"Good morning!"
The weather was bright and sunny as Suker stood in front of the team bus, sipping coffee and greeting his teammates.
Yesterday, the squad list for the away match against Arsenal had been announced, and today they would head to London a day early to prepare.
One by one, the Real Madrid players arrived, exchanging greetings with Suker before boarding the bus.
Among them was the young Dani Carvajal, visibly excited as he climbed aboard.
Carvajal and two others had successfully passed the first-team trials and secured their spots.
But this was just the beginning.
Securing a place in Real Madrid's starting lineup was the real challenge.
For this Champions League match, Carvajal had earned a spot on the bench through hard work and performance—though his chances of playing were slim.
Still, the opportunity to experience the Champions League atmosphere thrilled him.
Just two months ago, he'd been playing in Spain's fourth division. Now, he was heading to London for Europe's elite competition.
Carvajal, a product of Real Madrid's youth academy, was part of the Spanish contingent, and Iker Casillas had taken him under his wing.
He often tried to strike up conversations with Suker, but the Croatian rarely indulged him.
Soon, Mourinho arrived, and the traveling squad was complete.
After a headcount, the bus pulled out of the training base, heading for the airport.
——
"Arsenal's league position isn't that high."
"The Premier League is different—table position doesn't always reflect a team's quality."
The Premier League was currently the most competitive of Europe's top five leagues.
The "Big Six," surprise packages, and desperate relegation battlers made for a brutal internal grind.
In recent seasons, Premier League teams had underperformed in Europe, largely due to the toll of domestic battles.
Torn between league commitments and European ambitions, they often fell short in both.
It was hard to believe this was once considered a "retirement league."
La Liga remained a two-horse race between Real Madrid and Barcelona, who dominated domestically and in Europe.
While the mid-to-lower-table teams were unremarkable, the league's elite were unmatched.
Many argued the Champions League had become a private duel between Spain's giants.
In the Bundesliga, Bayern Munich's usual dominance was under threat.
After losing home and away to Borussia Dortmund, they trailed the upstarts by nine points.
Under the scruffy genius of Jürgen Klopp, Dortmund's young guns were charging toward the title.
Serie A had entered a Milanese duopoly.
With Inter Milan struggling early, AC Milan had seized the initiative, prioritizing the league over Europe in their veterans' twilight years.
Lyon's Ligue 1 hegemony was fading.
Years of selling stars had eroded their strength, with Marseille and Lille now challenging their supremacy.
On an individual level, Suker remained the standout performer.
Fresh off his 2010 Ballon d'Or win, his reputation had soared further.
The "five goals in nine minutes" feat had cemented his legend.
While not quite at Ronaldo (the original)'s stratospheric peak, he was closing the gap.
The only missing piece was a World Cup.
Winning it would complete his trophy cabinet and elevate his legacy.
To challenge Maradona and Pelé's godlike status, he might need a second World Cup.
Pelé had three; Maradona one—but the latter's 1986 triumph, carrying an average Argentina squad single-handedly, was the stuff of myth.
Back then, tactics were less refined, and individual brilliance could tilt matches.
Modern football's systemic approach made such heroics nearly impossible.
Even Suker, at his peak, couldn't solo-carry a team now.
——
The plane began its descent into London.
As Real Madrid emerged from the airport, cameras flashed wildly.
The players boarded their bus and headed straight to the hotel.
"So this is the Emirates," Suker mused, gazing at the stadium from his window.
Arsenal had moved here in 2006-07. During his AC Milan days, they'd still played at Highbury.
Now, Highbury was a construction site.
The two grounds were just streets apart.
The Emirates' left side bordered railway tracks—a unique urban backdrop where passing trains offered glimpses of the pitch.
Highbury was being redeveloped into apartments, its hallowed turf destined to become gardens.
From his window, Suker could see both.
"With their own stadium, Wenger should have funds to spend now," Kaká remarked.
The "Wenger only likes kids" meme stemmed from financial constraints.
Who wouldn't want stars? They were just expensive.
Back then, even €30 million for Suker was beyond Arsenal's means.
But with the Emirates' revenue, surely things had improved?
Suker shook his head.
He respected Wenger deeply—his intelligence, his loyalty.
The Frenchman had shouldered Arsenal's burdens through lean years.
"Fourth-place specialists" was a backhanded compliment to his overachieving with limited resources.
Suker admired Wenger but disagreed with his approach.
If it were me, I'd have walked away long ago.
Not joining Arsenal had been the right call—for both sides.
Srna suddenly asked, "What if you'd joined Arsenal back then?"
Suker shrugged. "No point speculating."
Kaká stroked his chin. "It'd have been extreme, either way."
"How so?"
"Either he'd have won Arsenal their first Champions League, transforming them into giants..."
"Or he'd have burned the place to the ground and gotten them relegated."
Srna gasped.
That was... dramatic.
But knowing Suker's temperament, if he'd gained influence in the dressing room, chaos would've followed.
Not that Srna doubted his ability to thrive.
Suker was a master of playing the long game—humble beginnings at Zrinjski and Milan proved that.
Once he rose, he was unstoppable.
"You're insane," Suker rolled his eyes. "In that scenario, I'd have left ASAP. No way I'd stick around."
Loyalty wasn't in his vocabulary. What good was it if you couldn't eat?
——
At Arsenal's training ground, the squad watched Real Madrid's arrival on TV.
Tension filled the room.
Facing this juggernaut—unbeaten in all competitions—was daunting.
"Why did it have to be Real Madrid? Anyone else would've been better!" Alex Song groaned.
Even at home, the odds felt stacked against them.
"We still have a chance," Fàbregas said, though doubt gnawed at him.
If they'd struggled against Wolves, how could they handle Real?
Few outside England gave them hope.
Upsets were thrilling—but Real Madrid weren't ideal underdogs.
And then there was Suker.
The mere thought made Fàbregas grit his teeth.
He remembered his own Arsenal transfer saga—delayed because Wenger had hesitated over signing Suker.
Those wasted hours still rankled.
Without Suker's unaffordable price tag, Arsenal's iconic No. 4 might never have been his.
Van Persie's expression was equally grim.
Early in his career, he'd been dubbed "the new Bergkamp"—a label that stuck.
But only he knew the truth: he'd been Suker's backup plan.
This open secret had haunted him since his arrival, with Henry and Pires ribbing him about it.
Last time they'd faced Real, Van Persie had been an unused sub, helpless as Milan dismantled Arsenal.
Now, as a starter, he was determined to prove his worth.
For many Arsenal players, Suker's shadow loomed large—a constant reminder they were second choices.
"Let's show Real what we're made of," Fàbregas declared.
His teammates nodded fiercely.
——
The next day, North London buzzed with anticipation.
Arsenal fans dared to dream, however faintly.
Then there were the trolls—Tottenham supporters, openly cheering for Real Madrid.
North London's bitter rivals had beaten AC Milan 1-0 the previous day, rubbing salt in the wound.
Once, Arsenal had swatted Spurs aside effortlessly. Now, the tables were turning.
Though loath to admit it, Spurs were on the rise—with van der Vaart and Gareth Bale firing them to a group-stage topping Champions League campaign.
While Arsenal had scraped through in second place—a fact Spurs fans never let them forget.
Instead of trading barbs with Real's fans, Arsenal's faithful turned their ire toward their neighbors.
——
That afternoon, Real Madrid arrived at the Emirates.
Compared to Highbury, it was bigger, slicker, and gleamingly modern.
In the tunnel, murals of Arsenal legends lined the walls.
Suker paused at Bergkamp's image, struck by a sudden sense of time passing.
They hadn't overlapped much—Bergkamp's twilight years were Suker's dawn.
But they'd shared a pitch, making this moment poignant.
At 24, though, Suker was entering his prime, his confidence unshakable.
As the teams warmed up, the Emirates roared to life.
Arsenal's players grew visibly tense, while Real Madrid's composure reflected their winning streak.
This was a team forged in victory.
Arsenal (4-4-2):
GK: Szczęsny
DEF: Koscielny, Clichy, Djourou, Sagna
MID: Wilshere, Song, Fàbregas, Nasri
FWD: Walcott, van Persie
Real Madrid (4-4-2):
GK: Casillas
DEF: Srna, Ramos, Pepe, Marcelo
MID: Kaká, Khedira, Alonso, Di María
FWD: Benzema, Suker
"Welcome to the 2010-11 Champions League round of 16! Arsenal host Real Madrid at the Emirates!"
"After finishing second in their group behind Shakhtar Donetsk, Arsenal face a monumental task against a Real Madrid side that won all six group games!"
"Can Arsenal's attack breach Real's defense? And can they contain Suker?"
English commentator Mark Lawrenson bellowed:
"The teams are in position—Real Madrid will kick off the first half..."
The crowd erupted as Champions League football returned after its winter hiatus.
All eyes were on Suker, bouncing in his trademark pre-game routine.
Each hop sent a jolt of dread through Arsenal fans.
Media hype had painted him as an unstoppable force—and Real's relentless form only amplified the fear.
Peep!
The whistle blew.
The battle was on.