"Šuker! An unparalleled performance! Who can stop Šuker? No one! Look at him—scoring after a 70-meter sprint and then hitting a world-class rocket!"
"Real Madrid, despite being down to ten men, were the first to score. Inter Milan got careless. They thought having a man advantage meant guaranteed victory, but Šuker's explosion punished them."
"This was truly careless! But for Real Madrid, this is the best outcome!"
"This is absolutely insane!"
González clutched his head, arms raised dramatically, face full of disbelief.
Inter Milan had worked hard to contain Šuker, but they still couldn't extinguish his fighting spirit. A 70-meter solo goal—in a Champions League semifinal no less.
So really—who can stop Šuker?
In the Italian commentary box, Aldo Serena was equally stunned.
"My God! This is Šuker! It reminds me of his time in Milan. I remember he scored a similar goal back then."
"This goal tells everyone—never let your guard down with Šuker. If he senses the slightest defensive gap, he'll turn it into a goal."
"Inter are now trailing! Even with a man advantage, they've suffered a major blow!"
The broadcast cuts to Mourinho.
Hands in his pockets.
His expression is blank, dazed.
Clearly, even Mourinho was shocked.
Sure, Inter were a bit complacent.
But it only took one chance!
And Šuker created it all on his own.
What kind of monster is this guy?
Mourinho's head spun with confusion. He stood up, patted his throbbing temples, and took a deep breath before shouting at the pitch:
"Watch your positions! What are you doing?! Don't think having an extra man guarantees a win! Stay focused!"
Mourinho's roar snapped the Inter players out of their stupor.
They looked at Šuker with dread.
He really hadn't changed—his explosive power was still terrifying.
"We were too careless," Srna said grimly. "Let's stabilize first, shut down Šuker again. There's no rush. Even if we drag the clock, we can win."
At the professional level, a one-man advantage is huge.
As long as they re-establish their defensive scheme around Šuker, they could regain control—maybe even score.
Srna's thinking was sharp and clear.
He knew exactly how to win the match.
The game resumed.
Despite trailing, Inter calmed down and tightened their defense.
Šuker returned to his earlier isolated state.
That goal came from exploiting Inter's temporary high press. Even he couldn't guarantee that kind of solo run would succeed every time.
That earlier strike caught Inter off guard—but next time, they'd never allow him to break through again.
Sure enough, Šuker was isolated up front once more, rarely receiving passes from teammates.
On the other side, Inter began grinding down Real Madrid's defense, slowly leveraging their numerical advantage.
Time ticked by.
At halftime, Real Madrid still led 1-0.
"In the second half, we increase our defensive focus," Ledrup said seriously. "Hold the line. Defend the score."
Casillas replied, "What's the point of just defending? Even if we get to extra time, we might still lose—we're a man down."
Pepe looked down in guilt. He knew his red card had plunged the team into this mess.
"But is there a better option?" Ledrup sighed. "What, are we supposed to attack Inter with ten men? Don't forget—we're still a man short."
Casillas fell silent.
That was the reality.
Ever since Pepe was sent off, Real Madrid lost the initiative.
On the other side, Mourinho was organizing tactics.
Another coach might've gone all-in, trying to end the match quickly.
But Mourinho preferred caution.
He stuck with solid defense while exploiting the numerical edge to counterattack.
The second half began.
When Šuker saw Inter's substitution at the 55th minute, he nearly despaired.
Inter still weren't pushing for attack—they continued reinforcing their defense and doubling down on marking Šuker.
Šuker looked to the sideline at Mourinho.
Are you serious with this?
Mourinho was staring right back.
From here on, he wasn't giving Šuker any chances. Inter had to win.
From the moment they made their first substitution, Inter's counters became sharper.
Then in the 70th minute, just as Real Madrid had failed to sub in time, Inter launched a sudden attack.
Cambiasso switched the ball to the opposite flank for Sneijder.
Sneijder controlled with his chest, then flicked a brilliant curved outside-foot pass.
The ball arced toward the penalty area.
Milito and Ramos clashed in the air, the ball deflecting off their shoulders.
It dropped perfectly—
And Eto'o burst forward, smashing it home!
"GOAL!! The African Cheetah, Eto'o, has scored! Inter Milan equalize!"
"As time wore on, Real Madrid's numerical disadvantage became more and more apparent. They struggled to contain Inter's repeated counterattacks, and finally Eto'o levels the score!"
"Real Madrid are now pushed to the edge of the cliff. Can Šuker conjure more magic?"
It was a beautiful dream.
But Šuker was still human. A single solo run was already astonishing—repeating it was asking too much.
And now, he was swarmed.
In the 75th minute, Real Madrid made their changes.
All attacking players—Raúl and Guti came on.
Ledrup hoped the veterans could change the tide.
But they lacked the impact. It was a poor decision.
Mourinho didn't even bother commenting—he just kept reminding his players: watch Šuker.
If they could keep him quiet, they'd win.
Then in the 89th minute, a heart-stopping moment—
Real Madrid's fourth corner of the game.
Šuker leapt high above the crowd, rising like a rocket to head the ball.
It hurtled toward the goal at a wicked angle—
But just in time, a foot shot out and blocked it.
"Srna!! He saves Inter Milan!"
Aldo Serena shouted at the top of his lungs.
Boom!
Zanetti cleared the ball into touch, then turned and bear-hugged Srna.
"Beautiful work!"
Srna was gasping for air, struggling to slow his heartbeat. "A few minutes left. I can still run. Hang in there!"
Zanetti smiled.
He glanced at Šuker, then back at Srna.
These two Croatians were easily the hardest runners of the match.
Most players would've collapsed from that effort.
But Srna said he could still run.
And Šuker? He didn't even look tired.
Zanetti couldn't help but wonder—is stamina Croatia's national trait?
In the final moments, Srna stuck to Šuker like glue.
The 89th-minute scare had nearly given them a heart attack—they wouldn't let it happen again.
Time ticked down. Srna gritted his teeth and kept pushing Šuker wide.
Then, just as Šuker prepared to break through—
Srna slipped!
"Crap!"
His heart sank.
WHISTLE! WHISTLE! WHISTLE!
Three final blasts—like music to his ears!
Srna lay flat on the ground and exhaled deeply.
They'd won.
Champions League final—here we come!
Whack!
A ball smacked him on the butt.
He looked up to see Šuker glaring at him.
Srna grinned wide.
Šuker shook his head and walked off.
For Real Madrid, it was over.
"Full-time! Inter Milan draw 1-1 with Real Madrid, and with their previous win, advance 2-1 on aggregate to the Champions League final!"
"Inter Milan are the first team to reach the final! Mourinho leads this newly built squad back to the grand stage!"
"Congratulations to Inter Milan!"
"And applause to Real Madrid. Though eliminated, they gave everything they had. Their overall cohesion just wasn't enough to match Inter. But this is only the beginning. I look forward to next season's Real Madrid!"
"Šuker's Champions League journey ends here, which saddens many of his fans. But don't worry—the World Cup is coming, and we'll see even more brilliance from Šuker then."
Outside, Inter players celebrated wildly. Real Madrid's players headed straight to the locker room.
When Šuker walked in, his teammates were slumped on the benches, devastated.
He walked to the center table, pulled out a plastic bag, peeled a banana, and started eating.
It had been an exhausting match—his stomach was growling like crazy.
After two bananas, he finally felt better.
When he looked up, everyone was staring at him.
Their eyes said, "You can still eat??"
Šuker awkwardly coughed.
"You guys… carry on."
Everyone: "…"
Soon, Ledrup and Casillas walked in.
Casillas patted shoulders, offering words of comfort—his duty as captain.
Even if he felt just as crushed.
The room was silent.
Ledrup stood in the center and began:
"We didn't win, and a big part of that is due to my lack of experience. I'm sorry—I'm not a top-level coach. A better coach might've helped you more."
He took the blame.
To be fair—that was admirable.
"To me, you are the best team I've ever coached. Even though we didn't win, I believe this is just the beginning. You will go on to achieve greater things."
"There's no need to be overly upset. Like I said before—this is only the beginning. You will get stronger. I truly believe that."
Everyone fell silent, especially Benzema, Marcelo, and Ramos.
They were still full of frustration.
Their performances weren't awful—but not great either.
If they'd held the lead after Šuker's goal, things might've ended differently.
But now, it was too late.
Clap clap clap!
Ledrup clapped, trying to lift the mood.
"All right, we can't dwell on this! We still have the league and Copa del Rey! Just because we lost the Champions League doesn't mean we've lost everything. Let's go win the rest!"
The Real Madrid players boarded the team bus back to the training base.
Ledrup immediately dismissed the squad.
Everyone scattered.
Šuker returned to his villa, still starving.
Technically, it was too late to eat—but he was famished.
He made himself a bowl of noodles to feel full.
After that, he showered and went straight to bed.
The Champions League exit was disappointing—but not unexpected.
Real Madrid had been unstable all season. Pellegrini was sacked, a mid-season managerial change, a two-horse league race… none of it was ideal.
Without resolving those issues, losing was almost inevitable.
The next day, the Champions League semifinals concluded.
Inter Milan won 2:1 on aggregate over Real Madrid.
The Manchester United vs. Barcelona tie was even tighter. After 90 minutes, the aggregate score was 3:3, with identical away goals.
The match went to extra time.
Each side scored again in extra time—sending it to penalties.
In the shootout, United's Van der Sar used his experience to save three shots, completely crushing Barcelona's confidence.
Final score: 4-2 on penalties. United go to the final.
For Real Madrid, none of that mattered anymore.
Their focus had to shift back to La Liga.
Four matches remained: Osasuna, Malaga, Athletic Bilbao, and Mallorca.
Of those, Malaga was the toughest.
Why? Because they were clinging to 17th place—just one point above the drop zone.
One point—heaven or hell.
They'd fight tooth and nail for at least a draw.
But Real Madrid wanted the title.
Especially after Barcelona's Champions League elimination—the league was now the only trophy left.
With Barça chasing hard, Madrid had to be careful.
May 6th, Real Madrid vs. Malaga (away)
The relegation battlers parked the bus hard.
They knew attacking would get them nowhere.
All they wanted was a draw, so defense was their top priority.
By the 70th minute, Real Madrid were visibly frustrated.
Šuker tried multiple dribbles but couldn't draw a penalty.
That's when he realized his limitation—
He needed Juninho's free-kick skills.
Free-kicks were his only offensive shortcoming.
He was decent, but not world-class. Without a "diamond-level" skill card, he wasn't even the top free-kick taker on his team.
He couldn't be a dead-ball specialist with just a platinum card.
If he had those skills, he could just draw fouls and score from them.
"Cross it in!" Šuker shouted, pointing to his head.
Xabi Alonso nodded.
Real Madrid had sent all their aerial threats into the box—they had to win this game.
A draw or loss could hand Barça the momentum.
Bang!Alonso whipped the ball in.
Šuker sprinted from the edge of the box toward the near post.
He planted, leapt—
Header!
"Malaga! Get ready for relegation!"
Swoosh!
A textbook header into the near post!
81st minute—goal!
"GOAL!! Šuker!!"
"36 matches—42 goals! Šuker breaks the single-season La Liga goal record in his debut season!"
"This is the Croatian super striker—Real Madrid's superstar forward!"
"Alonso's delivery was perfect, and Šuker's run and header were absolutely crucial!"
"Real Madrid are about to take all three points and shove Malaga into the drop zone!"
Full-time: Real Madrid win 1-0, thanks to Šuker's goal.
They not only pushed Malaga into the relegation zone but also preserved their 4-point lead.
One step closer to the La Liga title!