[Spain, Marching On Exactly as Everyone Expected]
[The Invincible Armada, Spain, is producing the best results at Euro 2012. Starting with their opening Group C match against the Czech Republic, they then defeated Portugal and Italy in succession...]
Spain was raising the level of its play with each passing day.
Four straight wins.
At least this was enough to ease some of the regret from missing out on a runner-up finish at the last World Cup, but more than anything, the best part was that they had no fear of defeat.
Quite literally, the Invincible Armada.
Just as Ho-young had said in an earlier interview, they truly felt like they could not lose a match.
[Sergio Ramos: "We have finally become complete."]
[Cesc Fàbregas: "I realized what it means to be the best team."]
[Xavi Hernández: "It cannot get any more perfect than this. This is the peak of my football career."]
[Del Bosque: "The tournament is not over yet. We will not become complacent until the very end."]
Spain had completely become one team, with perfect chemistry.
Because of that, Spain's training ground was filled with laughter all day long.
"Hahaha!"
"Just watching us train makes me feel like we can win the title."
"Heh. He really is unbelievable. Now that I've spent time with him, I'm starting to wonder if those rumors about him being an alien are actually true."
The players watching Ho-young's unusual training methods all reacted in similar ways.
It was on a completely different level from what ordinary footballers usually did in training.
"Seriously, what kind of guy does that on a training pitch? He's handling five balls at once. And his dribbling is still precise."
"For real... He's even controlling them without looking at the ball."
"Is he even human?"
"But thank God he's on our side... Thank God, really..."
Cesc Fàbregas let out a sigh of relief.
Once someone who had viewed Ho-young's call-up to the national team negatively, he had now come to value his presence deeply.
The same was true for the other Barcelona players, like Piqué and Busquets.
Considering the size of the factions that had existed within the squad, it had all been resolved in a very short time.
That was why the players sometimes found the feeling between them a little strange.
"Sometimes it feels surreal. I wonder if this is really our team."
"I've felt that for a while. Real Madrid with Ho-young and Real Madrid without Ho-young are on completely different levels. I felt it even more clearly after he left for City."
Ramos in particular, who had a deep affection for Ho-young, could hardly believe this reality.
When Ho-young had left for Real Madrid, he thought they would never play on the same team again, yet now they were reunited and enjoying the best moment possible together.
"He used to be so cute, and now I don't even know when he got this big. Of course, he was already a monster when he first joined Madrid, but still... David, don't you feel anything?"
"Same here. Sometimes, as a footballer, I feel a sense of inadequacy. But through him, I end up realizing and learning even more. I think all the City players would agree."
"Mm, I get what you mean. Even I, as a defender, was hugely motivated by him."
Sergio Ramos agreed completely with David Silva.
That already applied inside the Spanish national team as well.
Separate from the festive atmosphere, there was also a subtle and strange undercurrent running through the squad.
"Busquets, it's funny, isn't it? We used to lose trophy after trophy because of Young, and now we're looking at winning the Euros because of him."
"Well, to be honest, I think we could still win it without him... but it's true that having him makes things a lot easier."
Xabi Alonso and Sergio Busquets.
And Real Madrid and Barcelona.
The two groups that had missed out on the Champions League trophy because of Ho-young's Manchester City were now, ironically, receiving Ho-young's help.
The same was true for Xavi and Iniesta.
"Andrés, sometimes I used to envy you, but not anymore. Now I can pass to Young too."
"Hahaha. I can do that every day when I go back to City..."
"...You've gotten funnier."
"Hahaha!"
Just like that, talk about Ho-young kept flowing nonstop all across the training ground.
At times, he became an object of admiration. At other times, a subject of study. Either way, he became a role model for every player.
A presence who illuminated not only Spain's present but also its future.
That was exactly why Ho-young was receiving so much attention.
[
To Italy, Ho-young was a terrible memory and an old nemesis.
In some ways, it could even be called a curse, because from his youth national team days until now, every tournament in which they had faced him had ended very badly for them.
This time was no different.
After many twists and turns, they had reached the semi-finals, only to run into Ho-young before even making it to the final.
As a result, most Italians had already given up and accepted defeat.
The experts felt the same way.
[100 out of 100 bookmakers predict a Spain victory]
Italy, who had already lost to Spain in the third Group C match, had no real hope.
There was only one possible method, however slim the chance.
"The only answer is to force Ho-young off the pitch."
Those were the words of Italy manager Giovanni Trapattoni before kickoff, inside the Italian dressing room.
He was a legendary manager who had won every major UEFA competition while in charge of several big clubs such as Juventus, Inter, Bayern Munich, and AC Milan.
Even he thought it sounded outrageous the moment he said it, but in truth, it was also the plan that made the most sense.
To grab even the smallest chance, they had no choice but to go to the extreme.
"Coach, but so many teams have already tried that. And the results were all terrible."
Italy captain Gianluigi Buffon voiced his opposition.
But Trapattoni did not back down.
"I'm a manager who knows only one thing, winning. If you want the same thing I do, then you'd do well to follow my words. Ten out of ten people will swear Spain will win, but at least I won't. Miracles are something we create ourselves."
"I agree. But it's impossible. The idea of putting Ho-young out through injury is unthinkable."
When Chiellini objected strongly, Gattuso also spoke up and joined in.
"Trapattoni, I guarantee it, that path will only destroy us. If we try something like that, we'll only suffer more."
"How can you be so sure without even trying?"
"We've tried plenty, haven't we? You're the one who hasn't. Getting into a physical battle with Ho-young is practically suicide. After going at him once, it feels like your bones are rotting."
"If you're afraid of something like that, then you should retire. And this is an order from the manager. Barzagli, De Rossi. You understand, don't you?"
"..."
"This is for the team. There is no reason to hesitate."
"...Understood."
"Good. Montolivo, you stay on the bench as planned. And Balotelli and Cassano, I don't need to spell it out for you two, do I?"
"Heh heh, old man. You're always asking the obvious. Who do you think Cassano is?"
"Ah, come on. Do you really need to say it out loud? I'll smash him to bits. The greatest footballer in history? To hell with that. I'm the greatest madman in history."
Trapattoni refused to bend to the end and pushed ahead with his plan.
Because he believed they had a chance if they could stop Ho-young somehow.
And so, the war began.
[Yes, we are here at Donbass Arena in Donetsk, Ukraine. The stadium is packed with around 48,000 spectators. As expected of a semi-final, the atmosphere is absolutely electric.]
Even before kickoff, the supporters of both teams were already locked in a fierce battle of chants.
Since these were two nations that treated football as a matter of life and death, neither side was willing to yield an inch.
And that intensity carried straight onto the pitch.
[It's a fierce contest right from the opening stages. Neither side is giving anything away.]
Italy lined up in a 4-1-3-2 formation, with Marchisio, De Rossi, and Gattuso operating in midfield, making sure that at least in the center of the pitch they would not be overpowered by Spain.
On top of that, Andrea Pirlo was deployed in the deep midfield role as the regista, taking charge of orchestrating the overall shape of the team's play.
[Their back line is formidable too. They may not be what they once were, but they are not called masters of catenaccio for nothing. They still have one of the best defensive lines in the world.]
With Chiellini, Barzagli, Bonucci, and Abate all starting together, Italy looked as solid as ever.
That did not mean their attack was weak either.
Mario Balotelli, a troublemaker but impossible to hate for his ability.
And Antonio Cassano, a man with an unusual mind but talent said to be almost demonic, formed a two-man strike partnership that made for a terrifying combination.
[This could end up being a slightly dangerous match. Those two are not exactly ordinary upstairs, are they? People call them lunatics.]
The two most standout strange personalities in football.
Cassano had even once said, "When I look at Balotelli, I see my younger self," which showed just how similar their mindsets were.
[And it's not just them. The other players are the same. Their eyes are full of venom.]
[Yes, all the Italian players seem to be showing the same look.]
Sure enough, concentrated pressure on Ho-young began right from the opening minutes.
It was obvious to anyone watching that their intention was to take Ho-young out of the game.
[Back at the Beijing Olympics, didn't coach Kashiragi order Montolivo to injure Ho-young? It caused a huge controversy.]
[That's right. But still, I'm not so sure. A lot of teams have tried this kind of thing before, and most of them failed. And Ho-young has improved to the point where he can't even be compared to back then. I have my doubts about whether this strategy can succeed.]
[Still, the difference between Italy and the other teams is that Italian players know very well how to take someone out.]
[That is true. Their players are very good at doing that sort of thing subtly. If they are really set on it, Ho-young will have to be careful.]
It was the same kind of situation as before.
Daniele De Rossi, known as the commander of Italy's midfield, had shown tremendous defensive ability throughout the tournament, and today was no different.
Along with him, Andrea Barzagli and Marchisio threw themselves into rough defending and pressed Ho-young relentlessly.
Whenever a physical duel broke out, they looked as if they were ready to kill him on the spot.
And Ho-young felt that more clearly than anyone.
'So they've decided to take me out.'
In the past, he would have avoided physical clashes as much as possible and prevented trouble before it happened, but now the situation was different.
'Back then I avoided it, but not now.'
Ho-young decided not to avoid it anymore.
No, there was no need to.
An all-out confrontation.
He intended to make it absolutely clear this time, so that no one would ever dare to make such a reckless challenge again.
The real war began from that moment.
(To be continued.)