Chapter 18: World Cup Night

The summer of 2002 was scorching. The blazing weather, combined with the global football spectacle, made the season feel even hotter. In the town of Mostar, Suke got up yawning at 3 in the afternoon. Ever since the World Cup had started, Suke's night shift life had begun. As this World Cup was hosted by South Korea and Japan, European fans had to deal with a significant time difference to watch the matches. Many had to stay up late, but their passion remained undiminished. Nearly every evening, the bars were bustling. After half a month, the group stage of the World Cup had concluded. The 2002 World Cup group stage had been full of twists and turns. It had a mix of brilliance, upsets, darkness, and strangeness. The Brazilian team ushered in a new golden era, with their "3R" trio sweeping through the group stage. The "Phenomenon" Ronaldo, Rivaldo, and the young rising midfield magician Ronaldinho — freshly arrived in one of Europe's top leagues — formed a forward line that was every defender's nightmare. Their exquisite coordination and powerful individual abilities left all defenders trembling. Thanks to Brazil's overall brilliant performance, they easily advanced to the knockout rounds. So far, Brazil was the team most in line with pre-tournament expectations. On the other hand, France — another title favorite — saw a shocking downfall after Zidane's injury. Without him, players like Henry seemed to lose their backbone and forgot how to play football. Three games, one draw and two losses — they went from tournament favorites to being eliminated in the group stage in a stunning upset. The public was filled with regret for France and blamed their overdependence on Zidane. Without their midfield core, the team seemed completely lost. The England vs. Argentina match was the most anticipated clash of the group stage. Yet the actual game wasn't as intense as expected. Argentina lost in disappointment, and along with it, their chance to progress to the knockout stage. South Korea became the global center of controversy. With two wins and one draw, they topped their group and advanced. But instead of admiration, most fans felt anger. All they saw were blatant referee biases and inexplicable dirty tactics. European media outlets were vocally critical of South Korea. Portuguese media, whose team was eliminated, outright accused South Korea of stealing victory with shameful means — saying they didn't deserve a spot in the knockout rounds. But results are results — that couldn't be changed. During this period, Suke witnessed many fans go from excitement to numb indifference. This World Cup had been a disaster for gamblers — nothing was going as expected. Around 4 PM, Suk arrived at "Bakic Tavern." Bald-headed goalkeeper Bakic had arrived an hour earlier and was busy unloading supplies from a delivery truck — food and drinks. The stockpiled goods had long been consumed. Alcohol sales were through the roof during the World Cup. Every day, new supplies had to be bought in. Barrels of beer and other beverages were brought in. Besides beer, the tavern also offered special cocktails for female fans. "The TV seems to be acting up. Go take a look!" Bakic was busy and shouted over to Suke. Suke nodded and entered the tavern. The interior smelled heavily of alcohol. The floor was sticky in places — a result of the constant drink sales. The place felt more like a giant wine barrel. He opened the front and back windows to air it out, letting the pungent smell dissipate. Then Suke climbed up the support beam to fix the TV. In Europe, repair services are expensive — anything involving labor costs a lot. These steep costs forced many Europeans to become handy themselves. Electricians, masons, carpenters, cement workers... Very few European men were without basic hands-on skills. Suke didn't have experience fixing electronics, nor did he know how to fix a TV. But he did know some old tricks. When he turned the TV on, the image appeared fine, but there was no sound. This was where old-school methods came in handy. Sitting astride the beam, Suke rolled up his sleeves and banged the side of the TV hard — a few solid smacks. A burst of static buzzed out — then sound returned. "Done!" Suke nodded in satisfaction and climbed down. Looking around and seeing nothing urgent to do, he wandered into the kitchen behind the bar to find something to eat. Milk was a must — it had become his main source of nutrition lately. Taking milk from the fridge, he poured a glass and gulped it down happily. Since his last growth spurt, Suk had entered a new stage of development — his height was finally increasing. He had grown about five centimeters, going from a tiny kid to a slightly less tiny kid. Of course, at 155 cm, he still had a physical disadvantage. But Suk was hopeful — as long as he was growing, there was hope. With this optimistic thought, he felt cheerful. He began raiding the kitchen. Most of what he found were leftover fried foods from the previous day. He had no complaints, piling them on a plate with rice and devouring them. As he was eating, Bakic suddenly entered. "The drinks are restocked for tonight—" Suke stood in the kitchen, his mouth stuffed with rice, plate stacked with cold onion rings and fried chicken. Bakic frowned and sighed. He grabbed an apron from a wall hook, shook it out, and put it on. Then he walked straight to Suke and snatched the plate from his hands. "Kids don't grow eating this stuff!" With that, Bakic dumped the food into the trash and took a steak from the fridge. He melted butter in a pan and began cooking. Suke stood by, eyes wide, staring hungrily at the steak sizzling in butter, mouth watering. "You're actually kinda nice!" Bakči replied without turning: "I'll deduct it from your wages!" Suk didn't mind — it had become a catchphrase of his. Bakic had a sharp tongue but a kind heart. Maybe not in everything, but he treated Suk really well. He rarely, if ever, docked his pay. When the steak was cooked, he plated it with some rice and handed it to Suke. "Eat up, then get to work!" Suke nodded eagerly and dug in with a spoon. After he finished eating, he stepped out of the kitchen. The sky was starting to darken. Lights flickered on along the Neretva River, and the streets became crowded. Groups of people strolled around, looking for a good tavern. Bakic Tavern was a popular choice — mostly due to its affordable drinks. Soon, the bar became lively. People gathered around tables, eyes on the TV overhead, waiting for the World Cup match to begin. Meanwhile, they debated and predicted the game. Drinks flowed steadily. "Table 3, three dark beers and a plate of onion rings!" "Here's your drinks, enjoy!" "Coming through!" Suke darted through the crowd, diving into his night's work. He placed the dark beers on the table. "Here's your beer and onion rings!" He flashed a sweet smile. "Hope you all have a wonderful night!" The guests loved it. One white man in a tank top pulled out a 5 Mark bill and handed it to him. Suke happily accepted the tip and offered another warm smile. He worked hard, trying to earn more tips. Of course, not everyone was as generous as the tank-top guy — most tips ranged from 1–3 Marks, and some gave nothing at all. But Suke stayed committed to polite service, always wearing a smile. He also earned a sales commission for drinks — especially pricey cocktails. In a lively corner of the tavern, a young man and a teenage boy sat together. The man spoke continuously while the boy listened quietly. "Luka, your talent is extraordinary. You just haven't adapted to the Bosnian league yet. Next season, I'll give you more chances, more tactical roles. I believe that together we can create a level of success HSK has never seen before!"