I thought I was a genius.
No. I must have been a genius.
Two consecutive championships in the National Elementary League King of Kings tournament. Selected for the Cha Bum-kun Football Award Best XI as a forward. Every day, I was bombarded with heated interest from scouts of overseas clubs.
I grew up basking in a spotlight that only a true genius could command.
Weighing the interest of various clubs, I eventually put on the Manchester City kit at the age of 15. It was a dream for anyone who plays the sport. But it didn't take long to realize the truth.
The world was overflowing with geniuses. And among those geniuses, I was painfully ordinary.
[Breaking News: Kim Jin-tae, the 'Korean Maradona' who joined Manchester City, fails to adapt abroad?!]
[3 consecutive days of training absence! Reported to be struggling with homesickness amidst fierce competition.]
[Kim Jin-tae falls out of favor with U-16 manager and coaches. Is release imminent?]
[Kim Jin-tae confirmed for loan to New York City FC, a City Group partner club!]
[Manchester City Sports Director speaks on Kim Jin-tae's loan: "We always prioritize the player's growth. For JT right now, New York, with less pressure than Manchester, might be a better fit."]
[Kim Jin-tae leaves Manchester after only six months. The regretful failure of South Korea's top prospect.]
...
Because expectations were so high, people frequently used the word "failure" to describe me after I couldn't succeed at Manchester City.
In their eyes, it might have been a failure. No. It was a failure.
My life afterwards consisted of wandering through the second divisions of various countries just to maintain my career as a player. It was certainly not what they had anticipated.
Still, in my final years, I returned to the K-League. I experienced a long-forgotten championship victory and was even selected for the national team to step onto the World Cup stage. I managed to comfort myself by saying I had done my best in my own way.
But sometimes, I still think about it. What was the problem?
Receiving too much attention at too young an age? The training load? Or did I simply lack the talent?
All of these might have been factors, but...
Fundamentally, I was just an arrogant jerk.
Even in a place where all the so-called geniuses were gathered, the person who gets that extra look or that extra bit of care is the one who knows how to express gratitude. In that regard, I was the worst.
I took everything for granted. I thought everything belonged to me. How could a guy like that adapt after going abroad?
Maybe if my skills were overwhelming, it would have been a different story. But in an academy filled with kids called geniuses, I couldn't dominate alone.
It was only in the twilight of my career that I tasted some success, and that was only after "Thank you" became a habit.
Expressing gratitude to teammates who assisted me. Thanking the coaches who helped with my training routines. When I started greeting the fans who still believed in me despite my fall to the bottom, I began to gain strength.
Opportunities followed, and I was able to reach this point.
"If I had realized this truth just a little sooner, how would things have been, Mom?"
Ahead of my retirement ceremony tomorrow, I came to see my mother.
She was someone who only suffered, wandering foreign lands because of her son, before leaving this world first. I had shaken off many regrets, but the biggest lingering sorrow in a corner of my heart was that I never properly told her "Thank you."
A guy who spent his whole life kicking a ball only expressed gratitude to someone for the first time while preparing for his mother's funeral. I never even gave her the chance to hear it.
That habit of speaking gratefully started when I sincerely thanked my mentors who helped with the funeral. Thanks to that, the current version of me could exist.
I filled the vase with the flowers Mom used to like and prepared snacks with the food she enjoyed. And hoping to come back again next time...
"Thank you for everything, Mom."
I finally offered the farewell I had been holding in my heart all this time.
❋ ❋ ❋
"...?"
This is strange. I definitely went to sleep early to prepare for tomorrow's retirement match.
But when I opened my eyes, I was standing on a football pitch, not in my bed. What is this? Am I still dreaming? If it's a dream, it's far too vivid.
"Alright, today is a practice match day. This is also a form of training. Try to apply what you've practiced so far. And above all, be careful not to injure each other!"
As my field of view slowly widened, the surroundings came into focus. But somehow, my eye level felt lower than usual. Did I shrink?
As time passed, the groggy sensation began to fade. And then, current memories were injected into my mind one by one.
Today was exactly one week since I had moved to New York City FC and started training.
❋ ❋ ❋
"We aren't babysitters. Aren't they just dumping him on us too casually?"
Michael, who was leading the NYCFC Academy U-16 team, grumbled to his colleague, the head coach. The gazes of the two men were fixed on the Asian boy, Kim Jin-tae, who was awkwardly warming up.
"If they wanted to entrust him to us, they should have done it properly. Attaching a handler from Man City just means they don't trust our system, right?"
"That might be true. Or maybe they just care about this prospect that much. They say he signed a professional contract. Anyway, they said he'll be going back after today. Just endure it for one day."
"Tsk. They dump a prospect they care so much about after just six months? You know that doesn't add up, right?"
"Rumor has it he ran away from the training ground. Maybe they used this as a last resort. At least here, he actually comes out to train."
At the explanation from Tony... Tony was a former teammate who now operated the team alongside him as a head coach. At his words, Michael, the youth team manager, twisted the corner of his lips.
Manager Michael wasn't ignorant of the situation. New York City FC was a newborn team, only in its third year since founding and having spent just one year on the professional stage. The only reason players like David Villa, Andrea Pirlo, and Frank Lampard could join and play here was entirely due to the background of the 'City Group'.
However, because of that background, there were situations where they had to bow to the City Group's decisions, just like now. Whether it was poaching local prospects at will, or recklessly sending over players who were struggling to adapt over there.
That's right. In situations like this, the player isn't at fault. But isn't it the player's fault if he can't say a single word of thanks? Above all, if the reason for that is purely due to his own ego for self-realization, isn't that even more of a problem?
"Tsk, look at him. Now they won't even pass to him. The kids have figured it out too."
Manager Michael sighed as he watched Kim Jin-tae kicking the ball alone among the players warming up.
In fact, Manager Michael hadn't looked at Kim Jin-tae with such bias from the beginning. He had trained with them for a week, yet he didn't mix a single word with his teammates. When they tried to pass to him, his greed took over as he tried to resolve everything by himself.
With things tangling up like this for a week, his relationship with the players, and even the coaches, had become twisted.
"It's not that he lacks talent, but..."
Manager Michael muttered quietly with a face full of regret. But what could be done? The only one who could break that shell was the boy himself.
❋ ❋ ❋
Peeeeeeep!
The whistle signaled the start of the practice fixture. I was deployed as the Left Wing Forward. I think I used to play mostly as a second-line Attacking Midfielder during this period.
I guess they couldn't entrust the CAM role to a player to whom no one wants to pass.
It had already been 10 minutes since the practice match started. But in those 10 minutes, the ball didn't come my way even once.
My isolated personality probably created this position and situation. Fragments of the injected memories resurfaced. Even so, when I first trained, my teammates did pass to me. But I dragged the ball around, insisting on handling it alone. I reaped what I sowed.
Back then, I was actually in quite a complicated state of mind. I was shocked by the fact that Manchester was teeming with geniuses my age who surpassed me, and even more shocked because I never expected to be released on loan from Manchester.
So, I was probably consumed by the greed to prove myself here somehow and return to Manchester even a day sooner. But the result?
As I had already experienced once, I failed miserably. After returning from the loan, my contract termination was decided. As everyone knows well, I began wandering through various countries as a journeyman.
Let's review the past for a moment. What choice did I make here back then?
Ah, I remember. I committed a back tackle during the practice match and got sent off straight away. I was probably permanently marked as a problem child because of that tackle.
If I just refrain from the back tackle this time, will that be at least half a success? But... if I really have returned to the past, can I be satisfied with just holding back a tackle?
Tap, tap.
I stood in place for a moment and checked my knees. I could feel the fresh elasticity, untouched by surgery. Then my ankles, thighs, and joints.
With this body, there is something I can do even without the ball. I can run.
❋ ❋ ❋
"...?!"
Manager Michael, who had been watching the flow of the practice match from the sidelines, furrowed his brow. Suddenly, Kim Jin-tae began moving his body this way and that.
Was he bored because the ball wasn't coming, or was he just amusing himself? Manager Michael observed Kim Jin-tae's odd behavior as he seemed to check his body parts. But when Kim Jin-tae started to shift his position, Michael crumpled his eyebrows in anxiety.
He knew the players were ostracizing Kim Jin-tae and refusing to acknowledge him, but he couldn't intervene blindly. The players had their reasons. If he forced them down with the authority of a manager, it could explode into a bigger problem.
Therefore, he believed this was a problem Kim Jin-tae had to overcome himself. But what if he couldn't overcome it? If he clashed with his teammates instead, what would be his first action?
"Tony. Be ready."
"I'm watching him too."
The two men focused on Kim Jin-tae with tense faces. Just as they were anxiously wondering what kind of action Kim Jin-tae would take...
Pa-pa-pa-pat!
"!"
Contrary to their expectations, eyes widened as Kim Jin-tae began to sprint. He wasn't just running. Dummy Run. Kim Jin-tae was running to become a decoy for his teammate.
❋ ❋ ❋
The basis of football tactics is space. How to utilize or control space is the foundation and root of strategy and tactics. Therefore, a Dummy Run like this, tying up the defenders' vision to me, was the most basic tactic.
But thinking back, I had never run for someone else when I was young. Countless players ran for me, but I thought of it as something entirely natural.
There was a moment when my understanding of such space grew significantly: when I suffered a knee injury. In a situation where I could no longer just run fast, I pondered and trained on how to create space, and my understanding deepened.
However, there is a basic prerequisite for this Dummy Run. The opposing defenders and my team's attackers must acknowledge my movement.
There's no disregard quite like this.
Not only my fellow attackers, but even the defenders showed absolutely no reaction to my movement. They must have known from the start that the ball wouldn't come to me. Still, I kept running.
I was being completely ignored, yet the situation where I could run like this was enjoyable. Because in the past, I couldn't run even if I wanted to. And if I keep running like this...
Flinch!
Inevitably, a situation arises where they have to react at least once. The opposing team's fullback reacted to my movement, causing the distance between him and the center back to widen slightly.
It was a very brief moment, but enough space for a teammate dribbling the ball to exploit. Blocked by the defensive wall until now, my teammate finally succeeded in breaking through and scored the first goal.
"Alex! Don't look at that side! Why did you leave your position? We got breached because of you!"
"S-Sorry!"
"No one passes to that jerk anyway. Just keep ignoring him."
That's correct. If the ball doesn't come anyway, running a hundred times has no effect. After all, this is a sport where you have to put the ball in the net to win. Running without the ball is meaningless. However.
Thud.
Just once. What if the ball comes just once out of tens or hundreds of times?
Even if it's not an intended pass, but a ball deflected off the defensive wall like now. If the flow of the ball changes just once. Eventually, it has to come in front of me again, just like this.
The friend named Alex, who just got yelled at by his teammate, hurriedly narrowed the distance to block my path again. He intended to fundamentally block any gap for a dribble penetration. It was good defending. The distance was decent. His posture wasn't bad either.
Tok.
But that defense was strictly limited to stopping a dribble. Thanks to that, I cut the ball short and connected a pass into the space behind the defense, which was wide open.
"Uh, wait! Behind! Block the space behind!"
"Damn it, it's already too late! Timothy already has the ball!"
It isn't a play of genius. But there is no need to insist on genius plays. Just because a genius scores, it doesn't count as two goals.
(End of Chapter)
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