Chapter 64: Maenggu, Let’s Play~ (4)

The first half ended with Manchester United in the lead.

But for some reason, the atmosphere around the team was not good at all.

On the green turf of Old Trafford, the players stood frozen, staring blankly at the goal.

The passionate cheers from the 80,000 spectators at the start of the match had vanished, replaced by a heavy silence.

The colossal stadium was as quiet as a vacuum.

“Stop spacing out and get in here.”

Coach Raul Cruz’s low voice broke the silence that had filled the space.

At his words, the players began to move slowly, like defeated soldiers.

As he walked ahead of the players heading to the locker room, he maintained a composed expression on the outside.

But the sound from the ballpoint pen in his hand foretold the storm brewing within him.

Click- click-

Hearing that ominous sound, the hearts of the players following behind grew heavier and heavier.

They had certainly done their best.

Their performance had been more than enough to fluster City.

But against a single goalkeeper, an impenetrable wall named Jeong Tae-woo, all their efforts had turned to nothing.

Furthermore, their coach, usually an elegant gentleman, became a completely different person in the locker room.

The players knew his two faces all too well.

Click- click-

Once inside the locker room, the players all bowed their heads in silence.

An unbearable anger was already seeping into Coach Raul Cruz’s face.

Rage seemed ready to burst from between his deep-set wrinkles, slowly spreading.

Click-

The pen made one last sound before it fell from his hand.

As the sound of it hitting the cold floor echoed throughout the locker room, the players’ shoulders flinched.

Raul Cruz slowly looked over his players and opened his mouth.

Surprisingly, his voice was not filled with anger.

If anything, it was calm.

“You must feel miserable.”

“…”

“You did your best, and you made no mistakes. City was so flustered by our tactics they couldn’t even put up a proper fight. By anyone’s standards, we had the upper hand.”

His calm voice resonated in the locker room.

“If this were a match against any other team… our fans would be cheering wildly by now.”

The players remained silent.

“That’s why this situation is even more infuriating. We clearly poured everything we had into it, but the opponent’s defense wouldn’t break… Honestly, I’m so angry right now I want to kick that thing.”

He paused to catch his breath before speaking again.

“But I won’t. No, there’s no need. The fact that we dominated the first half doesn’t change just because we didn’t score.”

He lifted his head and looked at each of the players.

“So stop making those faces. Show me the champions of last season. When we won the championship, we overcame situations far worse than this countless times.”

“Understood.”

“Yes, let’s be confident. Anyone who would criticize us after seeing a performance like this would have complained no matter what we did.”

***

In the lives of football players, there are special moments that only they know.

No one can explain it, but it’s something every player experiences at least once…

A magical moment that is usually invisible.

From the instant the ball touches the tip of your foot, a day when everything falls perfectly into place.

A moment when, as if destiny itself decided to help, everything that seemed impossible becomes possible.

At Real Madrid, it was Guti.

Usually, he was just an ordinary commander of the midfield.

But sometimes… for him, everything that seemed impossible would become possible.

We called it ‘Guti’s Day.’

And today, I felt with my entire body that my moment had come.

The sensation from the tip of my toes, the intuition flashing through my mind, and the conviction echoing from deep within my heart.

It was a day where everything aligned perfectly.

As if fate had decided to be on my side.

The saves I had shown just now were not something that could be explained by simple reaction speed or skill.

They were, in a word, magical.

‘Did a god descend upon me today?’

If I had a premonition that I should dive to the left, the ball flew exactly there.

If my intuition whispered ‘right,’ a shot would invariably follow in that direction.

It was as if the game itself was following my premonitions.

“This is a new feeling for a goalkeeper.”

I had experienced it often during my time as a striker.

Those days when it felt like any shot I took would find the back of the net.

But this feeling as a goalkeeper was different.

An absolute conviction that I could block any ball that came my way.

‘I’ll have to call this Tae-woo’s Day.’

[Alex Turner sharply intercepts the ball from City’s Sanchez and immediately launches a counterattack!!]

“Ha… if we could just score one goal at a time like this, Man United would collapse.”

Manchester United had dominated the game throughout the first half.

Their overwhelming possession, sharp attacks, and perfect tactical execution.

But each time all those attacks were nullified at my fingertips, their confidence began to crack, little by little.

That’s why I was sure they would crumble in the second half.

No matter how strong a team was, the psychology after missing numerous decisive chances was predictable.

But Raul Cruz was indeed a world-class manager.

Even in the second half, Man United hadn’t lost any of their momentum from the first.

Instead, they pressed us with even stronger pressure.

As if the frustrations of the first half had never existed in the first place.

Of course, if we were to score first, that seemingly perfect solidarity would crumble in an instant…

‘Why can’t you guys score…’

Sanchez’s ball control was unusually unstable today, and Castillo kept showing gaps in the side defense.

Even Guerrero was failing to properly contest the ball up front.

No matter how strong Man United’s pressure was, this wasn’t like us.

‘Or… should I just go out there and score a goal myself?’

Honestly, it wasn’t impossible.

My striker’s instincts were still vivid.

But if I went out without the coach’s orders, it could become a big problem.

‘He might take it as insubordination…’

The coach wasn’t that kind of person, but outsiders might misunderstand it as a lack of charisma on his part.

There was no need for me to create such unnecessary controversy myself.

I adjusted my goalkeeper gloves and erased the fantasy from my mind.

My job right now was to protect our goal.

That alone was enough to drive Man United to despair.

[Unbelievable! Jeong Tae-woo once again blocks a decisive shot from Turner! Does this goal have any intention of opening today?]

[No, from what I can see, you can’t even hear a sigh. Old Trafford, said to be the most passionate stadium in the world… is now filled with complete silence.]

The 90th minute of the second half.

During the two minutes of additional time.

Finally, a valid counterattack from Manchester City began.

[Guerrero skillfully breaks through Manchester United’s defense! He’s fast! And- ah! He’s taken down by a tackle from behind!]

[The referee blows the whistle! A free-kick is awarded! At this crucial moment just before the end of the game… in what might be the last chance, the fate of the match will likely be decided by this Manchester City free-kick!]

Old Trafford held its breath.

It felt as if the heartbeats of 80,000 spectators were beating as one.

Anxious sighs erupted from the home stands, while shouts of anticipation burst from the away section.

The entire stadium was engulfed in a stillness, as if time had stopped.

It was then.

From the bench, Coach Peter Guardian gestured towards me decisively.

“Tae-woo, you take it.”

“Me?”

“Yes, I know very well that you’re good at free-kicks.”

Had he been watching?

All this time, to not lose the feeling in my feet, I had been secretly doing the training I did as a striker.

After goalkeeper training ended, I would stay alone on the empty training ground.

Sometimes under a clear, cloudless sky, I would stand before the goal every night, kicking the ball and replaying the countless shots I had saved.

The shape of the opponent’s foot, the trajectory of the ball, even its slight spin.

All the experience I gained as a goalkeeper actually helped me create more precise shots.

Nobody knew.

That I still practiced my shooting even after becoming a goalkeeper.

At least, that’s what I had thought.

[An incredible scene is unfolding. Manchester City’s goalkeeper, Jeong Tae-woo, is preparing to take the free-kick himself. This is truly… an unprecedented situation!]

I slowly walked towards the free-kick spot.

[No, this is really… after showing such unbelievable saves in today’s match, Jeong Tae-woo is now stepping up to take a free-kick. The very foundation of what I know about goalkeepers feels like it’s crumbling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a scene like this!]

While the referee marked the position of the defensive wall with spray, I took a deep breath.

The distance to Man United’s goal, the direction of the wind, the height of the wall… all the elements I usually calculated as a goalkeeper now began to appear through the eyes of a world-class striker once again.

[The wall is being set up. The expressions on the Man United players’ faces are grim. Perhaps it’s because they’ve directly experienced Jeong Tae-woo’s performance today?]

[Jeong Tae-woo is now just waiting for the referee’s whistle. Old Trafford has fallen silent…]

‘I can really call today’s game Tae-woo’s Day! If I even score a goal at the end…’

[Jeong Tae-woo runs up! He shoots!!!]

[After blocking every shot in the first and second halves, Jeong Tae-woo stabs a dagger into the heart of the previous season’s champions, Man Utd, with a fantastic no-spin free-kick goal.]