Boca Juniors continued their unbeaten run, advancing through the Round of 16 of the Copa Sudamericana, the second-tier tournament in South America held from September to December.
[12 matches, 12 victories! Who can stop Boca Juniors' momentum?]
[Brazilian teams have dominated South American club championships for 5 years. Can Argentina reclaim the crown?]
Boca Juniors, last year's 4th place finishers, were on a remarkable rise. The popular Argentine TV program Football Argentina, with a 17% viewership rating, focused on this success. The show featured Argentine football legends and celebrities debating the team's transformation.
"Up next, Boca Juniors, who are leading the league with a perfect 12-game streak."
The Boca Juniors crest appeared on the screen.
"Last season, they finished 4th. There's been a noticeable change this year."
"What change?"
"The attacking lineup."
"You mean the signing of Real Madrid legend Ángel Molia?"
Ángel Molia's creative playmaking and passing ability had transformed Boca Juniors, alongside Javier Casero, one of the league's top midfielders.
"That's part of it, but there's another—Boca's Little Prince, isn't there?"
While Ángel Molia was expected to perform from the start, the real turning point was the debut of youth academy player Yoo Ji-woo.
"Yoo Ji-woo?"
"Yes."
"But Yoo is just a 16-year-old kid. I don't see how one player can make such a difference."
Skepticism lingered, particularly toward the young Asian player. Some simply refused to acknowledge an Asian's success in the sport.
"Then, Mr. Berry, what was Boca Juniors' biggest problem last season?"
"The aging forward line, obviously. Their stamina declined by the second half, so they signed Ángel to solve that."
"That's correct. The biggest issue caused by the aging forwards was..."
The screen cut to footage of Yoo Ji-woo dribbling the ball.
"Mobility."
His explosive acceleration stunned the panel as the league's fastest defender, Bruno Pereira, couldn't keep up.
"Ángel and Javier are quick, but I'd single out this player as the reason for Boca's rise."
Others nodded in agreement.
"He's fast. If Bruno, who's in the Best XI, can't keep up... That's incredible."
"Yes. According to sources, Yoo clocked a top speed of 34 km/h."
Gasps filled the room.
"And aside from speed, there's one more thing."
Beep.
"Technique."
Another clip played, showing Yoo Ji-woo dribbling past four defenders and scoring a goal. The room fell silent, captivated.
Finally, someone whispered, "His play resembles Maradona's, doesn't it?"
---
"Ricardo?"
"Our Prince has arrived!"
I ran into Ricardo Mesa and his wife at my father's restaurant while grabbing dinner.
"…Stop calling me that."
"Why? Even the kids on the street call you Boca's Little Prince!"
"Ugh…"
"What brings you here?"
"This is my dad's restaurant."
"Oh, right."
Sitting at the table next to them, I chatted with Ricardo until my father came out of the kitchen.
"You're here?"
"Yeah."
"I met Ricardo earlier! Got his autograph and a photo too!"
"You didn't say anything weird, did you?"
"Nothing strange! Just that you left the club cafeteria food untouched, so Ángel ate the rest."
"…That food was awful."
"Of course! You've been spoiled by my cooking."
My father brought out my dinner—a bright red kimchi jjigae that didn't match the Western restaurant's vibe.
"Oh! What's that?"
Ricardo's curiosity flared as he eyed the dish.
"Korean food."
"Can I try some?"
"It's spicy."
"I love spicy food!"
"Don't push yourself."
Ignoring my warning, Ricardo insisted. I handed him a small portion, and he eagerly took a bite.
"Waaaahhh! What is this?! Cough cough!"
"See? I told you."
"Huff… This isn't just spicy—it's like someone poured lava into my mouth!"
Made with Korean cheongyang chili powder, the stew was naturally fiery.
"Why do you eat something like this?"
"Koreans love it."
"That?! It's a weapon, not food."
"It's my favorite."
Despite trying all kinds of stews, my father's kimchi jjigae remained the best. The blend of aged kimchi and pork over white rice was pure happiness.
Ricardo, thoroughly defeated, didn't ask for more.
"Oh, by the way, Carlos returns next week after his suspension."
Carlos, who had been suspended for drinking and getting injured, was a former starting forward. Would I lose my spot?
"I know."
"Aren't you worried?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Really?"
"I'm confident I won't lose my place."
I wasn't about to step aside quietly. My current stats—8 goals and 4 assists—ranked me among the top five in goals and assists. There was no way the coach would bench me.
"You might even win the league's Golden Boot."
"That's going too far."
Ricardo, slicing the last piece of meat, asked carefully, "Are European clubs showing interest?"
"…"
"Will you go?"
I hesitated at the serious question before answering honestly.
"I don't know."
"…"
"But I won't leave until I help you win the championship. So don't worry."
Surprised, Ricardo grinned.
"In that case, I better not win. I need you to stay at Boca."
After finishing our meal, Ricardo extended an invitation.
"Yoo!"
"Yes?"
"Come to our place next time! My wife's cooking is amazing."
His wife, Martina Mesa, smiled warmly.
"You should come next week. I've been wanting to cook for you."
"And our kids—our 14-year-old son and 16-year-old daughter—would love to meet you."
Since that incident, I'd avoided visiting anyone's home.
"I'll come."
But I needed to change, even just a little. I couldn't keep pushing away new connections because of bad memories from the past.
---
League Round 13: Boca Juniors vs. CA Aldosivi.
The Estadio José María Minella, Aldosivi's home ground, was packed with 30,000 passionate fans. Though smaller than Boca's La Bombonera, the atmosphere was electric.
"Let's go, Aldosivi! Show no fear and push back the enemy!"
Aldosivi fought tenaciously against Boca Juniors' fierce attack, determined to cling to a mid-table position. Their players were relentless, grabbing at any opportunity.
"Gabriel!"
Playing as a left-back, Gabriel was holding his ground, but as Yoo Ji-woo dribbled closer, a strange unease crept over him.
'What's happening?'
Yoo Ji-woo's dribbling was overwhelming. He couldn't predict the direction or movement, his mind going blank.
'No… I can't let him—!'
He lunged but hesitated, his leg slicing empty air. Yoo Ji-woo easily slipped the ball through Gabriel's legs with a nutmeg.
["Yoo Ji-woo beats Gabriel! He's driving into the box—wow!"]
Thunk!
Veteran defender Martín Vecchio stepped in, using his physicality to stop Ji-woo.
"Focus, Gabriel! That kid isn't a 16-year-old. He's a professional."
Vecchio's commanding presence held Aldosivi's defense together.
---
Late in the first half, Ji-woo faced Gabriel again. With deceptive feints, Ji-woo twisted his body and executed a rabona kick, sending a perfect cross into the box.
["Cross from Yoo! Ricardo Mesa—header! Goooooal!"]
While the stadium roared for Ricardo's goal, one elderly fan sat still, tears streaming down his face.
He saw something in Ji-woo—something familiar.
"Grandpa, what is it?"
The old man whispered, his voice trembling with nostalgia.
"It's as if he's returned."
In Yoo Ji-woo's dazzling, confident play, he saw the spirit of the legendary Diego Maradona.