities management, PR, finance, production, strategy planning.
Ultimately, the club was a company structure; together, they fulfilled its mission.
"We call them the front office collectively. Or front for short."
Before him, a white-haired gentleman with stylishly swept-back hair smiled softly.
Jeong-woo, legs crossed in the executive chair, nodded slightly.
He knew that much.
"Hmm, got it."
One hand stroking his chin, brows furrowed ever so lightly.
Chin at 45 degrees.
Back straight even sitting.
*'The title makes the man, damn right.'*
Jeong-woo posed with such showy thoughts.
Across sat Richard Geers, executive director.
A veteran who'd devoted years to Bolton.
Now, imparting knowledge to Jeong-woo.
Normally, he'd visit the office first, but per Geers' advice, he delayed.
Geers suggested building Bolton history knowledge before meeting staff.
Jeong-woo agreed wholeheartedly.
All he had now was Gyeul Wiki.
"Now, time to explain Bolton's background. Bolton Wanderers, founded in 1874..."
The explanation dragged on.
Jeong-woo listened earnestly.
From deciding on England, he'd steeled himself.
A whopping 100 million pounds (150 billion won) debt.
*Insanely huge.*
Just thinking of it creased his forehead.
He had to stay sharp until survival and sale.
*'Club owner—gotta know the basics about my club.'*
How much time passed?
Finally, the topic Jeong-woo craved: revenue structure.
As ex-K-3 analyst, he knew basics, but how here?
Geers explained from start to finish with a gentle smile.
"Club revenue falls into five categories. First, matchday income: tickets plus Wanderers season tickets, all totaled."
Like his delayed military dream-chasing days, Jeong-woo was proactive.
"How many season ticket holders?"
"7,020 so far."
Impressive for third tier.
Jeong-woo narrowed his eyes.
"You're not using the upper tier."
The stadium.
Yesterday's recon: top seats covered by tarps.
Geers replied promptly.
"Opening it would secure 35,000 total seats."
"Then why not?"
More seats meant more revenue.
But the follow-up darkened Jeong-woo's face.
"Bolton is an English borough: Bolton, Blackrod, Kearsley, Turtan, Panworth, Westhorton, Horwich—seven parishes total. Combined population: just 240,000. Horwich alone: about 20,000."
"..."
Even Jeong-woo's Jinju City had 340,000.
Small numbers.
Geers continued.
"Bolton borough boomed with wool industry, spinning mills—woolens, cottons."
"So?"
"Good for growth, but... few families have leisure or wealth for weekly soccer."
"Why?"
"Most in wool/cotton production are day laborers."
Busy scraping by daily.
A moment realizing environment shaped attendance.
*Or build a fanbase with cash, like Man City's Mansour.*
Impossible for Jeong-woo with 3 billion won assets.
Average attendance: around 7,000.
"Compared to Sunderland in the same league? A drop in the bucket."
Jeong-woo nodded calmly, muttering.
"Fuck."
Korean, so Geers took it as agreement.
England lived and died by soccer.
But Bolton's environment lacked the culture.
Even soccer nuts weren't Bolton fans.
"As part of Greater Manchester, many local fans are Red Devils or Citizens."
Man United or City supporters.
Like...,
*'MoMad Dog-pops dying to giants.'*
Relegated to third tier, fans fled too.
Geers added calmly, smile intact.
"Still, 7,000 fans per match shows deep team love."
What a positive guy.
Explaining suffocating reality with smiles.
*Solid mentality—gotta keep him.*
Pain shared is truth.
Have a wonderful day~
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