Manager Mourinho had been exuding confidence in interviews for days leading up to the match.
> "I don't deny that Real Madrid's record this season is incredible. But our Inter is a team with deep tactical perfection. And football isn't a game played alone. There's a reason for my confidence. It will be proven on the field."
The players regained their momentum through well-timed media tactics.
It was meant to shake the morale of their opponents.
But once the game began, it was all in vain.
Perhaps it would have been better if they had used that interview time to come up with an additional response strategy.
Then again, the result would have been the same…
> "Now there's only one move left."
And so, the decisive final match, the one that would seal both teams' fates, neared its conclusion.
> [Marco Materazzi comes in to replace Walter Samuel. His eyes are sharp. He hasn't even done anything yet, but the crowd is already booing him.]
[That's because he's a player with a reputation.]
Marco Materazzi.
The man infamous for provoking Zidane with an insult about his sister during the 2006 World Cup final. The undisputed king of dirty play.
There's a saying: If La Liga has Pepe, Serie A has Materazzi.
> No, Pepe is just a rookie compared to him.
Hoyoung knew exactly what kind of player Materazzi was.
Also known as "Matacle."
A defender who performed bone-crushing tackles as effortlessly as eating a meal. He was so notorious that there were even compilation videos showcasing his dirtiest fouls.
Compared to him, Pepe was a saint.
And just as Hoyoung expected, the provocations started as soon as play resumed.
> "Hey, stop reeking of garlic and go back to your country."
Materazzi, now marking Hoyoung, kept spewing low-grade trash talk.
But Hoyoung remained composed. He steadied his breathing and cleared his mind.
> Ignore it. Just focus on playing. There's not much time left in the game.
He already knew what kind of player Materazzi was. He could predict exactly what insults would come next.
And then—
> "I saw it on Facebook. Your girlfriend died, right? Was her name Monica? She looks just like a prostitute I know. She's a real pro at giving service."
There was no hesitation. Materazzi went straight for the lowest blow possible.
But his pattern was obvious. Hoyoung wasn't going to fall for it.
> This guy hasn't changed at all.
Modern football had evolved, with more sophisticated psychological tactics and mind games. But Materazzi? He was just an old-school street thug.
And when Hoyoung didn't so much as flinch, Materazzi escalated.
> "I read an article about your mother. She's about my age, right? I heard she's in Paris right now. That true?"
This time, he dragged family into it.
At that moment, Hoyoung's face hardened like stone.
There are things one can tolerate, and things one absolutely cannot.
This was the latter.
But—
Crack.
Hoyoung clenched his teeth.
And he made a silent promise.
> I'll tear you apart until there's nothing left.
---
> [70 minutes into the second half, Real Madrid's momentum surges! Woo Ho-young gets the ball.]
[Materazzi presses aggressively the moment he receives it! That was dangerous!]
[Fortunately, Woo Ho-young dodges skillfully! If he hadn't been careful, he could have tripped and fallen. Swiss referee Massimo warns Materazzi.]
BOOOO!
The crowd erupted in loud boos.
Even though Hoyoung managed to avoid the foul, Materazzi's reckless challenge alone warranted a caution.
But referee Massimo was lenient and let play continue quickly.
And Materazzi? He kept fouling. Cleverly. Brutally.
> He's really set on taking me out today.
As expected of an Italian defender, he was a handful to deal with.
This was precisely why Ho-young had never considered joining Serie A, despite repeated offers from AC Milan.
If you so much as blinked, you'd find yourself sprawled on the ground.
And with the World Cup just around the corner, he had to be extra careful.
Then came the 75th minute.
A long pass from Raul Albiol soared across the pitch.
> [Woo Ho-young races toward the airborne ball!]
[At the same time, Materazzi charges in! It's a fierce aerial battle!]
Materazzi charged forward like a battering ram.
A towering figure, standing over 190cm and weighing 90kg.
Despite Woo Ho-young's renowned physical strength, the sheer difference in size wasn't easy to overcome.
Materazzi leaped.
And then—
He swung his elbow.
Hard.
His plan was simple: crush any part of Hoyoung's face—eyes, nose, chin—it didn't matter.
As long as Woo Ho-young was carried off the field, that was all that mattered.
He didn't care if he got ejected.
If getting sent off meant eliminating Hoyoung, then it was a fair trade.
He swung with all his might.
And then—
BANG!
> "Kuhh!"
> [Ah! Woo Ho-young and Materazzi collide violently! The medical team is rushing onto the field! It looks serious!]
[Oh no… Hoyoung took a hard hit. Blood is dripping from his nose, and he's struggling to stand. A concussion check is necessary.]
The match paused momentarily as medical staff rushed in.
> "Hey! Marco! Are you okay?!"
"Materazzi! Stay with us!"
But the one lying motionless on the ground…
Wasn't Hoyoung.
It was Materazzi.
> "…Huh? What…?"
Materazzi lay dazed, his eyes unfocused.
He mumbled, completely confused.
> "Wh… what happened?"
"You got hit in the chin mid-air. Don't you remember?"
"…Ah… ah…."
He vaguely recalled pulling back his elbow.
But he had no memory of Hoyoung's shoulder slamming into his chin just before that.
> "…Fuck."
Materazzi was so shaken he couldn't even get up.
It felt like he had headbutted a steel wall.
And for good reason.
Hoyoung had acquired Pepe's "Amazing Fighting Spirit" talent.
He understood the art of physical combat now. And when necessary—he fought back.
If someone tried to take him down, he wouldn't just stand there and take it.
An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.
Materazzi was subbed off just ten minutes after being brought in.
Hoyoung?
He got off with just a warning.
Because he had gone for the ball first, and Materazzi had charged in recklessly.
And with that, Mourinho's final trick had been completely neutralized.
There were no cards left to play.
The rest of the match unfolded completely in Real Madrid's favor.
Inter fought desperately, but the score remained locked at 2-0.
Their defense, once shaken, never fully recovered.
And by the 80th minute, frustration boiled over.
Inter players, having all but given up, resorted to reckless tackles out of spite.
Whenever Hoyoung got the ball, he was swarmed with harsh fouls.
> [The crowd erupts in boos. Some fans begin throwing food onto the pitch.]
[This is disgraceful. This isn't football anymore. This goes against the very spirit of fair play.]
Finally, Coach Scolari made the call.
> [Raul Gonzalez subs in for Woo Ho-young, who's taken too much punishment.]
[It's the right move. The Champions League Golden Boot is already his.]