The Little Prince of the Field

Mirandes' players quickly separated the two. 

Player No. 5, who looked confused when he was grabbed by the collar, is also beckoning and swearing with a flushed face. 

“What's wrong with them?” 

I was silent at Inigo's question. 

I have too many things to think about. 

There might be a little misunderstanding between them. 

Should I be honest? But I don't have the courage to go through those Mirandes players and speak. 

Of course, it may be wise not to say a word. 

Even though it was morally flawed, it was also helpful inside the game. 

In my mind, I tried making various excuses according to the various situations here and there, but no matter what the reason may be, the discomfort I felt didn't go away. 

If Castro was in the stadium, I would have asked for mediation, while the disturbance in the stadium is slowly getting cleared up by the referee. 

The number 5 player who used abusive language received a yellow card, and player No. 21, who caused a physical collision was sent off. 

Checking out the red card that came from the back pocket of the referee's pants, the Las Palmas players smiled, but I felt very strange. 

I trampled the grass near the center line and pondered with hesitation, but I couldn't even open my mouth.

Mirandes’ player No. 21 disappears near the stadium entrance. 

Now it's a 10-11 fight. 

The game resumed once again. 

Until the end of the first half, Las Palmas moved as smart as possible under Inigo's direction. 

I made several threatening shots with two or three touches, sometimes exchanged balls for a long time in the center, and waited for the opponent's gaps to be revealed. 

The first half ended without any additional points, but the Mirandes players were not able to hide their tiredness. 

I had a hunch that the 16th match of the league has virtually become Las Palmas’s victory. 

When I found a seat in the corner of the locker room and sat on the bench, Castro came to my side and started to talk with me. 

“You were weirdly lucky. The only thing that is left is to  make a hat-trick in the second half." 

Instead of answering with my mouth, I just gave a small smile. 

I also added a slight snort because I felt like I was lacking in expression, but Castro narrowed his eyes as if he was a detection dog and shot back immediately. 

“What happened?” 

“Why?” 

“You are not the kind of guy who laughs like this. What happened? Pedri!" 

“Huh?”

“What happened during the game?”

“No…Nothing?”

“Why are you late in answering? Did you two fight!?” 

The players who were resting in the locker room looked at the same time. 

"What is it?" 

A sigh came out of my mouth. 

“I didn't do anything wrong.”

“Are you sure?” 

“…Then Kim, did you do something wrong?” 

“No.”

I snarled and went straight to strangle Castro with my arms. 

Please shut up your mouth you damn human being.

“I don’t have a thin nape like you, so it’s no use. What, what's going on? Whisper it to me. I won't say anything to anyone else."

"Really?" 

"Hey, I'm 37 years old. I am old enough to take responsibility for my own words." 

Castro has a talent for making people feel confused. He even wields his age as a weapon.

“It's not a big deal.”

“So what's the big deal?” 

For a while, I even started to hate the obsessive old man in front of me. 

While hesitating about how to handle the situation, the sound of Castro's tongue clicking spreads through the locker room.

The players, who were listening while pretending not to listen, also smirked. 

“He's a moron.” 

“Why? It’s also my fault.” 

"If Lemos grabs David by the collar for that, then it's Lemos' fault. In the field, a mentally unstable person was destined to lose, how can it become your fault, idiot?" 

I know what he means, but those words didn’t really touch my heart. 

Seeing the uncomfortable expression on my face, Castro sighed deeply and continued to talk as if he had made up his mind.

"The world of professionals is cruel. You really don't have any idea of how to defend against dirty people, do you?" 

“……” 

“When I was doing well as a defender in the first division, an incident happened while playing against Vallecano. At that time the opponent's defender who had been pushed out in the fight suddenly grabbed my pants and stretched." 

The old players of the team put a smile on their lips as if they couldn't stop it. Even Manager Pepe and Head coach Rios entered the locker room with a smile on their lips and waited for Castro's story to end.

“I struggled through it and finally scored a goal, and then I ran to the camera, and the cameraman gestured.” 

“What?”

“Well, the front was fine, but the backside had a problem. There was a hole in the place where my underwear was ripped, and my butt made a debut in the national broadcast." 

The players around started laughing, but I alone shuddered with horror. 

I don't even want to imagine such a thing happening to me. 

"I got teased for that for Seven years? Did I hate that defender? Yeah, it was close to hatred. But what can I do? That's football. You do everything you can on the field." 

"……." 

"So, don’t worry about weird things and score more goals. One more goal is required for me to come in as a substitute, so do your work." 

When the story of Castro's unfortunate experience ended, Pepe added some more instructions to the players with a smiley face.

"The opponent may curl up until the second half. Speed and line, remember. Even if you attack, always pay attention to the line, with Inigo as the center, just do what you did till the end of the first half. It's okay to speed up the attack, but you can't give it to your opponent like a sacrifice. It's a relaxed game, but let's not let our guard down." 

When Pepe's speech was over, there was not much time left to rest. As we were about to leave the locker room after drinking water, When players started to stand up Harvey Castellano opened his mouth.

"If Kim scores one more goal, it's a hat trick. Let's get it over with and put an end to the game." 

"That's a good idea." 

"I have to go to school tomorrow, so let's finish the match before I get tired." 

Leaving the laughing players behind, I left the locker room. 

Their nosiness goes beyond the bounds. 

Even if everyone else said it was okay, it felt very offensive to see Pedri, someone of the same age as me, laugh.

20 minutes into the second half. The score goes up to 0-5 before I know it. 

More than half of the home crowd have already left the stadium, leaving more empty seats. 

The extra goals were scored by Pedri and Lemos.

Both goals were scored with a corner kick, which is because of a tall central defender Lemos. 

However, It was quite astonishing that Pedri was able to score a goal with his head. 

Mirandes has completely lost their will to play. 

Their stamina also began to reach the bottom, and naturally, they showed a rough appearance. 

Due to their lack of strength, the number of tackles that came decreased excessively. 

Either their feet were high, or they grabbed the ball when the ball was passed. 

Mirandes also collected cards uniformly, regardless of defender or midfielder. 

"Juan!" 

The ball delivered by Narvaez leads to Inigo's mid-air pass. 

I responded to his movement and dribbled into the deep place of the penalty box. 

The opponent's central defender, who followed late, grabbed my clothes and arms. 

If it was outside the penalty box, he would have earned a foul, but I persevered and moved forward because I was already inside the penalty box. 

"Ah…" 

The ball touched the tip of my toe and headed towards the net. 

Unfortunately, the touch was shallow, and the ball started to lose its speed. 

It would be greedy of me if I were to hope for a goal at that speed.

A nearby defender clears the ball that got bounced by the Mirandes' goalkeeper. 

Fortunately, Harvey Casteyano was the first one to reach the drop point and regained possession of the ball.

The attack continues. 

The ball was passed back to Pedri on the left. 

In order to break down the opponent's strong defense in such a narrow space, Pedri moves from left to center. 

Kirian Rodriguez fails to control the speed of the fast pass from Pedri. 

Since it was a narrow space, it was difficult to kill the power on the ball.

"Kirian! Catch up!" 

Mirandes' counterattack soon followed, but the opponent's dribble was cut off by Lemos with a sliding tackle.

When the ball rolled out of the line and the game came to a halt, a player in a Las Palmas jersey came out of the bench. It was Pecardt. 

“Kim, do whatever you want.” 

“Okay.” 

I thought I'd be replaced, but instead, Manager Pepe called the attacking midfielder Kirian Rodriguez. 

Pecardt came up to the front position which gave me a great amount of freedom. 

From now on I can do whatever I want. 

For now, I thought it would be good to move from the offensive midfielder position.

The 194-centimeter-tall ‘real giant' has an extraordinary presence. 

When Pecardt entered, the opponent's central defender was confused and marked him even though he didn’t posses the ball. 

I can't see it, but he is probably good at pinching, hitting, and making a fuss. 

Every time he comes out to the field, I would always feel grateful. 

Vales, the Las Palmas goalkeeper, kicked the ball. 

Pecardt, who got the ball in the air due to his superior height, delivers the ball to me from over the center line. 

"Inigo! Come forward!" 

I passed the ball to Inigo, who acts as the commander of the offensive operation, and I moved around in the center again, peeping for an opportunity. 

Right full-back Courbelo, who came crossing the central line, receives Inigo's forward pass and dribbles into the side. 

Courbelo, who confirmed that Pecardt had entered the penalty box, then raised the cross high to increase the flight time of the ball.

Mirandes' central defenders succeeded in pinching Pecardte's skin but failed to secure the ball in mid-air. 

They may be tall, but he was too tall for them to reach. 

The ball hit by Pecart's forehead falls down. It landed right in front of the penalty box.

I arrived slightly ahead of the Mirandes midfielder with my right shoulder in contact with him.

The movement must be continued in the forward direction from the line where the ball is not taken away.

I raised my concentration to the limit so that, I didn't lose my balance. 

Suddenly, the touch on my shoulder disappeared, and I felt like my thighs collided with the opponent. 

The opponent was trying to make an unreasonable tackle outside the penalty box once again.

Will I be able to hold on without falling? 

The tackle was rougher and deeper than I thought. 

In an instant, the balance of my lower body collapsed. 

I used my right foot to send the ball to the left according to my instinct, but it was impossible to make a balanced shot. 

After finishing my judgment I quickly decided to take the follow-up action. 

I could see the ball rising from the grass. I tried to make a shot using the collapsing posture and tried to connect it as naturally as possible. 

The ball was kicked by the tip of the left foot and flew across the field of view in an instant. 

Immediately after the shot, I regretted that I was too conscious of the ball rising and aimed at the top. 

The ball that passed the defender, hits the grass in front of the goal and bounces. 

Mirandes' goalkeeper flew with all his might and succeeded in brushing the ball at the end of the glove, but the trajectory of the deflected ball still headed into the net. 

The blurry cheers of more than 20 Las Palmas fans are mixed with the players' voices, buzzing in my ears. 

I can't believe the ball kicked from the tip of my left foot went in. 

I think there's more to opponent's bad luck than my skills today.

(TO BE CONTINUED)