In the sunlight, on the grassy lawn outside the hospital.
Suker was passing the ball back and forth with little Andrés.
Only, Andrés's passes were wildly off target, forcing Suker to constantly run and fetch the ball.
But the little guy was kicking harder and harder, clearly enjoying himself—while Suker was just constantly chasing after balls.
Damn it!Since joining Dinamo Zagreb, Suker hadn't picked up a ball like this once!
"Let's stop here."
Suker waved with the ball in his hands.
Little Andrés looked up, confused. "Is it over already? I haven't had enough fun yet."
Suker shook his head and pointed to his heart.
Seeing this, little Andrés lowered his head in disappointment.
In the end, the two of them sat side by side.
Under the sun, warm breezes blew gently.
Andrés looked up at the blue sky and said with a trace of hope,"My childhood dream was just to play football happily."
"You're still a kid now!"
Andrés pouted and continued, "I even wanted to be a professional footballer."
Suker: "…"
With your footwork? Try a different dream!
"I started following you last year, when you joined Real Madrid. That's when I thought, wow, we signed someone incredible!" Andrés said excitedly. "Turns out I was right! This season we beat Barcelona twice—we really gave it to them!"
Suker raised two fingers. "Twice!"
"Hahaha!" Andrés laughed joyfully. "Exactly, twice!"
"And then your performance in the World Cup—it totally made me a fan…"
"Hmm, maybe 'falling for you' isn't the best choice of words?"
"Can you stop interrupting me?" Andrés protested. "I'm only six—what more do you want from me?"
Suker: "…Sorry, continue!"
Andrés pouted. "Now I forgot what I was going to say."
"Then you ask questions, and I'll answer?"
Andrés's eyes lit up. "Okay!"
"Is Kaka handsome in real life?"
Suker: "Mention him again, and I'm leaving."
"Hahahahaha! Sorry, that was a little payback."
"Is Pepe really scary?"
"Scary! Loves to fight!"
"Who's scarier, Ramos or Pepe?"
"I'm the scariest!"
"You? Doesn't look like it!"
"Oh, and Benzema's really cool. I like him too."
"He's got smelly feet."
"What? Really? Then I don't like him anymore."
"Marcelo's really cute too!"
"He's got smelly feet too!"
The two kept chatting, and Andrés couldn't stop laughing thanks to Suker. But before long, he was holding his chest, struggling to continue.
"I still want to talk more with you."
Sitting in his wheelchair, Andrés looked at Suker, a bit downcast.
"When you get better, we'll talk more—and even play football together."
"Promise?" Andrés brightened up instantly.
Finally, Andrés looked at Suker gratefully and said,"Thank you, Suker. I had so much fun today. This has been the most meaningful day of my life."
Suker shook his head and interrupted, "I have to stop you there. Your life is just beginning. You said you wanted to be a professional footballer, right? Well, professionals survive through competition—especially in top leagues like La Liga. So, Andrés, your biggest opponent right now is the surgery. Overcome it! Beat it! And let your life shine again!"
"I hope that when you open your eyes again, you'll have a healthy heart, that you'll get to play in a match, feel your calves cramping, your heart racing, your chest burning…"
"I sincerely hope for that."
Andrés puckered his lips, holding back tears, and nodded hard. "Okay! I will beat this surgery. I'll come back healthy! My name is Andrés—in Spanish, that means 'brave.' But thank you, Suker, because you gave me courage!"
Suker nodded. "Don't forget to watch tomorrow's match!"
As his parents pushed him away, Andrés nodded. "Don't worry—I won't miss any of your games!"
After everyone left, Zorančić approached Suker and said with emotion, "What a cheerful kid."
Suker nodded. "Just... his footwork's a little lacking."
Zorančić snapped, "Can't you just say something nice?"
"It's true—his footwork's bad!" Suker shrugged. "And he wants to be a pro…"
"Dreams! That's called having dreams!" Zorančić emphasized.
Suker shook his head.
Dreams?
They need to be grounded in reality. If Suker hadn't gotten a break, he'd still be bussing tables at Bakić's restaurant!
Back at the club, Suker headed straight to the tactics room for the team meeting.
After three Champions League matches, Real Madrid had won them all.
But they couldn't afford to relax.
Mourinho wanted to finish first in the group, so every match mattered.
Next up: Ajax.
Judging by the third round, Ajax wouldn't pose much threat. If they struggled at home, coming to the Bernabéu would be even tougher.
Last time they played Ajax, they still had talents like Suárez and Vermaelen. But now, another wave of talent had been poached by Europe's top clubs—their strength had dropped again.
Still, Suker deeply respected Ajax.
They sold players every year, but still qualified for the Champions League.No wonder they're Europe's most famous talent factory—they've got something special.
After the tactics session, players headed home.
The next evening would be their fourth Champions League group match. Even though they'd beaten Ajax before, they had to stay sharp.
That night, Suker grabbed a white undershirt and used a black marker to write something on it—then fell into a deep sleep.
The next day, Champions League fever swept through Madrid again—more intense than ever.
The fans were fired up.
Maybe it was because of the team's great form—fans believed they were on the verge of returning to the peak.
The Champions League.Real Madrid didn't lack for trophies—but this wait had been too long.
Their last Champions League title was in 2001/2002—eight years ago.
So this season, with the new Galácticos 2.0, fans were filled with hope.
No matter who the opponent was, they believed Real Madrid would win!
As the sun set, the players arrived at the Santiago Bernabéu.
The entire stadium was buzzing.
Thanks to their strong form, the club's activities and promotions were well received by the fans.
And with superstar power and strong results, Real Madrid was raking in profits like crazy.
They were the richest club around.
But President Florentino Pérez wasn't stingy.
He invested not just in transfers, but in the training base, stadium upgrades, equipment, and generous bonuses for players.
Big rewards bring brave warriors!
For Real Madrid, this was just routine business—money making more money.
Warm-ups ended.
The players returned to the locker room to change.
Suker put on the white undershirt underneath his club jersey.
Seeing this, Srna grinned. "Aren't you hot?"
Even though it was white, Madrid's weather was scorching—this layering was brutal.
Suker lifted his shirt to reveal a line of text underneath:
"Bless you, Andrés!"
"Got it?" Suker said simply.
Casillas asked, "Is that for the boy with the heart condition you met yesterday?"
Suker nodded.
Casillas clapped. "Alright boys—today's mission: help Suker score so he can show that shirt!"
Suker gave a thumbs-up. "I'm going for a hat trick!"
Everyone stared at him in disbelief.
Srna: "Are you nuts?!"
Suker: "Makes it more meaningful—he deserves the best!"
Then he leaned on Srna's shoulder and grinned. "You don't think I can?"
"You can!" Srna forced a smile. "Now get your hand off my thigh!"
Suker nodded in satisfaction. "Smart man."
Starting players lined up to head out. In the crowd, Diarra looked gloomy.
He was promised four games on the bench—but it was past that, and Mourinho still hadn't reinstated him.
After a few matches, Diarra realized—he'd been abandoned.
All because of those two failed dribble attempts.
During this time, Diarra had even asked Casillas to plead on his behalf.
But Casillas flat-out refused.
He'd figured out Mourinho's game.
If he stepped in, Mourinho could use that to justify benching Di María—and then what would Suker think?
If Suker felt Casillas couldn't protect his own guys, it could strain their relationship.
So Casillas chose to sacrifice Diarra.
Besides, Diarra had done nothing in 10 matches.
Meanwhile, since Di María got the starting spot, he already had 2 goals and 2 assists.
The performance comparison was clear—Casillas knew what had to be done.
Team results mattered most.
Diarra complained it was favoritism from Suker, Kaká, and Benzema.
After all, the forward line was run by Suker's clique. If they didn't cooperate, Diarra couldn't do anything.
If they did, someone like Di María could shine.
But Casillas had nothing to say—he didn't control the forwards anyway.
Starting Lineups:
Real Madrid (4-3-3):GK: CasillasDefenders: Srna, Ramos, Pepe, MarceloMidfielders: Khedira, Alonso, Di MaríaForwards: Kaká, Benzema, Suker
Ajax (4-2-3-1):GK: StekelenburgDefenders: Alderweireld, Van der Wiel, Oleguer, OjoMidfielders: Enoh, Anita, De Jong, De Zeeuw, SulejmaniForward: Hamdaoui
Players took their positions—the match was about to start.
And all of Spain was watching via live broadcast.
"Go Suker!"
In the hospital room, little Andrés wore Suker's jersey and shouted with excitement.
His parents were by his side.
Commentator González couldn't stop talking about Suker—making Andrés even prouder.
See? His idol really was that amazing.
He looked at Suker's close-up on TV.
In person, Suker never treated him like a patient or a child—he talked like a friend.
And unlike those boring scripted PR events, Suker spoke from the heart.
That's why Andrés now believed more than ever—he'd chosen the right person to admire.
On screen, Suker's face was serious.
"Today's mission is tough—I need three goals!"
Benzema nodded beside him. "The last one's for that, right?"
Suker nodded. "Exactly."
"Alright then."
Benzema gave a knowing look.
"This is the 2010/2011 UEFA Champions League, Matchday 4—Real Madrid vs Ajax!"
Whistle blows!Real Madrid launches a quick attack. Ball goes to Kaká—roulette spin! He beats his marker! Pass to Benzema, who lets it go!
The ball rolls to the left flank—Suker sprints in and strikes with his left foot!
GOAL!!! SUKER!!!
Just 18 seconds in!Not the fastest in Champions League history, but still a perfect start!
(Fastest: 10.2 seconds, Bayern vs Real Madrid, 2006/2007—Makaay capitalized on a Carlos mistake.)
Suker dashed to the corner flag, lifting his shirt slightly to reveal part of the undershirt:
"Bless you, little Andrés!"
"Little Andrés is a child Suker visited yesterday. On the eve of major heart surgery, Suker's goal brings him hope and strength."
Thunderous applause filled the Bernabéu—for Suker's gesture.
Though... fans were curious—why was the message near his stomach instead of the chest?
23rd minute: Real Madrid counterattack!
Ramos clears, Di María passes to Suker.Suker feeds Benzema, who lobs it behind the defense.
Suker chests it down, taps forward, charges into the box—BANG!
Off the crossbar and in!
What a rocket!
"Suker again! He's unstoppable! No one can contain him!"
Back to the corner flag, he lifts his shirt again—this time higher.
Above the previous message:"Is this enough for you?"
Now the commentator and fans were baffled.
Another message?
Usually one goal, one message…
But this was Suker.
Srna: "That's what happens when you score too much."
Ramos: "Because he's too damn good!"
They high-fived.
But the third goal proved difficult.
Ajax clamped down, fouling Suker repeatedly.
Mourinho frowned—he liked the sentiment, but not the risk of injury.
He even considered subbing Suker off—they were two goals up already.
Kaká noticed too.
Suker still posed a threat—but was drawing dangerous tackles.
So Kaká shouted: "Pass it to me!"
He took over the attack, making runs and creating chances while Suker drew defenders.
Finally, in the 67th minute, Kaká was fouled in the box—PENALTY!
"Yours!"Kaká tossed him the ball. "Third goal!"
Suker gave a thumbs-up. "Legend!"
He stepped up, took a breath…
Runs... feints... wrong-foots the keeper... shoots opposite corner!
GOAL! HAT TRICK!!
Suker sprinted to the left corner of Madrid's half.
His teammates followed—even Casillas ran over.
Together, they stood in front of the cameras.
Suker ripped off his jersey—underneath, on his chest:
"This hat trick is for you—may it give you courage!"
All the Real Madrid players—these superstars—shouted at the top of their lungs:
"Bless you, little Andrés!!—"