"Stick to him! Stick to him!"
"I'm coming! I'm coming!"
Suker grabbed Carlos's bulky waist like a swinging bell.
Modric was also desperately pushing Carlos outward.
Together, the two managed to shove Carlos out of bounds, and the ball rolled out too.
Thud!Suker fell to the ground with Carlos.
Carlos sprang up angrily, glaring at Suker.
This guy — no matter how he tried to shake him off, he couldn't.
The ball was thrown back in.
Carlos tossed the ball to Zidane.
He saw Suker and Modric rushing over again.
This time, there were three people.
Suker, Modric, and Vukojević surrounded Zidane, kicking and crowding him fiercely.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The sharp whistle blew. Vukojević immediately stepped back.
The referee stared at Suker: "First warning. Watch your actions."
Suker nodded obediently.
"Okay! I will be careful!"
His good attitude pleased the referee, who nodded and walked away.
Suker turned and snarled fiercely: "Keep on him!"
Zidane gasped for breath, frowning at these young kids.
The standout feature was their stickiness!They just stuck to you relentlessly, making it uncomfortable, blocking passing lanes, and cutting off your connections with teammates.
They had excellent tactical execution.
He was having a really hard time playing.
"They really can run!"
Ronaldo was panting.
Not only Zidane, but all of them were troubled by these kids.
No matter where on the pitch, they just wouldn't let go.
Beckham stood at midfield, hands on hips, his iconic hair already a messy bird's nest.
His face was full of helplessness.
Facing a group of young players who could run and stick like glue, he was also forced onto the defensive.
Beckham glanced at the clock; 40 minutes had passed.
"Hey! Time's running out; we need to hurry and score!"
Beckham shouted.
The other Real Madrid players looked serious and worried.
At first, they might have thought these were just a bunch of kids, posing no threat.
But now, they were struggling to play their game.
The two head coaches stood at the sidelines.
Real Madrid's coach Camacho looked very grim.
Something was wrong!
This wasn't just about stickiness; these kids were using relentless running to disrupt Real Madrid's attacking rhythm.
Since taking the lead, Dinamo Zagreb's tactics had changed.
They pressed aggressively everywhere except for the striker.
They didn't care about rhythm, only disrupting Madrid's play.
Except for the striker, everyone pressed fiercely.
Almost anywhere on the pitch, they created numerical superiority.
Camacho turned to the other side.
He saw Dinamo Zagreb's coach clapping and encouraging his players to keep up the tight marking.
"Yes! That's it! Stick to them! Annoy them! Don't let them break through easily or hold the ball comfortably. Run! Run! Keep running!"
Besic shouted encouragingly.
He was excited inside.
It worked!Really worked!
Before the game, the coaching staff had simulated how to beat Real Madrid.
But everything pointed to a skill gap.
Normal tactics wouldn't work, so they had to try abnormal ones.
Like now — chaos!
Win in chaos!
To create this, they had to take the lead.
Right from the start, Dinamo Zagreb attacked relentlessly, overloading Suk.
They took the initiative!
They used their strong offense to break through the defense and then disrupt the rhythm.
"Hold on a few more minutes!"
Besic clenched his fists tightly.
The pitch was still a mess.
Though Suker was warned, he acted as he pleased.
Whenever someone had the ball, he stuck on them; if that didn't work, he grabbed their waist.
They focused on sticking close.
Others did the same.
Stars or not, if one person couldn't get you, they added more.
Little fouls, waist grabs, wrestling — Suker knew this well from the Bosnian league.
One word summed it up:
Dirty!
With these kids' 'dirty' tricks, Real Madrid finally cracked.
The whistle sounded to end the first half.
After 45 minutes, Dinamo Zagreb led Real Madrid 2:1.
The crowd erupted in applause.
Dinamo Zagreb's fans still couldn't believe they were leading.
And they would enter halftime ahead.
But the Dinamo players looked exhausted.
Of course, the Real Madrid players were just as worn out.
Where was the aura of the stars now?
Beckham's hair was all messed up.
"It's so hard to keep up. Feels like we've been wrestling since the 30th minute!"
"Zidane's skills are great. If you're not careful, he'll get away."
"Ronaldo's the real headache. I can't even look away."
The young guys chatted excitedly.
"Wow! This is amazing! We're leading!"
"Can't believe it, we're really leading against Real Madrid!"
"Don't celebrate too soon. The second half is crucial," Serna panted. "Right now, we're holding on with energy, but we'll have to fight hard in the second half."
They never thought about defending.
And they couldn't.
Against such stars, even parking the bus wouldn't help because of free kick specialists like Zidane.
So they had to go head-on.
"Our energy is nearly spent. Real Madrid will definitely push harder in the second half. This is both a threat and an opportunity."
"Counterattack! Fast counterattacks! Their defense isn't as aggressive as ours. Send more people forward during counters! Don't fear mistakes or conceding! Just charge!"
Besic was fired up.
Damn! Who would have thought I'd be leading a team against Real Madrid?
Meanwhile, in Real Madrid's locker room, Camacho was shouting loudly.
But no one really cared.
Managing stars was hard.
They just didn't listen!
Camacho grew angrier.
"I know you look down on me, but do you really want to lose and become a joke worldwide?"
Suddenly, the room fell silent.
Captain Raul said solemnly, "Coach, we won't lose."
Camacho sneered, "With the sloppy play you showed in the first half, do you think you can win? Those kids aren't here to pay respect; they're baring their fangs to bite a chunk off you!"
Raul: "Then you should take some action, like a real coach."
Camacho's face darkened immediately.
This guy was more of a joke than a coach.
Seeing the tense atmosphere, Zidane quickly spoke, "They're drained, especially Suker on the left wing. He hasn't stopped running since the 30th minute. That's a weakness we can exploit to win the match. As for attack, we're still confident."
Others nodded in agreement.
Camacho's expression grew darker.
"If you have a plan, then deal with it yourselves!"
He turned and left the locker room.
What a useless coach!
Real Madrid began pressing forward in the second half. Within 5 minutes, Ronaldo suddenly fired a shot that scored!
"How did that go in?" Klauzivic grinned.
But Dinamo Zagreb did not sit back.
On the right wing, Valjević suddenly passed sideways; Mandžukić made a forward run, then a reverse triangle pass.
Suker flicked the ball over the defender with his toe, turned, and shot directly!
Oh~~~ Goal again!!!
Dinamo Zagreb retook the lead, 3:2 over Real Madrid.
At this moment, the Real Madrid stars looked frustrated.
Why couldn't they close the gap?
The game was getting more and more tense.
Dinamo scored again, causing fans and reporters to start shouting "God!"
What was expected to be a cakewalk had turned into a fierce battle.
Both sides attacked furiously.
Real Madrid wanted to equalize.
Dinamo Zagreb wanted to win.
These fresh-faced kids were really trying to tear the skin off Real Madrid's pride.
"Substitute! Substitute!"
Seeing Serna and Pranjić exhausted, Besic immediately called for changes.
Assistant coach Klemen watched the tense pitch anxiously.
Dinamo Zagreb's young players were running out of steam.
Except for Suker, the rest were dragging their legs.
"Let them defend! Let them defend! If we keep this up, we'll get torn apart!" Klemen said nervously.
Besic hesitated.
If they wanted to win, they had to keep sticking to the opponents.
But Klemen was right.
If they kept going, they might collapse.
But could they really defend?
Boom!
Zidane's long shot was forcefully saved by the goalkeeper.
At this moment, Besic gritted his teeth and shouted:
"Defend!"