"Their playing style has changed!"Unović couldn't help but mutter.
The last time they played against Mostar Wanderers, the opponents' tactics were simple and direct counterattacks.
Their midfield had only one playmaker—Mlinar.
Because of that, it was easy to neutralize them. As long as they locked down Mlinar, that short number 9 couldn't make any breakthroughs.
But in this match, their tactics were completely different.
Although still a bit raw, there was significant variation in their offensive play.
Especially the frequent dropbacks by Suke to receive the ball—not only did it relieve the pressure on Mlinar, but it also created chaos in their own defensive line.
The fans of Mostar Wanderers were still cheering loudly for the goal.
They loved watching games, but they loved brilliant goals even more.
And this one, with its smooth and fluid build-up, was a feast for the eyes.
After scoring, Suke ran a lap around the pitch, arms spread like an airplane, his round face beaming with joy.
As the celebrations ended amid the electric atmosphere, Suke and his teammates returned to their half of the field, still grinning.
Even though they couldn't advance this season, they managed to deliver a heavy blow to the champions in the final match—what a satisfying way to end things.
Once the game resumed, Suke's movement became more agile.
He no longer just pushed forward but constantly dropped back to support.
Sometimes he linked up with Mlinar, other times he passed wide.
If an opportunity arose, Suke didn't shy away from taking on defenders, although that wasn't easy—Unović was already using his body to contain him.
At times, it escalated to outright hugging.
Unović let go of the little guy in his arms, wearing a look of frustration and embarrassment.
He was even prepared to get booked for such ugly defending.
The referee's gaze was growing increasingly stern.
Even though the Bosnian league was known for its rough play, it still followed football rules.
And hugging was certainly not allowed.
But without doing that, he truly had no way of stopping Suke.
The agile little guy danced around like a monkey, every touch catching Unović off guard.
You could imagine the pressure Unović was under.
Before the game, he had talked tough—had he known this would happen, he would've kept his mouth shut.
But soon, Leotar launched a quick counterattack of their own.
Their tactics were simple.
"Shoot from distance! Their goalkeeper often fumbles! Forwards, be ready for rebounds!"
They shouted their tactics out loud, with no attempt to hide anything.
For those familiar with Mostar Wanderers, this was the easiest way to win.
"Damn it!"
Goalkeeper Bakic was instantly on high alert.
He tightened the brand-new gloves on his hands. They had excellent grip and would reduce the chance of fumbling.
Of course, hand technique was still key, but he just couldn't seem to fix that.
Boom!!
Leotar's number 10, Kaspero, took a long-range shot.
As their core player, wearing the number 10 jersey showed his comprehensive skill.
When the ball rocketed toward the goal, Bakic dove with full extension, fingertips brushing the ball.
The power almost caused him to fumble—but this time, he held firm.
He landed sideways, arms wrapped tightly around the ball.
Only after the opposing striker backed off did he get up and roar:
"You think I'm a joke?!"
Suke raised his hands up front and shouted, "Awesome!"
The others were fired up too.
If Butterfingers Bakic didn't fumble, what reason did they have to lose?
With renewed momentum, Mostar Wanderers surged forward again.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Time flew, the match was intense.
With only a one-goal lead, Leotar pushed hard to equalize.
Mostar Wanderers, on the other hand, aimed to extend their lead.
In the second half, both sides stuck to their tactical guns, relying on their strengths to attack.
But Mostar Wanderers clearly held the advantage.
That edge came from Suke's relentless movement up front.
His short passes, support runs, decoy movements, and occasional volleys all piled pressure on the opponent.
Thanks to his stellar play, Mlinar's burden eased, and his performance improved noticeably.
Around the 80th minute, Mlinar noticed the opposing defense had dropped deep, and Suke was pressing the back line.
With no defenders nearby, and the goalkeeper poorly positioned, Mlinar swung his leg and blasted a shot.
The powerful shot flew straight toward Suke.
Suke saw it coming and shouted in panic, dodging instinctively.
"Crap!"
He twisted his body, but the ball still grazed him, causing a slight deflection.
That tiny deflection threw the goalkeeper's judgment off—he fumbled—and the ball rolled right through his legs.
Mostar Wanderers scored again in the final stages.
"Oh!! What a world-class screamer!!"
Oripé raised both arms in celebration.
That goal practically sealed the match.
But what made him even happier was that Mostar Wanderers hadn't conceded a goal.
For a team averaging one goal conceded per game, keeping a clean sheet against the champions was a big deal.
"Fantastic, boss!"
"Well done!"
The teammates rushed to celebrate with Mlinar.
Suke was a bit late, his round face full of hesitation.
'That goal should count as mine, right? Probably?'
Clap clap clap clap clap!
Thunderous applause echoed in the stadium, with cheers all around.
"Great shot, Mlinar!"
"Suke! You were awesome!"
"If Bakic doesn't fumble, there's no way we're losing! Hahaha!"
The crowd was thrilled. Beating the champions in the season finale—and doing it with style—was more than enough for them.
The cheers continued long after the final whistle.
The 2001/2002 season, the second Bosnian Second Division League, came to a close.
Mostar Wanderers finished third.
But with 14 goals, Suke claimed the season's Golden Boot.
A simple silver boot trophy, clearly cheaply made—but Suke happily accepted it and posed for photos.
This was his first-ever trophy. Even if it was a personal award, it was a great start.
"Congrats!"
Modrić walked over.
He looked at the sweaty and disheveled Suke and sincerely offered his congratulations.
He had witnessed Suke's effort in this match—running tirelessly, creating passing lanes for teammates.
And his goal helped Mostar Wanderers secure the win. He deserved this trophy.
"Haha! Come on! Let's take a photo together!"
Suke pulled Modrić over and called for Oripé to take a picture.
The height difference was noticeable.
Modrić wore a hooded jacket, hands at his sides, looking a bit awkward.
Suke, meanwhile, held the trophy with a big grin.
Click!
The photo was taken—later dubbed the "Friendship of the Century" in football history.
"Where's Suke?"
Mlinar walked over.
Modrić looked around, puzzled. "He was just here."
Mlinar shrugged. "Probably went to the bathroom. There's a party tonight, you coming?"
Modrić shook his head immediately.
He didn't like those kinds of gatherings.
"Alright then."
Mlinar didn't push and left.
At the same time, behind a small secluded hill, Suke was praying to the heavens.
"All deities above, please bless me!"
He opened his stats panel first.
[Name: Suke][Height: 151 cm][Weight: 48 kg][Speed: 71][Agility: 80][Strength: 60][Explosiveness: 77]
Suke: "!!!——"
As soon as he saw the stats panel, Suk nearly lost it.
He rubbed his eyes and checked the height stat again. Then rubbed again—confirming it was 151 cm—he jumped up.
He'd grown taller!He'd actually grown!!
Suke remembered being 149 cm before—he claimed 150 out of pride—but now he'd genuinely grown 2 cm.
That was amazing news!
He was finally hitting puberty!
Tears welled in Suke's eyes.
Starting the stats panel with good news, Suke felt his luck was strong today.
After calming down, he opened the personal panel.
On the diagram of a human body were six embedded cards.
[Diamond Card (Special)] — Inzaghi's Awareness[Red Card (Skill)] — Torrist's Short Passing[White Card (Skill)] — Toni's Interceptions[Red Card (Special)] — Condition Recovery Card[White Card (Skill)] — Roberts' Dribbling[White Card (Skill)] — Leiston's Finishing
Compared to the previous meager three cards, after a full season of effort, not only did he have red cards now, but all slots were full.
Though quality still left room for improvement, Suke felt that in some aspects, he could already match the intensity of the Bosnian Premier League—except for his physical limitations.
The condition recovery card was always equipped—just in case.
In the future, he planned to reserve a card slot specifically for these.
Given the draw system's mechanic, once a card was equipped, it couldn't be swapped again for 45 minutes—perfect for halftime changes during official matches.
That way, Suke could adapt his skills and style to the coach's demands for each half.
After a quick check of his inventory, it was time for the exciting moment.
Match Draw + Season Draw Rewards!
The former was usually average, but the latter—now that was the big prize.
Last time it gave a stat card—what would it be this time?