"Oh! My God!! Suker! Number 7, Suk! We must reevaluate this young man!"
"His speed is absolutely incredible!"
"This is a level of pace rarely seen in the Croatian League! He's like a bolt of lightning down the wing. In just an instant, he left Laušić in the dust! With explosive power and rapid strides, he quickly caught up and overtook Božić. A light and skillful Elastico shattered Slaven Belupo's defensive line!"
"If Božić hadn't pulled him down, it would've been a goal!"
Commentator Klaušević shouted in awe.
Up in the stands, Dinamo Zagreb fans clutched their heads in shock.
Their eyes were wide open, faces full of astonishment, delight, disbelief—all at once.
From the very start of the match, this brand-new Dinamo Zagreb team had brought them tremendous joy.
What amazed them most was that this surprise didn't come from Davor Šuker, but from another Suk who shares his name!
"Well done, kid!"
Davor Šuker came running over and gave Suk a firm pat on the back.
Anyone who witnessed such a blazing-fast sprint would be stirred with excitement.
This was the most intense and aggressive form of breakthrough in football.
No flashy tricks—just pure and absolute speed.
A mad dash! A lightning charge!
Suker picked himself up from the ground, retrieved the ball, and handed it over.
"The ball is in place!"
Davor Šuker ruffled Suker's hair and praised him again.
Then he clutched the ball and walked to the penalty spot.
In the eyes of tens of thousands of fans, Davor Šuker took a deep breath.
There was no way he could waste the penalty that the young Suk had earned with such flair.
Calm in mind and steady in heart.
Davor Šuker began his run-up.
Under the watchful gaze of the entire stadium, he struck the ball into the bottom left corner of the net.
Just two minutes into the game, Dinamo Zagreb took the lead thanks to Davor Šuker's penalty.
A perfect start in every sense!
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH——
The stadium exploded.
"Davor Šuker calmly buried the penalty! He didn't waste the brilliant effort from young Suk!"
"Some media outlets say this Dinamo Zagreb team is too young, but I say this—because they are young, we get to witness such spectacular football!"
"Yes! Their attacking style surprises us, but that's the energy of youth!"
"Let's give the loudest cheers and applause to the two Šukers!"
Davor Šuker jogged to the corner flag. He didn't celebrate himself but pushed Suker forward and pointed to him.
Clearly, he wanted the fans to focus their attention on Suk.er
Suker stared blankly at the stands.
Cheers erupted from all directions, like an earthquake—so loud it rattled the eardrums and made his blood boil. He trembled slightly.
There were over 40,000 fans in the stadium!
And they were all cheering for him!
This wave of applause—belonged to him!
Suker!!!!!!!!!!——
Suker!!!!!!!!!!——
Suker!!!!!!!!!!——
Suker licked his dry lips, eyes burning with something like fire.
"This feeling is amazing!"
"Slaven Belupo falling behind in the first two minutes—an unexpected start that has everyone fired up!"
"This is football—always full of the unpredictable, just like number 7 Suker's sudden burst forward!"
"Of course, we can't forget who started the attack—Modrić, the talented youngster from Dinamo Zagreb's youth academy!"
"Suker! Modrić! These young players are drawing the spotlight with their performances, and all we need to do is enjoy the show and give them the applause they deserve!"
Another wave of cheers rippled through the stands.
On the south stand, bus driver Krediwači clapped with a smile.
"That was beautiful football!"
Next to him, Boteći exclaimed, "His speed is insane!"
"This is just the beginning," said Krediwači proudly. "You didn't see him in the friendly against Red Star Belgrade—Suerk has more than just speed in his arsenal!"
On the pitch, as Suker tracked back, Srna gave him a thumbs up.
"Great job, Suker!"
Suk returned the gesture.
Then Srna shouted to the others, "Hey! Suker's already led by example—we can't let him hog all the spotlight. It's time for the rest of us to shine too!"
His words fired up the other youngsters.
Just like Srna said, Suker had set the standard—they had to step up too.
The match resumed.
After conceding early, Slaven Belupo grew anxious.
Their midfield pushed forward. Midfielder Malinaći spotted an opening and tried to slip the ball to the striker.
But at the crucial moment, Vukojević slid in with a clean interception.
"A perfect tackle!"
After the interception, Vukojević quickly passed the ball to Modrić, who nudged it sideways and used his left foot to flick it between an opponent's legs, sending it out wide to Suker.
As soon as Suker received the ball, opposing fullback Laušić tensed up.
Suker's sheer pace weighed heavily on him.
He was terrified that Suker might break loose again.
"I have to stay tight!"
Suker glanced at the hyper-focused Laušić, who was staring at his feet.
Suker dribbled, moving into the half-space.
"Laušić!"
Hearing his teammate's warning, Laušić, drenched in sweat, responded without looking, "I'm on him!"
Then Božić yelled, "The flank! Someone's overlapping!"
Laušić looked up in confusion.
At that moment, Suker gently pushed the ball ahead to the left.
"Nice!"
Srna shouted in admiration as he darted forward, accelerating down the line.
"Ohhh~~~ Dinamo Zagreb attacking down the left again! Fullback Srna overlapping and sending in a cross!! Can Davor Šuker challenge for the header?"
Davor Šuker wasn't known for his aerial game, but he managed to make contact with the ball.
Given his position, all he could do was flick it backward.
The ball landed in a gap at the edge of the penalty area.
Duimović arrived in a burst, caught the bouncing ball and slammed a low shot.
The ball curved along the grass, threaded through the crowd, and nestled into the bottom-right corner of the goal.
"Goal!!! Another one!!!"
"Duimović!!! A cool finish! That angle was razor-sharp!"
"And Srna's cross was pinpoint!"
"A perfect team move by Dinamo Zagreb's young players!"
"Vukojević intercepted, Modrić initiated the attack, Suk drew defenders and played the pass, Srna overlapped and crossed, Davor Šuker headed it back, and Duimović finished with a bang!"
"The whole sequence was fast and deadly. This is Bešić's answer to the critics! Fantastic!!"
Clap clap clap clap clap!!!!!!!——
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!!!!——
The Dinamo Zagreb fans were ecstatic.
Watching these young men in blue charge forward for their club.
Their graceful movement, relentless energy, and passionate shouting filled the stadium with the vibe of youth—making even the fans feel years younger.
"Aaaahhh~~~ That shot was so damn cool!!"
Suker leaped onto Duimović's back.
He was jealous!
Duimović chuckled.
"You're not hogging all the spotlight today!"
"Bull! Let me kick your ass to vent!"
"Why should I let you?!"
"Score a goal, get a butt kick!"
"Then why not kick Davor Šuker too?"
Laughing, Vukojević ran over, pushed Duimović down a bit.
"Why argue—just do it!"
Standing near the corner flag, Suker shouted, "One, two, three—go!"
They all gave Duimović a light kick, sending him tumbling forward onto the turf in front of the fans.
Just right for the camera to capture his jersey number.
Number 6 – Duimović!
Suker and the others stood back, not stepping forward—leaving the stage to Duimović.
Sunshine, youth, dazzling smiles, and that spirited look on the boy's face.
The sun wasn't too harsh that day, but for Dinamo Zagreb fans, it felt like these young players were glowing.
The applause didn't stop.
The fans gave it up for these passionate, youthful boys—and for the two brilliant goals.
On the bench, Mandžukić watched his teammates celebrate freely.
But inside, he wasn't happy at all.
Suker and the others had made a spectacular debut, earning recognition and applause.
But he was still on the bench.
At that moment, Mandžukić was filled with anxiety.
He clenched his fists tightly. He wanted in—he wanted to be part of it.
He didn't want to be left behind by Suker and the others. He had to push forward.
Even if his path was rougher and steeper, he would face it head-on!