Chapter 50: Arrival in Sarajevo

As the weekend match approached, Mostar Zrinjski remained intensely focused on training.Their high pressing tactics were becoming increasingly refined, especially their coordinated group pressing and interceptions. Swish!! Suke slid in and intercepted the ball. This wasn't one of those forced tackles like before—it was a confident interception, with Suke keeping control of the ball at his feet. He intercepted the ball in the opponent's half and immediately turned to launch a counterattack. Suke executed this type of interception repeatedly in the current match. "Suke's form is getting better and better. Not just offensively—his active running allowed him to intercept the ball multiple times in coordination with his teammates and quickly initiate counters," assistant coach Van Diel commented with admiration. Van Stoyak nodded in agreement. "Suke's positioning and tracking back on defense are very smart. He always seems to show up in the passing lane just as the opponent looks to deliver the ball. He pressures forward at the right time to intercept alongside his teammates." "Although he lacks the physique to win challenges by himself, when supported by his teammates, his interception efficiency remains very high." Van Diel added, "Modrić has also been pressing aggressively in midfield." As match day neared, what pleased the coaching staff most was how the team's high pressing—anchored by Suke and Modrić—was looking sharper than ever. Their relentless running and work ethic inspired the rest of the team to raise their game. "That's it for today—let's head to Sarajevo now!" Coach Van Stoyak called an end to the training session. The players wrapped up, heading to the locker room to shower and pack. "First time heading to Sarajevo!" "Same here!" "Wonder if there's anything fun to see." "We're here to play, not to sightsee!" As they packed their bags, the chatter continued. Mostar, being a small town, made the idea of visiting the capital, Sarajevo, a little exciting for the players. Suke placed his boots, socks, and shin guards into his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and said, "I'll head to the bus first." The team bus was already waiting outside the locker room. Suke boarded and grabbed a window seat. Soon after, his teammates began filing on. There were no assigned seats, but everyone had their usual spot. Suke liked sitting by the window, and Modrić typically took the seat next to him. Sarajevo isn't far from Mostar—about 100 kilometers. So the team opted to travel by bus. The trip began with 30 kilometers of rough roads before they hit the highway. The initial stretch was so bumpy it made several players feel car sick. Thankfully, they had left a day early, allowing them time to recover before the match. Once on the highway, the ride became smoother and more comfortable. About an hour and a half later, after crossing a mountain ridge, the city of Sarajevo appeared in a basin below. This is a city with significant historical meaning—not just for Bosnia and Herzegovina, but for the entire world. After entering the city, they drove another ten minutes and came upon a river bridge. This was the Miljacka River, which, like the Neretva in Mostar, divides Sarajevo in two. The sunlight danced across the rippling water. Not far away stood an old bridge. Modrić pointed toward it and said, "That's the Latin Bridge!" Suke turned to look. At first glance, it was an utterly ordinary bridge. But it was on this very bridge that a historic assassination took place—one that ultimately plunged the world into war. Looking at the peaceful scene before him, it was hard to imagine such a chaotic past connected to this calm crossing. The Miljacka River flowed quietly, flanked by familiar scenery and bustling with tourists. The restored Latin Bridge stood firmly, linking the city's past with its future. Occasionally, pedestrians passed in haste; occasionally, a beggar lay resting on the bridge. Pigeons flapped their wings overhead, gliding across the ancient structure. The turmoil of the past now belongs to history. Today, Sarajevo—and the world—embrace peace and development. "Man, I'm exhausted!" Suke said as he stepped off the bus and stretched. The journey wasn't long, but the bumpiness and cramped space made it uncomfortable. Zrinjski's team bus was an old-fashioned model—no air conditioning, just openable windows. The pungent diesel fumes during the ride made things worse. But finally, they had arrived. Led by Coach Van Stoyak, the team checked into their accommodations, and players headed to their rooms. Suke and Modrić, as usual, were roommates. Once inside, Modrić began unpacking, while Suke turned on the TV. Lately, the buzz around the Zrinjski vs. Sarajevo matchup had been heating up. In this era, without widespread internet or social media, most updates came via traditional media and television. Suke flipped to Bosnia's sports channel, which was airing UEFA Champions League coverage. In the most recent Champions League match, the newly signed Ronaldo ("The Phenomenon") scored a stunning solo goal for Real Madrid, helping them win 2–0. On the fuzzy old TV screen, Ronaldo wore Real Madrid's iconic white kit. His devastating pace and strength were as terrifying as ever. Despite the defenders' attempts to pull him down, he bulldozed through, carving a path to goal. His finish was so precise and sharp it gave Suke goosebumps. "He's a beast!" Suke couldn't help but admire. Modrić paused his unpacking, glanced at the screen, and said, "A striker like that strikes fear into any defense." In today's football world, Real Madrid was the most captivating club. Under president Florentino Pérez, the "Galácticos" project was making waves. Especially during this summer transfer window—Madrid signed Ronaldo from Inter Milan, proving they weren't bluffing. The squad was already dazzling, and more stars like Beckham and Woodgate would soon join, completing the Galácticos lineup. While the two watched the Champions League highlights, the broadcast suddenly shifted to Bosnian league coverage. The Bosnian League Round 14 logo flashed across the screen. "At 3 PM today, HŠK Zrinjski Mostar arrived in Sarajevo. They'll face the league-leading FK Sarajevo in a highly anticipated match!" "Zrinjski has undergone significant changes this season. Last year, they signed the Croatian prodigy Luka Modrić, who's now the league's most talked-about young talent." Footage showed Modrić controlling the midfield, orchestrating attacks with poise and vision. "For Modrić, he'll be facing veterans like Meskapeć and Torlist—both former players in Europe's top leagues. It's a big test. Can this rising star hold his own? We'll find out soon." "Kosović continues to trouble opposing defenses as a formidable center forward. His presence..." The announcer continued to introduce key players from each position in detail. But throughout the segment—there wasn't a single mention of Suke. "Not even one word? That's cold," Suke muttered. Sure, he wasn't as well-known as Modrić, but surely he had some recognition? Didn't the media know how to hype players in this era? Wasn't a 160cm center-forward at least worth a mention? Then suddenly, the announcer said: "Suker Mazic—a Sarajevo native—displayed phenomenal football talent from a young age and possesses extraordinary physical attributes. At 18 years old, Suker Mazic now leads the league with 9 goals. After winning the Silver Boot last season, he's now in contention for the Golden Boot." "He's one of Bosnia's brightest prospects—a rare gem—and the future of Bosnian football!" On the screen, Suker Mazic's photo appeared prominently. A curly-haired young man with freckles, thin lips, and sharp eyes beneath a proud Roman nose. Below the image were his physical stats: Name: Suker MazicHeight: 191 cmWeight: 85 kg Click! The TV was abruptly turned off. Modrić looked over, only to see Suke waving dismissively. "No point watching. Let's rest up for tomorrow's game." Modrić nodded slightly and lay down to rest as well. Suke was clearly fired up. He'd played well this season—but no mention of him at all? The broadcast only talked about Suker Mazic? It irritated him. Sure, Suker Mazic was a Sarajevo local and considered a homegrown star. But still—it rubbed him the wrong way. Taller. Heavier. Already annoying. But to ignore his assists completely? Not even his name? Suke was fuming. If they won't give him recognition—he'd just have to take it. Watch and see. The other Suker? Hmph!