Chapter 75: Red Card!

"Perfect!!!" At the moment Modrić scored, Jategenić couldn't help but stand up and applaud. But he wasn't out of place in the crowd—everyone had stood up, cheering and applauding the goal. Mostar Zrinjski's second goal!They had continuously put pressure on Sarajevo throughout the first half and broke through their defense twice. And just before halftime, they delivered a critical blow. This goal crushed Sarajevo's morale completely. After scoring, Modrić ran over to Suker in delight. The two embraced tightly. "Great pass!""Great movement!" This goal was made possible by Suker's sudden lateral run in the final moments, creating a passing lane from the back. While everyone else ran forward, only Suker moved sideways. Thanks to his sharp sense for space, he carved out this razor-sharp through ball, assisting Modrić in scoring. That gave Mostar Zrinjski their second goal in the first half. "Sarajevo is playing passively—this isn't much different from the previous leg. Even after a full cycle, they still haven't adapted to Mostar Zrinjski's attacking style!" "Exactly! Sarajevo tried to make adjustments, but they haven't found the root of the problem. They simply can't contain Modrić and Suk!" Sarajevo's performance was disappointing. Despite boasting Meškapeć, Tolist, and the Bosnian prodigy Suker Mažić, they were completely suppressed by Mostar's twin stars. They couldn't establish their rhythm, especially in midfield, where Suker and Modrić had them in total disarray. In contrast, Mostar Zrinjski played with ease. Suker and Modrić—Front and back, these two were the command centers of the team's attack. Modrić maintained the link and rhythm from the back with his passing and control. Suker led the front with his awareness of space and sharp positioning, orchestrating the attack. His breakthroughs on the wing also repeatedly created dangerous chances. On the sidelines, the Mostar Zrinjski coaching staff applauded enthusiastically. This was exactly the style they wanted. No matter who the opponent was, even if it was Sarajevo, Mostar Zrinjski played their own brand of football. Controlling the midfield tempo—whether it was Meškapeć or Tolist, they were being run ragged. On the bench, Skolk watched on, deeply moved. Winning away in the last leg was already amazing to him. But this home game, completely dominating Sarajevo, was even more impressive. He looked at Suker and Modrić with a mix of admiration and envy. Though he was close to them, he never truly entered their world. There are levels to talent. Modrić was clearly a child blessed by the heavens. As for Suker, Sterk once thought he'd be taught a harsh lesson by Suker Mažić, but the opposite happened. The Bosnian prodigy's brilliance was completely overshadowed. In head-to-head battles, he looked like a clueless traffic cone. "Hey! Start running! This isn't how we should be playing—we need to be more proactive. What are you all doing?!" Suker Mažić shouted furiously at his teammates. By now, Suker Mažić had lost his usual composure and was visibly agitated. They were already two goals down!What an awful performance they were putting on! His complaints kept coming, while his teammates wore clearly frustrated expressions. "Tilemanči, can't you get past that fullback? You're always being shut down—I don't even get a chance to compete for a header!" "Pass the ball! Pass it to me! How am I supposed to score if you don't pass?!" Still, Suker Mažić kept complaining. Tilemanči snapped suddenly, yelling, "Then why don't you score by yourself?" "Look at that Suker—he dribbles, moves, passes, shoots. He alone disrupts our entire defense! And you? You just stand there like a lump in front of the goal. What else can you do?" Tilemanči's outburst stunned Suker Mažić, who quickly shot back even more angrily: "So now it's my fault, is it? Dammit! I'm a poacher-style striker—you want me out of the box? What the hell's in your head, dog shit?!" "You're the dog shit!" Tilemanči roared. "So-called Bosnian prodigy! Look at those two guys—that's what real talent looks like!" That silenced Suker Mažić—he had no comeback. Seeing the heated argument, the Sarajevo players rushed over to break it up. Suker and Modrić, retreating to defense, saw it all. Suker murmured, "They've lost it." Modrić added, "They're playing terribly." Sarajevo tried a new tactic, but it clearly wasn't ready—full of holes and disorganized. Mostar Zrinjski exploited those gaps to score two goals. In Modrić's view, a tactic shouldn't be used in key matches until it's been fully tested—otherwise, this kind of defensive collapse and internal conflict is bound to happen. Sarajevo failed to resolve their issues, and the second half became even worse. No passing, no teamwork. Tilemanči refused to pass to Suker Mažić out of spite. Suker Mažić also lost it—this "poacher" striker started running all over the pitch, wildly pressing. It looked okay at first, but after failing to win the ball, his frustration grew. His tackles became dangerous. 61st minute—Suker Mažić, trying to press, was toyed with by Mostar Zrinjski's ball movement in their own half. In a fit of rage, he slid into Krelpić. Luckily, Krelpić jumped in time and avoided injury. But Suker Mažić got a yellow card for it. It didn't calm him down—he got even more aggressive. Repeated dangerous tackles in Mostar Zrinjski's half. Finally, during an aerial challenge, he clattered into the goalkeeper. With no choice, the referee pulled out a second yellow. Two yellows, one red—Suker Mažić was sent off. "Suker Mažić—he lost his cool! With Sarajevo now down a striker and a man, things have gone from bad to worse," said commentator Basodaći, shaking his head. Suker Mažić considered a Bosnian prodigy. But in these two matches against Mostar Zrinjski, he flopped hard. The first leg was okay—he scored. But this game? A total disaster. Suker Mažić walked off alone. Fans looked on coldly at this tantrum-throwing player. To them, he was acting like a spoiled child. What prodigy? Jategenić also looked at Suker Mažić. As a scout, he knew of the player—after all, Croatia and Bosnia are neighbors. But Jategenić never saw him as a real prodigy. Real talent brings extraordinary advantages in at least one area. But talent doesn't guarantee success! And Suker Mažić's talent wasn't elite. Sure, his height and physique were useful—but in Europe, that's nothing special. He had instincts for headers and positioning—but again, nothing rare. To Jategenić, this guy wasn't a prodigy at all.Just someone hyped up in a low-tier Bosnian league. Europe has too many real prodigies. For instance, Cristiano Ronaldo at Sporting CP—rumor has it Sir Alex Ferguson is bringing him to Old Trafford this summer. In Spain's Catalonia, Barcelona has a youth named Lionel Messi, being treated like a national treasure. At Atlético Madrid, Fernando Torres is called El Niño (The Kid). There are so many young stars like this. Compared to these true generational talents, Suker Mažić doesn't even make the list. Jategenić turned his gaze toward Suk and Modrić. What roles would these two play in this new era? What would they bring to Croatian football? He didn't know what the future held, but his eager gaze pierced into the fog of time called "the future," trying to glimpse the answer. With Suker Mažić sent off, the match lost all suspense. Sarajevo, a man down, retreated completely on defense. Mostar Zrinjski, already holding the advantage, didn't push recklessly for more goals. In the end, the match finished in a quiet atmosphere. 2002/2003 season: Mostar Zrinjski 2–0 FK Sarajevo, widening their lead on the table. Sarajevo failed to get revenge and played poorly. And that result sealed their fate—they would not get their revenge this season. The match ended, Mostar Zrinjski increased their lead in the standings, and their first championship title came even closer.