When I was in Korea, I hated fighting. 

The reason why I wanted to be a central striker was that it is the only position where I could do my part with minimal fighting with the opponent. 

And doing what the team expects from me with a clean shot. 

It's really not my cup of tea to force my way through the small space, but I can't help it since I don't have much time. 

Four defenders speed up again closing the narrow space. 

I did not run either fast or slow, but to the point where I could control the ball. 

I can't control the ball properly at my maximum speed. 

I have not yet reached that level. 

I was close enough to the point where I could hear the breathing sound of the opposing defenders clearly. 

Before their legs reached the side of the ball with a puck sound, I hit the ball with the back of my foot and moved my center of gravity to the left foot. 

I avoided them, but the collision of the body made my side ache slightly. 

Still, if I can maintain my dribbling speed even after a collision, then it was not a loss.

I avoided a standing tackle from a player approaching from the right, but the left central defender immediately hit me like an 8-ton truck. 

Before he tried to tackle again, I reduced the speed of the ball by scraping the back of the ball.

The rhythm of the rushing defender got disturbed. 

I slowed down for a moment, and I also looked for the reaction of the right central defender, who started to catch up again. 

‘Can I slip through the gap between central defenders?’ 

I can tell that there is great power in the hand of the right-center guard, because of my experience when he got hold of my right shoulder. 

I can't break through with speed. 

My uniform will be firmly held so that I can't accelerate properly.

"Kim!" 

Srnich, who squeezed in from the left, beckoned me to pass the ball. 

The opponent's full-back, No. 19, was closely behind Srnich. 

I can't give him a pass, but I can use him. 

My gaze toward Srnich created doubts about a pass, and seeing me balancing the upper body for the movement to the right, the left central defender flinched again. 

Alright. 

The left-center defender loses his judgment on these two faints and becomes stiff. 

It was just a brief moment, but there was enough time for me to execute a faint and escape to the left.

When I slipped to the left after passing both the central defenders, I opened a shooting angle from where I could shoot for the first time.

After seeing that I had passed through all the central defenders, the midfielder who followed attempted a bold sliding tackle. 

When I saw the shadow at the bottom of the front, it seemed that even the goalkeeper had jumped out.

With the right shoulder uniform still being pulled, it has become difficult to break through with speed. 

The shooting angle is too narrow, and there is not enough time to take the position for a shot. 

I'm a little nervous, and I decided to leave the possession of the ball in the air for a while. 

I placed the ball between my feet and lifted it sideways with my knees bent. 

I can't believe I'm going to use this technique in a real match. 

The trick I used to pick up the ball for fun during practice made the tackle from the midfielder and the goalkeeper meaningless. 

Not only did the left-center defender struggle to catch up, and also the right-center defender lost the grip of my uniform when the players bumped into each other.

FuenlaBrada's No. 19 wingback came running leaving the mark of Srnich but it was already too late. 

The angle to shoot was narrow, but there was no one on my way to the goal. 

As my foot hits the ball… 

As if raising the speaker's sound button, the sound of the stadium went max. 

The score became 4 – 3. 

The game time was 86 minutes into the second half. 

Now we're leading the game… 

"Uh-huh!" 

"That was a crazy goal !" 

"Tres Goles!" 

“Third goal! Crazy!" 

I'm not crazy, you guys are crazy. 

The players who ran after me forced me to fall and started hitting me hard, and soon fell on me crushing me with their bodies. 

What a bunch of annoying people. 

The game ended 5-3 with a volley from Castro, who received a pass from De La Bella. 

After the defeat, FuenlaBrada's players looked dejected, but soon exchanged uniforms with Las Palmas' players. 

For me, number 5, the opponent's right-center defender came up to me after taking off his uniform. 

"Eres muy bueno para el futbol." 

"Yes, I'm good at soccer." 

The player wearing the captain’s armband smiled bitterly as he held out his jersey, Number 5.

He was the one who grabbed my shoulder and kept pulling my uniform until the last minute. 

He’s FuenlaBrada's captain, also the right central defender, his name was Juanma. 

“How old are you?” 

“16.” 

“Are you the same age as Pedri?” 

“Yes.” 

I whispered in a low voice. 

"You were really good. Still, it won’t be easy from now on." 

Before answering, Manager Pepe, who returned to the bench from the ground, called me. 

After finishing the conversation with a light handshake I started running toward Manager Pepe. 

As soon as I reached him, he said that an interview has been scheduled. 

"You know we're having an interview after the game, right? You are going to make a short speech." 

“I can't speak very well.” 

“I know, I don't want to do it either, but we don't have anyone to interview other than you today. You are the one who did a great job today!" 

"What if I end up saying something strange?" 

"Tell them that you don't understand questions or you can’t speak Spanish. It's okay because the interview is going to be broadcast only on the Canary Islands. It was Las Palmas' fault for not being able to replace an interpreter yet, well, don't feel pressured. Everything will be fine today, hahaha." 

Guided by Manager Pepe who walked like a waddle, we arrived at the Interview hall set up in a simple manner. 

I saw the sponsors' marks and La Liga stickers that were pasted on the transparent plastic wall. 

Before going under the bright lights, Manager Pepe showed me the questionnaire that he received from a broadcaster and told me to ask him anything if I don’t understand.

Manager Pepe drew a line on some questions saying not to answer. 

"Felicidades pola Victoria. Kim." 

"Gracias." 

The interview began with congratulations on Las Palmas' victory. 

It is amazing that the microphone is much bigger than the one in the karaoke room. 

I never had an exclusive interview when I played for the Las Palmas B team, which belonged to the third division, so I was a little nervous because it was my first time. 

It didn't seem real.

"First of all, I can't help but ask this question. You have scored three goals in today's game. How do you feel?' 

“Good. I always feel good when I score a goal." 

“You have scored a lot of goals in today's game, how did you feel mentally when FuenlaBrada scored their third goal?”

“It wasn't hard. I thought that it was a win-or-tie match.”

The middle-aged man with a tinge of gray hair asked a question again with a mischievous smile. 

“Manager Pepe was sent off in the first half. How was it?” 

“He was just like that. Manager Pepe is like a volcano. I always thought it would happen one day.” 

He giggles at my answer.

“Like a volcano? Did he get angry a lot?"

"Well, he doesn't get angry a lot. Manager Pepe is also a good man. He even bought me food. He is also the one who taught me how to make Mojo sauce." 

"Since he taught you how to make a mojo sauce, you think Pepe's a good person."

“That's right.” 

I had a slight doubt about whether I was doing the interview properly. 

The players were giggling while eavesdropping on the interview behind the camera. 

As my eyes turned towards the smiling players, the coach nearby sent a signal to focus on the interview. 

"It's already seven goals in the season. You are scoring goals in every game you play. What do you feel is great about your recent performance?" 

“I think I have been lucky.” 

“It's not like a 16-year-old player can be ignored just because they’re young. Don't get me wrong. You are now the team's top scorer. Despite your unfortunate injury and limited playtime, you were even competing for the league's top scorer. You can’t just say that you are lucky?" 

"Some goals were really due to luck. I think the rest benefited from the league schedule." 

"Oh, Dios Mio. How did the league schedule help you score goals?" 

"It was partially due to my injuries, but also due to avoiding strong teams. The FuenlaBrada team we played today was also in fourth place." 

The smiling announcer's question went easier than I thought. 

FuenlaBrada was fourth, but I think it was a really high-quality team. 

As the league progresses, it will reveal where the real strong team is.

“Do you know which team has the least goals?" 

“I don't know that. Is it Cadiz?" 

“It's Ueska. Remember?" 

"Uh…" 

"The team you played in the opening." 

⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩

After the interview, I walked out of the locker room ignoring the players who were imitating me and my way of speaking. 

I smelled a lot of sweat, and I didn't want to take a shower with the players unless it was an away game. 

Well, I got used to their way of making fun of the interview.

"Kim! Give me your autograph!" 

"Kim!" 

Before I left the stadium, I had to do the fan service for about 20 minutes before I got into the club’s official car and went home. 

The good thing about home games is that you can go home right after the game is over. 

"You did a great job today. It was really a good game." 

"Yes. Thank you for taking me home." 

The car dropped me in a narrow alley in front of the house, I climbed the familiar stairs and inserted the key into the hole. 

The room was dark without lights. 

Dad hasn't seemed to have come back yet. 

Considering the fact that he didn't say he was coming to the stadium, it means he will be coming late after watching TV at Uncle Bari's house. 

While the boiler is preheating, I pour water into the kettle to brew tea.

Belatedly, a feeling of intense excitement and happiness comes up. 

Not Las Palmas B. 

It was a real hat-trick in the second division, with nothing attached to the club's name.

The cheers of the audience and the echoes of the cheering song that was sung for me still lingered in my ears. 

Inside the bathroom. 

Hot water poured from the hose, passing through the hair and falling down the chest and spine, the trembling heart sound faded. 

I finished showering and changed my clothes as I heard the steam leaking from the kitchen kettle. 

I walked out of the bathroom with a towel around my neck and grabbed a cup of warm black tea. 

"You did pretty well. It was good today." 

I came into the room while sipping the tea and sat in a chair as I encouraged myself again and again. 

The room was very quiet, except for the sound of windows shaking in the sea breeze. 

"Let's do it just like today, Kim Yuhan. You did a great job today." 

If I don't keep saying it out loud, I'm afraid today's match at Estadio Gran Canaria will disappear like a dream. 

I murmured to myself in the room a few more times, hoping that the voices and excitement of the spectators I heard in the stadium would not fade until I fell asleep. 

It was lonely.

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