In the training ground, Zorancic, who had been missing for over half a month, was busy handing out autographed photos.
"Everyone gets one! I have plenty here!"
Suker held two autographed photos—one from Ronaldo, the other from Zidane.
Both had even written personal messages of encouragement.
Suker looked up. "You went to Spain during that time?"
Zorancic smiled as he finished distributing the photos and nodded. "Had some matters to take care of."
Then he gestured to a middle-aged man in a suit standing beside him. "Let me introduce: the famous nutritionist, Mike Lister! He has helped many players with delayed or slow physical development by creating personalized nutrition plans and health reports."
Mike Lister extended his hand with a smile. "I heard about your situation from Zorancic. From what I understand,you still have significant growth potential. The most important thing now is to restore the nutrition you've been lacking."
Suker's eyes lit up. That was great news.
"I have a good appetite."
"Having a good appetite doesn't mean you're getting the right nutrition—especially in your case, where you've been undernourished due to certain issues. You need a tailored nutrition plan."
Suker nodded immediately and asked, "How much does this cost?"
Lister replied with a smile, "The first consultation is free. Of course, it'll cost afterward. If you find it effective, you can hire me as your personal nutritionist. I'll provide you with the most professional health management advice!"
Suker gave him a thumbs up.
"When do we start?" he asked eagerly.
"I'll contact you tomorrow. We don't have the proper equipment here."
Zorancic added, "That's already sorted. I've contacted a professional hospital. We'll go there directly tomorrow."
Suker looked at Zorancic with surprise.
This guy's really stepping up.
Zorancic raised an eyebrow. "So, how's your training been lately?"
Suker grinned. "Just wait till the second half of the season—we're going to dominate!"
"Then let me congratulate you in advance," Zorancic replied cheerfully.
At that moment, someone called out.
"Suker!"
He turned and saw Davor Suker and Boban walking over.
Davor Suker didn't look particularly happy.
"Give me a sec," Suker said to Zorancic.
Zorancic nodded with a smile.
Indeed, investing more effort does pay off!
His father, Mamich, once told him: Cater to their needs.
So Zorancic had done just that—he brought Suker a professional nutritionist to solve his development issue.
He gave Modric a set of Zidane's insights on playing, which the latter cherished.
Davor Suker and Boban called the two over.
Zorancic kept watching.
He noticed Suker's expression shift from surprise to awkwardness, then to a frown.
Zorancic didn't know what it was about, but it didn't seem good.
A moment later, Suker ran back to him.
"You should come too!"
"Me?" Zorancic pointed to himself.
Suk nodded. "I want your opinion."
Zorancic's eyes lit up.
He was needed!
He listened attentively to Boban's explanation and his expression mirrored Suk's.
When he heard Arsenal was interested in Suker, he was stunned.
Then came the embarrassment upon hearing what Davor Suker had done.
Finally, when Besic got angry and refused to release him, Zorancic was at a loss.
Davor Suker had messed things up.
Mamich once said of him:"He's not a bad guy, but he always manages to screw things up."
Zorancic hadn't fully understood that before—but now he did.
Suker and Modric were both deeply troubled.
Especially Suker.
What had been a golden opportunity to join Arsenal had turned into a mess.
Suker turned to Zorancic.
"What do you think?"
Zorancic answered without hesitation: "He has to go!"
Suker nodded.
Zorancic rubbed his chin. "The key issue is how he leaves, and in what manner."
"Besic is already furious. There's hardly room to smooth things over. Frankly," Zorancic sighed, "this season…"
Suk understood.
He wanted to leave—after all, it was Arsenal.
But again, how?
Suker didn't blame Davor Suker. He knew the man meant well—he'd just botched it badly.
Now, with Besic like a porcupine—one wrong touch and it'd all blow up.
If things got out of hand, it could disrupt the locker room.
The coach and his star players would be at odds:
One wants to leave, the other refuses to let go.
It would get ugly and benefit no one.
Sigh...
Suker couldn't help but sigh.
What a mess!
"Want to hear my suggestion?" Zorancic asked.
Everyone turned to him.
Zorancic carefully said, "Don't make things worse with Besic. Let's avoid further escalation. Meanwhile, work on two fronts."
"First, keep the Professor—Arsène Wenger—interested. The transfer must happen. Arsenal suits Suk in every way. So delay things for now."
"Second, negotiate with Besic."
"He wants a return on investment. Let's give him one."
Suker asked, "What kind of return?"
Zorancic pursed his lips. "Two Croatian league titles—would that be enough?"
Everyone fell silent. From Zorancic's uncertain tone, they knew the answer:
Probably not.
Modric lowered his head.
He was the saddest of all.
On one hand was his mentor. On the other, his future.
Either way, it was hard to choose.
He wanted to leave—but couldn't say it.
Modric twisted his fingers nervously, clearly distressed.
Suker glanced at him.
He knew Modric had it the hardest.
Suddenly Suker asked, "Would qualifying for the Champions League be enough?"
"The Champions League?"Davor Suker exclaimed.
"You're seriously thinking about that?"
Suker snapped, "Why else do you think we've been training so hard during the break?"
"Reaching the group stage! Making club history! Would that be enough to get him to release us?" Suker said firmly.
Zorancic answered, "It would."
"If you make it to the group stage, then you hold the power. Increased exposure, recognition, interest from top leagues—even Dinamo fans will want to see you succeed. Besic won't be able to keep you."
"Then it's settled!" Suker slapped his thigh. "Now we've got one more reason to fight for the Champions League!"
Davor Suker muttered, "You haven't even secured qualification yet…"
"We'll crush them!"
Suker roared.
Modric whispered, "I can't say it myself."
Everyone fell silent again.
Modric's case was different.
Besic discovered and trained him.
Suker could speak freely—but Modric couldn't.
Just imagining Besic's disappointed face made Modric's heart ache.
He simply couldn't bring himself to say it.
"No one's asking you to," Suker patted him on the shoulder.
Modric looked up hopefully. "You'll say it for me?"
"I can't either." Suker grinned. "Besic brought me over from the Bosnian league, made me the offensive core, even gave me the No. 10 jersey. I can't say it to his face either."
"Then who will?" Modric asked.
Suker slapped Zorancic.
"He will! He's perfect for it!"
Then he turned and grinned. "Right, agent? Sorry to throw a mess at you just after signing—but you don't mind, do you?"
Zorancic stared blankly at Suker.
Should he be happy or cry?
But he didn't go to see Besic right away.
Now wasn't the time to negotiate—not while Besic was still angry.
They had to wait until he cooled off and had time to think.
Otherwise, he might do something drastic—like force Suk and Modric to stay at Dinamo no matter what.
Another half month passed.
The winter break was over.
During that time, Suker and the others had focused on conditioning.
They weren't quite tireless runners—but they could sure run.
Even Dujmović hit 10 kilometers per match.
Others were nearing 11 kilometers.
With that stamina, transitions became lightning fast.
High pressing looked effortless.
In the past, training matches were slow, and players didn't run much.
Now, after the break, they were running like maniacs.
Suker and the others nearly ran the veterans like Štimac into the ground.
Coach Besic and Davor Suker had a delicate relationship.
They ignored each other outside of training—but during practice, it was business as usual.
Once training was done, they'd go their separate ways.
Suker and Modric knew the backstory.
Others didn't.
They sensed the odd tension—but didn't know what caused it.
Still, that was a matter for the higher-ups.
As for Zorancic's negotiations—Suker decided to hold off.
Better to wait until they'd won a few matches and Besic was in a better mood.
Now, Suker and Modric had officially signed with Zorancic.
They were under his management.
And Zorancic was working hard for them.
Just recently, they were both awarded the Croatian Hope of the Year award.
(The "Hope of the Year" (Nada godine) is a separate award given alongside the "Croatian Footballer of the Year" award in Croatia. It recognizes a young, promising football player who has shown exceptional potential. The award was introduced in 1995. )
No doubt this was Zorancic's network at work.
Of course, Suker and Modric earned it too.
Zorancic had just made sure it happened.