"Luka, your talent is unmatched. You just haven't adapted to the Bosnian league yet. Next season, I'll give you more opportunities, more tactical involvement. I believe that together, we can create an unprecedented brilliance for HSK!"
A young man and a teenager.
One is Modrić, the other is Fanja Van Stuyck, the Dutch head coach of Zrinjski Mostar.
Van Stuyck is 33 years old, a capable assistant coach from the Netherlands. He once worked alongside Bobby Robson at PSV Eindhoven, one of the Dutch Big Three.
However, being Dutch, Van Stuyck naturally favored Total Football, which clashed with Robson's philosophy. Robson, being English, preferred quick transitions and counter-attacking—straightforward and direct British football.
After two years of working together, their irreconcilable differences led Van Stuyck to go solo. With the club's support, he was transferred to Zrinjski Mostar in the Bosnian league to gain experience as a head coach.
Van Stuyck is ambitious. Even as an assistant at PSV, his goal was to become a head coach like Guus Hiddink. But because of conflicting visions with Robson, they eventually parted ways.
Now in Mostar, Van Stuyck plans to make a big impact. Especially since the somewhat foolish Dinamo Zagreb had loaned them such a gem.
Modrić's talent was evident to the naked eye. Even though his initial performances in Bosnia were underwhelming, Van Stuyck believed he could shape Modrić into the team's central playmaker and enhance striker Kosović's offensive capabilities.
Once they meshed, he believed they could not only conquer the domestic league—but even challenge in European competitions.
That would be a great addition to his resume.
But first, he needed to motivate and inspire his young star—hence inviting him to watch the World Cup together.
He hoped the World Cup's atmosphere would ignite a fire in Modrić.
As Van Stuyck passionately painted his grand vision, he occasionally glanced at Modrić to gauge his reactions.
Something felt off.
Modrić wasn't watching the match on TV—he was staring intensely at a waiter.
"Luka? Luka?"
Modrić snapped out of it and turned to Van Stuyck. "Yes, coach?"
"What would you like to drink? It's on me tonight," Van Stuyck asked.
He smiled and said, "A cocktail? You probably haven't had alcohol before, right? You should try it—it's a symbol of becoming a man."
Without waiting for a reply, Van Stuyck signaled for a waiter.
Modrić frowned slightly but didn't refuse.
Soon, a cheerful voice greeted them.
"Good evening. Hope you're having a great night—Luka?"
Suke looked surprised as he recognized Modrić.
Modrić smiled and waved at him, no longer absent-minded like earlier.
Van Stuyck raised an eyebrow. "You two know each other?"
Modrić replied simply, "We're friends."
Suke also smiled.
Van Stuyck was surprised—Modrić didn't have the best relationships at the club, so it was odd for him to have a friend.
He examined Suke.
Short, round-faced, with baby fat—he looked even younger than Modrić.
"You're really friends?"
The two nodded in unison.
"Alright," Van Stuyck said, shaking his head. "One dark beer and a special cocktail—light on the alcohol."
Suker turned to Modrić, "You drink?"
Modrić stayed silent.
Suke had learned something over time—this guy was painfully introverted and shy, and didn't know how to say no.
"Have some milk—my treat," Suke offered casually.
Modrić smiled again.
Suke then turned to Van Stuyck and joked, "Sir, your drink will have to be paid separately. Maybe when we get closer, I'll buy you one too!"
Van Stuyck blinked, then chuckled. "Alright, I'll go along with that."
Suke darted off.
Van Stuyck asked, "You made friends here in Mostar?"
Modrić nodded. "It was a coincidence."
Van Stuyck was pleased. If Modrić could make friends, it meant he wasn't a complete social outcast—a good sign.
"One dark beer, one milk, and a steak! That'll be 40 Marks!"
Van Stuyck blinked. "We didn't order steak."
Suke pointed to Modrić. "He's so skinny. He's a pro athlete—he needs good food to grow."
Then he leaned over and whispered to Modrić, "He's paying, right?"
Modrić held back a laugh and nodded.
Suke stretched out his hand again, firmly, "40 Marks."
Van Stuyck shook his head, speechless, but still paid.
As he handed over the cash, Suke noticed the small emblem on Van Stuyck's chest—the badge of Zrinjski Mostar.
His eyes lit up. He turned to Modrić, "Aren't you going to introduce us?"
Modrić hesitated but obliged. "This is Fanja Van Stuyck, head coach of Zrinjski Mostar."
"I knew it!"
Suke cheered internally, then took a seat and smiled at Van Stuyck. "Hello, sir. My name is Suke. I currently play in Bosnia's second division."
"You're a pro?" Van Stuyck was surprised.
He didn't expect someone that small to be a professional footballer.
"Yes, I'm a pro striker!"
"A striker?"
Van Stuyck frowned. He looked no taller than 155 cm (5'1").
A striker that short? Seriously?
"But I'm the top scorer—14 goals in 18 matches!"
Cough cough cough!
Van Stuyck nearly choked on his beer.
"14 goals?" He was stunned.
Suke nodded earnestly.
Van Stuyck replied politely, "That's impressive."
Suke kept staring.
Thinking he hadn't heard, Van Stuyck repeated, "Very impressive."
Suke still stared.
Now Van Stuyck was confused.
What's going on?
Seeing his confusion, Suke scratched his head and sighed—opportunities must be seized.
He took a deep breath, looked Van Stuyck in the eye, and said earnestly:
"Not everyone gets to meet a head coach. I want to become a true professional. I want to play for Zrinjski Mostar."
Clear enough.
"If you have time, I'd like to invite you to watch me play. I promise, I won't disappoint you."
Right then, a customer behind them shouted.
"Three dark beers over here!"
Suke turned and replied, "Coming!"
He glanced back at the stunned Van Stuyck.
"I really won't disappoint you. I'm willing to adapt to any role you need."
"Hey! Three beers!"
As the call came again, Suke darted off.
Just before disappearing, he shouted:
"Don't forget—my name is Suke! I won't let you down!"
Van Stuyck was still dazed. He hadn't expected to get approached like this while having a drink.
And by a 155 cm striker?
He shook his head. That kind of player wasn't what he needed.
"You really should go watch him."
Just as he was about to sip his beer again, Modrić spoke.
Van Stuyck turned to look at him.
"You think so?"
Modrić nodded. "The reason we became friends is because of football. Aside from his height, he meets all the requirements of a top-league player—and he can help us."
He paused and added, "I've played with him many times. His forward runs and my through balls match perfectly. He's the only one who truly understands my passing and vision. In other words, he sees the game like I do."
"He may only be 155 cm, but becoming the top scorer in Bosnia's second division means he has something special."
"I believe you have bold ideas and know how to nurture talent. Once his abilities are developed, he can take us to another level."
It was the first time Van Stuyck had heard Modrić talk so much in one go.
And it was all about one person.
He knew Modrić was extremely proud of his football skills. If someone didn't have enough talent, Modrić wouldn't even give them the time of day—let alone such praise.
Turns out, personal recommendations really work.
From initial disinterest, Van Stuyck now rubbed his chin and stared toward Suke—as if deep in thought.