Chapter 34 - 32: Move! Shake

Chapter 34: Chapter 32: Move! Shake

"Watch out for that short guy, number 99! He’s fast!"

Bosschenoqi broke out in a cold sweat and turned his head to shout.

Suk’s forward run had given them a real scare, piercing their defensive line in an instant.

The guy hadn’t used any fancy technique, either. He just bulldozed past them with pure speed.

And against this kind of naturally talented player, he was truly at a loss. It was a fundamental gap that couldn’t be closed by individual effort.

All he could do was try his best to keep up and prepare in advance.

However, Bosschenoqi was also very experienced. The first time was too sudden, but it wouldn’t happen again so easily.

Just then, Modric once again threaded the ball forward.

Suk instantly prepared to sprint.

At the same time, Bosschenoqi turned early, but just as he was about to dash, Suk abruptly stopped the ball.

’He’s not running?’

Bosschenoqi instinctively stopped in his tracks, wanting to press forward.

But Suk immediately started moving again.

’Trying to play these games with me?!’

Bosschenoqi stuck out his long leg. Either the ball stayed, or the man did.

His intention was crystal clear.

In a flash, Suk used his quick footwork to tap the ball repeatedly, pushing it between Bosschenoqi’s legs. At the same time, he leaped lightly, completing the breakthrough once again.

Bosschenoqi had been beaten again.

His face flushed red. He turned and roared, "Stay here!"

He immediately reached out and violently pulled Suk back.

Aaaaaah!

Suk was yanked backward, his feet leaving the ground, and he landed hard on his rear.

"FOUL!!!!!"

The entire stadium of Mostar Zrinjski fans roared in anger.

It was a blatant foul. Even though the Bosnia and Herzegovina Super League was notoriously rough, a move like that had to draw a card.

Besides, Suk had clearly gotten past him. That was a breakthrough that could have led to another one-on-one with the keeper!

At this thought, the fans yelled even louder.

"RED CARD!!!!!!"

Bosschenoqi’s heart was pounding with anxiety.

He never expected to be made to look so pathetic by a shorty.

The half had only started five minutes ago, and he’d already been beaten by Suk twice. And now it looked like he was about to get carded.

The referee ran over and showed Bosschenoqi a yellow card.

Seeing the yellow card, Bosschenoqi finally breathed a sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t a red card.

Still, he was incredibly frustrated.

Suk dusted himself off and got up from the ground. He picked up the nearby ball and tossed it directly to Modric.

Modric placed the ball on the spot for the free kick and prepared to take it.

Suk stood with the others on the edge of the penalty area, ready to follow up for a rebound.

Modric took a deep breath, started his run-up, and struck the ball hard.

The ball curved as it flew toward the near post.

THWACK!!

The opposing keeper’s reaction was incredibly quick. He blocked the ball with one hand, but it landed right back in the penalty area.

’Here it comes!’

Suk roared and was the first to charge forward.

He was fast, with explosive power, and the ball had landed closest to him.

Suk darted forward and jabbed at the ball with the tip of his boot.

PING!

The ball hit the crossbar and flew out of bounds.

"Damn it!"

Suk couldn’t help but curse. ’What kind of damn luck is this.’

Two shots in a row, and still no goal.

He stomped his foot in frustration.

The Sarajevo Railway Workers had once again escaped disaster.

Now, the expressions on the faces of the Sarajevo Railway Workers were incredibly grim.

The second half had just begun, and their defensive line was already in chaos. The culprit was this short center-forward.

They had gone from initial disdain to current vigilance. Faced with Suk’s depressing speed, they were getting truly agitated.

This was especially true for a tall center-back like Bosschenoqi. He could handle a physical battle with someone like Kosopech, but against a slippery eel like Suk, they were stumped.

The match resumed, and Suk remained active in the front field.

His energetic performance made Mostar Zrinjski’s offense surge like a relentless tide.

"Pass it to me!"

"Just like that!"

Suk waved his arms and shouted, "Come on! Pass it and I’ll make it happen!"

Bosschenoqi was about to lose his mind.

On the sidelines, on the coach’s bench, Van Stiake had a faint smile. It hadn’t left his face since Suk’s first breakthrough.

He could feel the overall momentum of the game gradually shifting in their favor, which was excellent news.

However, Assistant Coach Fandier voiced his doubts.

"Suk using his speed to push forward has certainly dealt a blow to the opposition, forcing them to pay attention to him. But this will only make him a thorn in their side. It’ll be even harder for him to make runs later."

Fandier saw the opposing full-backs starting to tuck into the middle. It was a clear sign they were planning to double-team Suk.

Van Stiake’s smile remained. He said, "The objective is different!"

"What objective?" Fandier asked, confused.

Van Stiake chuckled. "What was the task I assigned to Suk?"

Fandier: "To drop back, receive the ball, and organize the attack."

After saying this, he looked slightly surprised. "That’s right! He hasn’t dropped back at all. He’s just been pushing forward."

Van Stiake: "This is just part of the process."

"I’m always emphasizing that the players need to play with their brains, but clearly, they don’t understand what I’m saying. Suk, on the other hand, gets it perfectly."

"He has an extraordinary talent for avoiding his weaknesses and magnifying his strengths."

"Suk is short and not good at physical confrontations. He knows this very well. That’s why, at the start of the half, he never even considered dropping back for the ball. Instead, he used his speed to repeatedly attack their defensive line, creating the impression that he’s a forward who makes deep runs."

As he said this, Van Stiake pointed to the field. "Look at Bosschenoqi..."

Fandier looked at the field.

At that moment, Bosschenoqi was standing on the same line as Suk.

And every time Suk feigned a run, Bosschenoqi would flinch.

Suk moved, he flinched.

Suk moved again, he flinched again.

The scene was quite comical.

Bosschenoqi couldn’t even look upfield properly. He had to constantly keep an eye on Suk. It was clear this was causing him immense distress.

"Suk’s forward runs are definitely a headache," Fandier admitted. "Suk’s speed is too much, a huge blow for a cumbersome center-back."

"But that’s not his greatest weapon!"

Van Stiake smiled. "This is all just part of the process. He’s using his speed to make everyone think he’s a deep-running striker, all to conceal his true objective."

"His true objective?"

"To drop back and receive the ball!"

Van Stiake’s eyes sharpened. "That’s the fundamental goal. To drop back, link up play, and free up Modric. If Suk had started doing that from the beginning, he would have been marked tightly. Every time he dropped back, an opponent would have followed and restricted him, and he likely wouldn’t have been able to establish his desired rhythm. But now, it’s different."

Fandier was stunned for a moment, then clapped his hands. "I get it! He’s setting a trap for the Sarajevo Railway Workers! He’s making everyone think he’s a deep-running striker, and then he’ll use that to his advantage when he drops back to receive the ball."

"And when Suk starts dropping back to link up, freeing Modric again and again..."

The light in Fandier’s eyes grew brighter. He clapped his hands together and exclaimed in admiration, "What a cunning little rascal!"

When Suk starts dropping back repeatedly, do the Sarajevo Railway Workers follow him or not?

If they follow, Suk will turn and run forward again, using the space he created to break through.

If they don’t follow, Suk frees up Modric, creating a numerical advantage in the attack and forcing the issue.

Whether they followed or not, the opposing defensive line would be in danger of collapsing.

The match clock had now reached the 60-minute mark.

After Suk’s repeated forward breakthroughs, the opponent’s defensive line had gradually started to narrow.

This pulled open space on the flanks.

Suk felt the time was ripe.

Suk turned to look at the towering Bosschenoqi and said abruptly, "I’m done playing with you."

With that, Suk casually trotted back.

Bosschenoqi: "???"

He didn’t know what Suk meant, but watching the guy retreat from the defensive line was a relief.

Having that guy hanging around the back line was as uncomfortable as a fishbone stuck in his throat.

Suk swaggered back, and no one followed him at all.

At the same time, Modric was once again double-teamed.

Suk had been having a blast running wild, but Modric had been struggling to hold on.

Modric saw the double-team coming and was just about to pull the ball away to pass.

Just then, a voice suddenly called out from ahead.

"Luka! I’m here to support you!"

Hearing the familiar voice, Modric was overjoyed.

’You’re finally here!’

Without a second thought, Modric poked the ball forward with the tip of his boot, passing it directly to Suk’s feet.

Suk received the ball with no one challenging him. As he dribbled horizontally, he scanned his teammates’ positions.

Both wingers were itching to make a run.

Just then, Suk and Boamei exchanged a look.

The next second, Suk passed toward Boamei, then quickly moved back toward the center.

Bosschenoqi had intended to shift to the right to help defend, but seeing Suk return, he had no choice but to stop in his tracks.

Boamei attempted a few breakthroughs, but with little success.

"Pass it here!"

Suk’s voice rang out.

Boamei saw Suk already moving toward him.

He immediately passed the ball to Suk.

Suk first faked a forward run, making Bosschenoqi flinch and preventing him from immediately charging.

The next second, Suk turned his back to the goal and passed the ball back with the inside of his foot.

It was a back pass.

And Modric had just pushed forward into that exact position. Meeting Suk’s lay-off, he drew back his leg and launched a chip pass.

The ball sailed over the entire Sarajevo Railway Workers’ defensive line, which had been stretched flat, and dropped into the open space on the left.

The Sarajevo Railway Workers’ defenders had all shifted to the right. This sudden chip pass completely dismantled their defensive formation.

The left winger, Billiar, quickly ran onto the ball. He controlled it, cut inside, shook off the opposing full-back to create space for a shot, and fired a powerful strike.

SWISH!!

The ball blasted through the keeper’s grasp and flew into the back of the net.

At the 62nd minute, Mostar Zrinjski scored again, taking the lead 2-1.