Chapter 343: All of Croatia United as One

Cheers echoed again and again throughout Maksimir Stadium.

The camera panned across the stands—Croatian fans in eccentric outfits, their faces painted in the colors of the national flag, shouting with excitement nonstop.

Their opponent may have been strong, but Croatia was no pushover either.

These were young men burdened with high expectations, ones who had already created miracles before. That's why the Croatian people trusted them deeply.

WAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH——

The cheers suddenly surged to a roar.

The camera zoomed in on the center circle—Croatia kicked off first.

As soon as Šuker and Mandžukić took the kick-off, they sprinted forward.

"The match has begun! The match has begun! The third round of the Euro 2008 qualifiers—Croatia vs. England!"

"This is a pivotal match in Group E. The winner will claim the top spot!"

"From the start, Croatia is showing calm and composed ball control."

The screen showed Šuker.

He looked side to side, dropping back toward the center line to receive the ball.

"Šuker is positioned on the left flank again. Just as Bešić predicted, he's dropping back to support buildup play!"

Šuker made a lateral pass to Srna on the overlap.

But Srna quickly ran into a block.

"Back pass!"

Šuker ran in to support.

Srna passed it back, and Šuker, instead of trapping it, pulled it toward the right while keeping himself in motion, giving the English players no chance to body him.

Šuker cut into the middle and stopped sharply to create space.

Both flanks—Srna and Rakitić—were already getting into position.

But instead of passing wide, Šuker made a direct through pass to Mandžukić.

Mandžukić suddenly broke free from behind, using his body to shield the ball from Campbell and nudging it sideways.

But the touch was a bit soft.

Šuker surged forward and managed to control it, then passed it out to Rakitić.

Rakitić was smart—he passed it back immediately to retain possession.

Croatia kept probing, trying to draw out the English defense.

"Don't get dragged around—hold your positions!"

Gerrard glanced at Šuker and shouted forward.

From the get-go, Croatia was on the front foot.

England started pressing higher up the field.

Wright-Phillips charged toward Modrić, but the latter faked with a shoulder dip, leaving Phillips wrong-footed.

Modrić nudged the ball past and darted the other way.

Breaking free, he passed to Dujmović.

"Watch Šuker!"

Gerrard shouted while positioning himself between Dujmović and Šuker.

Just when everyone thought Dujmović would pass, he instead pushed the ball forward and surged ahead.

Gerrard stepped up to challenge, but before he got there, Dujmović fired a rocket from about 25 meters out.

Boom!

The shot had immense power—like a cannonball.

"It's on target!"

Šuker's eyes lit up as he turned to watch the goal.

Clang! The ball slammed off the crossbar and went out of bounds.

"Awwwwww~~~"

Dujmović beat his chest in frustration.

That could've been a worldie!

"Dujmović with a long-range effort—oh, that was a beauty! Just a tad lower and it would've been in!"

"The power and suddenness of that shot caught England's keeper Carson completely off guard."

"If it had dipped just a bit more…"

Croatia regrouped quickly after the attempt.

"Turn around! Track back! Get ready to challenge!"

Vukojević shouted to remind his teammates.

Šuker and others quickly turned and dropped back.

England sent the ball down the right in hopes of building up an attack.

"Press them!!"

A voice shouted. The next second, Šuker and his teammates sprang into action, pressing hard into England's half.

"Damn it!"

Gerrard nervously passed the ball back, clearly under pressure.

Simply put, he wasn't made for the "finer" tasks under high pressing. In these moments, he struggled to lift his head and look forward.

Gerrard's long passes and distribution were excellent—

But Croatia didn't give him any time to raise his head.

He received the ball again, under pressure from Rakitić and Mandžukić. Gerrard spun and swung the ball sideways—

It slipped right between Mandžukić's legs, heading toward Wright-Phillips.

"Safe ball! Just play it safe! That was too risky!"

England keeper Carson shouted in panic.

A loss of possession in Gerrard's zone would've been disastrous.

Wright-Phillips turned to receive and scanned the field.

But just as he turned, he saw a red-and-white figure two meters in front of him—intercepting the ball.

"Šuker! Interception!"

Klaasvić shouted.

Croatian fans erupted in cheers again.

WAAAAAAAHHHHH——

ŠUKER!!!!!!!——

Šuker controlled the ball, made a slight adjustment, then leaned back into Wright-Phillips.

With natural strength, he held off the challenge and burst forward.

"Šuker breaks free!"

"He's going down the channel!"

Davor Šuker and coach Bešić shouted the same words.

Šuker drove into the channel.

At the same time, Srna, Mandžukić, Rakitić, Dujmović, and Modrić all moved along different lines to pierce the English defense.

The sudden counter overwhelmed England's back line.

"Both wings are occupied!"

"The center too!"

"Watch the top of the box!"

"Modrić! Modrić is wide open!"

Just then, Šuker passed centrally. Modrić controlled the ball and, with no pressure, looked up.

Before any defender could close down, he shot.

The ball zipped straight through the legs of both Gerrard and Richards toward the goal.

Though the angle was straight, the speed and surprise made it dangerous.

Carson dropped quickly, stuck out a leg, and deflected the ball with his shin.

Campbell cleared it away instantly.

"Don't just stand there—get back!!"

Campbell roared toward his teammates.

Clearly, Croatia's twin attacks had rattled them.

Right after kickoff, two shots on target—it was enough to make English fans and commentators nervous.

"This isn't looking good. Croatia is dictating possession and pressure—and those two shots were top quality!"

The English commentator sounded anxious.

Anyone would panic after two near-goals like that.

Especially when Croatia looked so sharp.

"Good! Great job!" Bilic shouted enthusiastically.

Two waves of pressure—Croatia's morale surged.

Ugh!

A retching sound rang out.

Šuker turned around suddenly.

He saw Dujmović making gagging motions.

Šuker: "???"

Just two sprints and he's winded?

But Dujmović pointed at Joe Cole and shook his head.

"That guy has terrible body odor!"

Šuker: "..."

Those two attacks sent the stadium into a frenzy.

Every Croatian fan was on their feet, arms raised, shouting at the top of their lungs.

"Flames! Flames! Flames! All of Croatia as one!"

"Flames! Flames! Flames! All of Croatia as one!"

"Flames! Flames! Flames! All of Croatia as one!"

The stadium DJ pushed the atmosphere even higher.

The sound system boomed with chants.

"This is—"

CROATIA!——

"This is—"

MAKSIMIR!——

"FLAMES! FLAMES! FLAMES!"ALL OF CROATIA AS ONE!——

"Let us—"

FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!

Tens of thousands of fans raised their arms, clapping rhythmically, creating a thunderous BOOM BOOM BOOM.

They stomped—the ground itself seemed to tremble.

And in this deafening frenzy, Croatia launched another wave of furious attacks.