Chapter 99 - 13: Small Group

Chapter 99: Chapter 13: Small Group

"...Suk with the cross!! Mandzukic!! Ahhh~~~~ he missed!!"

Mandzukic landed and turned his head to watch the ball fly past the end line, his eyes filled with bitter disappointment.

He had jumped with all his might, but he still couldn’t keep up with the team’s overall rhythm.

Sweat slid down his forehead, soaking his cheeks and his jersey.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, turned his head, and shouted:

"Again!!"

The match clock showed 78 minutes, and the score was currently 3-1.

At the 55-minute mark, Davor Suker had been subbed out, and Mandzukic came on as his replacement.

Then, at 67 minutes, Slaven Belupo scored a goal on a counter-attack.

After Davor Suker left the pitch, Suk became a thorn in Slaven Belupo’s side and was heavily contained.

With no one in the center to draw defenders away from Suk, Mandzukic failed to become an explosive threat.

As a result, Dinamo Zagreb couldn’t play the way they had in the first half.

And Mandzukic was a big part of the problem.

"Mario, he can’t keep up with the rhythm!"

Davor Suker sat beside Head Coach Be?i?, shaking his head as he watched Mandzukic run around chaotically on the field. "His tactical awareness is too poor!"

Be?i? said nothing, his expression remaining placid.

Time ticked by, and the match gradually neared its end.

Mandzukic’s performance remained terrible.

His movement, his timing, his off-the-ball runs—everything was a mess.

He seemed completely out of sync with the current system. This reduced the pressure on Slaven Belupo’s central defense, allowing them to spare players to mark Suk.

Suk attempted to break through a few times, but he couldn’t escape when double- or triple-teamed.

Even his attempts to drop back were intercepted and broken up by the opposition.

Dinamo Zagreb failed to score another goal before the final whistle.

However, thanks to their outstanding first-half performance, Dinamo Zagreb still defeated Slaven Belupo 3-1, securing a win in their season opener.

When the match ended, the Dinamo Zagreb fans in the stadium erupted in thunderous applause.

The applause was for the impressive young players, but most of it was directed at the man standing at the very front, wearing the captain’s armband: Davor Suker.

"Suker, welcome home!!"

"Golden Left Foot! Your left foot is as amazing as ever!"

"Suker! You are the eternal pride of Dinamo Zagreb!"

"Amazing game!! Suker!"

Facing the passionate fans, Davor Suker waved back again and again.

His face was wreathed in smiles.

Behind him, Suk, Modric, and the others had become part of the scenery.

Standing next to the Croatian hero, no matter how well they played, they couldn’t steal much of the spotlight.

"The second half was a mess!"

Suk said in a low voice.

Modric nodded. "They marked you too tightly. You couldn’t drop back to receive the ball, so the attack up front fell into disarray."

Suk looked past Modric toward Mandzukic, who was at the back of the line of players.

Mandzukic’s head was down, his expression unreadable, but you could feel his immense frustration.

However, Suk had no intention of comforting him.

’This is the professional stage.’

Whether you could prove yourself, whether you could deliver a performance—no one else could help you much with that.

’You have to rely on yourself!’

But fortunately, they had still won their opening match, and Suk’s performance in his debut had been excellent.

That night, all of Croatia’s major newspapers were printing stories about Davor Suker’s return debut.

With two goals in his first game back, Davor Suker was the undisputed Player of the Match.

"The Magical Golden Left Foot!"

"Two Goals! Davor Suker Dominates the Match!"

"This Is the Power of Croatia’s Top Star!"

"Davor Suker Leads a Young Dinamo Zagreb!"

Nine out of ten reports were about Davor Suker; the last one was a detailed description of the match.

Suk earned a small mention for his outstanding performance, but under the brilliance of Davor Suker’s halo, he didn’t attract much attention.

...

Winning the season opener was an excellent start for Dinamo Zagreb.

The team still had some issues, but they were in the process of gelling and improving.

After the first match, Be?i? gave the players a short holiday on Sunday to let them rest fully.

The Dinamo Zagreb players cherished the rare day off.

However, some chose to do extra training during the holiday.

THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!

Mandzukic was pounding away on the treadmill.

Each of his heavy steps landed solidly on the treadmill’s belt, and his labored breathing showed he was exhausted.

Sweat flew from his swinging arms.

BEEP!

Mandzukic slowly reduced his pace, and once he came to a complete stop, he leaned on the treadmill’s handrails, gasping for air.

While Mandzukic was resting, the fitness coach, Losperich, who was standing nearby, said, "Mario, holidays are for resting."

Mandzukic caught his breath slightly and replied, "I can’t rest. I still have too many shortcomings."

Whenever he thought about his terrible performance in the last match, Mandzukic felt a heavy weight in his chest.

Everyone else had played well; he was the only one who had been awful.

Mandzukic knew very well that he was a major reason why the team had been on the back foot in the second half.

Because of that, he had to put in more effort.

The gap wasn’t impossible to close, so he needed to work even harder.

"Let’s go again!"

To the sound of the treadmill and his own rhythmic breathing, Mandzukic poured sweat in the training room, putting in extra work.

Meanwhile, in Suk’s dorm room.

"What are you guys all doing here in my room?"

Suk looked at the group of guys clutching controllers, playing a FIFA game.

Serna had just bought a new game console yesterday, and today he had brought it to Suk’s dorm, hooked it up to the TV, and started playing.

Besides Serna, there was Duimovic, Modric, Planic, and Vukojevic. Including Suk, that made six people in total.

Serna’s eyes were glued to the game on the TV. Without turning his head, he said, "My parents don’t know I bought this console, so I had to bring it to your dorm!"

Duimovic, also focused on the TV, added, "From now on, this is our new base!"

"On what grounds!" Suk shouted, pointing at Duimovic. "He lives right next door, why not go there?"

"The environment is terrible!" Modric turned to look at Suk seriously. "Trust me, you don’t want to hang out in a room that smells like stinky feet."

Suk: "..."

Suk plopped down on the sofa, watching the others engrossed in the video game.

"Where’s Mario?"

Serna asked.

Suk: "He went for extra training."

Hearing this, Serna paused and turned to Suk. "Extra training? But it’s our day off!"

Suk shrugged. "That guy is really bothered by his performance yesterday."

Duimovic, mashing the buttons on his controller, said, "He really did bomb his debut."

Suk said, "Mario’s strengths are his height and his ability to judge where the ball will land. His nose for the goal isn’t bad either, but he just runs around randomly. He has no sense of positioning."

"Not enough chemistry!" Planic said, stuffing a handful of chips into his mouth. "He was already out of sync with us during training before."

Serna glanced at Suk. "Aren’t you going to help him?"

Suk rolled his eyes. "He’s not a kid. And some things you just have to face on your own."

Serna handed the controller to Modric. "But he can’t practice his positioning runs by himself, can he?"

Suk asked in surprise, "You’re going to help him?"

Serna scratched his head. "I’ll help where I can. After all, Mario has a lot of potential. If we can develop it, he can be a great aerial threat in the center."

With that, Serna asked, "Are you guys interested?"

Suk and the others all shook their heads in unison.

"Not interested!"

Serna grinned, raised his index finger, and pointed it at Suk. "I’ll treat you to a Chinese meal!"

There was a Szechuan restaurant in Zagreb, but it was extremely expensive. Suk had only eaten there once.

Hearing this, Suk immediately shot up and grabbed Serna’s finger.

"Deal!"

With that, Suk stood up and kicked Duimovic’s butt. "Get up! Time to change clothes!"

"Why should I?" Duimovic still didn’t want to move.

Suk said fiercely, "Consider it rent! You guys are treating this place like your base, so you’ve got to pay up, right? Believe it or not, next time you come over, the console might just be gone!"

At this, Duimovic reluctantly got up.

Suk urged the others to get up as well.

Serna, meanwhile, revealed a slight smile.

As they were getting up, Modric asked Serna, "Why didn’t you just try to persuade them yourself?"

Serna shrugged. "Because I can’t. Suk is the boss!"

Every team has its cliques, small groups that slowly form based on commonalities.

Suk and the others had gradually grown closer due to their similar ages and abilities.

And within such a small group, a ’leader’ role inevitably forms.

Serna’s statement wasn’t entirely accurate. Suk wasn’t the leader yet, but his performance in the first match had earned him the respect of the others.

Therefore, his words carried more weight.

In reality, everyone, including Suk, tacitly accepted this small group and actively participated in it.

Therefore, as long as the request wasn’t too outrageous, they wouldn’t refuse.