Inside Milan's locker room, everyone was quietly packing their bags.
They were about to head to Athens, Greece, for the Champions League final.
But most importantly, they were going for revenge!
"The atmosphere is so heavy!"
Suker leaned over and whispered, "Is it really necessary?"
Kaká snapped back, "Haven't we talked about this? You know what this match means to us."
"A revenge battle!" Suker put his hands on his hips. "Just crush them!"
"Not easy! Liverpool is a tough team!" Kaká said seriously.
Suker glanced at Kaká, sensing that both Kaká and the other Milan players were still shadowed by that match.
This led to excessive tension before the game.
Of course, if Suker had experienced such an almost incomprehensible collapse, his mentality wouldn't be any better.
But it's been two years!
The veterans still haven't gotten over it.
Perhaps as Nesta said, these two years have been a time for these Milan players to silently lick their wounds; some things just need more time to heal.
Seeing the heavy atmosphere, Suker didn't continue to joke around.
Even when he wanted to liven things up, some moments weren't right — it was easy to cross a line, even among good friends.
Ancelotti was meticulously reminding players to pack their things, even down to asking about underwear and socks.
Suker finished packing and took his seat on the bus.
His usual spot was near the window, third from the back.
In front of him was Gilardino, who was grumbling over a newspaper.
"What are you mumbling about?" Suker leaned forward and asked.
Gilardino pointed at the paper and cursed, "They're way too arrogant! Absolutely ridiculous!"
Suker took the newspaper. It was an interview with Liverpool coach Benítez about the Champions League final.
"We don't think Milan is particularly strong. Maybe the whole world fears Milan — but not us. Yes! Milan fears us!"
Suker sucked in a breath.
"That damn fat guy is really arrogant!" Suker pointed at the paper and scolded. "Does he think I'm just some dead weight, Kaká?"
"Enough already!" Kaká, just boarding the bus, heard Suker's rant and shouted back in annoyance.
"But Liverpool deserves it," Gilardino sighed. "They did humiliate Milan in that match."
"That was then, this is now. What's there to fear?" Suker patted his chest. "Watch me deal with them!"
Gilardino smiled.
If it were anyone else, maybe not believable — but Suker was known for his freakish performance.
Plus, although Liverpool made the final, Gilardino thought this season's Manchester United was stronger.
Since they crushed Manchester United to reach the final, beating Liverpool shouldn't be a problem.
Before long, all Milan players on the squad boarded the bus and headed to the airport.
The bus was silent.
Suddenly, Suker shouted, "How about we sing a song?"
"Sing what?" Maldini thought the atmosphere was too tense too.
Suker loudly began:
"We~~~are~~~the uh?"
Maldini covered Suker's mouth.
"Don't sing that!" Maldini said helplessly. "Change the song!"
"Winner! Winner!"
"Change it again!"
"Victory~is—"
"Stop singing!"
Maldini immediately cut him off, waving his hand: "Sit properly."
Maldini was now refusing all pre-game jinxes.
Suker shook his head in resignation.
Trying to lighten the mood but hitting these old guys' nerve spots.
Around 11 a.m., the whole Milan team arrived at the airport.
Compared to before, the airport was bustling.
The area was shrouded in red smoke, police cars escorted them to avoid traffic accidents.
Through the smoke, dense crowds of fans could be seen on both sides.
Tens of thousands shouted slogans, shaking the sky.
Last season when they went to the Champions League, the scene was nowhere near this grand.
It showed how explosive the allure of defending the title and revenge against Liverpool had become this season.
What should have been a short two-kilometer drive took half an hour.
With airport security assistance, they smoothly went down to the underground parking and entered the terminal through a special channel.
Milan players carried various passports, but entry was smooth.
Greece handled this well.
For Greece, these players were cash cows boosting the local economy and tourism.
Under the influence of the Champions League final, Greece wouldn't make visa issues for these "cash cows."
After entering Greece, at the gate, Milan players were harassed by a group of reporters.
But Ancelotti had ordered no interviews before the match.
So everyone walked with heads down.
Still, these reporters were relentless.
They kept talking about "Istanbul" — this was Athens, come on, show some respect to the hosts.
With repeated mentions of Istanbul, the players' faces turned heavy again.
Old painful memories began to surge.
Finally, they passed through the crowd and boarded a bus.
The whole world fell silent.
"Damn it!"
"It's been two years, and these guys still keep messing with us."
"Once you're nailed to the pillar of shame, even after a hundred years, they'll still bring it up."
"This time, we must get revenge!"
The Milan players' eyes hardened.
Suker thought, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.
At the hotel, under Ancelotti's arrangement, everyone was assigned rooms.
Suker and Kaká shared a room.
They were the closest, usually sharing a room.
Pirlo and Gattuso were separated.
Though midfield partners, they were always split for important matches.
Ancelotti wanted Gattuso well-rested, not constantly pranked by Pirlo.
After Milan arrived at the hotel, Liverpool's "Red Army" arrived two hours later in Athens.
Benítez walked in front, chin raised, steps steady.
Since coaching Liverpool, he not only staged the Istanbul miracle but also led the team to the final this season.
Now, Benítez was an accomplished Liverpool coach.
That Istanbul night was a lifetime glory for him.
Even when he later coached Chelsea, he often mentioned that match.
That was the root of his conflict with Chelsea players.
Who wants to hear the current coach praising his old team, especially when it's a rival?
Chelsea players barely endured it.
It was like praising your ex in front of your current partner — and the ex is sitting right next to you, looking good.
Everyone would blow up.
Facing reporters, Benítez proudly said:
"Predict the match? Simple. When the referee blows the final whistle three times, Liverpool will lift the trophy. That's it."
Watching the live broadcast, Suker slightly opened his mouth.
"Damn it! That damn fat guy is arrogant without limits!"
Even without experiencing the Istanbul night, Suker strongly disliked Benítez's words.
Maldini lowered his head slightly, his body trembling lightly.
Clearly, he felt extreme malice and insult from Benítez's remarks.
But he couldn't lash out — after all, they had lost the game.
He had the right to say that.
After a while, Maldini seemed to calm down.
He slowly stood and said:
"Everyone get a good rest today. Tomorrow a light training, then field inspection the day after, then prepare to fight."
With that, Maldini left the room.
Suker lay on the bed and looked at Kaká.
Kaká's gaze sharpened.
"Ready to explode?" Suker asked.
Kaká turned: "With you here, that's enough. I'll help create chances for you."
Suker sighed.
Had Kaká completely surrendered?
No benefits, so upset!