Chapter 115: I Want Your Agent Contract

"Lost again!" Kalenovic looked at the scoreboard—3:2—and felt utterly disappointed. They had started the game brilliantly, but as the second half began, problems gradually appeared until the opponent completely turned the tables. It was really a bitter feeling. They had thought about this issue when designing their counter-tactics. Spending too much energy in the first half to press and restrain the opponent could lead to a collapse in the second half. However, they didn't expect the collapse to hit like an avalanche, catching them completely off guard. "Suker!" Suk was about to head back to the locker room when someone called him. Turning around, Kalenovic held out his jersey—it was a request to exchange jerseys. "Your performance was outstanding." Although opponents, Kalenovic had to admit that in these two matches, Suker was the key player whose excellent performance helped Dinamo Zagreb secure two victories. "Your performance was great too!" Suker smiled as they exchanged jerseys. Kalenovic had scored two goals against Dinamo Zagreb, serving as the top scorer; he had done his best. The two didn't talk much and soon separated. Back in the locker room, everyone was already cheering and celebrating. Besic signaled for silence: "Next match is the Croatian Cup; all substitutes prepare." The meaning was clear: the substitutes would play the Croatian Cup match. Dinamo Zagreb was focusing all efforts on chasing the league championship. Though winning the Croatian Cup also gave a chance to qualify for the Europa League qualifiers. But honestly, the old three major European cups (Champions League, Europa League, and the Cup Winners' Cup) had become a shadow of their former glory. Especially since the 1999/2000 season when UEFA decided to merge the Europa League and the Cup Winners' Cup and expanded the Champions League group stage slots, the Europa League's competitiveness and value sharply declined. Besic was chasing the Croatian league title and Champions League qualification. For him, that was the biggest goal this season, and everything else had to make way for it. The substitutes were eager to get ready, while the starters enjoyed the break. At this moment, Davor Suker suddenly approached. "Come to my house for dinner tomorrow!" Suker was surprised. It was the first time Davor Suker had invited him. "Just me?" "And Luka!" Suker looked at Modrić, who gave a slight nod. "I'll be there on time!" Davor Suker took good care of Suker; they had formed a strong bond, so Suker wouldn't refuse such an invitation. The next day, after training, Davor Suker drove Suker and Modrić to his villa. This time he drove a convertible Jeep Wrangler; three people inside felt spacious. Previously, the red Ferrari was too small for them to squeeze into. Along the way, Davor Suker chatted non-stop, with a slightly awkward expression. Modrić's eyes missed it, but Suker noticed immediately. Suker wasn't sure why Davor Suker acted like this, but guessed the answer would soon come. Davor Suker's villa was in the wealthy northern district of Zagreb, close to the city center but very quiet and extremely valuable land. Calling it a villa was almost an understatement; it was more like a small estate. It had a large yard and a four-story mansion. When the three arrived, two people were already at the gate. An older man around 50 and a younger one about 30. After they got out, Davor Suker pointed at the middle-aged man: "This is my agent, Zoran Mamich!" Then he pointed at the younger man: "This is Mamich's son, Zorancic!" "Hello, I'm Zorancic. I've watched your games; your performances are amazing!" Zorancic proactively extended his hand. Suker and Modrić shook hands out of courtesy. Suker sized up Zorancic. He was slender, wearing an oversized suit, very formal compared to their casual outfits. Suker looked back at Davor Suker. The latter cleared his throat and gestured toward the house: "Dinner's ready, let's eat first." The meal was uneasy. Mostly Davor Suker and Mamich chatted about old times; Suker and Modrić couldn't join in. They didn't even understand the events of that era. Zorancic tried actively to talk with Suk and Modrić. But Modrić's reserved nature prevented him from talking much in such situations. Suker was more socially adept and acted warm and enthusiastic, not ignoring anyone. Though the dinner wasn't comfortable, they got through it. After finishing, Suker and Modrić prepared to leave. "Stay for some dessert?" Davor Suker looked at them awkwardly. Suker laughed: "Don't make it hard for you!" Davor Suker sighed, shaking his head quietly: "Mamich and I have a good relationship; he wants me to help arrange a meeting. It's hard to refuse." Suker waved his hand: "No need to refuse. It's just a meal." Mamich was a football agent; Suker and Modrić were talented players. The dinner's real purpose was clear. They said goodbye to Davor Suker and walked toward the estate's exit. "Mamich wants our agent contracts, so he asked Davor Suker to help make the connection," Suker explained. Modrić nodded: "No wonder it felt so awkward." Suker sighed: "We should get an agent, but let's eat first." Modrić rubbed his stomach: "I'm still hungry!" "Chinese restaurant?" "Let's go!" Just as they were about to leave the estate, urgent footsteps sounded behind them. "Wait!" Suk and Modrić turned. They saw Zorancic running toward them. "You guys walk fast! I just went to the bathroom, and you disappeared." Suker and Modrić exchanged a glance. "What do you want?" Zoranc: "How about grabbing coffee somewhere?" Suker blinked, said nothing. Modrić remained silent. Zoranc smiled awkwardly: "Okay, then... I want your agent contracts!" "You want our contracts?" Suker was surprised: "Not your father?" "He's preparing to retire. Being an agent means flying between countries, and he doesn't have the energy anymore. I'm taking over the agency now." Then Zoranc cleared his throat, seriously: "I sincerely invite you. My strength lies in my father's connections, the seniors like Davor Suker and Boban. I can leverage all of that." "You can't stay in Croatia forever." "Stop!" Suker suddenly interrupted and asked: "Did you drive here?" Zorancic nodded, confused. "I did!" "Let's go! Let's eat! You're paying!" Zorancic: "..." In the Chinese restaurant's private room, Suk and Modrić ate their fill. Zorancic stared blankly, looking anxious. He had been waiting a long time. Watching Suker take the last bite, wipe his mouth, Zorancic couldn't help but ask: "Can we talk now?" Suker nodded. Zoranc: "I'll drive; we can find a café." "No need!" Suk stopped him. "Let's talk here." Zorancic sat down, nodding. "First, your future. I'm very optimistic about you both. You won't stay in the Croatian league long; you will move to top European leagues. But you're unfamiliar with those leagues; we can provide much guidance and use our contacts to find clubs you want." "A good agent not only helps players get benefits but also knows how to market them. I'm confident in this." "Second, your commercial value!" Suker was somewhat surprised. At that time, commercialization wasn't widespread; commercial value and exposure weren't usually discussed by agents. Most agents were conservative, focused purely on football, not marketing. But hearing "commercialization" from Zoranc's mouth, Suker realized this guy had some skills. Zoranc spoke well, analyzing their future from all angles. He even pulled out two documents from his briefcase outlining blueprints for Suk and Modrić's future development: Commercial value Exposure Brand selection Image positioning And more. Besides these, there were career trends and club choice standards. Clearly, Zoranc had done his homework. "Future football will inevitably tie with commercialization. Players who want fame and honors must not only play well but also need commercial packaging and operations. That is, the agency team must present your strengths to fans and strangers and package you accordingly." "To be frank, you two have great stories for media hype." "Raised during wartime, shepherd boys!" "Orphans from welfare homes who stuck to their football dreams despite hunger and poor nutrition!" Zorancic seized the moment: "If you give me your contracts, I won't let you down." Suker and Modrić still said nothing. Zorancic pursed his lips and generously said: "Of course, there's plenty of time. You can get to know me slowly and think it over." "Alright!" Suker stood up immediately. "We'll think about it." Suker pulled Modrić and they quickly left. Zorancic stared dumbfounded at their backs. They just left? Really?