Chapter 318: Old Teammates! Old Rivals!

"Ohhhh~~~~ Suker's worldie!!!"

"That shot reminds me of Davor Šuker's iconic curler from the left edge of the box back in his Arsenal days. Same angle, but Suker's technique today was even more refined."

"Unparalleled ball sense and exquisite shooting technique—Suker has an endless arsenal of finishing options!"

"Suker has already netted a brace in the first half!"

"Croatia leads Turkey 3–1!!!"

On the sidelines, head coach Bilic was already sprinting in excitement.

He was more fired up than the players on the pitch, itching to run over and celebrate with them.

The Croatian fans in the stands were equally ecstatic, barely able to contain themselves.

This newly reassembled Croatian national team was more offensively dynamic than they had ever imagined.

The previous sense of "lack of firepower up front" was nowhere to be found.

Suker and Mandzukic relentlessly attacked the defensive line.

Rakitic worked the flanks tirelessly, and Modric also made frequent forward runs.

Croatia's overall offensive threat had become truly formidable.

But, of course, the joy didn't last forever.

After scoring their third goal, both teams made wholesale substitutions.

It was a friendly match, after all—not a competitive fixture—so the substitutes needed their opportunities too.

Both sides essentially swapped out their entire lineups.

Turkey played a little trick by keeping the outstanding Tunçay on the field, hoping he could drive their attack forward.

But even after the changes, Croatia's defense remained rock solid, giving Turkey no real chance to mount a comeback.

Still, in the 88th minute, Turkey managed to score from a set piece, pulling one back.

When the final whistle blew after 90 minutes, Croatia defeated Turkey 3–2.

It was a home victory in this warm-up match, and for Suker and the others, it marked a near-perfect debut performance.

Every newly added player had something to show for themselves.

This only raised Croatian fans' expectations for the upcoming Euro qualifiers.

Of course, Croatia had one more friendly to go, but this next one would be away from home.

They were set to travel to Bosnia and Herzegovina to face the Bosnian national team.

July 25th — Sarajevo National Stadium.

Friendly: Croatia vs. Bosnia.

The match was in the 65th minute.

The score: Bosnia 1 – 3 Croatia.

Bosnia's squad had also seen some reinforcements this season.

They had called up young players from the Russian league such as Suker Mazic, Skolk, and Boame.

The national team had improved to a certain degree.

But when facing the world-renowned "Checkerboard Brigade," they were still very much on the back foot.

"Fall back! Fall back!"

Suker Mazic kept shouting at his teammates.

Sweating profusely, he was playing this friendly with the utmost seriousness.

But inside, Suker Mazic was deeply frustrated.

Even with Croatia's star duo Suker and Modric absent, Mandzukic and Rakitic still managed to bag three goals.

That was hard for him to accept.

So much had changed in four years.

Once upon a time, Suker and Modric were playing in the Bosnian league, looking up to him.

Now, four years later, he couldn't even see the backs of their jerseys—they were too far ahead.

"Bullshit!"

Suker Mazic cursed out loud.

Skolk and Boame were equally frustrated.

Unlike Mazic, they had once been teammates with Suker and Modric—though back then, they were just substitutes.

Four years had passed, and they didn't want to embarrass themselves in front of their former teammates.

Yet even without Suker and Modric, Croatia had them on the ropes, thoroughly outclassed.

At the 70-minute mark, Croatia made substitutions.

Suker and Modric were standing on the touchline, ready to come on.

While stretching, Modric asked, "Should we go easy on them?"

"Go easy my ass!" Suker snapped. "Let's smash them!"

Suker didn't believe in mercy—it wasn't real respect.

When Mazic, Sterk, and Boame saw Suker and Modric entering, they froze momentarily, faces turning grim.

"All the way back!" shouted Bosnia's captain.

Mazic and the others quickly retreated.

As much as they wanted to show off in front of their old rivals (and old teammates), they had to face the reality of the talent gap.

Suker jogged to the left flank and greeted Skolk.

"Long time no see!"

Sterk gave a bitter smile and waved back.

"Don't go easy on us," he said firmly.

Suker shrugged. "I wouldn't miss a chance to beat up my old teammates."

Skolk grinned wryly.

Yup, that's exactly the kind of person Suker was.

Meanwhile, Modric took his spot in midfield.

Looking at Mazic, he said, "Good luck!"

Mazic turned his head and glared, thinking Modric was mocking him.

But Modric was being genuine—it just didn't sound that way.

Whistle!

The match resumed.

With Suker and Modric back on, Croatia's attacking tempo kicked up several notches.

Especially on the left wing—Suker's dribbling runs constantly put Bosnia's defense under heavy pressure.

"I can't keep up!"

"Cover him! Someone cover him!"

"I'm coming!"

Skolk had no choice but to drop back and join the defense.

Suker, seeing the flank sealed off, didn't force a dribble. He turned and passed to Modric.

Croatia's offensive rhythm was lightning-quick.

With Suker and Modric in, the speed and fluency reached a whole new level.

Bosnia's players were having trouble keeping up.

Even Mazic, despite his experience in Russia, was getting dizzy.

Wham!

Boame slid in recklessly, bringing down Rakitic.

The referee awarded Croatia a free kick just outside the box.

Suker, Mandzukic, and others moved into the penalty area.

Modric stepped up to take the set piece.

Bosnia pulled everyone back to defend.

Mazic, tall and strong, took charge of marking inside the box.

"Mark Mandzukic! I'll take Suker!" he shouted.

Suker glanced at the nearly 195 cm tall Mazic beside him.

This guy used to be a nightmare to deal with due to his height and strength.

But now? Things had changed.

Whump!

Modric delivered the kick.

Mazic quickly analyzed the trajectory.

"Middle! I've got this spot!"

He stepped forward.

But then—Suker suddenly changed direction, darting forward.

In the crowd, he leapt high.

Mazic's jaw dropped as he watched Suker soar, arching his body mid-air—

A powerful header—the ball flew straight into the net!

Suker landed, and without a glance back, ran off with his Croatian teammates to celebrate.

Mazic remained rooted to the spot, dazed.

Suker had scored—with a header.

In the one area Mazic prided himself on most—he'd lost.

Disappointment washed over him like a wave. The psychological blow was enormous.

With the two warm-up matches concluded, Croatia's Euro 2008 qualifying preparations wrapped up.

The players were headed back to their clubs, returning again in September and October for the qualifiers.

Two matches, two wins—a strong start for Croatia.

After the match, Suker, Modric, Skolk, and Boame gathered to catch up.

"Didn't expect to see you two in the national team," Suker said.

"Back then you were just benchwarmers!"

Skolk winced. "Can you not bring up the bench again?"

Suker chuckled. "Hits a nerve?"

Skolk shot back, "Not as painful as watching you win the Champions League."

Suker: "That's called envy!"

Skolk laughed. "Don't think I won't beat you up!"

Suker: "You couldn't then, and you definitely can't now!"

"What's this? A fight?!"

Mandzukic suddenly charged over like a raging bull.

Suker waved him off. "We're joking!"

Mandzukic nodded and turned to glare at Skolk.

Skolk smiled awkwardly.

"Your teammates..."

Suker shrugged. "Same as you—a few screws loose."

Skolk: "…"

Elsewhere, Boame was talking to Modric.

"How's life at Manchester United?"

Modric replied, "The physicality is intense. Even though the Bosnian league is tough, the Premier League is way faster. Sometimes I can't even react in time."

Boame sighed, "I envy you guys already playing in top leagues—and for elite clubs too."

Modric smiled. "If you work hard, you can get there too."

"Forget it," Boame shook his head.

He wasn't giving up entirely, but he knew his limitations.

He lacked the talent of players like Suker and Modric and wasn't going to suddenly improve.

Boame added, "For Euro qualifying, you guys are in Group E, we're in Group C."

Modric nodded. "Our threats are England and Russia. Beat those two, and we have a great shot at qualifying."

Boame fell silent.

That's the difference in perspective and ability.

His team was just hoping to hold off Hungary for a draw.

Meanwhile, Modric and Suker were targeting England and Russia.

Boame didn't even dare think about those matchups.

He'd be happy to avoid a blowout…