5. Football Arena    His pearly white uniform fully made out of nylon, reflected the sunbeams of the setting sun. The digits 88 were printed in an incarnadine on his jersey - the grid position of a quarterback. He bent down to lace up his black spiked shoes, called cleats.    The spikes drilled into the fir sprigs pitch as he made his way to the pair of collapsable chairs in the end zone. The grass gritted beneath his sluggish steps.    A sudden wind buffeted. His hair swirled around, limiting his view as strands of his hair were dancing in front of his eyes. Due to his short-sleeved Jersey his goosebumps could be seen.    Kai didn't want to do this interview, he was weary of the prying questions from those pseudo cognoscenti. The fact is that they haven't played on the pitch, haven't experienced the strain during the match, weren't aware of the risk he takes, made him reserved from their recommendations.    A collision with an alternative player could have disastrous consequences. There was always the possibility to have an accident, an injury, resulting in never playing again. Yet they would make blunt and bold suggestions to win the match. Tackle every opponent in ball possession, being aggressive on the field.    Were they criticizing his abilities to lead the teams? After all, they were pursuing his commands that he screamed at the huddle.      Did they pillory his team?    A growl escaped his throat, like a ravenous wolf. His Coach - Lee - was walking beside him, observing the Quarterback with eagle eyes.  Kai was at daggers drawn with him, acting funny would be the beginning of war. The punishment could be much worse.   He looked around whenever he entered the stadium, he felt small compared to the countless benches that encompassed the playing field. A couple of fans were already taking their designated seats. Their colourful clothes and fan merchandise made a draft from the greyish seats.     When in less than one hour all squares will be occupied by supporters from both teams the home side and away side he would feel suffocated again. At least the chants would be his remedy. He wasn't alone.    The cameras were bent on the two representatives of the 'Wolves', holding microphones in front of them to capture their responses and statements.    "Coach Lee, how are you?" the reporter of a sports magazine asked and shook hands with him.    "I'm Tom from Sport World" he introduced himself. The snapping of the camera rung out.    "Do you think this season you'll have to deal with a sea of difficulties? Prestigious reviewers declared that your quarterback is classified as the best. Not only in Seoul, but also within Asia. He may compete with the best Quarterback from America."    The Coach forced a smile, for a moment he shot a disappointed glimpse at Jongin, before he returned to the cameraman.    "He is quite good. I'm proud of him, but he has a lot to learn. During our last training session he showed a deficit." he responded in a clinical pitch. It was obviously for Kai that he was furious and was not referring to his virtuosity. "However, no one can ever predict the procedure of the first season. We are athirst for the championship title."   Kai clicked his tongue. Devastating his qualities in consequence of his rendezvous with the 'Eagle' player was an impolicy. He isn't at fault, he was wrongly accused. Before a boxing match it was common to provoke your enemy to his limits.     He planned to keep his mouth shut, but his Coach couldn't separate private and business anymore, so why should he play according to the rules?   "My deficit has arisen from his prejudices against me. They are not based on my performance during our workout, otherwise I wouldn't be apart of the line-up this evening. It is Coach Lee's first year as the head trainer for a professional unit. He cannot distinguish between a diamond and a crag after managing a junior team that basically was composed of rich people. He thinks players nowadays need to be rich, not talented."   His fingers were scratching over the wooden armrest, before he finally embraced them. If looks could kill he would have died the moment he dropped the bomb, but once words were spoken, they could only be forgiven.    The interviewer seemed to be equally stunned by the outburst from the Quarterback. He needed to look at his notebook to remember his original question.    "Jongin, what do you plan to do after your graduation? Will we hear more about you?"   An easy one.    He studied the rejoinder to basic questions.    "After my graduation, I'm going to start playing for the national team. I will win all possible goblets. The golden football. The player of the year distinction and become a legend with my Field Goal that covered a 70 Yard distance. At least that is what I'm planning to do. I will not waste my time on love and marriage."   Jongin leaned back against the fabric backrest. At least he