As always, the opening match of the season was important.
And this season, it was especially important.
That was why Scolari had fallen into deep thought before the season began.
There were sixteen matches scheduled before Ho-young left for Manchester City.
To achieve Real Madrid's historic fifth consecutive league title, they needed to accumulate as many points as possible during that period.
Therefore the first step had to be taken properly, and to do that the squad's atmosphere had to be positive even before the season began.
However, several bad things happened in July, shaking the team.
Raúl and Guti, the spiritual pillars of the team, had left. Arjen Robben, the reliable crack, also transferred to Bayern Munich.
Their absence was larger than expected.
No one said it out loud, but players and staff who had spent many years with them clearly struggled.
Scolari spent a long time wondering what to do.
He tried to restore discipline and focus the players on training, but that alone could not bring back the previous atmosphere.
Then August arrived.
A turning point appeared that solved all of those concerns.
The Supercopa de España.
After winning the title, the atmosphere of the team completely changed.
Pepe, Albiol, Mertesacker, Miguel Torres, Xabi Alonso, and Zhirkov created a serious environment.
Ramos, Higuaín, Marcelo, Diarra, and Gago brightened the mood.
Sometimes Casillas took control of the team with strong charisma.
On top of that, Ho-young and Ronaldo devoted themselves to training, creating a sense of competition among the players.
Thanks to that, promising players such as Gourcuff, Sakho, Douglas, Marcos Alonso, Tebar, and Mateos were able to develop rapidly in that environment.
Scolari's worries disappeared.
Everything was perfect.
He had never felt such overflowing confidence before an opening match.
That was why he attempted a bold change in tactics for today's game.
The key words of the tactic were control, multiple attacking routes, and finishing.
In short, the core was scoring.
Scolari presented this tactic entirely for the sake of the team.
Based on a strong performance in the opening match, he intended to raise the team's morale to its peak until Ho-young departed.
He did not want a narrow 1-0 victory.
At least 3-0.
That was Scolari's hope.
Before the match, during an interview held in the underground area of La Rosaleda Stadium, he displayed tremendous confidence.
"There have been some unpleasant rumors recently, but Real Madrid will prove today that we have not been shaken."
The reporters looked surprised at his unusual confidence.
Soon the lineup was announced.
This time it was the spectators who were shocked.
"What is this?"
"Who exactly is the striker?"
More than half of the thirty thousand spectators filling the stadium were saying that.
Because Ho-young, Gourcuff, Ronaldo, and Zhirkov were all included in Real Madrid's starting lineup.
For Málaga, it felt like they had already been hit before the match even started.
They could barely hope to win even if Real Madrid played drunk and smoking cigarettes. Now they had also twisted their tactics.
There was no answer.
Jesualdo Ferreira, who had been giving a speech in the locker room, showed a troubled expression.
The opening match had already turned into an emergency.
"What do we do now?"
The team captain and centre-back Weligton asked.
But no answer came.
Ferreira stroked his long beard and sank into thought. Even he did not know what to say.
Their opponent was Real Madrid, a team that crushed Barcelona as if it were routine.
And they had prepared special tactics for this match while displaying incredible confidence.
The result seemed obvious.
After a brief silence, Ferreira finally spoke.
"Straighten your shoulders, you bastards. If you go out there with that attitude, you will accomplish nothing. The only thing you need to think right now is that you can win. Believe it. Go out there proudly and repay the thirty thousand fans in the stands."
Ferreira grabbed a ball lying in the corner of the locker room.
Then he spoke solemnly.
"The ball is round."
A famous quote every manager of a weaker team must know.
Those words from Sepp Herberger, the father of German football, echoed once again in Málaga's locker room.
Soon the stadium atmosphere heated up.
The match began at 9 PM.
Whistle.
[Málaga CF's Nabil Baha takes the kickoff. Salomón Rondón immediately passes back.]
[Yes, Málaga has lined up in a 4-5-1 formation. From the start they are taking a very defensive approach. Since they cannot realistically beat their opponent, they appear determined to minimize conceding goals by defending openly. For mid-table and lower teams, controlling conceded goals is very important.]
Málaga spread their formation wide while passing the ball, attempting to distract the opponent.
Second minute of the first half.
Real Madrid had not made any major movement yet.
[It is still a probing phase. However, after some time Real Madrid will likely begin pressing. For Málaga, launching a surprise attack before that might not be a bad idea.]
[Exactly. A quick cross from either flank combined with Rondón's heading ability could create a good chance.]
Salomón Rondón.
Only twenty years old.
Last season he scored sixteen goals in the second division and announced his name to the football world.
After transferring to Málaga, he made his first appearance in La Liga this season.
Standing at 190 centimeters tall, his heading ability was excellent. Recently he had become one of Venezuela's most promising young players.
[Meanwhile Real Madrid has not shown much even after three minutes. I am not sure why Ho-young has been placed on the right wing.]
On the left was Yuri Zhirkov.
In the center was Yoann Gourcuff.
On the right stood Ho-young, with the three supporting Ronaldo as the striker.
[Honestly, despite Scolari's confident words before the match, it does not look very threatening so far.]
[Perhaps placing Ho-young in the center to lead the press would have been better. He is much better at pressing than Gourcuff or Ronaldo.]
All reasonable points.
Then in the fourth minute of the first half.
As the players' activity gradually increased, a change appeared in Real Madrid's formation.
[Ah, Ho-young is moving to the front line. Ronaldo drops to the right wing. They have switched positions.]
[Exactly. This is it. Ronaldo will take on the playmaking role while Ho-young focuses on scoring. We might see some exciting attacking play.]
[In that case, a scoring battle between Ho-young and Rondón could also be interesting.]
[Hmm… yes.]
The commentators were forcing a rivalry narrative to add excitement.
However surprisingly, Málaga was actually managing the match well.
Perhaps the locker room talk had worked.
Ferreira, watching nervously, bit his lower lip.
'Yes. Even if there is a difference in strength, football is not a sport where the better team always wins.'
Football is a game played by twenty two people using their bodies.
No one can predict where the ball will roll.
Well.
Thump!
Sometimes there are players who transcend that rule.
[Ho-young intercepts it!]
Ho-young was a prime example.
He knew exactly where the pass from thirty year old veteran defensive midfielder Juanito would go.
If someone asked how, there was no explanation.
It was simply talent.
As soon as the probing phase ended, Ho-young rushed forward and began pressing the front line.
Then he waited like a hidden hyena and intercepted Juanito's pass.
That led to the current situation.
The next step was obvious.
Bang!
Sixth minute of the first half.
After intercepting the ball near the halfway line, Ho-young surged forward into the attacking zone.
Apono tried to block his path blatantly, attempting to draw a foul.
Ho-young merely scoffed and flicked the ball upward with his heel.
Rainbow Flick.
The ball sailed over Apono's head as Ho-young moved forward.
When he reached the second line, the culprit of the mistake, Juanito, stood with his legs spread wide and his weight low.
It looked as if he was inviting the ball through his legs.
Then the psychological battle began.
Ho-young's eyebrow rose slightly, and his ankle bent sharply.
It looked like he was about to nutmeg him.
Juanito immediately closed his legs.
At that moment.
"…?!"
[Flip-flap!]
[Ohhh…]
The commentators gasped.
There was nothing else to say.
It was a breathtaking scene.
Everything happened in an instant.
Ho-young twisted his ankle sharply, shifting the ball from the outside to the inside.
The movement was like a spring snapping out and returning.
[No explanation needed. Just stand up and watch.]
[Everyone get ready to shout. The moment has arrived. Ho-young is running!]
After fooling Juanito, Ho-young pushed the ball forward, drawing the attention of the defenders.
Centre-backs Iván González and Weligton instinctively moved toward him.
They closed in from both sides.
[Ho-young! He must watch his back!]
Bang!
While attempting a skill against Weligton, Ho-young collided with González who had rushed in from behind.
At the same time Weligton launched a tackle.
"Ugh!"
"Grab him!"
But in that instant Ho-young reacted with razor sharp precision.
Slide.
He shifted his weight backward to endure the physical contact, moving his feet freely to pull the ball away from González's tackle.
It was not just his feet moving.
His ankles and toes manipulated the ball delicately, as if it were part of his body.
The result.
Tap, touch, spin!
"Huh."
"What the…?"
Three defenders tangled together.
Yet Ho-young slipped through their pressure with dazzling and clean footwork, as if unraveling a knot.
[Oh my God.]
[I can't believe it! He looks like an octopus with ten legs!]
[Exactly! Wait… don't octopuses have twelve legs?]
[Ah, I must be so shocked that I misspoke!]
No one realized that an octopus actually had eight legs.
That was how astonishing the scene was.
Like a massive traffic jam suddenly clearing, huge spaces appeared everywhere.
Zhirkov and Ronaldo had already penetrated deeply along the flanks.
Ho-young did not waste the opportunity.
"Here!"
Bang!
Inside the penalty box on the right side, Ho-young's killer pass shot forward.
Ronaldo sprinted and collected the ball.
Seeing goalkeeper Rubén Martínez rush out, he quickly changed direction.
Ronaldo's return pass came immediately.
Right to Ho-young's feet.
Net!
[Gooooal!]
[Ho-young scores the opener! He calmly slots it into the empty net!]
"Ho!"
"Siuuu!"
The two men celebrated with the same pose.
It was an amusing sight.
But they ended the celebration quickly and returned to the goal to grab the ball.
"Let's make this the greatest opening match in La Liga history."
"It's only the seventh minute. We can still score six more."
"I'll score four, you score three."
"I'll score four, you score three."
"No!"
"Then let's both score four and win 8-0!"
"Siuuu!"
"Ho!"
The two shouted with burning determination.
The result appeared just three minutes later in the tenth minute.
Frightened by the situation, Málaga dropped their defensive line deep.
This time Real Madrid's second line attacked relentlessly.
Ronaldo cut inside from the flank.
Gourcuff distributed through balls through the center.
Zhirkov attempted crosses.
Málaga's defense became complete chaos.
"Push the line higher!"
"We have to move forward and stop them!"
When they raised the line again and attempted pressing, Real Madrid stepped back slightly and launched attacks from deeper positions.
Just below the halfway line.
Fernando Gago and Xabi Alonso exchanged passes, spreading the space.
Suddenly a long pass flew into the sky.
A piercing long pass from Xabi Alonso.
[One pass straight into the space behind!]
[Ho-young is breaking through!]
Brilliant link-up play.
Alonso pretended to build from the back, then delivered a killer pass the moment an opportunity appeared.
Ho-young lingered beside the defenders deliberately, then burst into the open space, breaking the offside trap.
[The ball is dropping near the penalty area!]
[Ho-young is running! No one can catch him! He's completely through!]
[First touch!]
Tap.
Ho-young gently controlled Alonso's aerial pass with the top of his foot.
Right in front of goal.
Like playing a harp with his fingers, he kept the ball bouncing in the air, confusing the goalkeeper.
Then suddenly.
Tap.
"W-wait!"
Ho-young stretched his foot forward.
The ball floated upward, arching over Martínez in a perfect arc.
The shot had just the right amount of power.
After passing over the goalkeeper, it settled quietly into the net as if being embraced.
Silence fell across the stadium like cold water had been poured over it.
And then.
Calmly.
Ho-young picked up the ball and walked back to the halfway line.
(To be continued.)