"ssi has been substituted! In this match, ssi covered a lot of distance. From the very beginning, Barcelona focused their attacks around ssi. At this point in the ga, his stamina must be nearly depleted!"
"ssi coming off is a huge relief for AC Milan. Their defense can finally breathe a little easier!"
"But AC Milan shouldn't underestimate Bojan. He's a prodigy who once broke a whole series of ssi's youth records!"
Bojan stepped onto the pitch. After scanning the field, he had just reached his position when a mangy mutt appeared in front of him.
"You're ssi's successor?" Pato walked up to Bojan before leaving the field.
The guy bead a wide grin, clearly pleased with himself. He said this in clunky Spanish and then winked, as if hinting at sothing deeper.
Bojan's eyebrows suddenly furrowed, and his heart began to race.
He had felt fine just a mont ago—but now, Pato's words made his arm go slightly numb.
A warning sign of a panic attack!On the other side, Suker and Kaká gathered together.
"ssi's off. Our back line should hold now."
"We just need to defend the lead."
So far, AC Milan's match plan had been executed perfectly.
Pato had even been an unexpected bonus. One single slip-up, and it could've all fallen apart.
But now, the situation was firmly under control for AC Milan.
Guardiola's substitution wasn't about chasing victory—it was to try and reduce the deficit for the second leg.
And AC Milan wouldn't give them that chance.
In fact, Suker was looking to add another goal on the counter and further expand the lead.
As the two chatted, a piercing whistle suddenly rang out.
Suker and Kaká turned their heads—only to see the referee sprinting toward the sideline, where Pato and Bojan were grabbing each other's collars, on the verge of throwing punches.
"Hey!"
"You two, stop it!"
Players from both sides rushed over. Kaká held Pato back tightly.
Pato looked furious, shouting that he wanted to fight.
On the other side, Bojan was cursing out Pato in Spanish—too fast to understand exactly what he was saying, but it was clearly not pretty.
The sudden conflict caught everyone off guard.
Once the two were separated, Suker walked up to Pato.
"What did you do?"
Pato turned his head and snapped, "What do you an what did I do? He started it. He insulted my family!"
Suker raised an eyebrow."You understand Spanish?"
Pato hesitated and muttered under his breath, "Just two sentences."
"Which two?"
"'You're ssi's successor' and... 'Fk your mother.'"**
Suker burst out laughing."You told Bojan he's ssi's successor?"
Pato looked deeply wronged.
"I was complinting him—and he cussed out!"
Pato had hoped Bojan would respond with, "And you're Suker's successor."
You know, a bit of friendly mutual flattery.
But instead, Bojan ca back with a "F**k your mother."
Of course Pato got pissed!
Suker shook his head as Pato was pulled away by teammates.
This guy had a real knack for stepping on landmines.
That must've been the last thing Bojan wanted to hear.
But even so, Pato's unintended action helped AC Milan waste ti. More importantly, Suker noticed sothing:
Bojan was clutching his right arm with his left hand, and his right arm was slightly trembling.
Pato had triggered his condition!
Not exactly the most ethical strategy...
But Suker still gave Pato a ntal thumbs-up.
"What's Bojan doing?"
While dribbling down the wing, Bojan cut inside, and when he tried to flick the ball with the outside of his boot, he overdid it and knocked the ball out of bounds.
Even Simic, who was marking him closely, was confused.
He hadn't even applied pressure yet.
And this guy just lost the ball like that?
Simic didn't get it at all. Suker ran over, tsking in amazent.
"Look what you've done to the poor kid!"
Simic muttered under his breath but didn't dare say anything out loud.
Suker jogged off—he'd just co over to talk trash anyway.
That was just the start. Bojan continued to make mistake after mistake.
Mishandled balls, stiff feints, hesitation—countless basic errors.
This completely disrupted Barcelona's attack down his side.
Guardiola frowned. He didn't understand.
Bojan had played Champions League before—he wasn't this bad.
Could it be that the pressure from AC Milan was just too much?
Or maybe the pressure of playing in a quarterfinal was overwhelming him?
Guardiola was on the right track, but he couldn't figure it out completely.
Only Bojan—and Suker—knew the real reason for Bojan's collapse.
Bojan's continued errors left Barcelona passive and disorganized.
AC Milan was more than happy to see it.
Suker was starting to really like Pato.
Sure, he acted like a dumb mutt, but he was their lucky charm!
Just in this match alone, Pato's impact had been maxed out.
Scoring in 24 seconds put Barcelona on the back foot imdiately.
Then when Bojan ca on, Pato ssed with his head and possibly triggered a panic attack.
If there was an MVP vote, Suker would 100% give it to Pato!
So many of his accidental actions helped AC Milan seal the win.
In injury ti, Barcelona switched tactics—they began focusing on possession and defense.
They knew their chances of scoring were too low.
With Bojan like this, it was basically like playing a man down—if not worse.
Their only option was to stabilize and not concede again, then return ho and fight for pride.
AC Milan was more than happy to go along with that.
Barcelona giving up on attacking? Perfect.
Soon, the final whistle blew—the match was over.
"It's over! What an unexpected result—everyone thought AC Milan would struggle, but they beat Barcelona 2–0 at ho in the first leg!"
"This hugely boosts their chances of advancing. This is AC Milan—no matter how many issues they face with their lineup, their experience gives them the edge!"
As the match ended, Ancelotti walked up to Guardiola for a handshake.
Ancelotti had a beaming smile.
This was a tactical win—and a psychological one.
Guardiola looked frustrated but still kept his gentlemanly deanor.
Elsewhere, Suker and ssi swapped jerseys and stood together.
"Your dribbling runs really tore us apart," Suker said.
ssi shook his head. "You too—you scored twice. You played a crucial role."
"Your runs put us under huge pressure too."
After a bit of mutual praise, Suker asked, "How's it going with your girlfriend?"
ssi's eyes lit up. "Great! Once Antonella graduates, she said she's willing to co to Spain."
Suker waved his hand. "Cut to the chase—just sleep with her already!"
ssi grinned. "Too fast!"
"Have I ever steered you wrong?"
ssi shook his head but said firmly, "This ti, I'm going at my own pace. I really value this relationship."
"Alright, your call." Suker shrugged. "Next match, I'm not going easy."
ssi pointed at the pitch. "You guys played dirty."
"All's fair in love and war. It's our ho turf. You guys water the pitch too."
ssi rolled his eyes.
Just then, he spotted Pato bouncing around in front of the stands.
The guy was waving frantically at the crowd, showing off his jersey number and na.
He was even trying to get the fans to chant his na.
"Is he your successor?" ssi asked, glancing at Pato.
Suker shook his head decisively. "Nope!"
ssi smiled. "If Krkić (Bojan) had that kind of personality, things might be different. He just lacks confidence."
There was a hint of regret in ssi's voice.
He wasn't the petty type. If Bojan had the ability, ssi would've gladly shared tactical space with him.
ssi always prioritized the team's success.
Suker sighed. "Trust , too much confidence isn't great either."
Just thinking about how Pato constantly boasted he was Suker's successor—like he wanted to grab a gaphone and announce it—gave Suker a headache.
"Alright, I'm off." ssi waved. "You'd better be ready for the next one!"
Suker raised an eyebrow. "Don't cry when we beat you again."
ssi smirked. "I'm more looking forward to seeing you cry."
"Then you'd better bring your A-ga!"
"Don't worry—victory will be ours!"
As ssi walked away, Suker narrowed his eyes.
Behind that seemingly modest exterior, ssi had an intense hunger to win.
And without that drive, he never would've reached the top.
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