Chapter 187: Playing Like Elite Troops

Words : 1350 Updated : Oct 1st, 2025

Kaká sprinted at full speed, and Vukojević had to push himself to the absolute limit to chase him. Kaká was simply too fast. Vukojević gave it everything he had and managed to dive in front just before Kaká could cross the ball. Bang! The ball struck Vukojević's ankle and deflected out of bounds. "He caught up!" Vukojević gasped for air. That all-out sprint was utterly exhausting! AC Milan earned a corner kick. Pirlo stepped up to take it. Shevchenko was already in position. Dinamo Zagreb had all their players back in defense. Tension gripped the stadium. Bang! Pirlo delivered the corner. The ball swung dangerously close to the goal. "Goalkeeper!!" Šimunić was first to react, quickly turning and bracing himself against Shevchenko with arms wide. Goalkeeper Grestić also rushed out, leaping high and cleanly catching the ball in mid-air. "Oh!!! Brilliant anticipation! Grestić with a spectacular save—Pirlo's corner was just too close to the goal." Before the commentator finished his sentence, a roar echoed from the midfield. "Play the ball!!" Suker was already turning and sprinting forward. Grestić launched the ball with all his strength. "Dinamo Zagreb is counterattacking!!!—" The ball soared toward AC Milan's half. Suker immediately broke into a full sprint. "Suker is on the move!!" Commentator Kraševich jumped to his feet, shouting with excitement: "Watch closely! Dinamo Zagreb has its own speed demon!! Suker!! Run!!" Suker's pace was blistering. He lowered his head and bolted toward the dropping ball. Cafu trailed two steps behind. Nesta and Stam were calmly retreating. As the ball descended, Suker stopped, stretched his right leg, and controlled it perfectly in front of him. By then, Cafu had caught up, positioning himself in front of Suker. "Kid, don't even think about getting past!" Suker suddenly looked up, a grin curling on his lips. Cafu felt a chill run down his spine. It was as if a storm was sweeping in. A wave of blue surged toward AC Milan's defensive line. Mandžukić, Modrić, Vukojević, Rakitić, Srna, and Valašević! They were sprinting like madmen, eyes locked on the penalty box. On the sidelines, Ancelotti shot to his feet. His heart pounded wildly. This is bad!! On the other side, Besić had already leapt off his seat, waving and shouting furiously at the pitch: "Go! GO!!" Tens of thousands of Dinamo Zagreb fans erupted in a deafening cheer. Yes! Dinamo Zagreb might not match AC Milan in squad strength, fame, or experience. So how could they win? The answer was simple: Run! Run with everything they had! Beat everyone to the ball, retreat faster than the opponents could recover! "Suker!!" "Pass it!!" "Hurry!!" Amidst the thunderous roar, Suker crossed the ball. It curved through the air toward the penalty area. Only three AC Milan players were in the box. But Dinamo Zagreb had six. Could Milan hold the line? Mandžukić leaped forward, drawing defenders. The ball flew over him, just past Valašević's outstretched foot, and headed to the far post. And there, Modrić arrived right on time with a sliding shot. The ball brushed the near post and flew into the net. Swish!!! For a moment, the Maksimir Stadium fell silent. Then a roar like an earthquake exploded. BOOM!!!!!!! ROAAAARRRRRRRR!!!!!!! Dinamo Zagreb fans leapt from their seats, hands thrust into the air. Goal!!! GOAL!!!! A wild, electrifying counterattack! An inspirational goal! Dinamo Zagreb took the lead! "GOOOOOAAALLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Goal! Goal! Goal! Goal! GOAL!!——" On the commentary platform, Kraševich looked possessed. He swung his arms, face flushed with emotion. He was practically spitting with passion. "This is Dinamo Zagreb's style! This is youth football!!" "Against the mighty AC Milan, we're clearly underdogs—we lack experience, star power, and squad depth!" "But the boys gave their answer!" "Run! Relentless running! Running harder and faster than the opponent!" "This is football! This is a team sport!" "Suker made the first run, waiting for his teammates. He believed they'd arrive faster than Milan could recover!" "Srna, Modrić, and the others repaid that belief!" "Six players!!" "They sprinted across half the pitch, storming AC Milan's backline!!" "This is youth—this is Dinamo Zagreb's team football!" Kraševich clenched his fists, neck veins bulging as he roared: "This is a youth storm!!——" Beside him, Boban was stunned. Clutching his chest, he exhaled, "Thank goodness they scored—if Suker had lost the ball, Milan would've had a dangerous counter." "Why worry about that!" Kraševich's eyes burned with fire. "This is the moment to push forward! To play our style! If you hesitate, you lose! No second thoughts—just attack! If we lose the ball, we track back! What's there to fear?!" At that moment, Kraševich himself was swept up by the vibrant energy of youth. Young men should be like this! Fearless! Unyielding! Brave and bold like newborn calves that fear no lion! Playing like elite troops! The Maksimir Stadium remained in a frenzy. That goal lit the night ablaze. Meanwhile, AC Milan players were left stunned. "We were too slow!" "Who expected them to push so hard!" Gattuso winced. As he tried to retreat, the Dinamo players had launched like rockets from behind. The midfield was completely exposed! The back line was left on its own! If Dinamo had lost the ball or failed to score, the consequences would've been disastrous. They really weren't afraid of a counterattack! "Stay calm, get the goal back!" Maldini walked over, giving Gattuso a firm pat on the back. "Focus!" Gattuso exhaled. He knew Maldini was angry. "Goal! What a goal!" "Luka, brilliant work!" Suker patted his chest, saying: "You guys really went for it—all of you charged the box. Didn't think about getting countered?" "Why bother?" Srna laughed heartily, waving it off. "We scored, didn't we?" Suker extended his hand and grinned, "Nice work!" After celebrating, the players jogged back to their own half. Minute 13, Dinamo Zagreb took the lead. They continued their streak of scoring first in the Champions League and made a bold statement against AC Milan. The Italians had retreated, but their expressions were grim. That goal made their task far tougher. Inzaghi glanced at Pirlo and Kaká. "Find me the chance. Pass it to me!" Both nodded firmly. Inzaghi's demand signaled that he had sensed a chance to break through. The assassin of AC Milan was ready to draw his blade. As play resumed, AC Milan ramped up the pressure. Pirlo, their midfield conductor, began controlling the rhythm, with Gattuso protecting him and pushing forward. Dinamo Zagreb kept pressing high. But Milan advanced both full-backs—Cafu and Maldini—creating numerical superiority. Dinamo, fresh off a goal, fell into a defensive stance, unwilling to commit too many forward. As a result, they began retreating step by step. Suker rushed Pirlo, trying to disrupt. Pirlo calmly passed to Maldini on the overlap. "Vukojević!" Suker shouted. Vukojević immediately followed. Maldini sent a diagonal pass to Kaká, who passed back once Dinamo adjusted. AC Milan started to stretch and pull Dinamo's defense apart. "This won't work!" Modrić saw the chaos and shouted: "Let's press! Steal the ball!" He and Vukojević charged Maldini. But Maldini, having crossed the halfway line, looked up and sent a long ball toward the penalty area. "Watch out!!" "Prepare to contest it!" Jarni and Šimunić rushed back. Jarni, using his experience, turned and called to Šimunić: "You clear it!" He immediately locked onto Shevchenko. Sheva couldn't fully extend due to the pressure, and Šimunić reached the drop point and cleared the ball forcefully. "Nice!" "Brilliant!!" Srna stepped up to receive and fed the ball to Suker ahead. Suker dropped back to control it. The moment he touched it, he felt pressure from behind. Suker stumbled forward. Tweet!!— The whistle blew. The referee called a foul on Gattuso for a push from behind. Gattuso stared wide-eyed at the ref. "I didn't push—" "Shut it!" Maldini rushed over and shoved Gattuso away. That guy had already earned too many cards for his mouth. Still hadn't learned his lesson.

Chapter 187: Playing Like Elite Troops

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