Chapter 35 - 33: A Center Sprinting on Defense

Chapter 35: Chapter 33: A Center Sprinting on Defense

The goal came so suddenly that neither the fans nor the commentators had time to react.

Just a few simple passes in the attacking third effortlessly tore open the defense.

"A... a goal!!!!"

"Mostar Zrinjski’s number 7, Billiar, has broken the deadlock! It was a surprising goal, with Mostar Zrinjski breaching the Sarajevo Railway Workers’ net through a brilliant series of passes in the attacking third!"

"A chip from number 8, Modric, completely tore the defense apart!"

The Mostar Zrinjski fans were also a bit slow to react, but once they saw the ball go in, they burst into surprised and joyful cheers.

On the bench, Van Stiake and the coaching staff erupted in excited cheers and applause.

Van Stiake was particularly ecstatic. The goal was incredibly exciting for him because it proved his tactical system could actually work.

There was no better news than this.

’It seems my decision was correct after all. Suk is the crucial piece in this total football system.’

Assistant Coach Fandier was also clapping. He smiled and said, "Modric’s chip was brilliant, but Suk was the one who created the opportunity. The first give-and-go freed Modric, the next pass drew the defense to the right, and then he acted as a pivot to help Modric deliver that key ball. His vision for the play is incredibly clear!"

Fandier was full of admiration. Suk’s dribbling was certainly a threat, but it was nowhere near as potent as the pressure created by his passing and movement up front.

But most importantly, Suk had already made the opposing back line wary of his forward runs, which is what created this entire situation and led to the goal.

It looked like an assist from Modric, but Suk was the true mastermind pulling the strings.

Mostar Zrinjski had scored a crucial goal to take the lead.

This goal tipped the scales of victory in Mostar Zrinjski’s favor.

For Suk and his teammates, this change in momentum meant they could now play even better.

The expressions on the faces of the Sarajevo Railway Workers players were clearly troubled, especially Bosschenoqi’s. His performance had taken a nosedive ever since Suk entered the game.

He was a former Croatia international. Even though he was always a substitute, his abilities were still recognized.

But facing a center forward with a completely different style like Suk was giving him a real headache.

When the match restarted, Mostar Zrinjski’s play was noticeably smoother.

Modric received the ball deep in his own half and began to drive forward.

As two Sarajevo Railway Workers midfielders closed in to challenge him, Modric passed the ball straight forward.

He knew Suk would be there waiting for it.

Sure enough, Suk made a lateral run to collect the ball. Once Modric found an open space, Suk passed it back to him and immediately surged forward.

Modric was completely unleashed. Now, with him orchestrating the attack, the opponent’s defensive line fell into even greater disarray.

"This is the destructive power of the 18-year-old Croatian prodigy, Modric, in the midfield."

Even the commentator, Basodachi, couldn’t help but remark on it.

Before, Modric had been stifled, leaving Mostar Zrinjski without a playmaker up front.

But now, with Suk dropping back, he not only added another playmaker but also helped free Modric.

Facing two playmakers was causing immense problems for the Sarajevo Railway Workers’ defense.

Every Mostar Zrinjski attack put them under immense pressure.

"Damn it!"

Seeing Suk drop back again, Bosschenoqi cursed under his breath and immediately followed.

’I have to follow him. If I let Suk keep running wild up front, our defensive line is done for.’

When Modric passed the ball to Suk again, Bosschenoqi reacted in a flash, charging into Suk from behind, knocking him over and stealing the ball.

It was a clear push from behind, but the referee made no call.

Suk went down flat on his face. He knew the opposition was getting their bearings, so he immediately scrambled back to his feet, gritted his teeth, and sprinted after the ball.

’I lost the ball, so I’ll be the one to get it back!’

Suk was sprinting madly, but Sarajevo Railway Workers seized the opportunity for a counter-attack, quickly moving the ball out to the wing.

Sarajevo Railway Workers finally had a golden opportunity to counter, and they advanced with great speed.

When the ball was moved to the center, their number 10, Vukocic, met it, cut inside, and blew past center-back Mashovich to charge straight into the penalty box.

"Mostar Zrinjski is in danger!!"

The tables turned in an instant. Vukocic was one-on-one with the keeper.

Mostar Zrinjski’s goalkeeper, Kish, hastily rushed off his line. He was quick.

Facing Kish’s charge, Vukocic executed a delicate chip, sending the ball sailing over the keeper’s head.

It was a chip shot!

’It’s over!’

Mashovich’s heart sank. ’Are we going to lose the lead we fought so hard for?’

Just then, he heard the frantic sound of footsteps.

The footfalls were rapid, and a white blur shot past him.

Suk gritted his teeth. His eyes fixed on the ball in the air, he lowered his head and put on another burst of speed.

’Run!!!’

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!!!

At that moment, everyone’s eyes were on Suk, and on the ball sailing over the keeper toward the open goal.

’Can he make it?’

’I can make it!’

Suk dug his cleats in and accelerated again.

Just as he reached the goal line, he pushed off with both legs and launched himself into the air.

His small frame didn’t get much height, but it was enough.

Meeting the descending ball, Suk strained to head it upward with his forehead.

PING!

The ball struck the crossbar and bounced back into the penalty area, where the retreating full-back, Kerpic, cleared it out of bounds.

Suk, however, flew right into the net.

The stadium fell silent.

The sight of his desperate, fifty-meter sprint to make a goal-line save left them stunned.

Even the Sarajevo Railway Workers’ players stood with their mouths agape.

Especially their number 10, Vukocic, whose face was a mask of shock and disbelief.

’Why is this guy here?’

’You’re a center forward!’

’You’re supposed to be up front!’

’Tracking back to defend isn’t your job!’

But Suk had tracked back, and he had just made a breathtaking goal-line save.

"ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!—"

The one roaring wasn’t Suk, but Head Coach Van Stiake.

He roared at the sky, fists clenched, his face flushed crimson with excitement, veins popping on his forehead.

"Beautiful! Beautiful! Fucking beautiful!"

"Fuck yeah!"

"Fuck yeah!!"

"Fuck yeah!!!"

Van Stiake threw frantic punches at the air, sprinting along the edge of the technical area.

’This is the fucking center forward I wanted.’

’This is fucking total football.’

’After losing possession, even the center forward sprints back to make a goal-line save.’

In that instant, the passion of the crowd was completely ignited.

The Mostar Zrinjski fans went into a frenzy.

They raised their hands high in excitement, and the thunderous cheers of hundreds of fans echoed across the pitch.

A grueling, fifty-meter sprint to make a last-ditch, goal-line save at the most critical moment.

What defense could possibly be better than that?

"Suk!"

"Suk!"

"Suk!"

The fans spontaneously began to chant Suk’s name.

The passion in the stadium made the temperature feel like it was rising.

Mostar Zrinjski’s goalkeeper, Kish, ran into the goal and pulled the dazed Suk to his feet.

His expression was a mix of excitement, relief, and gratitude.

It had been a certain goal, but Suk’s desperate sprint had saved it.

"Well done, kid!"

Kish vigorously ruffled Suk’s hair and pulled him into a tight hug.

Suk finally came to his senses. Looking at the ball on the sideline, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief and mutter:

"Holy shit, I’m awesome!"

Suk walked forward, surrounded by his teammates like a star. Each one came up to ruffle his hair and show their appreciation.

Modric’s face was flushed. He was shy by nature, but that didn’t mean he was emotionless.

A goal-line save at such a critical moment made even Modric’s blood boil with excitement.

"Suk!"

Modric held out his hand.

Suk stepped forward and gave him a high-five.

SLAP!

"Cool, right?"

"So cool!"

Missing that certain goal was a huge blow to Sarajevo Railway Workers.

From that moment on, Mostar Zrinjski took complete control of the match’s tempo.

Suk continued to drop back from his forward position, repeatedly helping his team link up their attacks. Occasionally, he would also exploit the space he’d created by making a sudden forward run.

Faced with Suk’s multiple attacking options, the Sarajevo Railway Workers’ back line grew increasingly chaotic.

In the 86th minute, Modric passed the ball to Suk again.

Suk had already dropped back. He played the ball to the right with the outside of his foot while simultaneously making an arcing run around the left side, turning to sprint forward.

Bosschenoqi was stunned.

The ball went right, the man went left. He didn’t know how to react for a crucial second.

This allowed Suk to slip past him on the left, and by the time Bosschenoqi realized what had happened, he was long gone.

Boamei saw Suk’s run and easily threaded the ball into the open space for him.

Suk took a touch to push the ball ahead and continued his high-speed run, but the opposing keeper was patient and held his position.

Even as Suk closed in on the right post, the keeper refused to charge.

Suk came to a sudden stop. Realizing he had no angle to shoot, he had no choice but to cut the ball back diagonally.

Modric timed his run perfectly, meeting the pass and easily slotting the ball into the bottom-left corner of the net.

Nearing the 90-minute mark, Mostar Zrinjski extended their lead once again.

That would be the final goal of the match.

When the final whistle blew, Mostar Zrinjski had defeated Sarajevo Railway Workers 3-1.

Suk only managed one assist in the match and didn’t score any goals himself, but his performance was undeniably worthy of praise.