Chapter 145: The Wind Rises!

Words : 1198 Updated : Sep 27th, 2025

As the third round of Champions League qualification approaches,the entire city of Zagreb is enveloped in a heavy, tense atmosphere. Since the founding of Dinamo Zagreb,they have made countless attempts to reach the Champions League proper,but time and time again, they have fallen short. Even a great like Davor Šuker couldn't lead Dinamo Zagreb to the Champions League main stage. To Dinamo Zagreb fans,they long for European football, for a greater stage,a stage where they can cheer and shout with all their might.They want Dinamo Zagreb to carry more honor and glory.They don't know what the future holds,but they always hold on to hope. August 11th, 2004.Zagreb, the capital of Croatia. Dark clouds churn in the sky, painting it black. Thunder rumbles dully from beyond the clouds. Soon, a light drizzle begins to fall steadily. Boreci stands by the window, staring at the gloomy sky, brows furrowed. It's 2 PM, supposedly bright daylight,but the entire space seems shrouded in darkness.Inside, the room is even dimmer. "This can't be a good omen," Boreci sighs heavily. He's 67 this year, a local of Zagreb,having lived his entire life on this land. Even during turbulent times, he never left. He loves Dinamo Zagreb—he's a lifelong die-hard fan. When his father gave him a Dinamo Zagreb jersey as a birthday present,he knew then and there this club would be his lifetime allegiance. Yes—Dinamo Zagreb is more than just a football club.To 67-year-old Boreci,this team is like a child of his own. He loves every player on the squad,even the obscure substitutes—he knows all their names. To Boreci, today feels like sending his child off to take an exam.That complex feeling of nervousness and eager anticipation. Around 5 PM, the sky still shows no sign of clearing.The drizzle continues, though the thunder has stopped.Looks like the rain will last the whole day. Boreci walks to the bedroom and opens his jersey cabinet. It's packed with jerseys—ones he's collected every season since 1950. He instinctively reaches for the jersey on the far right. It's a No. 9 shirt from the 1990s, emblazoned with "Šuker!" Boerchi smiles at the shirt before putting it back,then pulls out a brand-new jersey from the bottom. Also a blue No. 9 shirt. Also "Šuker." But Boreci knows—they are not the same. "Today, it's your turn!" He pulls the new jersey over his body, puts on a raincoat and boots, and steps out the door. The moment he walks out, Boreci takes a deep breath and shouts: "Come on, Dinamo Zagreb!" To his surprise, echoes rise all around him. "Come on!! Šuker!!""Victory is ours!""Victory belongs to Zagreb!" In that moment, the signs of old age vanish from Boreci's face—he stands tall. He's heading to Maksimir Stadium,to cheer for their young warriors. At the subway station, Boreci meets up with his old pals, all heading toward the stadium. "I'm wearing the No. 10 jersey—I love Luka! He's the brain of the team!""I got 11—Mario reminds me of my youth, explosive physique!""I'm No. 9! Šuker's my favourite.""Me too—No. 9!" The old men proudly show off their new jerseys. Boreci looks at the scene, eyes full of emotion. They all chose new jerseys for this match—as if heralding the arrival of a new era. Yes—Dinamo Zagreb is stepping into a brand new era.The era of the youth. "Wait for me!" A panicked voice calls from behind. Boreci turns to see Kredivac jogging over. "You all walk too fast—I had to run." Boreci, puzzled, asks: "What are you doing here? Who's driving the boys to the match?" Kredivac is Dinamo Zagreb's team bus driver. "I retired this summer transfer window. Was at home recovering—heart problems." Boreci chuckles: "You've long been due for retirement. But you just couldn't let go of that bus." "What do you mean 'that bus'!?" Kredivac snaps."That's the bus that carries Dinamo Zagreb's warriors—you're just jealous!" Laughter erupts. Boreci asks with concern: "Your health...?" He remembers Kredivac has a heart condition.His family was against him even watching football. Kredivac waves it off: "If I miss this game, what's the point of living?" Boreci smiles.He understands. If the roles were reversed, he'd make the same choice. "Let's go. Let's witness how our young warriors shine." They arrive at Maksimir Stadium.The stands are packed with Dinamo Zagreb fans. The third qualifying round for the Champions League attracts massive attention.It's their 15th attempt to reach the group stage,drawing in a passionate crowd. "We've failed the last 14 times—who knows if this is the one!" As players warm up, the old fans talk nervously.The previous 14 failures sit heavy in their hearts.They are both excited and anxious. "Three Brazilians, several Eastern European internationals..."Boreci grimaces."Dynamo Kyiv's lineup is no joke." "Doesn't matter!" Kredivac shouts."These young men have worked so hard. They'll be rewarded." "I hope so..." Boreci sighs, glancing again at the match guide.Dynamo Kyiv really is a tough nut to crack. "OHHHH~~!! Šuker and Modrić with a beautiful give-and-go, slicing through the defense—Mandžukić shoots! Ah! Saved by the keeper!" "Dinamo Zagreb's pressing from the opening whistle has thrown Dynamo Kyiv off rhythm!" "Here we go again! Mandžukić wins the ball, Šuker curls it—just wide!" Dinamo Zagreb dominates from the start, relentlessly pressing, attacking, shooting. The fans erupt into a frenzy. Damn it! Damn it!This is Dynamo Kyiv we're talking about! The Champions League third qualifying round is full of strong teams.They expected a tough, even match.But Dinamo's youngsters are battering their opponent. Kyiv struggles under the relentless pressure and high-intensity attacks. On the stands, Boreci and the others are stunned. They stare at the youthful figures on the field, full of vigor. Though the rain is cold, their hearts burn with heat. This isn't the match they imagined.This isn't an even contest— They're dominating.They're dominating Dynamo Kyiv. "Go! Boys!"Kredivac throws off his hood, face flushed with excitement, rain pouring over his head. He pumps his fists wildly. "Go! Go! GO!" His eyes burn with passion. He knows better than anyone:These boys have trained tirelessly.Even during holidays, they trained.Every moment was used to improve. Their effort will not go unrewarded.Even God will bless such hardworking, passionate kids. They were there at sunrise.They were there under the moonlight. They trained harder, longer, fiercer than anyone else. So why should they be average!?Why should this match be balanced!? PRESS!Crush them with pressure! Unleash everything you've got—blaze and bloom gloriously! Kredivac's chest rises and falls violently.His eyes shine with uncontrollable excitement and emotion. "Kids—climb that mountain!" "Climb it! Let all of Europe hear your voice!" The symphony of youth has begun to play!The wind howls past their ears— The wind has risen!

Chapter 145: The Wind Rises!

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