The regular stage of the UEFA World Cup qualifiers has ended.
The nine teams that secured direct qualification are Denmark, Switzerland, Slovakia, Germany, Spain, Croatia, Serbia, Italy, and the Netherlands.
The best eight runners-up—Greece, England, Portugal, Slovenia, Russia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Ireland, and France—will compete for the remaining four spots, making up the thirteen European national teams heading to the World Cup.
For Suker and his teammates, this will be their first World Cup journey, and their anticipation is running high.
Many of them are already hoping to fast-forward through the season straight into the World Cup.
But of course, before that, they still need to perform well in their leagues.
"We're very happy to have secured the top spot in our group. I think the entire team is looking forward to the 2010 World Cup. It's different from the Euros—it brings teams from all over the world, like Brazil and Argentina."
"Right now, what we need most is to maintain our form while we wait for the World Cup to begin!"
Suker smiled as he gave an interview in front of the caras.
He was grinning so hard it almost reached his ears.
Seeing Suker's joyful expression, Croatian fans beca even more excited.
They, too, are eagerly awaiting the performance of these talented young Croatian players in the World Cup.
Sure, the European Championship is a big tournant!
But it's still not the sa as the World Cup. The Euros are continental, whereas the World Cup is the highest stage in global competition.
It's like climbing to the peak of the world.
Especially with the golden glow of the World Cup trophy—the Jules Rit Trophy—drawing the eyes of millions of fans.
No one dares to dream of winning it right away...
But as reigning European champions, Croatia is undoubtedly a strong contender and carries great expectations.
Besides, these Croatian players are still young. If they miss this World Cup, the next one will likely see them even stronger.
Either way, Croatia looks to have strong World Cup potential for the next two editions.
This is what excites Croatian fans the most.
The World Cup qualifiers are over, but the Croatian players didn't disperse imdiately. Under Srna's arrangent, they gathered for a barbecue party at Suker's villa.
A reward for these warriors.
"You're rewarding the players, so why are we at my place?"Suker grumbled as he stood at the grill.
Srna shot back, "I bought the at. You're the vice-captain—grilling isn't too much to ask, right?"
After qualification, there was a small change within the national team:
Suker was officially promoted to vice-captain.
Simunic stepped down as captain completely.
This clearly signaled that coach Bilic and assistant Van Stejak were preparing to build the team around the younger generation moving forward.
It was a ssage: players like Corluka, Lovren, Perisic, and Subasic would soon beco core mbers.
Securing World Cup qualification was a source of great joy for everyone.
The players gathered in groups, chatting and joking.
Suker, anwhile, was getting smoked by the grill while the others relaxed nearby. He wasn't thrilled.
"You lot over there!" Suker called out. "Co skewer so at!"
"Huh?" Mandzukic turned his head.
He wanted to see which brave soul dared to boss around Croatia's main striker!
But when he saw it was Suker glaring at him, his heart skipped a beat.
"Co on! Don't ss with him right now!" Mandzukic quickly urged the others.
Soon, the scene changed.
Suker manned the grill.
Mandzukic, Modric, Srna, and Vukojevic sat in a line, diligently skewering alternating pieces of at and vegetables.
As night fell, the feast began.
Perisic rubbed his belly and murmured, "Feels like sothing's missing."
Suker gave him a side-eye.
The others all looked toward Suker too.
With a sigh, Suker stood up and went into the villa.
Monts later, he wheeled out a camper van packed full of drinks of every kind.
The mont they saw the drinks, everyone's eyes lit up.
Suker raised a finger: "Only this once. No next ti!"
He grabbed a bottle of champagne.
Pop!The cork flew off, and Suker shook the bottle furiously.
Before long, chilled champagne sprayed out like a fountain.
"Guys! The party's on!"
"Wooooooo!!!!!"
The Croatian players raised their arms and cheered loudly.
The atmosphere reached a fever pitch.
Glasses clinked. Bites of at were followed by gulps of wine. The joy was uncontainable.
Srna raised his glass and stood up.
Everyone fell silent.
"First, thank you for your hard work and dedication. As captain, I appreciate your support—Tommy, shut it!"
Srna turned to Dujmovic, who had tried to crack a joke.
"I'm serious," Srna said firmly.
Dujmovic raised his hands in surrender, signaling Srna to continue.
"Not many of the old guard are left. Euro 2004, the 2006 World Cup—only we experienced those days. It was a dark ti. We saw no hope of victory. We didn't even know what to do next."
Simunic, Simic, and Kranjcar all nodded.
It truly had been a rough ti.
After Croatia's golden generation retired, they were the first batch of successors.
Fans scrutinized them with a critical eye. Any mistake led to intense criticism.
Simunic drank to cope. Simic lost his edge. Kranjcar reportedly suffered from mild depression. Even Srna was nearly forced out of the national team.
Looking back now, it was an emotional mont.
"But we held on," Srna continued. "And we waited for all of you. As an older player and a Croatian, I want to thank you."
Srna led the applause.
Suker, Modric, Mandzukic—so scratched their heads, so their cheeks—clearly feeling a bit awkward. The sudden sincerity was unexpected.
But Srna's heartfelt words couldn't be brushed aside.
"To the newcors and substitutes," Srna turned to Perisic, Lovren, Subasic, and Corluka, "don't rush. Just because you're on the bench doesn't an you're useless. Your role is crucial. If anything happens to us, you'll need to step up."
"The World Cup only happens once every four years. How many of those can a player experience?"
"Stay in top shape—even as substitutes. Be ready to step in and perform."
"And build trust. The veterans will help you grow."
"Ask questions freely. They'll be glad to help—whether it's about transfers, joining a new team, anything."
"We must be united. That's the only way we'll go further."
The players broke into loud applause.
Especially the newcors—their clapping was especially passionate.
They'd wanted to ask questions before but were too shy. Now, with Srna's blessing, it felt much easier.
Srna turned to Suker:
"Anyone else want to say sothing?"
Suker turned away, pretending not to hear.
Mandzukic raised his hand.
Srna looked puzzled.
"Suker wants to speak!" Mandzukic shouted.
"You bastard!"
Hahaha!
Everyone burst out laughing.
Suker was reluctantly dragged up by his mischievous friends.
Scratching his head, he looked around at the eager faces and said:
"I'm not Srna, not the captain, so I don't have any fancy words. But I do have sothing to add."
"Unity is important, but don't lose your competitive edge."
"Ever since I turned pro—from Bosnia to Spain—I've had to seize every chance and win every battle. Get ahead early, and you stay ahead."
"Let tell you, humility is great—for the dia. But don't believe it."
"Professional football is brutal. If you don't fight, soone else will drag you down. You need the ambition to rip the starter out of the lineup, no matter who it is!"
"That's all I've got. The league's coming up—don't drink too much. Stay in shape. Don't let the World Cup affect your club season."
"Next ti we et, it'll be sumr. Good luck!"
He raised his glass:
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!!——" everyone roared.
The next day, the Croatian players left one after another.
The UEFA qualifiers were done. Croatia was in.
Their national team mission complete—for now.
Next ti they'd et: the 2010 World Cup in South Africa.
Suker boarded a flight back to Spain, ready to refocus on club football.
Back at training, things felt more serious.
The usually joking teammates were quiet and focused.
Pellegrini was on the sidelines all day, observing.
Even club executives showed up from ti to ti.
A storm was clearly brewing.
"One more round—then it's Round 12!"
Pellegrini's face was tense.
La Liga, Round 12: Real Madrid vs Barcelona.
El Clásico—the most explosive showdown in Spain.
Also: Suker vs ssi.
A clash of giants.
Due to the ongoing playoff matches for the remaining World Cup spots, Round 11 would kick off on November 21st.
El Clásico?November 29th—Round 12.
It was approaching fast.
Preparation was everything.
Every year, this match was full of tension.
It could decide the league title.
Last season, Real Madrid were humiliated by a double defeat to Barça—and lost the title.
Barcelona went on to win the treble.
It still burned for Real Madrid.
Suker frowned.
Truth be told, he wasn't optimistic.
This Real Madrid team wasn't ready to take on peak Dream Team III Barcelona.
They had too many weak points.
Unless they were fixed, the odds were stacked against them.
The match would be fiery.
Suker was brilliant—but he was just one man.
anwhile, Barcelona were a well-oiled machine.
Only Mourinho's Inter had managed to stop them in Europe.
Everyone knew it.
Hence the tense atmosphere.
Even at ho, confidence was shaky.
But there was no avoiding it now.
The match was coming.
November 21 – Sarajevo, Bosnia.
World Cup Qualifiers – Playoff: Bosnia vs Greece, second leg.
The first leg in Greece ended 0-0.
Now in Bosnia, it was the 85th minute—1:1 on the scoreboard.
On the pitch, Suker Bazic wrestled with Greek defender Sipiropoulos, using brute strength to force his way inside.
His eyes blazed with determination.
So many tis he'd fallen behind. So many tis he'd chased, only to fall further.
No more.
He must go to the 2010 World Cup!
He can't miss this chance!
"Suker!"
From the wing, Dzeko curled in a cross with the outside of his boot.
Suker Bazic roared, leaned back, shoved the defender aside, and launched himself upward like a tower.
Boom!He headed the ball.
The Greek keeper barely pushed it away.
The ball ricocheted outside the box.
At the edge of the area—a shadow appeared.
"Boa!!!——"
Bosnian comntator Basodacic jumped up.
His heart pounded.
God!Please!
All eyes turned to Boa.
He looked up at the goal—eyes shining cold.
"Block him! He's going to shoot!"
The Greek defender slid in.
Boa feinted, pulled off a flip-flap, and shifted the ball to his right foot.
The crowd held its breath.
One goal.
Just one!
They'd be going to South Africa!
Then—
Boom!
Boa struck.
The ball rocketed into the bottom-right corner.
Silence.Then—roar.
"GOOOOOAAAALLLL!!!!"
"Boa is Bosnia's hero!!"
"86th minute—it's the winner! It has to be the winner!"
"Don't give Greece a chance! Don't give them anything!"
"South Africa! South Africa! Take us there!!"
The comntator roared, tears in his eyes.
Suker Bazic spread his arms wide and sprinted to Boa.
"Yes! Brilliant! You did it!!"
"We're going to South Africa!"
"Hell yeah!!"
Dzeko rushed over too.
Even substitute Skolk ran to the corner flag to celebrate.
"South Africa! South Africa! We're going!"
Skolk hugged Boa, slapping his back.
Boa looked up at the jubilant crowd.
This mont of glory—
He saw two figures in his mind.
One tall, one short. Just shadows, but they looked so young.
He reached out—but grasped nothing.
Still, he smiled.
"Wait for us—we're coming!"
Bosnia beat Greece 2:1 on aggregate to qualify for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa.
Suker Bazic's eyes burned with resolve.
He couldn't wait to face Suker again.
Though they'd traded places—he, the forr Bosnian prodigy, and Suker, now a world-class superstar—
He never stopped chasing.
"Suker! I'm coming!"
Skolk returned to the bench, tears still on his face, but smiling.
These were tears of happiness.
After two hard-fought matches, they'd finally beaten Greece.
They were going to the World Cup.
They might et Suker and Modric again.
Maybe that was fate.
They'd given everything.
They were still chasing Suker and Modric.
Skolk took a deep breath, eyes full of hope.
"Suker! Luka! See you at the World Cup!"
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