Weird Defender Joo Ji-Tae

173 – Center-back, More Than That

173

Life is a series of choices.

So is football. It’s always a series of choices. Whether to dribble or pass, move left or right, attack or defend.

To become an exceptional player, quick judgment is essential. It’s about making the right choice quickly.

Of course, Joo Ji-tae also possessed exceptional quick judgment.

In the brief moment when Madu Murcia fell to the ground, clutching his thigh, and Esteban Valde passed him and caught the ball, Joo Ji-tae assessed his situation.

An opponent had the ball in their own territory. Hector Port was behind him, but as a goalkeeper, he couldn’t be counted on to help.

Were there any other teammates? No. The fullbacks and midfielders were slowly returning. But it was too late.

On the other hand, the opponent had Esteban Valde with the ball and Fernando Alvarez behind him.

If he could delay them for 3-4 seconds… he could somehow manage to set up a defense. But the opponent was also an exceptional player, with quick judgment and fast movements.

Joo Ji-tae made his decision in an instant.

“I have to stop them alone.”

Theoretically, a single defender cannot stop two attackers.

As the saying goes, “The ball is faster than the player,” so if you just pass the ball to a free player, it’s easy. If you try to stop them alone, you’ll just end up chasing after them like a fool.

But that didn’t mean he should stand idly by in the middle. That would be the worst.

It would be better to stick to one player, and the goalkeeper could focus on the remaining player. But if you let both players go, the goalkeeper would have to prepare for both.

If you can’t make the best choice, you should at least avoid the worst.

As Esteban Valde approached, dribbling the ball, Joo Ji-tae’s eyes lit up. Unconsciously, he sensed the opponent’s breathing, tempo, and timing—

“Now!”

At the optimal moment, Joo Ji-tae’s stud struck the ground.

With astonishing speed, Joo Ji-tae reached his top speed in an instant, and Esteban Valde’s eyes widened in surprise.

Just as he was about to pass the ball to Fernando Alvarez, who was open— Joo Ji-tae started sprinting at the exact moment Esteban Valde was about to kick the ball with the inside of his foot.

The head that gives orders and the feet that dribble are at odds, and Esteban Valde’s body stumbles.

However, Esteban Valde is also a regular player for Real Madrid. After a brief moment of hesitation, he quickly regains his balance and sends a high-flying lob pass.

A pass that makes Joo Ji-tae, who is sprinting at full speed, look like a fool—

“What—?!”

It was already after Joo Ji-tae had anticipated his opponent’s intentions and jumped into the air.

It was a play that was one beat faster than Esteban Valde’s foot kicking the ball, thanks to Joo Ji-tae’s superhuman prediction.

The ball floats in the air, slow and lazy.

“…Short.”

Even with his incredible elasticity, Joo Ji-tae can’t fly in the air. He quickly assesses the situation and flips his body in mid-air.

His back faces the ground, and his legs cross.

And—

Thud!

The ball that landed precisely on his foot rolls backwards on the ground.

Joo Ji-tae’s vision follows the ball’s trajectory until the very end, and he feels a shock that makes his breath catch and his head spin.

Just as he’s about to catch his breath, Miguel Gomez appears, sprinting towards him.

Luckily, he’s got the second ball.

Just as he’s about to relax, a lightning-fast realization strikes Joo Ji-tae’s brain.

“Uh-huh.”

His tired body wants to rest, but he ignores it and springs up, his hands grasping the ground like a sprinter getting ready to start.

“What, what…?”

Esteban Valde’s eyes bug out in amazement, but Joo Ji-tae quickly passes him and starts sprinting towards the goal.

The Barcelona players, who are hastily retreating to their defensive zone, and the Real Madrid players, who are pouring in for a counterattack, get tangled up in the middle of the field.

Joo Ji-tae’s gaze chases after Miguel Gomez, and after catching the ball, he surveys his surroundings to see Miguel Gomez’s gaze fixed on him.

Their gazes meet.

“Screen!!”

Miguel Gomez’s shout prompts the Real Madrid players to block the Barcelona players’ path with their bodies.

The Barcelona players, who are desperately trying to keep up with Joo Ji-tae, get entangled with the Real Madrid players.

In just 2-3 seconds, Joo Ji-tae crosses the halfway line, and Miguel Gomez’s pass comes flying towards him.

The Barcelona players try to block it with their bodies, but Joo Ji-tae dodges them with his quick footwork and continues to sprint towards the goal.

Carlos Sanchez and Federico Munoz, who are chasing after him, try to shoulder him out of the way, but—

“What…?”

“Ah…?”

Joo Ji-tae slightly lowers his body and traps the ball with his back, then kicks it up again and dodges between the two players.

The perfectly timed tackle that Joo Ji-tae uses to get rid of the ball, which has fallen in front of him, is like a pre-arranged play.

Finally, he faces Real Madrid’s last line of defense, Bernat Schuster.

The center-back, who had just cleared the ball, turns around to face the ball again.

It’s frustrating that this good opportunity has slipped away, and now he’s in a crisis situation.

Even though Bernat Schuster saw Joo Ji-tae trap the ball, he doesn’t chase after him. He remembers the painful experiences of the past, when he was caught off guard by Joo Ji-tae’s speed.

“This is it. Just block the shot… just block the shot.”

Bernat Schuster, known for his aggressive defense, has a surprisingly timid thought, and he focuses his attention on Joo Ji-tae.

Please don’t come, please don’t come, please don’t come.

But Joo Ji-tae approaches him in an instant, his devilish figure making Bernat Schuster want to back away.

“Bernat! Block it!! What are you doing?!”

Behind him, the goalkeeper, Jorge Montebert, shouted as he bit his teeth and stretched out his leg.

However, his leg swung futilely in the air once again.

“This is how you waste time!!”

At the same moment, a loud whistle blew in front of him.

As he quickly turned his head, he saw the goalkeeper, Jorge Montebert, kneeling on the ground with a dejected expression.

“…Ah.”

Bernard Schuster’s strength left his body, and he realized he had stumbled in the next instant.

The ball… was spinning in the goal net.

Forty minutes into the second half.

The first goal in the Champions League final had finally been scored.

1:0.

Barcelona had taken the lead.

* * *

Immediately after Barcelona’s opening goal, both teams hastily substituted their players.

Barcelona replaced Madu Murcia, who was clutching his thigh and sending a signal for substitution, with a defensive player.

Madu Murcia, now 36 years old, couldn’t hide his apologetic expression as he limped away.

“I’m sorry. I almost caused a big problem.”

“Thanks to you, we scored a goal that will be remembered forever in the Champions League final. You’re old now, so don’t overexert yourself.”

“Yeah, thank you.”

Madu Murcia, who had been hesitant, extended his hand to Juzaitai.

“Maybe this is the last game we’ll play together.”

“There’s next season, what are you talking about? Just take care of your body.”

Despite Juzaitai’s consolation, Madu Murcia shook his head.

“No. I should quit now. At 36, I’ve had a long career. I’ve managed my body well, and the team has also done its best to allocate my physical strength… but in the end, it’s come to this. Next year will be even harder. It’s time to go.”

Juzaitai, who knew the feeling of retiring due to injuries and aging, smiled wistfully and grasped Madu Murcia’s thick, black hands.

“Do you remember? You were a center-back who didn’t act like a center-back, and at first, I didn’t like you.”

“I didn’t know that. So, do you still not like me?”

“No, not at all.”

Madu Murcia smiled faintly.

“I’ve heard people call me the best in the world, and I’ve been proud of being the best center-back. But seeing you, I realized how arrogant I was. If I were a bit younger… if I had met you a bit earlier, I could have taken on new challenges. But I’m too old now. I’m already 36.”

“You’re old. Zlatan played until he was over 40, and Ramos played until he was almost 40 too.”

“Those guys are abnormal. That’s why they couldn’t play for a championship contender team in their later years. I don’t want that.”

Madu Murcia paused for a moment before continuing,

“It was an honor to play with you, even for a short time. From now on, my name will be remembered as one of the center-backs who played with Juzaitai. As a center-back who breathed with the greatest players… well, that’s not bad either.”

He grasped Juzaitai’s hand tightly and said,

“So, make sure to win. Defend this one goal well in the remaining time. Got it?”

“Got it.”

As Madu Murcia, who was limping, was consoled by the Barcelona players, the atmosphere was warm, and they applauded him. On the other hand, the Real Madrid bench was like a funeral.

“Hurry up! Hurry up and change! Hey, referee! What are you doing, wasting time over there!!”

The middle-aged referee, who was on the verge of tears, was caught up in the emotional atmosphere, and after nodding in agreement, he hurriedly gestured to speed up the game.

The intense atmosphere of substitutions.

Real Madrid’s coach, Raul Harke, used up all his remaining substitution cards at once. Except for the one player substituted in the second half, Real Madrid brought in four new players and launched a fierce attack until the added six minutes were up.

As the added time reached exactly six minutes, the Barcelona coaches, who had been anxiously pacing along the touchline, began to protest vehemently. The intensity of Real Madrid’s attack was no joke.

“Referee! Hey, hey referee!! Time’s up! Time’s over!!”

The main referee checked the time and blew his whistle, and Real Madrid’s substitute winger, Abdullah Musham, who had been brought in, attempted a characteristic dribble but was brought down.

Foul declared.

The free kick opportunity, earned in a good position, caused chaos on both benches.

Real Madrid brought up their goalkeeper and gambled everything on their last chance, and Fernando Alvarez, who couldn’t hide his tense expression, finally took the last free kick.

It was a direct shot at the goal.

A low, accurate shot that aimed for the gap in the penalty box, where everyone was crowded and chaotic.

The shot, which was really well taken and headed straight for the corner of the goal, was—

[It’s Joo Jitae!! It’s Joo Jitae again!!]

[How much more can this player do!!]

was blocked by Joo Jitae, who seemed to be expecting it, and the ball rolled out of the touchline.

And finally, the referee’s whistle blew.

1:0.

Barcelona won.