Chapter 54 - 52: Signature Outside of the Foot

Just nine minutes into the match, Mostar Zrinjski scored a goal, suppressing their opponents with an excellent high press.

This was something no one had anticipated before the match.

Everyone expected a fierce match, but given the defensive solidity of both teams, no one thought a goal would come so early, nor did they expect many goals at all.

But after that goal, everything seemed to change.

Especially for Mostar Zrinjski, a team whose style had completely transformed.

Was this still the same team that only knew how to jump for headers and hoof long balls up the field?

There was so much nuance to that attack.

From the moment Suk broke through on the flank, the runs from Kosopech and Billiar began to pull the opposing defense out of position, creating space for Modric to run onto for a shot.

Although the opponent caught on, Suk used his nimble footwork at the byline to feign a forceful breakthrough, forcing Ivan Krich to fall back. This once again created space for Modric, who ultimately took the shot.

It was safe to say Sarajevo was completely blindsided by this goal.

The pressure Suk put on them from the flank was immense.

Jorijac scrambled up from the ground, his face fraught with anxiety.

Suk had beaten him twice in a row, and those two encounters made him realize just how fast Suk was.

He initially thought he could contain him, but after that, he realized he just couldn't keep up.

Tolister and Meškapeci also wore grim expressions.

Their earlier ease was completely gone. The match was only nine minutes in, but so many surprises had already occurred, catching them completely off guard.

Up front, Suk Bazic was also looking solemn.

He hadn't received a single pass since the match began, something that had never happened before.

Both Tolister and Meškapeci were skilled passers; they wouldn't normally leave him in such a predicament.

The two wingers could also break through to the byline and cross the ball, creating chances for him to win headers.

But in these nine minutes, none of that had happened.

Of course, Suk Bazic also glanced over at the other Suk, who was celebrating with his teammates.

This guy who shared his name was putting on a truly excellent performance.

Suk Bazic and the other Sarajevo players had to admit it: they had underestimated Suk.

"Get your heads up! Let's stabilize and get one back!"

As the captain, Ivan Krich clapped his hands, loudly trying to boost their morale.

This was no time for discouragement. They were playing at home, and this was a battle for the top of the league table. Losing would be a true disgrace.

"Luka, beautiful goal!"

Suk held out his palm.

Modric swung his hand to meet it.

SLAP!

"Beautiful pass!"

The two laughed and shared a brief hug.

Modric's expression was ecstatic.

Clearly, he was thrilled to have scored the opening goal against Sarajevo.

Of course, they couldn't get complacent. There was still a long way to go until the end of the match.

Suk Bazic stood at the center circle again, his expression even more serious than before.

At the same time, his fighting spirit burned even brighter.

Behind him, Tolister, Meškapeci, and the others didn't dare to be careless either.

When the match restarted, Mostar Zrinjski employed the same tactic, immediately rushing forward with an aggressive press, trying to recreate the same situation as before.

This time, however, Sarajevo was ready for it. Meškapeci dropped deep to help his defenders play the ball out from the back.

Meanwhile, Tolister also dropped into a holding midfield position to help move the ball.

They thought that by increasing their ability to play out from the back, they could turn the tide, but they were wrong.

When the ball reached Tolister's feet, he was met with an even more ferocious press.

This time, it wasn't just Suk and Modric, but Billiar joining the press as well.

Facing the three-man trap, Tolister looked a bit panicked.

Even though he was Sarajevo's core player with excellent technical skill, facing the frantic pressure from three men, even he couldn't find a way out.

He wanted to turn and pass back, but Kosopech was already there, cutting off his passing lane completely.

After a brief struggle, Modric finally managed to poke the ball away from him.

Frustrated at losing the ball, Tolister immediately tried to press and win it back.

But Modric flicked the ball to Suk, who was off to the side.

Tolister charged at Suk, who immediately passed it back to Modric.

Tolister turned and charged toward Modric.

Before he even got there, the ball was back at Suk's feet.

Tolister stopped in his tracks, watching Suk like a hawk.

Suk blinked. 'Not going to press anymore?'

'If you're not going to press, I'm not going to pass!'

Suk turned and dribbled the ball toward the sideline. Only when an opponent finally came to pressure him did he casually pass it back.

Seeing this, the entire stadium fell silent once more.

Was this the same Sarajevo they all knew?

Was this still the championship-winning team?

Tolister was their core player, one of the most technically gifted and capable players in the entire Bosnia and Herzegovina League.

But right now, he was being run ragged, made to look like a fool.

Compared to the high-spirited Mostar Zrinjski, Sarajevo was in complete disarray.

Mostar Zrinjski's press was ferocious, and it had completely shattered the rhythm of their opponent's midfield.

Possession was back with Mostar Zrinjski, who passed it around with confidence, leaving Sarajevo in an extremely passive position.

"I never expected Sarajevo to be playing this passively. Last round, Tuzla Slobođa was slaughtered, and we thought it was just a fluke. But looking at the situation now, this Mostar Zrinjski team has completely transformed, and they've unveiled a powerful new tactical system that is completely foreign to us."

The commentator, Basodachi, said with a grave tone.

He had expected a clash of titans.

He had expected a fierce contest.

He had even considered that Sarajevo might deploy specific tactics to counter Mostar Zrinjski, just as they had before.

But he never imagined the match would turn out like this.

Sarajevo Club—a team with a backline of Bosnia and Herzegovina internationals, two midfielders who had played in the Five Major Leagues, and the genius Suk Bazic—was being run ragged.

Moreover, Mostar Zrinjski had begun to rely on controlled, positional attacks, gradually pushing forward.

「Ten minutes later.」

"Left! Left!"

"Hold the line!"

THWACK!!

"Don't worry about him!"

"Stay on him!"

"Don't let him shoot!"

BOOM!

"Push up! Push up!"

"Dammit!"

Mostar Zrinjski had Sarajevo pinned down, unleashing a furious barrage of attacks.

With Modric and Suk at the heart of their passing game, they swarmed the opposing backline, relentlessly applying pressure.

During this onslaught, Sarajevo did manage a few counter-attacks.

The goalkeeper would throw the ball out to their center-forward, Suk Bazic, who had dropped back. Bazic would hold off his man, waiting for his teammates to push forward.

But his teammates never came. Instead, the first to arrive were Modric and Suk, who swarmed him.

It was another three-man trap. Despite Suk Bazic's powerful physique, he was still brought down by the combined effort of the three players. Mostar Zrinjski consistently used this method to stifle any counter-attacks.

Suk Bazic scrambled to his feet, his eyes burning with fury.

This was an incredibly frustrating match to play.

"A defensive counter-attack relies on the speed of the transition from defense to offense. We have two tireless runners in Suk and Modric. They're always the first to get back into position, and that's why Sarajevo can't get their counter-attacks going!"

Van Stiake said, his arms crossed over his chest.

Even though they were a goal ahead, he knew it wasn't a safe lead.

'If we could just score one more goal…'

And speak of the devil...

Just then, Mostar Zrinjski put together a string of quick passes near the edge of the penalty area.

Suk and Modric used a quick one-two to penetrate the opposition's defensive line, throwing them into disarray once again.

After making the final pass, Suk made a sharp, direct run forward, drawing defenders with him.

Modric, running onto Suk's pass, suddenly changed direction. He leaned his entire body in toward his plant foot, drew his right leg back, and struck the ball viciously with the outside of his boot.

"Whoa!"

Suk exclaimed.

It was Modric's signature outside-of-the-boot shot.

The ball sailed over the crowd, bending in a beautiful arc toward the top-right corner.

The Sarajevo goalkeeper dove with all his might. He managed to get his fingertips to the ball, but it wasn't enough to parry it away.

In the end, the ball rippled the back of the net.

A brace for Modric.

Mostar Zrinjski 2, Sarajevo 0.

This goal was a crushing blow to Sarajevo.

They were already trailing by one, and now the deficit had been doubled.

"Don't let him shoot! Don't you know how dangerous his long shots are?"

After getting to his feet, the goalkeeper, Ivanqi, began to complain furiously.

His tone was tinged with despair.

Anyone would feel this way after being so dominated from the start, especially since this was an opponent they had once completely suppressed.

How the tables have turned. Now, Sarajevo was the one being utterly dominated.

And their situation was incredibly bleak!

At the 33-minute mark, Mostar Zrinjski extended their lead again thanks to Modric's signature outside-of-the-boot shot.

With his second goal, Modric was making this match his personal highlight reel.

Modric spread his arms wide in celebration, his expression one of pure elation.

He was having the time of his life in this match, enjoying it more than any game before.

Modric was on top of the world.

The reporters in the stands aimed their cameras at Modric, furiously snapping photos of the genius from Croatia.