After a tearful goodbye to Eun Ha, Mia, and Su Ah. The last couple of days were focused mostly on recovery before our big flight to the land of the rising sun.
The flight to Japan was a lot less dramatic than I thought it would be. There were no screaming fans or reporters at the airport.
Most of the players slept throughout the flight. The rest talked, played games on their phones, or listened to music. Jong-su kept the entire team's mood up with his constant jokes, much to the chagrin of Dae-hyun, who was sitting next to him. Jun-hwan continued to google himself up, reading news articles and forum posts about him, while I just closed my eyes and rested.
I tried my best to shut out the rest of the world, focusing only on the tournament ahead.
The U-17 World Cup didn't truly hold the same weight as its senior counterpart—for these young stars, the tournament mattered less for national pride and more as a springboard for individual futures. So even losing it wouldn't cause a crisis of reputation.
But a win meant being recognized as one of the premier players in the U-17 circuit. It embellished the resume, and I wanted it.
We came so far and we weren't about to throw away this golden opportunity.
Ahn's face was inscrutable, and the only thing you could've noticed was the constant chewing of a gum that seemed to have been glued onto his gums. He paced up and down the aisle occasionally, a silent sentinel observing his troops.
The wheels kissed Japanese tarmac at 6:47 in the evening.
The plane banked low over Osaka Bay before touching down at Kansai International, and through the oval windows Japan announced itself.
Green hills lined the coastline and industrial cranes loomed over container docks. Osaka itself looked like a city suspended atop the river's current. Distant structures of high-rise condominiums and office buildings gave the whole city a faint air of a glittering resort, all the way across the bay.
It was certainly different from Thailand.
A couple of us made a half-assed cheer as the landing wheels clanked beneath us, but mostly we just sank into our chairs.
Coach Ahn was standing in the aisle before the seatbelt sign clicked off. He was probably more nervous than all of us, though you'd never catch him showing a hint of that anxiety.
"Phones away. Bags ready. We move as a unit through arrivals. If a single one of you stops to take a selfie with the airport, I will confiscate the phone until we fly home." He paused. "Jong-su. That means you specifically."
Jong-su raised both hands in theatrical innocence, while we chuckled at the victimized defender.
As you'd expect from Japanese immigration, our experience was smoother than smooth. The airport was spotless, with every procedure running like clockwork. Not that our own airport, Incheon, wasn't just as smooth, but it was widely recognized as one of the best in the world.
FIFA accreditation meant we bypassed the main immigration queues, routed instead through a side corridor where an official in a pressed jacket and white gloves confirmed our documentation.
Jong-su stared at the white gloves the entire time, visibly wanting to ask about them, visibly being stopped by Dae-hyun's hand on his shoulder.
The bus was already waiting in the lower bay. A commercial charter, with the BlueSport logos prominently displayed on both sides. We filed aboard without delay and found our seats while the staff loaded the gear crates and our stuff. The cabin was air-conditioned and the seats were clean and comfortable.
A coordinator from the Korean Football Association's Japan liaison office, a small, cute woman named Park Ga-young who confirmed the schedule for the ride to our accommodation as they loaded bags into the undercarriage.
"One hour, forty minutes to Kobe. The training facility is fifteen minutes from the hotel on the same road. There's a light meal waiting on arrival. The team doctor will conduct the landing day wellness checks before anyone sleeps. You will be shown the hotel's curfew protocols on arrival."
She said all of this without pausing for acknowledgement. Jong-su gave more than simple acknowledgement as he openly stared at the pretty Noona.
I closed his jaw for him.
...
The highway out of Osaka proper cut east and then curved south along the coast, and through the window Japan kept showing a new face. It was beautiful and seemingly bustling, no matter which region or area we passed through.
I found myself holding on to every sight of that outside view, enjoying every moment. Well, I've been here many times before, but that was back in my world, this one, while relatively the same, still had enough difference to make things more exciting than it needed to be.
From the airport to Kobe Grand Palace was roughly forty minutes of riding time.
The hotel was quite spacious and clean. Though no luxury resort, it was a nice place to rest in the short period we were given.
The KFA had booked two floors.
It was standard tournament accommodation for a U-17 team that wasn't one of the wealthier federations.
We were immediately checked-in by the staff and made our way to the designated rooms, all having numbers. The manager and the representatives gave us a brief meeting, told us the details and when we would depart to the venue before letting us rest in peace.
The wellness checks happened in a conference room converted for the purpose. The team physio, Dr. Kang, had set up a portable screening station with a blood pressure cuff, pulse ox, and a little handheld instrument I didn't recognize. He must've felt my curious look, because he glanced at me.
"That's an ophthalmoscope. Your eyes look clear, kid." He informed me. "Blood pressure is good. So is your oxygen saturation." He didn't sound surprised. Everyone did well. A healthy diet and solid fitness regiment will ensure that all the vital stats would be up and good.
However, at the end of my own examination, I felt him pause.
"You've been grinding your teeth."
Jae-il blinked. "I've been what?"
"Jaw tension. Masseter." He gently prodded the area. "You're carrying stress in here. This is new. How's the sleep been?"
"Fine."
"Jaw tension. Masseter." He gently prodded the area. "You're carrying stress in here. This is new. How's the sleep been?"
"Fine."
Dr. Kang peered at the blood pressure cuff for a second, his mouth set in a line. "Just... let me know if it starts hurting."
I didn't question what he said. I knew what he meant, though. It wasn't any major or life-threatening illness, but I understood that it could become one if I ignored and neglected it, and went on the pitch without the right mindset.
I wouldn't let any potential physical problems stop me.
"Got it." I agreed with an easy shrug, a forced smile to calm down Dr. Kang's concern.
Mental well-being was so easily overlooked in favor of physiological state, so the importance of psychological state and physical state's interaction would not be underestimated.
As everyone was busy with their business, I retreated to my own hotel room for a shower and some more rest.
The tournament itself would formally begin in four days.
Those four days were not downtime. No training staff worth their registration cards would permit four days of free time forty-eight hours before a group stage opener. But neither would any coach subject his squad to full-throttle sessions that might compromise readiness or health.
So our training sessions were heavily managed, controlled, and shortened in content. Recovery, strategy sessions, and naps were prioritized.
Outside of training and off the pitch, Ahn pushed us to eat healthy and beware of potential dangers. The same as his lectures on pre-game care: don't try new restaurant foods, wash fruits and vegetables.
One night before the tournament began, we got permission to eat sushi at an Izakaya a kilometer down the road.
"I can't believe we're actually here."
Leave it to Jong-su to lose himself in sentimentality. Not that he wasn't right, but his tone and expression looked a bit over the top and dramatic.
The mood among our young group of future professional soccer stars was one of exhilaration. No one could get through these few days without thinking "this was our opportunity for global recognition".
I took a sip of water as I stared at my teammates. I was inwardly concerned for the future of this world cup, the outcome. For all my confidence, South Korea would come face to face with the true powers of this age. The AFC was easy, with me and Jun-hwan trampling the opponents as much as we wanted.
With all respect for Jong-su, Sung-tae and all the members of this team I've grown fond of.
They were amazing people.
But as a whole, when the competition would get tougher, their skill would just not be enough.
Still, we'd play the best we could, and going on the tournament with dampened spirits was a surefire recipe for a loss.
I didn't let those thoughts dampen my enjoyment.
I stood up, clinked a spoon against the glass, like how a newly-wed couple's best friend would do when he wanted to give a speech. I instantly received some amused looks, but shrugged it off with a confident smile.
"Speech! Speech! Speech!"
"Speech from the team's ace!"
"The Heartbreaker!"
"Alright, alright." I chuckled, shaking my head at the last nickname. It seems the media back home had really run with that one. Coach Ahn gave me an encouraging nod. "You know... this is a dream for all of us. To be here, to have this chance. We've earned it. We worked our asses off for this." I paused for a moment, looking at each of them. "A lot of people back home are counting on us. But forget about them for a second. This is for us. For the kid who started kicking a ball in the park, for the one who dreamed of wearing this jersey. For the one who... maybe... wasn't good enough. This is for him, too."
The mood in the room shifted slightly. My words, intended to be motivational, had struck a deeper chord.
Jun-hwan, who had been quietly observing from the corner, raised his glass. "To the kid who wasn't good enough. May he prove everyone wrong."
A chorus of "To the kid who wasn't good enough!" echoed through the room. I watched as they all drank, a sense of unity washing over us.
"Indeed, Jun-hwan... maybe we all prove them wrong. I'll give every drop of sweat and blood on this pitch, and I know all of you will too. Regardless of the result. Let's make it count. So let's enjoy this meal, let's enjoy Japan, and then... let's go and make some noise."