This is Red Star!This is Red Star!This is Red Star!Kill those Croats!Kill those Croats!Kill those Croats!
Inside the stadium, tens of thousands of Red Star Belgrade fans surged onto the field. Under the incitement of extremist supporters, their chants and slogans became shockingly intense.
A crushing sense of pressure surged from all directions.
This match had no allies!
It was a game of complete isolation!
50,357 Red Star Belgrade fans and players vs. 11 Dinamo Zagreb players.
Even counting the coaching staff, this was an extremely lopsided confrontation.
Enemies on all sides!
They were using their bodies to apply pressure!
They were using extreme rhetoric to intimidate!
Those bloodshot eyes seemed ready to tear them apart.
The intensity of it all left Dinamo Zagreb's young players utterly terrified.
Just after Duimović received the ball, he was immediately taken down by two opponents.
"...Janković and Stankić—together they stripped the ball from Duimović. Red Star Belgrade launches a counterattack!"
Just as Janković prepared to pass, the sound of turf being scraped filled the air.
Suker suddenly burst out from the side and performed a sliding tackle, sending the ball out of bounds.
"Damn dwarf!!"
"I'll kill you! I swear!"
"Red card! Red card!"
Red Star fans erupted in furious screams.
They were pressuring both the referee and Suker.
But the referee showed no response—it was a clean tackle.
Suker got up from the ground, chest heaving violently. He had no idea how far he had run throughout the first half.
Duimović had been scared stiff!
"Get back! Get back! How long do you plan to lie there—get back on defense!"
Suker yelled at Duimović.
Only then did the latter get up and run over.
"I'm sorry!"
Duimović was full of guilt.
Because of his turnover, Suker had to sprint back to defend.
"Don't say 'sorry.' That's useless. If you want to prove yourself, then snap out of it!"
Suker grew more agitated. He turned and gave Duimović a smack on the back of the head.
"Coward!"
Duimović scratched his head—it stung a bit, but he was still extremely nervous.
After all, the ferocious Red Star fans were beginning to break through the police barricades. If they got through...
BANG!!
Duimović's head jerked backward—his nose tingled.
The next second brought intense pain.
A metallic taste filled his throat.
It was a nosebleed.
"Medic! Medic!"
Suker immediately raised his hand.
Duimović clutched his nose and crouched down.
Soon, the referee stopped play and allowed the medical team onto the pitch.
Suker took the chance to grab a water bottle from the medical bag and chugged it.
"This is brutal!"
He looked at the scoreboard.
Red Star Belgrade 1:1 Dinamo Zagreb.
35 minutes in, it was a draw.
While Duimović had collapsed mentally, Srna had stepped up.
In the 24th minute, Suker and Srna completed a beautiful one-two on the wing, and Srna fired a low shot to equalize.
Even so, the match situation remained grim.
Duimović looked like he'd been cursed—completely scared stiff.
Suker stood beside Duimović and watched as he touched his nose, seemingly stopping the bleeding.
Just as Duimović was about to get up, Suker discreetly kicked him.
Duimović fell back down, looking up in confusion.
Suker glared at him.
Why are you getting up so fast?!
He glanced at the medic, who quickly caught on.
"The bleeding hasn't quite stopped yet."
Suker exhaled. They had to delay as much as possible.
He had run so hard that his stamina was depleted. He wanted to use his stamina recovery card—but it only took effect in the second half.
They had to hang in there.
When the referee finally got impatient and signaled them to continue treatment off the field, Duimović finally got up slowly.
Suker checked the time—drag it out as long as possible.
"Fall back! Defend!"
Srna shouted.
Everyone began to retreat.
"They're too passive! They've been scared stiff and aren't playing at their usual level!"
Assistant coach Kleiman was anxious.
He believed that despite Red Star Belgrade's past as Balkan giants, they were weakened by a recent managerial shakeup and the departure of their midfield enforcer, Vidić.
Dinamo Zagreb should be the better team.
But in this match, the young players were frozen—they couldn't play their usual game.
"Duimović lost possession—let's give him some encouragement!"
The stadium announcer's sarcastic voice echoed.
Immediately, tens of thousands of Red Star fans erupted in deafening boos.
The jeers made Duimović even more panicked.
"Damn it! What are they gloating about!"
Kleiman was outraged.
Head coach Bešić remained silent, but his face was grim.
He expected a tough match, but not this tough.
If not for Štimac and Jarni anchoring the defense, and the efforts of Suker and hot-headed Mandžukić, they would've been in serious danger.
"Defend! Just get through this match!"
In the 55th minute, Dinamo made substitutions.
Duimović and Štimac off. Strinić and Šifo (Šimunić Šifolder) on.
Duimović was mentally broken and no longer reliable.
Štimac was exhausted after fending off Red Star's relentless attacks.
Luckily, Šifo had been in great form lately.
Facing a two-meter-tall striker, he consistently anticipated the ball's trajectory and disrupted plays with early jumps.
In midfield, Suker, Modrić, and Vukojević were relentlessly battling for possession.
81st minute.
Janković made a sudden switch to the flank, creating an opening.
"Watch out, Bogavac!"
Modrić shouted immediately.
Coincidentally, Srna slipped and fell.
Even while falling, Srna tried to grab Bogavac to stop him.
But Bogavac's experience showed—he dodged the attempt and stormed into the penalty area.
"Danger for Dinamo Zagreb!"
Defender Šifo stepped up to challenge, but the ball had already been crossed.
It curved through the air, perfectly landing in the striker's path.
Red Star's 2-meter-tall striker, Đukić, barely had to jump.
He charged forward, extended his neck, and smashed the ball with his forehead.
SWISH! The ball flew into the net.
In the final moments, Dinamo Zagreb still couldn't hold the draw.
Huff! Huff!Suker squatted, gasping for breath.
Even with the recovery card, the match intensity was overwhelming.
Modrić dry-heaved, his face pale.
Vukojević coughed repeatedly, his legs trembling.
Their persistence had been extraordinary.
This wasn't just a tough stadium—this was hell.
Every time they touched the ball, the crowd erupted in boos, disrupting their rhythm and applying immense pressure.
Threatening chants filled the air.
Worst of all—they had no support.
Even Croatian commentators were excluded.
They were utterly alone.
Final Score:
UEFA Champions League Qualifying Round 2, Leg 1.Red Star Belgrade 2:1 Dinamo Zagreb.
Srna scored their only goal.
Suker, despite being tightly marked and forced to defend, managed to deliver an assist.
As soon as the match ended, Dinamo Zagreb left the stadium.
They took a night train back to Croatia.
Bešić wouldn't gamble with the team's safety—no one knew what the Red Star ultras might do.
He was right.
That night, several armed men stormed their hotel. Failing to find their targets, they fled.
Dinamo Zagreb lost 1:2 to Red Star Belgrade.
But strangely, the fans didn't seem too concerned.
After all, this was only the first leg.
Scoring a goal in that hellish stadium, and holding the draw until the 80th minute—was already remarkable.
The next match would be their turn to strike back.
How the Serbs intimidated their players—they would return in kind, if not worse.
"The Bloody Derby! The Bloody Duimović!""He Bled to Defend Zagreb's Honor!""Srna's Critical Equalizer!""Suker Shut Down, but Still Delivered an Assist!"
Oddly, the most talked-about player wasn't Srna, who scored.
It was Duimović.
His blood-soaked photo was everywhere.
He was hailed as Croatia's Iron Warrior.
In truth, there was no broadcast, so fans didn't realize—
he was just scared stiff, and got hit by accident.
He was far from the iron-blooded hero the headlines painted him as.
But the media craved a story—and Duimović's photo was perfect.