Chapter 96: That Time We Entered the World Cup in South America (2)

TL: Skye

"The World Cup?"

"Yes. The World Cup."

When I laid the FIFA letter out at the Cabinet meeting, the Senior Secretaries reacted exactly as I'd expected.

Blank stares.

Just... blank.

"Your Excellency, is it possible someone's impersonating FIFA...?"

A cautious question from Resa.

"No. It's genuine. I already contacted FIFA and confirmed it's the real thing."

When I set the official letter, the FIFA logo stamped crisply across it, down in the center of the table, the Senior Secretaries passed it around and read.

The more they read, the stranger their expressions grew.

"This... this isn't an invitation to the World Cup qualifiers. It's a letter urging us to join FIFA, isn't it?"

Isabella cut straight to the heart of it.

That's right.

San Marcos, astonishingly, was not a member of FIFA.

'Hell, even North Korea's a FIFA member. This is beyond the pale.'

FIFA's position was simple.

San Marcos had been drawing international attention of late, so they would extend special treatment for entry into the World Cup qualifiers. So hurry up, form a football association, and join FIFA.

"Correct. In truth, it's less an invitation than a letter asking whether we intend to take part at all."

"...With no infrastructure whatsoever right now, standing up a football association and assembling a national team won't be any small undertaking."

I nodded at Ricardo's point.

Honestly, that had been my first thought too.

Right now, with the highway construction still unfinished, the new-city development in full swing, the power grid yet to be laid, and, on top of all that, a logistics company to be founded.

'Isn't now a slightly odd time to be worrying about something like football?'

Or so I'd thought.

But.

'Wait... this could actually be a nice little earner?'

Look closely at the World Cup and it's basically a business.

And maybe a business that could wring out returns of several hundred percent on the investment.

"So I sat down and worked out what we'd actually gain by entering the World Cup."

I rose from my seat and asked.

"Would anyone care to venture a guess first?"

At my question, Resa raised her hand.

"The first thing that comes to mind is the publicity."

"Exactly. The World Cup is broadcast worldwide. Which means the name 'San Marcos' lands in front of hundreds of millions of eyes. Convert that into advertising spend and what do you get?"

I looked at Resa.

"...At least ten million dollars, I'd imagine."

"Precisely. Pour in a million dollars and you'll still struggle to get a country's name out there. You'd have to hurl a solid ten million at it just to make a dent. But if we can put our name on the map with a single run at the qualifiers, well, I'd call that a bargain."

It's true.

How would Koreans ever have come to know Costa Rica, way down in Central America?

For the vast majority, it was through watching the World Cup.

'Making the quarterfinals at the Brazil World Cup, that's what did it.'

And once a name gets out there like that, what happens next?

"The people who watched the broadcast will go and search 'San Marcos.' Up come the new casino city, the Caribbean beaches, the Libertad night market. Organic tourism marketing, just like that."

National promotion, plain and simple.

"There's another benefit."

I said, meeting the eyes of the Senior Secretaries.

"Cheering on the national team is, in any country, the single finest instrument of national unity there is. And when it's the World Cup, there's no better event on earth for binding a people together as one."

"......"

Faces that didn't quite follow.

Well, no surprise there.

'You'd have to have actually been part of something like this to get it.'

Korea had learned that sport could be a vehicle for national unity by hosting the 2002 World Cup, but San Marcos had never so much as participated.

To help the Senior Secretaries along, I carried on with my explanation.

"Picture it, just for a moment. The people of San Marcos, united as one, cheering on their own national team. Won't they share the joy of victory with a neighbor they'd grown estranged from, and soothe the sting of defeat alongside a friend who'd once been like a mortal enemy?"

"But, Your Excellency, the people have long since been made one under your leadership..."

And then, ignoring Lucio's remark, I put forward my final point.

"San Marcos today is running like a racehorse that never looks back. And that, inevitably, wears the people down. This World Cup will give them an occasion to rest. And beyond that, I intend to use it as a springboard to raise up a sports industry and see to the people's welfare."

The Senior Secretaries were staring at me, dazed.

"Well? What do you make of my case?"

"...It has merit, but."

Isabella nodded.

"The cost won't be trivial, I suspect."

"You're right. It'll take a considerable sum."

San Marcos had no football association.

No national team, of course, no stadium, and not a single professional club to speak of.

If there was one saving grace.

'The people do love their football.'

It was simply a country where kicking a ball around the back alleys had been an everyday thing since childhood.

Now, a question.

Right next door, Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic are baseball powerhouses, so why isn't our San Marcos the same?

The answer is simple.

'Because there's no money.'

The people had no money, so they fell in love with football instead.

Baseball needs a bat, needs a glove, but with football, one ball is enough for twenty-two people to have the time of their lives.

For that very reason.

"But whatever the cost, entering the World Cup comes out in our favor."

"I'm sorry?"

"Setting up a football association, bringing in a manager, assembling the national team and the facilities, all of it, won't come to even ten million dollars. And the national payoff we stand to gain is worth more than that, so there's no reason not to do it."

The Senior Secretaries looked at me, all at once.

"Of course, they have to be good enough not to embarrass us. Lose ten to nil and it's not national promotion, it's national humiliation."

Isabella, who had been lost in thought for a moment, slowly nodded.

"Then, for now, how about we just assemble a national team and simply enter the qualifiers? Later, watching how the public responds, we decide whether to build a stadium or form professional clubs."

"An excellent point. Let's proceed that way."

"Understood. Then leave this matter to us. We'll do everything in our power to see that no discredit falls upon Your Excellency."

"Yes. Let's do that."

And so, participation in the World Cup was decided.

***

That night, after the Cabinet meeting had ended, five people gathered in the secret conference room beneath the Presidential Palace.

Isabella, Lucio, Pedro, Resa, and Anna.

An emergency meeting of [UJIN Forever], the secret society devoted to making Yu-jin President for Life, had been convened.

"We're short on time, so I'll get straight to it. As you all know, His Excellency decided today to enter the World Cup qualifiers."

When Isabella set a copy of the FIFA letter down in the center of the round table, the members let out sighs.

"...We don't even have a national team. That's a problem."

"No football association... no manager, either."

"This may well become the first failure of His Excellency's tenure."

Every last reaction, negative.

"Dar uma bronca!" [TL: Portuguese, roughly "give them a good scolding".]

Isabella barked the rebuke and swept her gaze over the members and their faint-hearted talk.

"You'd lay down your lives for His Excellency, and here you are talking defeat before we've even begun?! Do you dare mean to hand His Excellency a failure?!"

At the thundering of the woman who was the second most powerful figure in the current regime, everyone fell silent, Pedro, her own uncle, included.

"Every one of you, get your heads straight. The Tortilla Farm is not somebody else's problem."

At Isabella's chilling words, every mouth in the room stayed shut.

"His Excellency did tell us to build a team good enough not to embarrass us, yes. But we must deliver him something more than that."

"Then how far are you thinking, Director?"

"Qualifying for the World Cup finals. That is how far I'm looking."

A resolute, no-nonsense answer.

"For His Excellency to be humiliated on the international stage is a failure for every one of us. And conversely, what if His Excellency's team puts up a real fight?"

The corners of her mouth curled upward.

"A president who worked a miracle in a footballing wasteland, a country without a single pro club. Where would you find a more perfect narrative than that?"

Silence settled over the conference room for a moment.

Lucio was the first to speak.

"I agree. The World Cup is a stage the whole world watches. If His Excellency's name is running through the international sports headlines, the case for President for Life grows firmer on the world stage as well."

"That's exactly it."

"Then it all comes down to one thing. How do we get to the finals?"

Pedro said it, propping his chin on his hand, and Resa answered with a shake of her head.

"But the reality is that even countries with professional clubs fail to make it through the World Cup qualifiers. Personally, I think it's extraordinarily difficult."

"I know it won't be easy."

Isabella rose to her feet.

"But isn't that precisely why we've gathered here?"

"......"

Isabella spoke, resolute.

"Do you remember what San Marcos's GDP per capita was when His Excellency took office?"

"...It was somewhere around two thousand dollars."

"And now?"

"It's passed four thousand and is closing in on five thousand."

"Does that strike you as a figure that's possible by any normal standard?"

"I'd call it nothing short of a miracle."

"Correct. And in spite of that, His Excellency pulled it off."

"......"

"Every one of you has stood at His Excellency's side and watched him turn the impossible into the possible dozens of times over... and now you hesitate over a mere game of football?"

There was no arguing with that.

That was how far beyond ordinary reason Yu-jin's achievements ran.

Isabella looked around at the members and spoke.

"You seem to have taken my point, so from here I'll divide up the tasks. First, Field Marshal Pedro."

"Go on."

"Select the soldiers with the finest physical abilities from the military. And Senior Secretary Resa, put out word nationwide that we're picking a national football team and gather up the applicants. Oh, and sketch out a plan for how we'll establish the football association, too. I'd be grateful if you could do it as quickly as possible."

"Understood."

"And Director Lucio."

"Yes."

"Find out whether there are any professional footballers among our emigrants overseas. Mixed heritage is no obstacle, so offer them good terms and naturalize them, if you would."

"Understood."

"Oh, and shortlist some candidates for manager. A Korean, ideally."

"There's already someone I've had my eye on."

"Director Lucio, as expected."

The two of them met each other's eyes.

Isabella was grateful that Lucio had pulled himself back together, and Lucio felt grateful to Isabella for the push that got him there.

"And Anna."

"Yes, Director."

"For the duration of this World Cup project, any time a football-related engagement lands on His Excellency's schedule, make certain a camera is always on him. Shaking hands with the players, visiting the training ground, and if at all possible, footage of him kicking a ball himself."

"Is His Excellency any good at football?"

"It doesn't matter if he's terrible. What matters is the image of a leader standing shoulder to shoulder with his players."

Anna pushed her glasses up and nodded.

"Understood. I'll set it all up so he comes across as impressive as humanly possible."

Isabella nodded, satisfied, then rose from her chair.

"One last thing."

Her gaze traveled once around the round table.

"If we reach the finals, the people will go wild for His Excellency. And that fervor will translate directly into his approval ratings."

She clenched her fist.

"So I ask each of you to give your utmost, that His Excellency's regime may endure for all time."

And with that, the meeting came to an end.

As if by prior agreement, all five rose at once and turned to face the life-sized, gold-plated statue of Yu-jin standing off to one side.

"For the Eternal Sun of San Marcos!"

"For the Eternal Sun of San Marcos!"

As if in answer, Yu-jin's statue caught and threw back the glare of the fluorescent lights.

*****

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