Chapter 395: Tomi! Shoot!

Suker was charging down the wing with the ball, heading straight toward the opposition's penalty area.

On the sidelines, assistant coach Van stoyak clapped his hands vigorously.

"Go! Go! Keep pushing! Don't give them a breather!"

"Come on, Suker!"

"Show them what you've got!"

Van stoyak kept urging Suker to press forward and break through.

This undoubtedly increased the pressure on North Macedonia's defense.

But Bilic watched with his heart in his throat.

Seeing Suker repeatedly taken down and fouled, it felt like someone was squeezing his heart—it was painful to watch.

"Take a breather! Let's ease up a bit!" Bilic muttered.

Van stoyak insisted, "No letting up! Keep charging, keep the pressure on!"

Bilic's face was filled with concern. Suker was Croatia's treasure—was it really necessary to push him to the limit like this?

But Van stoyak was in charge of the match and tactical arrangements; that had been agreed upon beforehand.

Bilic had no right to interfere.

All he could do was watch with aching heart as Suker kept crashing into the opponent's defensive line.

Once again, Suker was taken down near the top of the penalty area, two defenders sandwiching and knocking him over.

"He can't go on like this!"

Bilic immediately reacted.

But Van stoyak waved it off. "It's fine."

So annoying!

I coached this guy for a year in the Bosnian league where elbows and stomps are the norm—he didn't get injured even once. This is nothing.

But Bilic didn't know that, so Van stoyak had to explain patiently.

"Suker is extremely resilient. He may not look strong, but he's very good at handling physical contact. If he's truly in danger, he knows how to protect himself. There's nothing to worry about."

"Besides, with North Macedonia's compact defense, only Suker and Rakitic can try dribbling breakthroughs to earn set pieces."

"Modric can then take those free kicks to build rhythm, and with Duimovic's long-range shots, that's our tactical focus for this match!"

"All we need is one goal!"

Van stoyak raised one finger. "One goal, and we win this game."

Hearing this, Bilic finally exhaled and said, "Alright, but he needs a breather."

"Now it's Duimovic's turn to shine," Van stoyak responded.

Suker's relentless attacks had already pulled the defense's attention toward him.

It was time for Duimovic to step up.

At that moment, Duimovic was ready and waiting.

He stood centrally, awaiting Modric's free kick.

Before taking the shot, Modric scanned the packed penalty area and the watchful opposing goalkeeper, struggling to find a good angle.

As the whistle blew, Suker suddenly broke free from the crowd.

"Pass to me!"

Modric immediately pushed the ball forward.

Suker received it with his back to goal, drawing three defenders toward him.

Without needing to turn around, he knew he had created space.

But instead of passing right away, he waited until the defenders closed in, then tapped the ball toward Duimovic.

"Tomi! Shoot!"

Suker shouted as he was taken down by three defenders.

On the other side, Duimovic adjusted slightly and unleashed a powerful shot.

It came from just outside the penalty area, skimming low across the ground, slipping between a defender's legs, and flying toward the far post.

Duimovic craned his neck, watching anxiously.

Clang! The ball hit the post and bounced out.

"Damn it!"

Duimovic stomped in frustration.

So close!

But the chaos his shot created had thrown the penalty area into disarray.

Mandzukic, Suker, and Rakitic all scrambled for a follow-up.

Mandzukic, tall and strong, charged to the front.

With his left hand grabbing Robert's shorts and his right hand pushing against Nowitzki's chest, he held off both defenders while controlling the ball with his feet.

"Behind you! Is anyone there?!"

Suker yelled, "Pass the damn ball! I can't hold on much longer!"

Mandzukic used all his strength, shoved the two defenders aside, leaned forward, and backheeled the ball.

It slipped right through Nowitzki's legs and reached Suker.

"Hold your ground!"

Suker gritted his teeth, bracing his back against two players.

He was pushed and shoved, dragged along the grass, but as the ball reached him, he nudged it outward with the outside of his foot.

"Rakitic!"

He shouted and then collapsed to the ground.

Rakitic, under heavy pressure, swung his right leg at the ball.

But it struck a defender's foot and bounced out again.

The ball flew outside the penalty area amidst the chaos—right to Modric, waiting behind the play.

"Shoot!"

Rakitic shouted.

Modric faked a shot, drawing defenders toward him, then slid the ball sideways.

"Shit!"

Duimovic saw the ball rolling toward him again. He adjusted his stance.

This time, he smashed the ball hard.

It pierced through a gap in the defense and flew toward goal.

"Get in!"

Duimovic screamed in his heart.

If this didn't go in, the guys were going to kill him!

As if the football gods answered his plea, the ball deflected off the heel of a North Macedonian defender and swerved toward the right post.

Swoosh!

This time, it didn't hit the post—it slammed into the side netting.

"GOAL!!!!!!!!!!——"

Klaushivic stood up immediately and cheered.

Maksimir Stadium erupted in wild celebration.

29 minutes in, after relentless attacks and long shots, Croatia finally scored.

"Duimovic! He's netted his first goal for the national team—a brilliant low shot that deflected off North Macedonian defender Fred's heel and into the goal!"

"North Macedonia ultimately couldn't withstand Croatia's offensive onslaught. In the chaos, Croatia's young guns used their relentless spirit to break the deadlock!"

"Let's give them a thunderous round of applause and cheers!"

WAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH——

Clap clap clap clap clap!

The stadium was flooded with applause and celebration.

Croatia's constant pressure had finally paid off against North Macedonia's tight defense.

Duimovic's fourth long-range shot finally found the net, giving Croatia the lead.

"Well done!"

"Tomi! Great shot!"

"Damn it! If that didn't go in, I'd have beaten you up!"

Suker and the others mobbed Duimovic.

A big, happy grin stretched across Duimovic's face.

Scoring his first international goal and helping his team break the deadlock—he was overjoyed.

"North Macedonia defended bravely, but they couldn't keep the ball out forever. From the very start, Croatia had been hammering at the door—especially Duimovic, whose long-range efforts were consistently threatening. The fourth one finally smashed their defensive wall!"

"Of course, credit also goes to Bilic for the tactical plan. He's proven himself a competent and excellent head coach."

Bilic clapped on the sidelines, thrilled with the goal and full of praise for Vansterjak's tactical preparation.

It was Van stoyak who had proposed the plan involving Duimovic's long shots.

This improvised adjustment led to the goal.

With a 1–0 lead, Croatia now had control.

If North Macedonia kept defending, Croatia could run down the clock.

If they came forward to attack, Croatia could exploit the space and extend their lead.

After this goal, everything had changed.

Croatia's advantage had grown significantly.

And now, Bilic believed—they had what it took to win this match!