Chapter 336: Are You Guys Even Capable or Not?

September 21

2006/2007 Serie A season, Matchday 3: AC Milan at home vs. Ascoli.

In the players' tunnel, Suk kept tugging at the inner lining of his shorts.

It was just too itchy!

That's what you get for shaving—newly grown stubble that's prickly and irritating.

Kaká, Gattuso, and Pirlo were huddled together plotting again.

Suker rolled his eyes in annoyance.

These three jokers were obviously scheming something.

In the previous match, Suker scored a goal, and Seedorf netted one as well.

Their victory secured, but since Kaká and Pirlo didn't score, they didn't get to show off their slogans printed on the inner linings of their undershorts.

Now, they'd come up with a new one:

"Go check out Suker's underwear ad!"

Kaká returned from the huddle, and Suker asked, "Done conspiring?"

Kaká blinked innocently. "We weren't conspiring."

Suker rolled his eyes. "So, what's the new slogan? Not the '19-year-old boy' one anymore?"

"You already knew?" Kaká looked surprised.

Suker sighed and shook his head.

Could they at least be more subtle with their pranks?

"You'll find out if you score today," Kaká said with a smile.

Suker: "Why didn't you show it during the Champions League match?"

Kaká: "They said it's better to embarrass you only within Italy—not all over Europe."

Suker blinked, half amused, half speechless.

"Well, thanks a lot!"

"Welcome to the third round of the 2006/2007 UEFA Champions League—AC Milan versus Ascoli!"

"Milan has won their first two matches of the season. Can they continue their momentum?"

"Meanwhile, all eyes are on Suker!"

"Three goals in two rounds of Serie A."

"Last match, Milan edged out Parma with a 75th-minute goal from Suker. Can he do it again today?"

At that moment, players from both sides started to enter the pitch.

From the press box, journalist Zhang Kai began snapping photos rapidly.

Behind him, a deafening roar of the crowd surged like a tidal wave.

Zhang Kai felt goosebumps all over—it was an emotional surge one could only experience at a top club's home ground.

This was the San Siro, the fortress of AC Milan.

As Zhang Kai took photos of the Milan lineup, his mind wandered back to a certain interview.

Two weeks had passed, but one sentence—"Good luck" in fluent Chinese—kept echoing in his mind.

He didn't believe he misheard.

Someone definitely said it—just no one else caught it.

Who could it be?

Suker?

But Suker was a Croatian orphan—why would he know Chinese?

Zhang Kai couldn't figure it out, but the mystery nagged at him.

Match time: 31 minutes. Score: 0–0.

"Ascoli's defending well—they've dropped deep to block Milan's shots inside the box, and are effectively neutralizing Suker's impact!"

"Clearly, Ascoli came prepared—they're aiming for at least a draw here."

Pirlo tried a long-range shot.

The ball rocketed off his foot like a missile toward the goal.

Ascoli's keeper was ready—he parried it away.

Corner for Milan.

Pirlo stepped up to take it.

"Watch the near post! Stay on Seedorf!"

"Don't lose Sukeer!"

The ball was launched into the box, and Ascoli's packed defense managed to clear it—thanks to Nastase.

"Watch the second ball!"

Ascoli's players rushed out to press.

But Pirlo had already secured the second ball—he controlled it smoothly.

The defenders quickly halted their press, wary of leaving their box.

"Hold your positions!"

The Ascoli center-back barked orders.

Pirlo nudged the ball, looking for an opening.

But with defenders crowded in, there was no room for a through ball.

"Pirlo!"

Suker suddenly popped up on the left corner of the penalty area, calling for the pass.

The ball came his way.

Suker received it and glanced toward the center, adjusting the ball in front of him, feinting a cross.

"Mark up! Watch your men!"

Nastase's shouts echoed across the field.

"Close him down!"

Ascoli's fullback stepped up—but Suker slid the ball sideways and began to dribble laterally across the edge of the box.

"Oh no!"

Ascoli's coach's heart sank.

"The Suker Corridor—is he going to dribble through or cut inside for a shot?"

Ascoli's defenders dared not dive in—they feared Suker would burst into the box.

But as they hesitated, Suker had already set himself up.

With his left arm raised for balance, he curled the ball with his right foot.

A perfect curler!

The ball flew in a graceful arc toward the top right corner.

The shot was quick—instinctive.

By the time Ascoli's goalkeeper reacted, it was too late.

The ball had already hit the back of the net.

Swoosh!

It brushed the net with a satisfying snap.

After 40 minutes of deadlock, Suker broke it with a stunning curler.

WHOOOOOOOOAAAAA——

The San Siro erupted.

A tidal wave of cheers thundered through the stadium.

Suker raced to the corner flag, sliding on his knees and pumping his fists in celebration.

His Milan teammates quickly rushed over.

"Oh My God! Suker!"

"Hahaha! I knew he'd pull it off!"

"The moment he shaped up for the shot, I started celebrating!"

Milan's players swarmed Suker, ecstatic.

They'd spent 40 minutes trying to break down Ascoli's turtle-shell defense.

Finally, Suker's moment of brilliance cracked it open.

Ascoli's hopes of holding Milan to a draw were crushed.

"Holy crap!!——"

Back in the press box, Zhang Kai clutched his head.

His seat was perfectly positioned behind Ascoli's goal, slightly to the right—giving him a prime view of the goal.

From Suker's move, feint, to the shot—it was flawless.

Every action was deceptive, the shot incredibly fluid and precise.

Suker pumped his fist and headed back to Milan's half with his teammates.

The home fans showered him with applause.

Suker clapped back in acknowledgment as he retreated.

"Are you guys even capable or not?!" Gattuso shouted at Kaká and Pirlo, pointing at his own chest.

"If not, I'm going up to score!"

Kaká rolled his eyes.

As if scoring was that easy.

Ascoli had parked the bus—Suker had seized one precious chance and curled it in.

Gattuso? With that shooting accuracy? He couldn't score to save his life.

Suker's goal broke the deadlock.

But Milan still couldn't completely dismantle Ascoli's defense.

No matter—Milan were already ahead, and that was enough.

In the 60th minute, Suker was subbed off.

Ancelotti had no intention of playing Sukerr for full 90 minutes this season.

Score a goal, stabilize the game, then rest.

With only one competition to focus on, Suker had to be used sparingly.

Fortunately, Gilardino was returning from recovery soon and would be able to share the load.

After Suker's exit, Milan focused on defense.

Ascoli stuck to their counter-attacking strategy.

Milan didn't press—just managed the clock.

In the end, after 90 minutes, AC Milan beat Ascoli 1–0.

That marked three consecutive wins in the league—and they'd finally pulled their points total back into positive numbers.

"Serie A Round 3 concludes. With Suker's goal, Milan secure another win."

"Suker now has four goals this season—scoring in all three league matches—his efficiency driving Milan's attack and form."

"With four goals, Suker currently leads the scoring chart!"

"Congratulations to Milan on another victory!"