It was extremely quiet inside Suker's car.
Suker was driving, with Bešić in the front passenger seat. In the back sat Vastenak and Srna.
No one was speaking.
Suker focused on the road.
Bešić also stared ahead, expression calm.
This made the atmosphere inside the car incredibly oppressive.
Van Stoyak slightly grinned, turned to Srna, and whispered, "Are they not getting along?"
Srna grinned too. "They had a minor disagreement in the past, but their relationship is still good."
"Really?" Van Stoyak wasn't so sure. From the moment these two met, they had barely exchanged any words.
Ahem!
Van Stoyak cleared his throat and suddenly said, "Congratulations on winning the Spanish Super Cup!"
"Thank you!"
Suker turned and gave a slight smile, then focused back on driving.
Van Stoyak noticed Bešić still didn't say anything and could only smile helplessly.
"It's been five years. Are you still upset over that?" Bešić suddenly broke the silence.
Suker shrugged. "Upset? Not really. Just still a little annoyed."
"From my perspective, what I did was the right decision," Bešić said.
Suker replied, "I never said you were wrong, but it just doesn't sit well."
Bešić looked over at Suker. "Betty asked me to tell you that she's really enjoying the gift you gave her."
Suker nodded. "How's Auntie Betty's health?"
"She's doing well—very happy every day."
"You're not annoying her, are you?"
"Why would I? Though Solankic is a mischievous kid and often gets her mad!"
Suker smiled. "That's normal for boys!"
Bešić turned to him. "That house in Milan is too expensive. Betty and I discussed it…"
Suker waved his hand. "It wasn't for you. I gave it to little Solankic. I just like the kid—is that not allowed?"
"You brat," Bešić shook his head.
Before long, the four arrived at Suker's villa.
After inviting them inside, they all sat on the sofa.
Bešić looked at Suker and Srna. "The main purpose of this trip is to evaluate Srna. I'm planning to rebuild the defense."
Suker and Srna exchanged glances.
They had no objections.
After all, both Srna and Pranjić's positions were secure.
Young, energetic, and in good form.
Most likely, it was the center-back pairing that would be changed.
As for resistance? Nearly impossible.
Bešić's status spoke for itself. You could say that most of the players on the Croatian national team had been discovered and coached by him during his time at Dinamo Zagreb.
You could even call Bešić the "teacher" of the Croatian national team.
And respecting one's teacher is a universal principle!
Especially since, in front of Bešić, many Croatian players reverted to a student mentality, having been coached by him early in their careers.
Compared to someone like Bilić, who took over midway, Bešić held a kind of "bloodline suppression" over the national players.
Suker nudged Srna with his elbow.
"Say something!"
This guy had been silent ever since he saw Bešić.
Bešić turned to Srna and asked, "Do you have any objections?"
"No!" Srna instinctively sat up straighter.
Van Stoyak grinned watching this.
When Bilić was coach, none of the national team players—especially Srna—were ever this nervous.
Bešić nodded. "The first match of the Euro qualifiers is on September 7. You'll have to report to the national team after the league's first round."
"I'll announce the latest squad in a few days. September 1 is the reporting date, and we'll have a week of training."
Both nodded.
Suker asked, "Will the training include physical conditioning?"
"Physical training?" Van Stoyak chuckled. "We only have a week—most of it is adjustment and tactics. No time for conditioning!"
"I see~" Suker sounded disappointed.
"Got something in mind?" Bešić asked.
Since he was young, Suker had always had ideas.
Suker scratched his head, then walked upstairs under everyone's curious gaze.
When he came back, he was carrying a large cardboard box.
Bang!He placed it down—it was heavy.
Srna asked curiously, "What is that?"
When Suker opened the box, Srna's face changed dramatically.
"Are you insane?!"
Inside were several altitude masks, lying quietly. And not just a few.
Because of the past week's conditioning, Srna had grown to hate these things.
He didn't expect Suker to pull them out again.
"These are Real Madrid's latest fitness tools—'altitude masks.' They can significantly improve endurance, extreme performance, and recovery in a short time. Based on our experience, I think they're worth promoting."
Suker looked at Bešić seriously.
Bešić was intrigued by the masks.
He had previously considered high-altitude training—back when he coached Suker in their second season, during their first Champions League playoff appearance.
But time and budget constraints forced him to abandon the plan.
He didn't expect a simple mask could achieve the same effect.
"Calculate the cost and report it to me," Bešić said with interest.
Suker waved it off. "No need—my treat!"
"Business is business!" Bešić said seriously. "This is for the national team. How can the players foot the bill?"
Suker smiled. "It's just pocket change."
"Even pocket change is still money. Bilić said everything must be done above board." Bešić added, "I know you're rich, but don't spend like this. The luxury car you gave Betty, fine—but the house for Solankic was too much."
Suker waved his hand. "It wasn't for you."
"That's not the point," Bešić said sternly. "The point is how others see it."
"I'm the national team coach. You're a national team player. If you give my wife and child a car and a house, some people will see it as bribery."
"I know you're grateful to Betty for looking after you before—but don't use material gifts. Just visit her when you can. That means more than anything."
Bešić sighed. "Return the car and house. Maybe it was fine before, but not now. It's inappropriate."
Suker scratched his head—he understood Bešić's point.
No matter the intention, if the media twisted it, it could cause a PR nightmare.
"Alright, I'll take care of it," Suker sighed.
Bešić nodded in satisfaction and said, "Report on September 1. Don't forget!"
Then he took a few steps away—but turned back, attempting to lift the heavy box.
His face turned red from the effort, but he didn't let go.
Clearly, he really liked those altitude masks.
Suker smiled helplessly. "Just leave it—I'll send them to the national team training center."
Bešić froze, then awkwardly set down the box. He clapped his hands and cleared his throat. "We'll cover the shipping!"
With that, he and Van Stoyak turned and left.
Watching them go, Suker shook his head.
"That guy hasn't changed one bit. Stubborn, rigid, and obsessed with rules."
Srna smiled. "Still, Coach Bešić is very responsible. I respect him."
Suker shrugged. "Respect is one thing—complaining is another."
Despite a past rift over a transfer issue, Suker was still grateful to Bešić.
After all, it was Bešić who brought him out of the Bosnian league and gave him a shot at Dinamo Zagreb—his launchpad to the top.
"The teacher went to your place?"
On the phone, Modrić sounded stunned.
"Yeah! Heard he went from the UK to France, then to Spain—made a whole loop!"
"He came to the UK? How come I didn't know?"
"They say he visited Pranjić. Didn't come to see you?"
"Nope~"
Modrić sounded utterly confused.
Bešić came all the way to the UK but didn't stop by Manchester to see him?
August 29:The Spanish La Liga officially kicked off.
After winning the Spanish Super Cup, Mourinho secured his first title at Real Madrid—laying the foundation for his tenure.
But bigger challenges were right ahead.
The league was on.
2010/2011 La Liga Round 1:Real Madrid would play away at Mallorca.
Last season, Mallorca performed exceptionally well—finishing fifth in La Liga and nearly making it to the Champions League.
However, they quickly ran into financial trouble and had to transfer ownership to British businessman Paul Davidson, who became the club's majority shareholder.
But after the ownership change, they made almost no impact in the transfer market, even selling several core players—yet still planned to compete in La Liga with the same squad.
With the loss of key players, Mallorca's outlook was bleak, and fans were pessimistic.
But that didn't stop the British investor from trying to make money!
European clubs are notoriously xenophobic—especially against non-European capital—believing foreign ownership destroys clubs' futures.
Chelsea is a prime example.
Yet compared to foreign capital, local European capital can be even more ruthless.
Mallorca's squad had weakened, yet they now had to face a supercharged Real Madrid—who had just defeated Barcelona twice in the Super Cup.
A hellish challenge.
Iberostar Stadium, MallorcaA 30,000-seat venue.
In the league opener, a large crowd of Mallorca fans showed up—nervous and unsure.
Truthfully, they had little confidence.
After selling off core players, their team's strength plummeted.
And there was no transparency on where the money went.
Still, Mallorca fans couldn't call for the British owner to "get out," because in a way, he saved them from bankruptcy.
For small clubs, financial crises are often fatal.
So they had to endure.
But as they watched the star-studded Real Madrid warm up in white jerseys, they felt intimidated.
Last season, they had spirit and belief. Real Madrid were in poor shape, so they dared to dream.
Now? They didn't even have the courage to chant.
The stadium was quiet.
There were scattered cheers—but not strong enough, not like a proper La Liga crowd.
Even Suker began to wonder if this was really a top-tier team.
"Financial crisis—it's a death sentence for small clubs!" Srna said as he juggled the ball.
Many small teams had collapsed this way.
In this era of cash-fueled football, the giants hoarded all the resources—leaving scraps for the rest.
UEFA had introduced the Financial Fair Play policy to level the field, but results had been poor.
The giants, with deep pockets, still spent recklessly.
Take Real Madrid—they threw all their season earnings into the transfer market and claimed they still had money for wages and operations.
A bold-faced lie—but impossible to prove.
Big clubs had massive, complex networks. Even if UEFA suspected something, it'd take months to find anything—if ever.
And who would dare suspend Real Madrid?
If Real were suspended, UEFA would lose more than anyone!
Warm-up ended. Back to the dressing room.
Mourinho gave a pre-match talk.
"From now on, we need absolute focus. From today to May, it's a long campaign. No distractions, no laziness, no sloppiness. I said it from day one—our goal is the championship!"
Clap! Clap! Clap!"Now go! Show Spain that the new Real Madrid is here!"
Roar!!!!!!
The Real Madrid players shouted as one and, led by captain Casillas, walked out of the tunnel.
Starting Lineups:
Mallorca (4-3-3):GK: AouateDEF: Senderos, Gonzalez, Ayoze, NunesMID: Martí, Enrich, De GuzmánFWD: Castro, C. Cavenaghi, Nsue
Real Madrid (4-3-3):GK: CasillasDEF: Srna, Ramos, Pepe, MarceloMID: Khedira, Xabi Alonso, DiarraFWD: Kaká, Benzema, Suker
"This is the 2010/2011 La Liga opener: Mallorca hosting Real Madrid!"
"This summer, Mallorca narrowly avoided relegation due to a financial crisis but saw a dip in morale and strength after selling key players."
"According to reports, their preseason performance was not great."
"Meanwhile, Real Madrid strengthened their squad and appointed treble-winner Mourinho as coach. Their Super Cup showing was impressive. What will they bring to this league opener?"
Kick-off:Real Madrid started with the ball.
Suker and Benzema stood at the center circle.
"Wanna go for it?" Benzema asked.
"Hell no!" Suker replied bluntly.
High pressing was powerful, yes—compact, efficient.
But it was exhausting.
Running a full season on high press? Even machines would break down.
Besides, why use it against Mallorca? Save it for the big teams.
Another reason: it would kill off the stars' individual brilliance.
Real Madrid was full of stars—each with something to prove.
High pressing made sense for no-name squads. But Real Madrid had to win beautifully.
People are greedy.
At this level, the players wanted more.
If you made them run like mules all the time, suppressing their flair—it'd backfire.
So even Mourinho didn't demand constant pressing—he feared backlash.
Bottom line: against strong teams, sacrifice flair for teamwork. Fine.
But against weak ones? You have to let the stars shine.
Beep!The whistle blew. Suker kicked off, and Real Madrid immediately slipped into gear.
"Real Madrid starts with the ball. What have they got planned?"
Mallorca played aggressively—trying to disrupt Madrid's formation.
But Real Madrid's individual skill kept them calm under pressure.
They were playing with superiority.
We are Real Madrid.We are the stars.Play against this small club? You think I'll break a sweat?
Xabi Alonso launched a long pass down the spine—piercing the defense.
Benzema leapt slightly, controlled it with his chest, then flicked it backward with his heel.
The ball rolled behind the defense line.
A figure charged in diagonally.
With a quick stutter step, he adjusted and curled it with his right foot.
The ball arced over the keeper's fingertips and into the net.
"GOAL!!!! Just five minutes into the match and Real Madrid scores! The goal goes to number 9…"
Over 2,000 Real Madrid fans erupted:"SUKER!!!!!!!!!!——"