Chapter 83 - 81: Successful Chip Shot

Chapter 83: Chapter 81: Successful Chip Shot

"...Mostar Zrinjski is playing too hastily. They’re desperate to win the championship, forcing the ball forward whenever possible, but their attacks lack variety!"

Twenty minutes into the game, Mostar Zrinjski was starting to look very anxious.

They passed forward relentlessly, even attempting several crosses that were cleared away by the opposition’s towering central defender, Bosschenoqi.

This style of attack was actually playing right into the hands of the Sarajevo Railway Workers.

Suk looked at his teammates. Everyone was just charging forward and hoofing the ball.

They were full of energy, but their attacks were chaotic and disorganized.

Even Modric was starting to lose his cool.

It’s hard to maintain composure when a championship is on the line, but that’s precisely when you need to be calmest.

Suk saw the tempo quickening, spiraling out of control.

’I need to take control of the tempo,’ he thought.

With that, Suk quickly dropped back, all the way to the halfway line.

"Luka! Pass!"

Modric was about to launch a long pass behind the defense, but he stopped short the moment he heard Suk’s shout.

Suk glanced forward. No one was making a run, so he repeated with emphasis,

"Pass it here!"

Modric opened up his body and passed the ball over.

After receiving the ball, Suk didn’t pass it forward. Instead, he carried it toward the center, and just as an opponent closed in, he laid it off to Billiar.

But Suk didn’t return to the wing. He held his central position and moved to offer Billiar a passing option again.

"Back here!"

Billiar was about to try and force his way through, but at Suk’s shout, he halted and made the return pass.

Only after he passed it back did he calm down.

He saw that the opposing central defender was already closing in. Even if he had gotten past his man, the defender would have blocked him off, likely causing him to lose possession.

Suk received the ball again and immediately passed it back.

As he dropped back, Suk gestured downwards with both hands and shouted,

"Slow down! Settle the tempo! Let’s keep possession!"

Suk held a high status within the team, something he had earned through his stellar performances.

Therefore, no one said a word, even when Suk drifted into midfield and began to encroach on Modric’s space.

Even Modric himself didn’t object.

In fact, Modric had also come to his senses by now.

’I was playing too hastily!’

Modric played a simple back pass, gave Suk a thumbs-up, and then continued to drop back to receive the ball again.

Seeing Modric’s gesture, Suk finally breathed a sigh of relief.

’He’s finally calmed down.’

When the ball came to Suk’s feet again, he had his back to the goal. The opposing defensive midfielder immediately closed in tight, giving him no room to turn.

Modric made a run from the side, drawing the defensive midfielder’s attention.

But Suk didn’t pass to him. Instead, he passed back again, then turned and shouted, "You overran it! Why do you get so hot-headed?!"

Modric scratched his head in embarrassment and immediately dropped back to help build up the play.

After a few simple passing combinations, Suk saw that Modric had finally calmed down completely. Only then did he turn and run back to his position on the wing.

From the stands, Be?i? watched the scene unfold as Suk took the initiative to drift into the middle and direct the play.

He said in surprise, "Suk knows how to playmake?"

"He’s more of an offensive playmaker, using incisive passes to tear open a defense. But..." Atgeni scratched his head, astonished. "I never thought he could play like a metronome, setting the tempo!"

Suk’s last few passes were a classic example of a tempo-setter at work.

Every pass was simple and efficient, ensuring his team kept possession, slowing the tempo or quickening it as needed.

He used his reading of the game to make the most advantageous decisions for the team.

Just a moment ago, the Mostar Zrinjski players had clearly lost their heads, each one playing too aggressively, desperate to score a quick goal.

This caused their attacking rhythm to descend into chaos.

Especially with their metronome, Modric, constantly hitting the fast-forward button, Mostar Zrinjski couldn’t slow down at all.

That’s why Suk had to take the initiative, drifting into the middle to both encroach on Modric’s space and take charge of restoring order to the chaotic tempo.

After a few passes, Mostar Zrinjski finally calmed down.

Be?i? crossed his legs and rested his chin in his left hand, stroking it thoughtfully.

This was his signature gesture when something piqued his interest.

Suk’s performance in this match had been a huge surprise to him.

Be?i? smiled, "I see now why you said Suk plays like Zidane."

Of course, it was an exaggeration, but there were some similarities.

Cutting in from the wing, actively moving into the middle to orchestrate the play, and leaving the flank for the full-back to overlap.

That’s how a team’s core player operates!

Perhaps the kid didn’t even realize how important of a role he was playing.

Suk certainly didn’t know, but he knew one thing: it was exhausting.

Attacking, playmaking, defending—he had to be involved in everything.

Van Stiake’s demands on him were high, which meant Suk had to shoulder a greater workload.

At the same time, the left wing was Mostar Zrinjski’s main attacking channel, so he couldn’t afford to be careless.

With the ball at his feet on the wing, Suk performed a quick stop, a feint, another feint, and a third!

The three consecutive feints sent the full-back stumbling, but he still managed to keep up with Suk’s dribble.

The Sarajevo Railway Workers’ full-back, Chelotic, was drenched in sweat.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Every attempt to defend against Suk was a nerve-wracking experience.

If he fell even a single step behind, Suk would leave him for dead. The pressure was immense.

But fortunately, he was holding his ground.

Chelotic kept about two meters of distance from Suk, adopting an open, low stance. This allowed him to immediately track Suk if he cut inside, while intentionally giving him space on the outside.

Suk had two options. One was to charge for the byline and cross, but that would be intercepted by their towering central defender, Bosschenoqi.

The second was to pass to Modric, who was making a run into the middle, but Modric was also marked.

’Both options are covered,’ he thought.

Chelotic couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

But in the next second, someone shot past him from behind, and at the same time, Suk gently nudged the ball forward.

"Suk! Pass!"

Mostar Zrinjski’s full-back, Kerpic, was making an overlapping run.

’Damn it!’

Chelotic cursed under his breath. ’How did I lose track of him?’

He spun around and sprinted back in pursuit.

Kerpic sprinted all the way to the byline. He saw the opposing full-back desperately tracking back. By the time he controlled the ball, the guy would be there to block his cross.

However, he had no intention of crossing at all.

Kosopech had drawn the defenders with him toward the six-yard box, leaving a huge swathe of space open inside the penalty area.

He immediately cut the ball back diagonally to the waiting Suk.

"FUCK!!"

Chelotic roared in frustration and turned to charge at Suk again.

But he was too late.

Suk took the ball along the inside edge of the penalty area, dribbling forward two steps.

Just as the opposing central defender came rushing out, Suk unleashed a shot.

It was a finesse shot.

Hips forward, his form was perfect.

That perfect form produced a wickedly curling shot.

The ball spun rapidly, arcing through the air toward the top right corner of the goal.

The shot wasn’t particularly powerful, but its placement was perfect.

The Sarajevo Railway Workers’ goalkeeper dove desperately. His fingertips brushed the ball, but he couldn’t push it wide; he had only grazed it.

’It’s over!’

In that moment, the Sarajevo Railway Workers’ keeper was filled with dread.

All eyes followed the ball’s beautiful arc.

SWISH!

The ball nestled right into the top corner, ricocheting into the goal.

In the 32nd minute, Mostar Zrinjski took the lead with a goal from Suk!

"SUK!!!! GOAL!!!!!"

"A perfect arc!! A magnificent finesse shot!!"

"The Sarajevo Railway Workers’ goalkeeper had no chance! He could only watch helplessly as the ball dropped into the net."

"Of course, Kerpic’s overlapping run was also perfectly timed. He freed up Suk and made this goal possible!"

"That’s Suk’s 5th goal of the season! For the entire season, Suk now has an outstanding record of five goals and thirteen assists!"

"He is without a doubt Mostar Zrinjski’s offensive engine!"

After scoring, Suk ran toward the sideline.

As he neared the corner flag, Suk leaped into the air, pumping his arm forcefully in celebration.

ROOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!——

The more than ten thousand fans in the stadium erupted instantly.

They cheered for the crucial goal.

And they cheered for Suk’s brilliant performance.

The Mostar Zrinjski players came rushing over in a frenzy.

"Hahahahahaha! What a shot!"

"A goal! We scored!!"

"That was amazing!!"

"We’re gonna win the championship!! Hahahaha!!!"

Every single player was ecstatic.

This goal brought them one step closer to the championship.

On the sidelines, the Mostar Zrinjski coaching staff applauded.

Van Stiake was pleased with his player’s performance, but also felt a touch of melancholy.

Next season, they would be losing both Suk and Modric.

In the stands, Be?i? also applauded gently.

"A beautiful finesse shot. Crisp, clean, and the angle was perfect."

Be?i? gave the shot his full approval.

Its only weakness was perhaps the lack of power; the ball was a little slow.

But that wasn’t a major issue.

Be?i? straightened up slightly in his seat.

This season had been a frustrating one for Dinamo Zagreb due to internal turmoil, and it had been just as frustrating for the fans to watch.

But next season, after the first team was rebuilt, many interesting things might happen.