"Wenger talks about his biggest regret in missing out on a player" — The Sun
One day, The Sun suddenly released a headline-grabbing story.
It was an article written by one of the tabloid's editors:
"Throughout Arsène Wenger's career at Arsenal, he missed out on countless players due to financial limitations. In 2002, Wenger failed to sign Cristiano Ronaldo, and he has responded to that regret before!"
"Ronaldo's current performances at Manchester United speak for themselves, but when it cos to the player Wenger regrets missing most—it has to be him!"
Below the article was a photo.
A younger, shorter Suker is seen wearing an Arsenal jersey, clutching a piece of bread, captured candidly on the street.
"According to insiders, Suker was once very close to joining Arsenal, but due to ideological differences and Arsenal being unable to afford his transfer fee, the deal fell through!"
"Suker joined AC Milan last year and has now beco a regular starter. His performances mark him as a rising star among the younger generation!"
"Is Suker Wenger's eternal regret? Is the Professor still lanting that missed opportunity?"
Suker held the article in his hand, mouth slightly agape.
This Sun, I swear…
What's with this unmistakably clickbaity tone, like sothing off social dia?
And where did they get that photo?
Suker vaguely rembered wearing that Arsenal jersey. Back when he played for Zrinjski Mostar, his coach Oripé was a die-hard Arsenal fan and had a few Arsenal kits at ho. Suker wore one a few tis when he had no clean clothes.
But now The Sun sohow unearthed that photo.
Even Suker didn't know who took it, or when it was taken!
"This article is stirring up a huge buzz across the UK," Zorancic said with a laugh."Many Arsenal fans are now wondering—if you had joined Arsenal, would their overall strength have increased?"
As the Champions League semifinal between Arsenal and AC Milan approached, all kinds of articles and speculations were flooding in.
And now, the spotlight had shifted to Suker.
Indeed, there had once been so transfer discussions between him and Arsenal, but those negotiations quickly fell apart.
Once Milan submitted a bid, Suker leaned toward joining AC Milan anyway.
After all, Arsenal simply couldn't afford his transfer fee at the ti.
What's interesting about The Sun's reporting is how it dodges the real reasons and subtly shifts the narrative—presenting the story as news, but actually trying to stir controversy by playing on Wenger's known love for young talent.
"What's going on over there?" Suker asked.He felt a bit awkward about the report."If this reaches Milan, what will it sound like?!"Arsenal was like an ex, and Milan was the current.Talking about your ex in front of your current? That's asking for trouble.
"Wenger hasn't responded, and neither has Arsenal. They're clearly trying to downplay it," Zorancic replied.
Suker nodded. "That's probably best. If they responded, it would only feed the flas."
Zorancic couldn't stop laughing.
"What's so funny?" Suker asked.Zorancic shook the paper and said, "I'm just happy! Look—Milan vs Arsenal. You've got Henry, Shevchenko, Pirès, Ashley Cole, Pirlo… so many stars. Yet the dia focuses on you. That ans, in the world of football buzz, you're the one with market value!"
"Geniuses and elite clubs are always linked! And when a top club misses a genius—it's even better headline material!"
"Ride this wave of hype. Play well. Build your na even further. I'll get a few dia outlets to keep fanning the flas. Boom—the spotlight stays on you!"
Recently, Zorancic had been learning from Gisele Bündchen's PR team. Being around them had given him a crash course in modern dia strategies.
And he was making impressive progress.
"First, build a persona. Sell a story. Gain fa. Package the narrative. Capture attention. Then imdiately spin up a new hot topic. Repeat this process. Keep the spotlight fixed on you."
Suker waved his hand. "That's your job. I just need to play football."
Then he stood up.
"Where are you going?""Youth team et-and-greet."
Every month, Milan would send a first-team player to the youth academy for a bit of "interaction."
It was more about showing face than actual engagent.
Each top academy had its own version of "ntal conditioning"—constantly instilling ssages like: We're elite, we have a glorious history, playing for us is your honor.
Suker completely understood.
Clubs spent years developing players, only for them to leave without signing? That hurts.
But from the young players' perspective, those who blindly worshiped the club or were obsessed with loyalty… Suker couldn't quite understand that.
That kind of mindset ca from a full belly.
Let them go hungry a few tis—they'd think differently.
At Milan's youth training center, Suker stood beside the youth director, who was giving an impassioned speech.
The young players kept stealing glances at Suker, as if he were a zoo animal.
He felt totally out of place.
The youth director kept pointing at Suker and yelling things like:
"Look! This is Milan's star talent! His present is your future! Learn from him!"
Screw that.
Professional football is not that easy.
Suker knew most of the kids here would never set foot on the San Siro pitch. Half of them would spend their careers in the lower leagues.
He grumbled inwardly.
The director then handed him the mic and gestured for him to speak.
Suker sighed, then quickly adopted a passionate tone and gave an energetic speech.
No choice.
It's part of the job!
He delivered the full "motivation package" and sold the dream. The kids' eyes were shining.
The youth match kicked off.
Suker couldn't leave—he had to stay and watch.
Sitting on the grass by the field, bored out of his mind, he heard soone shout:
"Suker!"
He turned and saw, "Bob?"
It was Bob, leader of the South Stand ultras.
"You're this month's youth team guest?" Bob asked.
"That's . I'm here to deliver—ahem—an inspirational speech."
Bob pointed at the field: "See #8? That's my son."
Suker looked and nodded. "He's playing well."
Bullshit.
The kid was a textbook holding midfielder—limited passing range, no creativity, only short passes, can't hit a long ball.
Ran like hell. Physically strong.
But poor positional awareness.
All over Europe, fans sent their semi-talented kids into youth academies to try their luck.
But after strict filtering, most got dropped.
Youth training was brutal.
Each year, large groups were cut.
New ones ca in. The cycle repeated.
True talents were always promoted early.
For example, the real geniuses in the U14s were already playing with the U16s.
In two years, they'd go straight to the B team or first team.
If they shined, they stayed. If they were average, they waited in the B team. If they sucked—they were gone.
Especially in big clubs, this was the norm.
"Honestly, he's not great. I don't expect him to play like you. I just hope he gets a shot at the first team. If not, back to school," Bob said.
Suker replied, "Then you should start planning early."
Bob nodded. "Football's about talent. Hard work matters—but it's not the deciding factor."
The two chatted casually.
"How's the prep for the next match?" Bob asked.
Suker: "Not bad. I can't say much."
"Can we win?"
"Who knows?" Suker shrugged. "We haven't kicked off yet. Anything can happen. But we're in good form."
Bob smiled: "That's all I needed to hear."
Then he sighed.
"Two more Champions League matches—and it's the final."
Suker raised an eyebrow: "You're acting like we're already through."
"Will we lose?"
"No," Suker said, shaking his head.
Bob chuckled. "Last year's final was a nightmare."
Suker nodded.
"At halfti, everyone thought we had it in the bag. Then fate played a cruel joke."
"Milan was nailed to the wall of sha. Even if we win 100 Champions Leagues, the world will rember Istanbul."
Then Bob said:
"Suker…"
Suker turned.
"Bring us a Champions League title."
Suker replied: "You should tell that to Andriy."
"He'll do his part. But I believe in you more."
Suker paused, surprised.
Bob smiled.
"You probably don't know how popular you are among fans. In fact, even when you were at Dinamo Zagreb, a lot of Milan fans were already watching you. Last season, your magical Champions League performances amazed everyone."
"Especially you—always running relentlessly, even in tough situations, chasing every opportunity."
He paused.
"This ti—you'll run for Milan too, won't you?"
"Hell yeah!" Suker stood up, patted his backside, pointed at Bob. "Just watch—I'm the best there is!"
Bob watched him walk away with a grin.
He loved that confidence in Suker.
And Suker, through his performances, was shaping Milan's very identity.
Bob looked up at the clear sky.
"This sumr… should be scorching enough."
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