I don't particularly feel that a match is anything special.
Honestly, I was active as a professional player right up until my retirement ceremony. Rather than the bench, being on the pitch feels more comfortable and familiar to me.
However, if there is one sense of anticipation I hadn't felt before...
My physical condition is too good. When was the last time it was this good?
Fresh knees, joints that have no resistance no matter what angle I twist them, and even ankles overflowing with elasticity. My body feels so light, as if I'm wearing new clothes.
In the past, living through the rough lower leagues as if enduring professional life, I underwent multiple surgeries from rolling and getting scraped. Three surgeries on my right knee, one on my left knee, and scalpel marks on both ankles. It reached a point where my body didn't feel like my own.
Especially when I received my third knee surgery, I couldn't even bend it properly, nor could I apply force anymore, making even shooting a struggle. Still, thanks to that, I became able to handle my left foot a bit better, but not being able to use my dominant foot properly when needed remained a regret for me.
"He's doing that again."
"Was he a frog in his past life? Why is he hopping around like that?"
"It's a routine. They say geniuses have their own routines. Just like me."
"Timothy, why are you a genius? The thing you do most during a match is kicking at the air. Is that your routine?"
"It's better than a defender who closes his eyes when heading, like someone I know."
"What? You rascal! I didn't close my eyes! I got hit by an elbow!"
As I went up to the pitch, the sound of the players' conversation drifted over.
Before the start of the second half, it was time to gather in a circle and have one last team talk. I joined late because I was loosening up my muscles, but in that time, the atmosphere had turned fierce again.
We were losing, so perhaps it was natural. Rather, if they were nonchalant, that would have been more disappointing. If they lost their competitive spirit while losing a match, it would have been torture for me, who has to play amongst them.
The best way to loosen the atmosphere at times like this? Compliments, of course.
"We are losing right now, but it's not because the opponent is better than us. Actually, watching from the outside, our skills are better. So everyone, just stay calm. I'll help with whatever I can help with."
"Oh, JT sounds like a coach."
"Hmph. A guy who can't even do team play properly is just all talk."
"JT is good at team play, though? Didn't you see the assist he gave me yesterday? Genius pass and genius finish? Robert would agree too."
"That was just you guys getting lucky and picking up scraps...!"
"Bobo. In defensive situations, I'll frequently drop down too. So take it easy, be comfortable. If you just relax a little, you can do better. Got it?"
"...Tch, let's see how it goes."
After gathering their hands and shouting a cheer together, the players moved to their respective positions.
This should be better than before. Above all, I saw the guy named Bobo, who had turned his head away primly, smile slightly. As expected, people need to express themselves.
❋ ❋ ❋
"Let's go, boys!" "Show them who we are! We are here to win, win, win!"
As the second half started, the voices of various people filling the spectator stands tangled together.
There might be fans who even watch youth matches, but most of the spectators are acquaintances or family of the players. So, a characteristic of cheering at youth matches is that very one-sided chants are exchanged.
For reference, my mom is not in there. She wanted to come, but couldn't because of me.
The past me, upon falling into a slump, found the cause and responsibility outside like a loser. Mom was naturally one of them. Saying I couldn't concentrate if Mom came, or whatever. Anyway, I was truly a hopeless guy. Just seeing their son playing makes everyone that happy. This unfilial son stole that small joy from his mother.
Next match, I should tell Mom to come watch if she has time. Before that, right now...
"Don't keep getting pushed back! You have to help from the side!"
Time to focus on the match.
The start of the second half flowed in a similar pattern to the first half. Although the match started with our kickoff, we were pushed back by the active defense of DC United, who invested quite a bit in forward pressure tactics, leading to another impatient retreat.
The sound of Manager Michael shouting urgently from the technical area reached my ears, but it didn't seem to reach the players' ears.
Whoosh!
Then, a rare scene emerged. A scene where the team defending at the front attempted a tackle against the team rotating the ball at the rear. Fortunately, the ball wasn't stolen, but it seemed like a scene that could explain who was leading the current flow. But eventually...
"Ah!"
Another pass miss occurred.
Bobo, who was trying to unravel it somehow, turned his body. Aiming for that gap, a DC United player who stuck from behind extended his toe and caught the pass. After that, the possession passed to the opponent, and we even conceded a decisive shooting chance. Fortunately, it didn't lead to a conceded goal.
But with this, Bobo's pace completely collapsed. His pupils dilated and his face stiffened.
That state, I know it well too. A pitch-black pressure where it feels like everything that happens is due to one's own mistake. Nothing comes to mind, just a state where only breathing becomes rapid. If the match continues in that state, it's obvious that the worst situation will ensue.
"Bobo, from now on, look only at me!"
I conveyed to Bobo the words the past me wanted to hear most in moments like that.
❋ ❋ ❋
"This seems like the worst timing to visit? Our kids are completely discouraged."
"That's why you need to go visit them even more. You have to at least comfort them at times like this so the kids can recover."
"I know it's good intention, but do you know what a player thinks at times like that? They wish no one knew them, that they could just disappear from the spot. Especially kids at that age are so sensitive. At times like this, silently cheering is better than comforting."
Two men wearing sunglasses looked down at the pitch where the match was in full swing.
One of the men, wearing a semi-suit, took off his sunglasses and touched his nose. The top scorer of Spain, called the Invincible Armada, and a loyal member who achieved victory in Euro 2008 and the 2010 World Cup, David Villa.
David Villa, who went from Valencia through Barcelona and is now active after joining New York City FC, scratched his forehead while watching the U-16 match.
Usually having a lot of interest in youth, he visited the stadium to lift the spirits of the club youths on his rare day off. But looking at this, it seems like a situation where it would be better not to visit today.
Above all, the fear of mistakes. One can make mistakes, but from the moment one stops due to fear, growth stagnates. The reason why confidence must be continuously instilled in youth lies in this. However, if the flow continues like this, his appearance might rather break the children's spirits.
"Hmm?"
Then, a player caught David Villa's eye.
An Asian player with a slightly smaller physique compared to other players. However, a player who wasn't discouraged at all in the current situation and was rather raising his voice. His name is...
"Jin-Tae?"
David Villa gathered his eyes with interest at the appearance of the player who reminded him of the times when past fans called him a kid.
❋ ❋ ❋
Bobo was confused. Above all, it was hard to snap out of it.
There are many teams that attempt forward pressure, but this was the first time facing a kind like DC United today. A feeling that no matter where he turned his head, it was only opponents. It felt uncomfortable even to breathe, as if he was trapped in a corner and being persistently bitten.
As a result, his weakness at his feet became even more apparent, leading to this state. Thinking that a defender only needs to defend well, he tried to overcome it with his body like usual, but today's match resulted in an even bigger accident. If I knew this would happen, I would have focused more on sensory training.
But regret is always late. Bobo, who had exposed a situation that almost led to another goal, turned pale. Not twice, but making a third mistake in one match. Although his player life hadn't been long, he felt like it was over today.
Then, the voice he heard. Kim Jin-tae. It was the voice of the guy called JT because his name was hard to pronounce. Look only at you? To look at him who went up to the 2nd line in a situation where his vision was blocked because he couldn't even see the player right next to him properly.
What kind of nonsense was that? Even right now, amongst the DC United guys rushing in crazily...
...Huh? I see him?
He saw Jin-tae, who opened space in exactly an empty spot and was waiting for him. Why do I see him? But if I see him this clearly...
Bang!
I have no choice but to give the pass.
❋ ❋ ❋
New York City FC's basic tactical keynote is 4-3-3.
Here, if the line is raised one step overall according to the flow during attack, it forms a diamond-shaped 4-4-2. I, taking the Number 10 role, take responsibility for the 2nd line, and both wing forwards narrow in from the front line.
When defending or preparing for rear build-up, conversely, we come down one step each to build a wide-shaped 4-5-1. Therefore, originally my position should be relatively fixed, but...
Bang.
Right now, I went down a little more and received the ball. The two midfielders supporting Bobo's front couldn't create space at all due to DC United's tight marking. As expected, when I created one more option, Bobo immediately attached a pass to me.
But...
"Now! Tighten up!"
As if waiting for this moment, DC United drove forward pressure strongly once again. Anticipating that we would add a new option to unravel the rear pressure, they prepared additional pressure tactics. As soon as I touched the ball, a DC United defender sticking closely behind my back tied my feet...
Tok. "...?!"
I pushed the ball between the legs of the guy staring at me stupidly and broke through. If you rush in with your legs spread wide like that, how can I resist?
As I peeled off DC United's first close pressure by lightly Nutmegging him... Another defender quickly narrowed the distance to block my front.
The core concept prepared by DC United in today's match is a windmill pressure that drives incessantly. Since the players over there generally have better physique and stamina than us, they designed it to press actively from all directions. Accordingly, they prepared quite solid organization, and the form constituting the formation was also quite solid.
Thud!
But there's no need to peel off these thick defensive walls one by one, right? It was a situation where no less than two defenders stuck only to my front. And if two people pulled their positions? Naturally, a gap must open.
I attached a lobbing pass over the head of Timothy, who had infiltrated into that gap. Timothy's eyes widened roundly upon discovering the ball.
"Ooooh! As expected of JT! Genius pass!"
Well. I don't think attaching a pass over the head of an attacker running towards the goalpost from any position is that level. Still, whatever...
Bang—swish!
If it's solved well, then it's all good. Like a dolphin show, the ball that hit Timothy's forehead bounced up once. The ball passed over the head of the goalkeeper rushing out, crossed the goal line, and wound into the net. With this, the spark to continue the match has been saved for now.
(End of Chapter)
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