Besic once again turned his gaze toward Suker.
At this mont, Suker was sitting on the grass performing various stretching exercises.
After Modric found Suker, the two began a ga of juggling passes without letting the ball touch the ground.
Both had outstanding ball control.
Each trap, each pass, was perfectly weighted.
And there was no sign of nervousness—their movents were natural and relaxed.
After about ten successive passes, Suker suddenly let out a loud shout.
"Captain!"
He swung his right foot powerfully toward the ball. In front of the goal, Kosopvic instinctively ducked down, preparing for a header.
But Suker's foot swung harmlessly over the top of the ball in a fake, spinning around and using the toe of his supporting foot to flick the ball up again. As he juggled it casually, he pointed mockingly at the startled Kosovic.
Kosovic, half amused and half exasperated, gave Suker a sarcastic gesture before turning back to his warm-up.
"The atmosphere's looking good!"
Besic nodded slightly as he observed Zrinjski Mostar's warm-up.
In the tense monts before a match, staying wound too tight can hinder performance—or at the very least, delay players from getting into their rhythm after kickoff.
Creating laughter to ease the nerves is crucial.
Suker clearly wasn't nervous. His relaxed, fluid movents made it obvious his body and mind were both loose and ready.
This helped Zrinjski Mostar avoid the stiffness that often precedes a big ga.
By contrast, Sarajevo Railway Workers looked tense.
Their warm-up was rigid and chanical, filled with constant scolding and instruction from the coaching staff, which only made things more stressful.
Besic noticed Boskecnovic warming up with headers.
After a few strides, a slight jump, and a back-leaning header repeated a few tis, Boskecnovic joined a rondo drill.
Watching the warm-ups, Besic shook his head slightly.
In his view, warm-ups should be just that—primarily about activating physical functions and stretching to prevent injury.
Then, briefly emphasizing tactics. That should be enough.
Over-warming risks fatigue, while under-warming risks injury.
Everything needs to be done in moderation.
At that mont, the players began returning to the tunnel.
It was ti to enter the pitch.
The Zrinjski Mostar Stadium ca to life.
On the left stand, a simple TIFO was raised.
It wasn't the dazzling spectacle seen in Europe's top leagues, but a modest, heartfelt display.
Pasted on it was a team photo, giving off a warm, family-like feeling.
Clearly, Mostar fans had made preparations for this match.
Though it lacked overwhelming grandeur, it still served to boost the spirits of players like Suk.
In the tunnel, both teams stood ready.
Suker glanced toward the Sarajevo Railway Workers, and their central defender, Vrhrovac, looked back.
Vrhrovac grinned.
Suk turned away with an annoyed snort.
In their previous encounter at Sarajevo's ho ground, Vrhrovac had severely limited Suk's performance.
Suker spent much of that half being knocked around, playing a ssy and frustrating ga.
Although he eventually escaped his marker and scored with a diving header, his overall performance was poor.
Vrhrovac was clearly the main reason behind that.
But now, half a year later, Suker had grown—not only taller but stronger as well.
He believed he could now barely withstand the physical challenge.
That would make all the difference.
"Just wait and see!" Suker vowed silently.
anwhile, Vrhrovac also turned away, his expression tense.
He'd watched recent footage of Suker.
And he had to admit—the kid's developnt had been impressive.
Suker alone had wreaked havoc on FK Sarajevo's defense in several recent gas, and his physical strength had visibly improved.
He was no longer that frail, easily knocked-over little kid.
Though still occasionally off-balance, he could now stand his ground.
This was deeply troubling.
Previously, their defensive strategy against Suker relied heavily on physical pressure.
If that no longer worked, then with his quick feet and dribbling skills, Suker would beco even more dangerous.
Vrhrovac knew he had to be extra careful.
Soon, as the stadium announcer shouted their nas, the players took the field.
After the captains drew lots, Zrinjski Mostar kicked off.
The referee's whistle blew.
The championship-deciding match of the 2002/2003 Bosnian Premier League had begun!
"Zrinjski Mostar is patiently circulating the ball. They're not rushing forward."
"Modric passes it to Suker on the flank. Suker, under pressure from the fullback, imdiately passes it back—he's not giving his opponent a chance for a challenge!"
"The ball returns to Modric. Zrinjski Mostar is advancing step by step…"
On the pitch, Zrinjski Mostar maintained possession, using movent and passing to stretch Sarajevo Railway Workers' defense.
They didn't rush their attack, instead playing patiently.
But during one forward run, Kamnar was pressed by Sarajevo's #10, Vukocic, who intercepted and began dribbling forward.
"Here's a chance for Sarajevo Railway Workers—they're counterattacking!"
Vukocic looked up, trying to find a teammate making a forward run.
But Zrinjski Mostar had filled the space behind their line, denying him a through-ball opportunity.
He also looked to pass short to kic, but Modric quickly blocked the passing lane.
Vukocic hesitated.
Soon, he faced pressure from the side.
Suker had sprinted back and was now harassing Vukocic from the flank.
Vukocic tried to hold him off with his arm, but Suker crouched low and kept pressing inward.
"Damn, he's so annoying!"
Vukocic felt like his hand was practically resting on Suker's head.
He knew if he pushed, Suker would collapse in an instant.
Helpless, he withdrew his hand, only to face even more intense pressure from Suker.
Suker relentlessly chased him down, hoping for a mistake. But Vukocic's fundantals were solid, and Suker couldn't apply quite enough pressure.
Then suddenly, Vukocic was jostled hard on the right side.
His balance shifted awkwardly.
He turned to see—Kamnar, who had just lost the ball, had returned to help!
"Nice!"
Suker cheered to himself and imdiately stepped in, dragging the ball to his feet.
Seeing the turnover, Vukocic tried to chase him down.
Suker shifted the ball laterally.
Vukocic thought he was going to pass and moved to intercept.
But Suker suddenly cut the ball back—completely faking him out.
"Beautiful fake!"
Comntator Basodachi exclaid.
Suker's move was textbook—open body posture, lowered shoulder to sell the fake, followed by a sharp cut and quick acceleration.
The whole sequence flowed smoothly, leaving his marker behind.
In just a few seconds, after being dispossessed, Zrinjski Mostar had recovered the ball thanks to the teamwork of Suker and Kamnar.
"Excellent work rate!"
From the stands, Besic applauded with a smile.
Not just because of the skillful dribble, but more so for the decision to track back and press.
But Suker's performance was just getting started.
In the 11th minute, Zrinjski Mostar was sward by pressure on the left wing.
Their normally steady passing rhythm was disrupted. Modric, Kosopech, and overlapping Kerpic all struggled to control the ball.
Further back, Biljal looked anxiously toward the chaos.
Under double pressure, Modric made several sharp turns and pokes, managing to break free.
But his balance was already shaky—he could collapse at any mont.
Just then, Suker created a pocket of space near the sideline, though a fullback was marking him.
"Pass it!"
Suker shouted.
Modric had no other option—if he lost the ball, it would be a dangerous counterattack.
With his last bit of strength, he passed to Suk and imdiately collapsed to the ground.
Suker and Railway's fullback, Celotic, both charged for the ball.
Suk reached it first thanks to his burst speed, with Celotic right behind him.
As Suker stopped the ball, Celotic slamd into him.
But Suker slightly jumped, keeping his heels off the ground, his body airborne just enough to absorb the hit and slide forward a step.
"He stayed on his feet!"
Comntator Basodachi shouted in surprise.
He'd seen Suker get knocked over countless tis before. This ti, staying upright was a revelation.
"He unloaded the impact," Besic clarified. "It's a common technique in pro football—when facing a collision, jumping slightly lets you absorb the hit without losing balance."
On the field, Suker steadied himself and swung his foot.
The ball flew across the field from the congested left wing to the right flank, where Biljal waited.
Biljal controlled it easily and passed it back again.
Under pressure, Zrinjski Mostar didn't lose possession—they kept the ball thanks to the individual brilliance of Modric and Suk, and managed to switch play effectively.
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