"...GOAL!!! Kalenovic!! What a beautiful volley!!"
"Lokomotiva Zagreb scores on their first counterattack—their ability to capitalize on chances is frightening."
"Dinamo Zagreb pushed up too far. They failed to retreat in time, which allowed Kacalida's pass to slice through the defense. Of course, Kalenovic's volley was also top-class!"
In the stadium, Lokomotiva Zagreb fans erupted into wild cheers.
This goal thrilled them to no end.
Especially since it came against their former overlords, Dinamo Zagreb—it made the celebration even sweeter.
See that?
Fortune favors us now!
The Lokomotiva Zagreb fans were ecstatic, chanting in unison:
"Kalenovic!!!—"
"Kalenovic!!!—"
"Kalenovic!!!—"
They were shouting the name of their star striker.
But for Dinamo Zagreb fans, the moment hit hard.
In the southern stand, Boteci stood wearing a Dinamo Zagreb No. 9 jersey, his expression heavy.
Kalenovic used to be their star striker, their pride.
Now, he played for Lokomotiva.
The cheers echoed like hammers in Boteci's heart.
He shouted at the pitch, "Wake up!! Don't let them counter like that!!"
On the field, Dinamo Zagreb players looked at each other in shock.
That counterattack was too quick.
Their defense didn't even get a chance to disrupt it. Vukojevic was even bypassed completely—he didn't slow it down at all.
"My fault,"
Vukojevic muttered.
If he hadn't overcommitted, that goal might not have happened.
He regretted it—he should have been more cautious.
"Don't dwell on it. It's just one goal, we can get it back!" Srna shouted at him. "You didn't do wrong—if you hadn't gone for the press, that would've been a mistake. Next time, be more decisive. If you can't get the ball, take the man!"
Vukojevic nodded firmly.
Suker ran up to Modric.
Modric looked grim.
Lokomotiva's counterattack was sharp, unlike anything they'd faced before.
It even reminded him a bit of Red Star Belgrade.
Modric took a deep breath and turned to Suker.
"Suker!"
Suker turned to him.
"Let's hit back!"
Suker nodded without hesitation.
Down 1–0 in the 11th minute of the first half—it wasn't ideal for Dinamo Zagreb.
They had more possession but hadn't scored.
Now they needed to equalize fast.
On the sidelines, coach Besic looked nervously onto the pitch.
This match was critical—he had pushed for the team's rebuild, even without full support from upper management.
Now the pressure was all on him.
Even though he was a Dinamo Zagreb veteran, this match demanded everything.
Besic clenched his fist.
"Come on, boys!"
And it wasn't just him—this game would impact many futures.
Davor Suker stood next to Suker, ready for kickoff.
"Don't rush," Davor Suker reassured him.
Suker exhaled.
"I'll score!"
Davor Suker turned to look at him—on that youthful face was a fierce determination.
BEEP!!
The whistle blew.
The game resumed.
"Dinamo Zagreb kicks off again. How will they respond? Given the situation... oh~~~ Modric launches a long ball!"
Commentator Krausevic shouted excitedly.
Modric had sent the ball toward the open space behind the left fullback.
At the same time, Suker and fullback Sipetec both sprinted for it.
They were both fast.
Sipetec was known for his speed.
But Suker was just that bit quicker.
"Damn it!"
Watching Suker inch ahead, Sipetec grew frantic.
The ball was about to drop.
Suker adjusted his steps and looked up to control it.
Sipetec moved in to challenge.
Just as Suker's thigh touched the ball, Sipetec lunged.
Now's the time.
He wanted to dispossess Suker before the ball settled.
But in the next moment, Sipetec's eyes widened.
The ball bounced off Suk's thigh with barely a tremble, falling perfectly to the ground.
With small, precise steps, Suker nudged it forward, dipped his right shoulder.
"Right side!"
Sipetec guessed and shifted right, but Suker cut back and accelerated outside.
He passed from the outside!
"A brilliant first touch and dribble!!"
Krausevic couldn't hold back his praise.
Suker cut diagonally toward the goal, with center-back Simunic closing in.
Suker feinted before Simunic reached him.
Simunic followed.
Suker feinted again.
Simunic stayed with him.
Can't shake him!
Suker grew anxious.
But Simunic was even more desperate.
As the two closed in, Simunic suddenly stuck out his leg.
He's going for it!
Suker's eyes lit up—he pushed the ball outside again and twisted his foot to go wide.
"Don't even think about it!!"
Simunic roared and bumped Suker hard.
Suker staggered right, about to fall—but he kept the ball close.
As he fell, he used his left hand to brace and hooked the ball with his right foot, spun halfway, then flicked it forward again.
He's past him again!!!——
Krausevic screamed, "Lokomotiva is in real trouble!"
Suker charged at the goal.
The remaining center-back, Dehak, left Davor Suker and closed in.
But Suker was already winding up to shoot.
He raised his left leg, angled his body, and slammed it toward the near post.
Suker!! Shoots!!!——
The ball flew hard and fast.
To the crowd's shock, it slipped between keeper Butina's fingers and into the net.
Swoosh!!
The net rippled.
Suker stared at the goal. Once he confirmed it went in, he turned and sprinted toward the corner flag.
GOAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!——
SUKER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!——
"A jaw-dropping solo goal!! He shredded Lokomotiva's defense on his own!"
"Dear God!! He single-handedly dragged them back into the game!!"
Lokomotiva fans were stunned.
It was a beautiful goal.
But they had conceded.
Once Suker beat Sipetec, they felt a chill.
When Simunic was passed, Suker became unstoppable.
He had just pulled off a left-wing solo run, beating two defenders and blasting it in.
Both sets of fans went silent.
They were in awe.
They had never seen such a dazzling run and finish.
One man tore through an entire defense.
As if Lokomotiva's backline was made of paper.
But damn, that felt good!
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!!!!!!!!!——
A deafening roar erupted.
Suker stood before the fans, looking at the wild faces in the stands—a fire burned in his heart.
Yes!
This is what he wanted!
"Suker!!"
"God!!"
"That was incredible!"
Modric, Srna, and others tackled Suker to the ground.
They had been desperate after going down.
They wanted to equalize, but never expected it to happen like that.
That solo goal was simply too cool.
On the sideline, Coach Besic's jaw dropped.
Suker's display stunned him.
Of course, he'd seen Suker perform like this in training.
But this was a real match!
The intensity was on a whole different level!
"Well done!!"
Besic clenched his fist.
On the other side, Lokomotiva players were rattled.
Suker's breakthrough and shot had shaken them to the core.
Their morale took a huge hit.
As Suker and his teammates walked back, they passed Kalenovic.
Kalenovic looked down at Suker.
Suker looked up at him.
Suddenly, Suker glared.
What are you looking at?!
Kalenovic squinted.
This damn brat!
"What a match! Just 13 minutes in and both sides have already scored!"
"Kalenovic's volley and Suker's solo goal—they're showing us just how electric this game is!"
Commentator Krausevic rubbed his hands in excitement—he was loving every second.
He felt this match was only going to get more intense.