Chapter 203: Protagonist and The Support Roles

The aftereffects of Istanbul still linger.

It hasn't been long since that crushing defeat, and for AC Milan to fully recover from such a low state and the psychological shadow cast by it, they'll need even more time.

Judging by the current pre-season matches, the midfield seems sluggish as a whole.

Pirlo and Seedorf appear hesitant when handling the ball.

And when a midfielder can't decisively distribute the ball, the forwards receive even less support.

Pirlo is certainly an excellent midfielder, but he's only human. Just over two months ago, he experienced a humiliating loss, which deeply wounded him psychologically.

The team as a whole now plays with a lack of confidence.

Kaká isn't getting the ball up front, forcing him to drop deeper—and when Kaká drops back, the whole attacking line shifts back as well.

That only leads to further suppression.

It's not that AC Milan lacks capability—they just no longer play with confidence.

This was AC Milan's second pre-season match.

In the first one, against La Liga side Deportivo La Coruña, Suker started the game.

Thanks to Suker's orchestration in the attacking midfield, there were no major issues.

The team's offense flowed smoothly.

But in this match, with Suker on the bench, AC Milan's "Istanbul Syndrome" resurfaced.

Midfield tempo became sluggish, and they couldn't move the ball forward.

Kaká couldn't shoulder all the responsibilities of organizing, advancing, and delivering the final pass on his own.

Often, you could see Kaká running his heart out, but the team was clearly disjointed.

AC Milan stuck with a 4-3-1-2 formation in this friendly.

With the midfield struggling, Kaká—playing as the lone attacking midfielder—was naturally passive and isolated.

In the 55th minute, Stuttgart's star forward, Tomasson, blasted a long-range shot that pierced through AC Milan's backline.

Ancelotti immediately called for a halt.

"Suker!"

Ancelotti turned and called out.

Suker immediately got up. "Coming!"

He walked over to Ancelotti, who put an arm around his shoulder and said, "The game is a mess right now. We need to stabilize things. Drop deeper to help us control the midfield rhythm. Also, look for chances to feed the ball to Filippo. If there's a gap, feel free to make runs forward too!"

Suker turned to Ancelotti: "So, I'm replacing Shevchenko?"

Ancelotti nodded heavily.

Shevchenko might be AC Milan's main striker and a face of Serie A, but after the debacle in Istanbul and his transfer saga, his relationship with the club had cooled significantly.

They didn't hate each other, but Shevchenko's desire to leave was no secret.

Trust, once broken, is hard to rebuild.

Even if Shevchenko chose to stay and AC Milan still needed him, that wedge of doubt remained.

Everyone knew—he stayed not out of loyalty, but because his transfer fell through.

There was another turning point.

With Suker's arrival, Inzaghi seemed reinvigorated.

One was an "outsider" with baggage; the other, a "super sub."

Naturally, AC Milan knew how to weigh their options.

If Inzaghi could regain his past form and Suker performed as expected, Shevchenko might not just be benched—he'd be rotated out regularly.

Suker subbed in; Shevchenko came off.

As Suker stepped onto the pitch, Kaká quickly came over with a reminder.

"Their No. 3, Stranzl, is very aggressive on the press and physically strong. Watch out."

Suker grinned: "I love German defenders—slow turning, clumsy feet, rigid minds. Once I get a step on them, they're just lamp posts!"

Kaká grinned.

Say what you will, but Suker's footwork was slick and nimble—better than Kaká's in tight spaces.

"Suker!!"

Inzaghi waved at him and pointed in front of himself. The meaning was obvious:

Pass me the ball!

Lately, Inzaghi had become obsessed with Suker's passes.

Throughout his career, he'd never met a midfielder who understood him so well.

Every through ball, every pass—it was like Suker could read his mind. Perfectly in sync.

Suker's passes were more precise and comfortable than any other midfielder Inzaghi had played with.

On the other side, Stuttgart's players were looking increasingly grim.

Champions League Golden Boot winner. Croatia's super talent. Suker's exploits in the UCL were well-known.

They knew this guy would cause them serious trouble.

"Stay on him!"

Stranzl barked at his teammate Soldo.

Soldo nodded gravely.

Despite Suker's entry, AC Milan didn't change formation.

He partnered Inzaghi up top.

As Suker tucked his jersey into his shorts, Nesta grinned: "Ghost duo. Stuttgart's defenders are in for a nightmare!"

Maldini added: "Suker's not just a ghost!"

"Give it your all!"

Thud!

Gattuso punched Suker in the stomach.

Suker quickly tightened his abs.

Thud!

He bent forward in a shrimp-like stance. Gattuso hadn't hit hard, so it didn't hurt too much—

But it was annoying.

Suker steadied his stance and fired two quick punches into Gattuso's stomach.

Thud! Thud!

"Get wrecked!"

Gattuso didn't flinch. He just ruffled Suker's hair and walked off.

Suker shook out his hands and muttered: "Thick-skinned brute! He's a tank!"

On the sideline, Ancelotti and the coaching staff chuckled as they watched Suker easily bond with the rest of the team.

Suker had integrated faster than even Kaká.

Of course, that had a lot to do with Suker's performance in training.

A player's ability decides whether they belong in the circle—and Suker more than belonged.

He stood next to Inzaghi in the center circle.

Inzaghi immediately kicked off and charged forward.

Suker stayed half a step behind. After a back-pass, he didn't rush the defense but instead floated on the same line as Kaká, maintaining a near-but-not-too-close distance.

His head was constantly turning, scanning the field. He often dropped back to receive, but always made quick, one-touch passes—backwards or sideways.

When Pirlo got surrounded in midfield, he spotted Suker moving into position on the left flank and passed without hesitation.

The ball cut through the pressure and landed at Suker's feet.

Immediately, Suker found himself surrounded too.

Stuttgart's high press was aggressive—they wanted to disrupt AC Milan's midfield structure.

But this is AC Milan: four number 10s.

Suker nudged the ball sideways with his right foot and passed back to the supporting Seedorf. Then he darted into another open space.

Seedorf one-touched it right back into Suker's path.

Suker faked a pass, luring the opposing DM to block. Then with a quick drag and step, he created separation.

Now that he had space, things were easy.

Seedorf overlapped on the wing, Kaká was positioned to receive in the right channel, and Inzaghi made a diagonal run.

But Suker didn't pass. He dipped his shoulder and drove forward.

The defender caught up, but Suker stopped and cut the other way. The defender tried to pivot and retreat, but he lost balance.

Against a nimble player like Suker, he really was a lamp post.

Seeing the defender about to lose him, he lunged in desperation.

But that's what Suker wanted.

Another sidestep, another shift.

The defender missed and fell flat on his butt.

Suker strolled past, brushing dirt off himself.

"Beautiful!!"

"Triple direction change—this guy is so agile!"

"Midfield's wide open! Kaká, go!!"

Kaká sprinted up the middle. Seedorf and Inzaghi pulled defenders wide into the box.

That opened a perfect pocket for Suker.

"Someone get him!!"

Stranzl shouted.

Too late.

Suker reached the edge of the box and unleashed a thunderous left-footed strike.

The ball curved low, around the center-back and toward the left post.

With blistering spin, it bent mid-air and slammed into the back of the net.

As the ball hit the net—

Suker turned and raised his right hand.

"Woaah!!"

Inzaghi gasped.

Kaká's jaw dropped slightly.

Maldini clapped and laughed.

Ancelotti smiled and shook his head.

He didn't pass—he soloed.

But what a solo effort!

Looking at Suker's back, Ancelotti chuckled and said:

"Some people are born protagonists. Some are supporting actors. And some can be both."

"Suker is clearly the last type. At Dinamo Zagreb, he was the absolute centerpiece—tactics revolved around him. He was the shining star."

"A player like him can thrive even after switching teams."

"Most players, though, are best suited as supporting roles—workhorses, puzzle pieces in a system. They'll never be the core, but they're always valuable."

"The most awkward type is the one who can only be a star."

Ancelotti glanced at Shevchenko, speaking with deeper meaning: "Take them out of their system, away from familiar teammates, and they fade into the crowd."

"Paying big money for a 'core' player who ends up doing grunt work... that's a real headache."

Shevchenko kept his head down, silent.