Chapter 190: Catching Up to Kaka
Suker and the team were wrapping up their lap of appreciation.
Even though they had lost the match, the fans of Dinamo Zagreb showed no signs of disappointment.
They clapped fervently, applauding the efforts of these young players.
Throughout their Champions League journey, the fans had witnessed the boys' remarkable performances.
They never backed down or cowered before strong teams. Instead, they drew their swords and met the challenge head-on.
How could one not love such a group of fearless youths?
"Dinamo Zagreb 2:4 AC Milan. They lost the match and also suffered their first Champions League defeat," the commentator announced.
"But," Kraushevich's voice grew spirited, "this is just the beginning. They're still young, and their future is full of promise."
"I believe in the near future, once these young men have matured, they'll deliver even greater performances."
"And of course, the match isn't over yet. Although it's extremely difficult to beat AC Milan at the San Siro, these lads will give it their all!"
"Come on, Dinamo Zagreb! Don't hold back—shine brightly on the pitch!"
Clap clap clap clap clap!
Amid the thunderous applause, Suker walked toward the tunnel.
Just then, someone stepped into his path.
A plump man with uneven eyebrows, dressed in a black suit—Carlo Ancelotti—stood before him and said, "That was a fantastic match."
Suker understood, as Ancelotti had a translator beside him.
"You were excellent out there," Ancelotti added.
Suker beamed."Thank you for your kind words!"
"Interested in playing for Milan?" Ancelotti asked bluntly.
Suker responded just as bluntly: "Yes!"
Ancelotti was taken aback—he hadn't expected such a direct reply.
But he liked it.
He smiled and patted Suker on the shoulder.
"I'll bring you to the San Siro."
"We'll be there for the next match," Suker said with a clenched fist. "It's not over yet—we'll see who wins!"
Ancelotti chuckled and nodded. "I look forward to seeing what you do at the San Siro."
With that, he turned and disappeared into the tunnel.
Suker headed straight for the locker room.
"Ahhhh, we couldn't stop Shevchenko!"
"Same with Kaka!"
"Tackle him! If you don't take him down, there's no way to stop him!"
"If I do, I'll get a red card!"
"Totally worth it!"
"Screw you! I still want to play the next match!"
The team bantered excitedly. Despite the loss, they showed no signs of discouragement.
Perhaps deep down, they knew this match was always going to be a tough one.
That first-half lead had already proved their worth.
And they still had the second leg to go.
Clap clap!
Besic clapped his hands. "Boys, I'm glad to see that the loss didn't break your spirit."
Pranjić muttered, "Wasn't expecting a win anyway."
Besic glanced at him but didn't respond. Instead, he continued, "Next match, I don't want you to feel pressure. I've said it before—this is your moment to enjoy the stage, enjoy the game. Don't hold back. Make some noise at the San Siro!"
The team was instantly energized.
Facing AC Milan at the San Siro—what a dream!
April 13, Milan, Italy – San Siro Stadium
At Italy's most iconic stadium, under the watchful eyes of tens of thousands of AC Milan fans and red-and-black faithful...
Dinamo Zagreb launched wave after wave of attacks.
31st minute.
Current score: AC Milan 2 – 1 Dinamo Zagreb.
"Push up! Press forward!"
"Don't let their back line come out!"
Suker directed Mandžukić to hold the back line while he drifted diagonally back.
As Modrić passed him the ball, Suker received it with his back to goal, nudged it to the right. Gattuso immediately pounced, but Suker spun and pulled the ball back in one fluid motion.
He created space and now faced the goal.
Suker's eyes burned with intensity.
Gattuso gritted his teeth and lunged again.
Suker nudged the ball left, baiting Gattuso forward.
Then, in a dazzling move, he flicked his ankle and pulled off a stunning inside drag.
"Elastico!!"
Suker executed a perfect replica of the Elastico, nutmegging Gattuso and slipping past on the other side.
"He's through! Suker!!"
Commentator Kraushevich shouted with excitement.
Facing AC Milan's defensive line, Suker suddenly curved the ball with the outside of his foot.
Mandžukić and Valjević were both drawing defenders inward—Stam and Maldini collapsed in.
Suker's pass curled through the narrow space between them.
Maldini reached out a leg—just short.
The ball rolled into the open space on the right wing.
There, Srna was charging forward at full speed!
"Oh my God!! Rainbow pass!! Suker's signature move!!"
The Italian commentator clutched his head.
Even the home fans were stunned.
Anyone who saw that pass would be amazed.
Srna caught up to the ball on the wing and whipped in a cross.
Mandžukić leapt, smashed the ball down.
Boom!
The ball bounced off the ground, slipped through the keeper's hands, and flew into the net.
"GOAL!!! Dinamo Zagreb equalizes!"
"At the San Siro, against AC Milan, they've scored twice!"
"Suker scored one goal and initiated this brilliant attack—his efficiency remains exceptional!"
After scoring, Suker and Mandžukić sprinted toward the stands. Mandžukić carried Suker on his back, roaring in celebration.
The small group of traveling Zagreb fans erupted in applause.
"We can't pull away!"
"Can't contain Suker!"
The AC Milan players were visibly frustrated.
Suker's movement was so fluid, so unpredictable—dangerous at every turn.
He could time his runs perfectly off the back line, drop deep to orchestrate attacks, and deliver those wicked, curving passes.
That pass that "bends" had become a spectacle of the Champions League.
In the Italian broadcast booth, the commentators were in a frenzy.
Dinamo Zagreb's resilience stunned them—they kept equalizing.
They had twice fallen behind and twice bounced back, and it made one commentator uneasy.
It felt like a piece of gum stuck in your hair—annoying and impossible to shake off.
While the other commentator was animated, Red-and-Black faithful Claudio Crudeli sat still, staring at the screen.
Unlike his usual emotional outbursts—no yelling, no bottle-throwing—he was unusually quiet.
He just kept staring at Suker.
"He needs a red-and-black jersey," Crudeli muttered. "He deserves that kit."
"What?" the commentator asked.
Crudeli shook his head. "Nothing."
"You're quiet today," the commentator said.
"Because I know Milan will win," Crudeli smiled. "Dinamo Zagreb's kids are great—but they still lack that foundation. Milan will win."
Just then, on the pitch, Kaka started driving at Dinamo Zagreb's defense.
Crudeli smiled. "Look! Kaka's started his run. No one can catch him—"
His eyes widened.
In his mind, once Kaka got going, no one could catch him. He was a blur, leaving everyone behind.
But now—a blue jersey was catching up.
"My God!! Suker is chasing down Kaka—he's gaining ground!"
On the pitch, amid gasps from Milan fans...
Suker was sprinting full-speed, steadily closing the gap on Kaka.
He caught up, forced him wide.
"Go! Get him!"
Without hesitation, Suker called teammates to help.
Kaka saw this, made a quick pass toward the center.
But Suker lunged—intercepted it!
"Suker! Interception!!"
He turned, shielded the ball from Kaka, and toe-poked it to Modrić.
"Go, Luka!!"
Modrić took off with the ball.
The blue wave surged again toward AC Milan.
"These mad little devils!"
Seeing six players flood the box, trying to recreate their previous goal, Maldini cursed under his breath.
Vukojević received Modrić's pass and blasted a shot.
Boom!!
"Dida!! A clutch save!! Maldini sends it to Pirlo—Dinamo's midfield is wide open!!"
"Milan counterattack!!"
Roaaaaaar!
The crowd erupted.
Pirlo fed the ball to Kaka again, who now had space.
This time, Suker was too far away to catch up.
Kaka sprinted forward.
Facing a double-team, he sliced the ball through to the middle.
Inzaghi made a diagonal run!
"Filippo Inzaghi!!"
Inzaghi got there just before the keeper and poked the ball...
It slipped under the goalie's arm and into the net.
44th minute. Just before halftime, AC Milan scored again.
Halftime score: 3–2.
At the San Siro, on Italian soil, Dinamo Zagreb and AC Milan were delivering a goal-fest.