Chapter 004
“Our grandson says he wants to play football?”
“That’s what I’m telling you, Dad.”
After receiving a call from his daughter-in-law, Choi Cheol-gyu stroked his chin.
“That little rascal did have good athletic instincts…”
He recalled his grandson’s childhood.
Whenever Cheol-gyu rolled a ball toward him, little Johan had actually handled it rather well.
But perhaps it simply hadn’t suited his tastes, because Johan had quickly lost interest.
Johan had only been six at the time, so it hadn’t been the boy’s fault.
The one at fault had been Choi Cheol-gyu himself, getting overly excited after seeing the child touch a ball and trying to push him too hard.
“It’s good that he’s interested now, though…”
“Even you think it’s too late, don’t you?”
“No. Not necessarily.”
Most players began their careers at a very young age, but there were plenty of exceptions.
Didier Drogba, for example, had started playing football at the age of fifteen. Klose had started even later, at sixteen—roughly the age of a high school student in Korea.
“Oh my, Drogba started playing football at fifteen?”
Han Ji-eun, his daughter-in-law and a Chelsea fan, immediately reacted to the mention of Chelsea legend Drogba.
“That’s right. At least, as far as I know. Anyway, if that’s why everyone’s getting together, I’ll come over to your place this evening.”
“No, it’s okay. My husband is getting off work early today anyway. He’s going straight to the academy, and I don’t have an evening class today, so I’m planning to take Johan there myself.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Let Johan see you, and then we can all have dinner together, Dad.”
“Alright. Let’s do that.”
After hanging up, Choi Cheol-gyu smiled contentedly.
Considering the difficult circumstances she had grown up in, his daughter-in-law had turned out remarkably bright, confident, and strong.
He had told her to call him Dad and promised to think of her as his own daughter. Looking back, that might have been one of the best decisions he had ever made.
She was much better than his rough, tomboyish son, who didn’t have a single ounce of charm.
There had been times when he regretted not having another child when his wife—who had passed away early—had suggested it.
But thanks to Han Ji-eun, he no longer felt that regret.
More importantly…
“Football, huh?”
He was curious about why his grandson had suddenly decided he wanted to play football.
At the same time, he couldn’t help feeling a little excited.
“No. No, I can’t become a doting grandfather.”
They said even a hedgehog thought its own children were beautiful. Cheol-gyu had seen countless parents whose judgment had been completely clouded by affection, insisting their talentless children were gifted.
He needed to remain objective.
He had to evaluate Johan strictly and tell him plainly if football wasn’t for him.
He couldn’t let his grandson chase an impossible dream, only to end up frustrated and heartbroken like Cheol-gyu himself—or his son.
If things went badly, Johan might even become another ghost haunting the fringes of the football world, just like him.
“Right. Anyway… I wonder if I have any boots that would fit my grandson…”
That was one matter.
If the boy wanted to play football, Cheol-gyu wanted to give him a pair of football boots.
He began rummaging through the boots he kept in his office as gifts to encourage the talented children at his academy.
He saw his grandson often, but simply thinking about seeing him made Choi Cheol-gyu hum to himself.
I headed to Grandpa’s academy in Mom’s car.
Just before I got out—
“Son, if Grandpa says you don’t have any potential, you won’t start playing. Understand?”
Mom repeatedly reminded me.
“Yes.”
“You know that no matter how much Grandpa loves you, he’s strict when it comes to football, right? If you’re going to start, you have to show him your very best. And just because he’s your grandfather, don’t throw a tantrum in front of him, okay?”
“I’m not a kid, you know.”
For the record, I had never thrown a tantrum at Grandpa.
That was because Grandpa loved his grandson dearly and usually took care of everything for me before I even had to ask.
Still, I knew perfectly well that he would judge me strictly when it came to football.
That didn’t mean he would harshly scold me, but he was the kind of person who would honestly tell me if I had no talent.
[If he truly loves football, that’s exactly what he should do.]
The angel seemed deeply moved by the image of a grandfather so devoted to football.
Hey, don’t get emotional already. You haven’t even met him yet.
[I can feel his sincerity just from hearing about him. The hopes of those who never reached the top and could only watch from afar often come together to produce one truly great player.]
That sounded incredibly old-fashioned.
It was the sort of thing the elderly coaches I had met as a child would say.
Though, honestly, maybe the problem these days was that there wasn’t enough of that spirit anymore.
[Exactly!!]
Leaving the passionately agreeing angel behind, I got out of the car and went up to Grandpa’s academy.
Grandpa’s academy was located on the top floor of a building in Yeongdeungpo, with the rooftop converted into a futsal pitch.
They trained here on weekdays, then went to a contracted football field on weekends to play practice matches.
“Oh! My grandson is here!”
The moment I opened the door and stepped inside, Grandpa greeted me.
“Grandpa!”
“There you are, my boy. Where’s your dad? Not here yet?”
“Oh, he’s supposed to arrive soon.”
“Looks like the traffic isn’t too bad, then.”
That was true.
If he’d been even ten minutes later, he would have been caught in rush-hour hell.
For the record, Dad worked in sales, so he couldn’t simply leave his car at home.
“I’m here!”
A little later, Dad came upstairs.
“Good. The whole family’s here.”
After saying that, Grandpa put on a deliberately stern expression and looked at me.
“So, you want to play football?”
“Yes.”
Grandpa got straight to the point. Then he stood up and casually held something out to me.
A pair of football boots.
“This is a gift from your grandpa. But they’ll only truly become yours if you can keep playing football. Otherwise… you understand, don’t you?”
“Yes! I understand.”
Nike football boots.
I casually examined the studs.
They were arranged in the most standard, versatile configuration.
[What kind did you wear originally?]
Mine had been modified in a rather unusual way.
Most players adjusted their stud configuration according to their own preferences. I had used longer studs at the front and heel so I could brace myself against opponents and explode forward more effectively.
Jang Ik-deok had been crude and physically imposing. He had needed to hold his ground among crowds of players and burst forward faster than anyone else.
What kind of studs would suit me now?
Well, I’d have to run and find out.
“Now, these are usually called shin guards. They protect your shins.”
Grandpa also gave me various other pieces of equipment in my size—socks, undershirts, and an Iron FC uniform.
The uniform had no name printed on it.
[Orange? That’s unexpected for a team called Iron.]
Iron FC’s uniforms were orange.
‘I told you why my name is Johan, didn’t I?’
[Your grandfather is a Netherlands fan, then?]
‘That’s right.’
Grandpa was a fan of both the Netherlands and Barcelona.
Usually, academies like his copied the uniform designs of famous clubs such as Barcelona, but apparently that was too common, so he had chosen orange instead.
“Put that on, warm up, and then we’ll test you.”
“Okay.”
I changed clothes on the spot.
While I was doing so, Grandpa stared at Dad for a moment before suddenly tossing him a pair of football boots.
“Huh?”
Grandpa spoke to Dad, who made a strange sound.
“You think I’m going to test your kid all by myself? You need to help too!”
“Oh. Sure.”
Dad scratched his head and put on the boots.
“You’re awfully good at tying those laces.”
“You didn’t know I play in amateur morning leagues?”
“What? You still kick a ball around these days?”
“My body’s been itching for it.”
A former university player was always welcomed enthusiastically in amateur football.
[Wouldn’t they practically recruit him personally? A former university player, I mean?]
Not quite.
From what I’d heard, you had to be a former goalkeeper before people would really go out of their way to recruit you.
There were surprisingly many hidden masters in amateur football.
Unfortunately, my father wasn’t a goalkeeper.
Both Grandpa and Dad had been attacking players.
If I joined them, we’d become a three-generation family of forwards.
Anyway, it’s been a long time since I put on football boots.
I had never had any reason to wear them in this life.
In fact, this was my first time.
“You all dressed?”
“Yes, Grandpa.”
“Then let’s start with some warm-ups.”
The three of us stood on the futsal pitch and began preparing.
I was wearing futsal shoes rather than the football boots Grandpa had shown me earlier.
Come to think of it, if I couldn’t wear those boots here anyway, why had he given them to me?
[He’s excited, even if he pretends otherwise. Isn’t he hoping that his blood relative might accomplish the dream he himself couldn’t?]
Oh.
That actually sounded right.
Even while warming up, Grandpa did seem a little excited.
Maybe I should show him something a little more serious.
After warming up, Choi Cheol-gyu brought over a football.
His heart was pounding wildly.
Was it because he was excited?
No.
Rather, he was afraid of being disappointed.
His grandson was like the last hope of a family that had failed, generation after generation, to fulfill its footballing dream.
He was afraid that disappointment might show on his face if the boy turned out to have no talent.
Afraid that Johan would see that expression and lose heart.
“Have you ever practiced juggling? Want to give it a try?”
As he spoke, Choi Cheol-gyu lightly tossed the ball toward his grandson.
People who didn’t play much football—people unfamiliar with controlling a ball with their feet—would often instinctively catch a football with their hands even when they knew perfectly well what it was.
“…!”
But his grandson controlled the ball with his foot.
Perhaps that alone was nothing extraordinary.
What mattered was Johan’s first touch.
He cushioned the falling ball softly, killing its momentum and bringing it neatly down in front of his foot.
Then he flicked it up with his instep and began juggling with remarkable stability.
Having watched countless children over the years, Choi Cheol-gyu could tell immediately whether someone was good at juggling—and roughly how long they could keep going.
‘He could keep that up until he gets tired.’
Johan’s juggling was so stable that, unless something interrupted him, he could probably manage dozens—perhaps hundreds—of touches.
“That’s enough juggling. Pass it over here!”
When Cheol-gyu told him to stop and pass the ball, Johan simply answered, “Okay,” then passed the ball to him as it dropped from above his foot.
“Hmm…”
You could tell a lot from the way someone passed.
Whether it was the pass of a beginner or not.
It was a powerful pass that traveled straight and true, skimming over the turf.
If there were a textbook example of a pass, this was what it would look like.
Choi Cheol-gyu looked at his son, Choi Jeong-hun, with slightly widened eyes.
Jeong-hun was staring back at him with equally round eyes.
“Grandpa! Pass!”
Johan was waving at them with an innocent expression.
Cheol-gyu looked at him, gently rolled the ball forward, and said,
“Keep going toward the goal and shoot!”
“Okay!”
Johan nodded, received the ball, and ran toward the goal.
‘Fast.’
Very fast.
Considering that he was running with the ball at his feet, he was exceptionally fast.
Then, with a simple touch, he pushed the ball into the net.
He looked as though he had dribbled, run, and shot countless times before.
Beginner children of that age usually struggled even to sprint at full speed while controlling the ball.
And they certainly didn’t finish with such an efficient shot.
They tried to smash the ball with all their strength.
Sometimes they made mistakes. Sometimes they barely knew how to shoot and produced a weak effort.
But Johan’s finish was clearly not the clumsy mistake of a beginner.
“Son.”
“Yes?”
“Go try to stop him. I want to see how he does. Johan! Your father will defend you. Think you can get past him and put the ball in the net?”
“Yes!”
After seeing his son answer so enthusiastically, Jeong-hun turned to Cheol-gyu.
“Me? Really, Dad?”
“Go all out and try to stop him. You’ve got your pride as a father, don’t you?”
“I don’t think we really need to go that far…”
Jeong-hun grumbled, but he stretched his hamstrings and took his position in front of the goal.
“No, I’ll stand there too.”
It might seem excessive to go this far, but Choi Cheol-gyu’s heart was now pounding wildly for an entirely different reason.
The sight of his grandson charging forward boldly with the ball reminded him of Johan Cruyff, the man his grandson had been named after.
And that efficient finish in front of goal reminded him of a Brazilian striker.
The potential shown by a child who had supposedly never properly learned football was so astonishing that he wanted to find out where the limit was.
Standing behind Jeong-hun as the final defender, Cheol-gyu spoke to his son’s back.
“Son, do you remember what I used to tell you?”
“What?”
“That real geniuses, unlike ordinary people like us, are born knowing how to control a football without being taught?”
Even a genius needed to learn tactics and movement.
But when it came to controlling the ball itself, true geniuses were born with it.
Unless they were learning flashy tricks and specialized skills, a genius simply took the ball and naturally knew what to do with it.
“What about our grandson?”
“I don’t know…”
While Jeong-hun tilted his head uncertainly, Choi Cheol-gyu called out,
“Start!”
“Go, son!”
At the same moment, Han Ji-eun cheered from behind them, and Johan began running with the ball.
Soon, Johan faced Choi Jeong-hun head-on.
He didn’t stop the ball.
Seeing this, Jeong-hun adjusted his steps to time his challenge before moving in from the side.
He intended to use his physical strength to push the child aside and take the ball.
Just as the two were about to engage physically, Johan suddenly slammed on the brakes.
Unable to stop in time, Jeong-hun moved across Johan’s path.
At the same time, Johan rolled the ball sideways with the sole of his foot and slipped behind Jeong-hun.
“Ha!”
Choi Cheol-gyu couldn’t help exclaiming in admiration.
Where had he learned something like that?
No—even if he’d merely watched someone else do it, that movement alone was worthy of admiration.
Wait, this wasn’t the time for that.
Cheol-gyu moved to block his grandson.
Johan looked at him and seemed to slow down with short, quick steps.
Then he suddenly accelerated, trying to change direction.
It was within Choi Cheol-gyu’s expectations.
Cheol-gyu stretched out his leg in that direction.
At that moment, Johan cut the ball once and tried to go the other way.
Cheol-gyu had predicted that too.
Otherwise, he would have thrown his entire body into the challenge.
Just as he pushed off the ground to block Johan again—
Johan stopped once more.
Then he took a single step sideways and shot.
He had aimed for the empty space created when Choi Cheol-gyu turned his body.
Cheol-gyu’s eyes widened as he turned around.
The ball had left Johan’s foot with tremendous spin, drawing a graceful arc before curling into the upper corner of the goal.
A perfect curling shot.
As he watched it, goosebumps rose all over Choi Cheol-gyu’s body, from head to toe.
A chill ran through him.
He trembled with exhilaration.
‘My grandson…!’
This wasn’t the blind affection of a doting grandfather.
‘He has talent.’
How many children his grandson’s age in the entire country could compare with him?
Choi Cheol-gyu, who had trained and developed countless players, could make a reasonable estimate.
Even if there were any, there would only be a handful.
The boy undeniably had talent.
‘No… he’s a genius!’
His heart began pounding like mad.
