"So boring!"
Inside Suker's villa, Srna was practically rolling around on the sofa.
It was the international break, and since neither he nor Suker had been called up to the national team, they were enjoying a rare day off.
Initially, he thought the break would be enjoyable.
But after just two days, he couldn't take it anymore.
He was bored!
Under the previously packed schedule, every day was filled with training and matches, and time flew by. Life felt full and satisfying.
But now that things had slowed down, he didn't know what to do with himself.
"What should we do?"
Srna flipped upright, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Suker.
"I've never been to San Miguel!"
San Miguel, located in the center of Madrid, is a popular area filled with bars, restaurants, and other service industries — a favorite spot for many players.
Suker shook his head immediately. "I'm not taking a married man bar hopping."
"It's not like we have to go to a bar!" Srna shrugged. "I've been in Madrid this whole time and haven't really explored it."
"Where do you want to go?"
"Anywhere — the bullring, downtown, grab a meal, and maybe catch a match tonight?"
"A match?" Suker turned his head.
Srna: "Yeah, Spain's playing tonight, right? At the Bernabéu. We could go watch it!"
Suker thought about it and felt tempted. He immediately got up to get dressed.
Soon after, he stepped out wearing black tailored shorts, a white tank top, and a thin gray linen shirt over it, paired with white sneakers.
"Let's go!"
Suker's Rolls-Royce was too flashy, so they decided to use public transportation.
They threw on some hats and sunglasses for a bit of disguise.
Buses in Madrid are usually empty outside rush hour.
Especially on weekdays — the whole bus was nearly deserted.
They sat in the back, enjoying the view as the bus drove toward the city center.
Along the way, the scenery shifted — from the outskirts to towering skyscrapers, with iconic buildings passing by from time to time.
Maybe it was because he hadn't had fun in a while, but Srna was especially excited.
Suker sipped on a cup of iced coffee.
The summer heat was eased by the cold drink. With the window open and a breeze blowing in, it was quite comfortable.
They arrived at Puerta del Sol in the city center.
Directly ahead was a park, to the left a shopping mall, and to the right a busy street bustling with cars.
The crowd flowed endlessly, and they quickly blended in.
"Now this feels like real life!"
Srna kept turning his head to look at people, more interested in the crowd than the sights.
And honestly, that was true.
For Srna, Real Madrid's training ground was in the suburbs, and they lived out there too.
He didn't particularly enjoy bars and his social circle mainly consisted of Suker and a few others — so he was craving something fresh.
He was used to wide open fields. Now, the packed sidewalks, buzzing streets, and noisy atmosphere of the city were refreshing to him.
But the novelty only lasted about 1–2 hours.
Two hours later—
"Let's head back!"
Srna sat at an outdoor café with Suker, looking tired. "It was fun at first, but I'm already over it!"
Suker: "Don't you go shopping with your wife?"
With stamina like this, how could he possibly go shopping with a woman?
"Shopping?" Srna raised his head slightly. "We both like staying home. Even when we go out, it's only for a few hours before we head back."
Suker nodded.
As expected — two homebodies.
Bored again, Srna pulled out his phone to kill time.
Suker noticed he had a new phone — the iPhone 4, just released in June.
Phones had evolved past just calling and texting. It was now the age of smartphones — web browsing, watching videos, all becoming more convenient.
Srna started browsing YouTube, with football videos dominating the algorithm.
One video title caught his eye: "Champions League Assists from Genk's Young Star Kevin De Bruyne!"
He clicked the video — it showcased several brilliant assists by a young De Bruyne in the Champions League.
The final clip was a beautiful rainbow flick assist.
"Damn, that's nice!"
Srna praised, "His passing is even more entertaining than Luka's."
Suker leaned over for a glance and nodded. "Not bad at all."
The Champions League could massively amplify a player's talent — especially if they were young, unique, and performed well. It was the perfect stage to get noticed by top clubs.
And now, after this Champions League run, Kevin De Bruyne had already become a hot commodity among clubs in Europe's top five leagues.
Of course, that was all it was for now — he hadn't done enough to truly move the big clubs yet.
"Let's buy him and develop him. He could become a weapon," said Srna.
Suker glanced at him disdainfully. "That's such a low-level thought."
"You don't think it's a good idea?" Srna asked.
"Letting Real Madrid develop young players? Forget about whether he even gets a chance to play — the bench competition at a big club could crush him!"
Suker shook his head. "We're not a nursery for kids. We need players who are ready now. Training and developing young guys — that's the job of smaller clubs. Our goal is titles. If he becomes great, we'll just buy him then."
"Don't forget — we're Real Madrid. No one says no to Real Madrid. And even fewer say no to a Real Madrid that's willing to spend."
Suker's voice was firm.
"Of course, if someone really impresses with elite performances, then that's another story."
To succeed at a top club and become a core player immediately — that was rare.
Suker and Kaká were the most iconic examples.
When they joined AC Milan, both had monster performances that forced even the biggest clubs to take notice.
Kaká had torn up the Brazilian league and spent some time on the bench before breaking into the starting XI.
Suker? He was even crazier — not yet twenty years old and already the Champions League top scorer. That kind of performance could truly move a giant.
So while De Bruyne was good, he wasn't at Suker level.
Suker glanced at Srna teasingly: "Think about your own experience."
Srna froze. His face stiffened.
"Damn Capello!"
For Srna, his season at Juventus was a nightmare.
It nearly ended his career. If he hadn't made the decision to leave immediately, he might've rotted on Juve's bench.
Suker took another sip of his coffee and checked his watch.
"It's about time. Let's go."
"Go where?" asked Sierna.
Suker winked. "To watch the match! By the way, did you buy tickets?"
Srna blinked innocently.
"Tickets?"
BANG!
"Yep, that's how it is. Got it," Suker said awkwardly on the phone to Florentino Pérez, giving Sierna a sharp glare.
"There's a VIP Box 9 open. You can watch the match there. And if we win the Champions League this season, I'll give it to you permanently!" Florentino said with a grin.
Suker raised an eyebrow. "Looks like we've got one more reason to win the title."
"Hahaha!!" Florentino laughed heartily and nodded. "Alright then, I've got other things to do."
Call ended.
Suker exhaled and smacked Srna's head again.
"You've gotten so unreliable!"
Since joining Real Madrid, the dependable Srna had started slacking.
Suker said he'd cover for him.
But not take care of him!
"I forgot you need tickets to watch games," Srna grinned awkwardly.
Ever since becoming famous, he'd always been invited or gotten inside through the club. It had been a while since he needed to buy a ticket.
Luckily, Suker had a good relationship with Florentino — otherwise, they might've missed the match.
"Let's go."
Suker said irritably.
Srna stood up and looked at Suker with admiration: "I didn't think you could just call the president directly!"
Even after joining Real Madrid, Florentino remained a distant figure to most players — they rarely saw him outside official events.
But Suker? One phone call and he had Florentino on the line.
That showed just how special Suker's status was at Real Madrid.
They were familiar with the Bernabéu by now.
Still, they needed a guide to access the VIP box.
This box wasn't at the top, but rather mid-level — closer to the pitch, with a better view.
Inside was a private lounge, and outside, a terrace to feel the stadium's atmosphere more directly.
"Vamos España!""Vamos España!""Vamos España!""We are the Matador Dynasty!"
Since winning the 2010 World Cup, Spanish football had reached its peak — and was still there.
The dominance wasn't just on the pitch. The fans in the stands were brimming with confidence too.
They believed no one could beat them — and that belief added even more pressure on their opponents.
"The pressure feels even more intense now."
Srna looked toward the stands filled with passionate Spanish fans.
Compared to the World Cup days, they were now more confident than ever.
Winning the World Cup, lifting the trophy, standing at the top of the world.
It gave not just Spain, but the entire nation and its people a new level of confidence in football.
Unlike other national teams still chasing that elusive trophy, Spain had already achieved it.
Their future targets were always the World Cup.
The next generation was walking a path paved by their predecessors.
Even if the journey was tough, even if it was full of thorns…
Their goal was clear — like a lighthouse shining in the dark.
This was what Croatia lacked.
The unwavering courage to win it all.
Not just from the players — but from the entire country and its people, deep within.
Tonight's match: Spain vs. Scotland.
The final European Championship qualifier of the year.
The next one wouldn't be until March next year.
Euro qualifiers would continue through the end of next year, leading into the 2012 tournament.
Kickoff!
"Scotland's pressing high too!"
"Everyone knows now — you have to press Spain high."
Suker said seriously, "But it depends on your squad strength too."
Even knowing Spain's weaknesses didn't matter if you didn't have the strength to capitalize.
But Scotland came out with fire.
Even against peak Spain, on the road, they were aggressive and brave.
Their pressing was intense.
"I don't think Spain can hold on much longer!"
Srna noticed Spain's midfield getting rattled under Scotland's pressure.
Suker focused his attention.
Xavi wasn't playing this match.
Alonso had taken his spot.
And that highlighted Xavi's value — with or without him, Spain played like two completely different teams.
The smooth midfield passing and transitions were missing.
Of course, Alonso was great, but Xavi fit the system better.
Then there was Cazorla.
Suker watched the skillful Spanish midfielder.
He had a strong impression of him — Cazorla rose to prominence at Arsenal.
In the post-Fàbregas era, with his silky footwork and growing vision, he became Arsène Wenger's sharpest weapon.
At his peak — despite the team not winning — he was considered the only player at Arsenal with Champions League-winning ability.
But right now, Cazorla was still young and hadn't fully developed that vision.
Iniesta and Cazorla played wide.
Iniesta used tight passing and combination play to slice through defenses.
Cazorla relied more on his footwork.
By the 50th minute, Spain led 2–1.
The crowd had quieted a bit — they didn't expect such a tough match at home.
Then came the disaster at the 66th minute.
While trying to clear in the box, Piqué mishit the ball — and it flew into his own goal! Casillas had no chance.
"No way?"
"An own goal?!"
Suker and Srna both grimaced.
Spain was in trouble.
Scotland had tied it.
Now Spain looked desperate.
Meanwhile, Scotland was fired up.
They sat deeper and focused on defense.
All they needed was a draw to take down a powerhouse on the road.
But things didn't go their way — Spain was still Spain.
At the 70th minute, coach Borges made a change.
David Silva came off. Llorente came on.
And just 9 minutes later, Llorente scored the winner.
The Bernabéu erupted again.
Sierna sighed, "Spain almost slipped up."
Suker nodded.
With the 79th-minute goal, Spain slowed the tempo and prioritized possession.
Scotland kept trying to press, but they were too tired compared to the first half — no longer a threat.
Full-time: Spain 3–2 Scotland.
"Let's go."
Suker shook his head.
He'd hoped to evaluate Spain — a major rival for Euro 2012.
But without Xavi, they weren't at full strength.
That disappointed him.
Meanwhile in Zagreb, Croatia — at the Maksimir Stadium…
"The match ends! Croatia wins 3–1 against Malta, continuing their winning streak in Euro qualifying!"
"Coach Besic used many new faces — Lovren, Strinic, and young Brozović off the bench."
"Without stars like Suker and Srna, Modric, Rakitic, and Mandzukic led the team to victory!"
"The young players still lack consistency, but we need to be patient. With time, they can become important contributors."
Brozović was thrilled.
Though he made some mistakes, he also had highlights — like launching the counterattack that led to Croatia's third goal.
He was especially happy.
The only regret?
Not being able to play alongside a full-strength Croatia — especially not with Suker.
"Nice job!"Rakitic ruffled his hair with a grin. "You're showing shades of me!"
Brozović smiled and nodded, then turned away and pouted.
His goal wasn't Rakitic!
Back in the locker room, after showering and dressing, Rakitic came over again.
"Here — this is for you."
He handed over a black, square-shaped box made of suede — luxurious, with no label.
"What is it?" Brozović asked.
Rakitic: "From Suker. He said if you made your debut, I should give this to you."
As soon as he heard it was from Suker, Brozović eagerly took the box.
Inside was a brand-new Rolex.
There was also a note:
"Marcelo, congrats on your debut! Here's a gift."
Simple words — but they made Brozović incredibly happy.
Then he noticed a line at the bottom:
"Next goal: starting XI. Reward — a sports car! (P.S. If you perform well, I'll recommend you to Real Madrid!)"
Brozović's eyes lit up with fire — his fighting spirit roared to life!