Suker kept glancing back to check on Vukojević's position—every time they played Lyon, that guy would lock onto him like a shadow.
Vukojević had an excellent sense of timing in his challenges. He wasn't going for full-body duels all the time, but at the moment Suker received the ball, passed, or shot, he would push or bump him—always right then.
Those kinds of duels were the most irritating, so Suker knew he had to create some separation.
While observing, Suker drifted toward the left flank.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vukojević still right next to him.
The moment Diarra played the ball, Suker suddenly feinted toward the center.
As expected, Vukojević took a step sideways to cover. Suker immediately twisted his body and cut in the opposite direction—sprinting at high speed down the wing!
"Watch Suker!"
Vukojević couldn't recover in time and yelled to his teammates.
Lyon's right-back Réveillère moved in to block Suker, but Suker didn't even think about slowing down.
He cut diagonally into the box, racing toward the edge of the six-yard box.
At the same time, the ball reached Benzema's feet.
Benzema turned and slipped the ball to Suker—but by then, Suker was already surrounded by Cris and Réveillère.
The two defenders closed in, with Cris using his body to shove Suker aside and shield the ball before clearing it away.
"Switch sides, damn it!"
Suker was forced off the pitch at the byline. After regaining his balance, he shouted at Benzema.
Benzema looked a bit confused.
At Real Madrid, the tactic was simple: give the ball to Suker.
But this time, Suker had drawn defenders to free up his teammates—Benzema misread it and thought he was going for a direct run instead.
On the sideline, Higuaín slapped his thigh in frustration.
"Damn it! I was wide open over here—why didn't he pass to me?"
"F*cking Benzema's fault again."
Suker grinned bitterly.
Benzema still hadn't fully matured. He wasn't yet a reliable pivot or outlet up front.
And with Suker making unpredictable runs, it made link-up play even harder.
"Take it easy!"
Suker clapped his hands and shouted, then jogged back with the rest of the team.
This was Real Madrid's current dilemma.
Against minnows, they could rely on Suker's brute strength to crush opponents.
But now in the Champions League knockout rounds, there were no "weak" teams. Even the weakest still posed a real challenge.
So opponents had put a lot of work into defending against Suker.
As Suker dropped back, Lyon immediately launched a counterattack.
Their tempo was lightning-fast—Pjanić played a through ball to striker López, who also dropped back to receive and then nudged it right to Govou.
Govou accelerated, gaining half a step on Marcelo. He suddenly lifted his leg as if to shoot, baiting Marcelo into sticking out a foot to block.
But in the next second, Govou cut inside and passed to the onrushing Pjanić.
Pjanić immediately played it to the left side of Real Madrid's penalty area.
There, Delgado met the ball with a powerful strike.
Boom!
Casillas dived with all his might and caught the ball cleanly beneath him.
"Brilliant save!"
Suker shouted and turned to sprint forward.
"Pass! Pass!"
Suker called for the ball.
Casillas quickly got to his feet and hurled the ball out, then blasted it deep into Lyon's half with a huge kick.
Suker sprinted at full speed to the drop point.
But Casillas had put too much on it—the ball landed too close to Lyon's box.
Goalkeeper Lloris judged the flight perfectly and ran out of the area to head the ball to a teammate.
Another missed counterattack for Real Madrid.
Suker stopped and took a few deep breaths.
In future matches, long goal kicks to forwards would become commonplace—but it required excellent footwork from the keeper.
Back then, goalkeepers focused more on shot-stopping than on being all-around players.
"We've got to work on that," Suker muttered, shaking his head.
This was Real Madrid's lack of cohesion on full display.
So far, only Xabi Alonso could reliably link up with Suker.
Benzema and Higuaín were serviceable.
Raúl was decent too.
But Raúl mostly sat on the bench nowadays.
Strangely enough, the player Suker connected best with was actually fullback Marcelo.
That spoke volumes about Pellegrini's failure to build chemistry between Suker and the rest of the squad.
Sure, the "cannonball tactic" looked intimidating—
But it had a more awkward nickname:
"The bully-ball tactic."
It worked great against weaker teams—they'd win, and often win big.
But against stronger sides, all the flaws became apparent.
Just like now: the lack of coordination was glaring. Suker wasn't getting support up front.
Lyon's defensive focus on Suker was overwhelming.
If Suker wanted the ball, he had to drop deep.
But doing so meant longer runs toward goal, giving Lyon more time to react.
On the touchline, Pellegrini chewed his fingernails, frowning deeply.
A half-finished product was still a half-finished product.
The system was too loose, not cohesive enough.
But right now, Pellegrini had no other choice.
"Suker!"
Xabi Alonso looked at him.
Just as he was about to pass, López rushed in to press from behind.
Alonso had no choice but to play it sideways.
Diarra received it in the middle and lifted his head toward Suker.
But Suker had defenders on either side—no passing lane at all.
If he passed there, Suker would immediately be swarmed and risk losing the ball.
So Diarra rotated the ball again.
Suker moved toward the right wing.
Same problem.
"Suker's been completely marked out!"
Spanish commentator González frowned.
This was bad news. Lyon had zeroed in on Real Madrid's soft spot and were defending Suker ruthlessly.
Yes, Suker was strong.
But even the strongest can't do anything if they don't get the ball.
"Pellegrini needs to figure something out!"
On the sideline, Pellegrini screamed: "Higuaín! Take him on! You need to attack!"
Higuaín winced at the yelling.
He wanted to yell back: You think I don't know that?!
But easier said than done.
Suker made dribbling look effortless, but he was a freak of nature.
Higuaín wasn't at that level. Plus, whenever he made a run, Lyon's left-back Cissokho and Pjanić would double up on him.
Pjanić also tracked Suker's position and blocked off passing lanes.
And Vukojević was always there for extra pressure. There was simply no angle to pass to Suker.
A cross from the byline was the best option—but Cissokho read that too and blocked it.
Cutting inside? Pjanić had that covered.
"So annoying!"
Bang!
Higuaín blasted the ball off Pjanić's legs and out for a corner—at least that gave them a set piece.
Suker jogged over slowly. He turned and said, "You guys came in with targeted tactics, didn't you?"
Vukojević smiled and shrugged.
Suker glanced down at him.
Vukojević barked, "Don't even think about tackling me!"
Suker smirked and jogged to the top of the box for the corner kick.
At the same time, his mind was racing—how to shake off the defenders?
Lyon had built their entire game plan around stopping Suker.
Cut him off, and Real Madrid's attack became clueless.
This was a double-defensive-midfield tactic to isolate Suker.
A tactic first used by Ancelotti—now commonly used to contain elite dribblers like Suker or Messi.
Atlético Madrid had used it too, but their midfielders weren't strong enough to make it effective.
Lyon, on the other hand, had Vukojević as the anchor, with Pjanić and Toulalan supporting. There were always two men near Suker.
They took the base tactic and elevated the intensity.
"Boot it long! Boot it long!" Pellegrini shouted from the sidelines. "Let Suker chase it—kick it long!"
He kept yelling.
But the more he shouted, the more chaotic Madrid played.
Then, in the 31st minute, Pjanić pulled off a brilliant turn and launched a counterattack—he threaded the ball to Govou.
Govou didn't stop. One-touch cross.
The ball curled into the box—López sprinted in and slid to connect.
Goal!
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!
"Ohhhhhh what a counterattack! López scores in the 31st minute with a brilliant sliding finish, capitalizing on Casillas's charge!"
"Lyon leads 1–0 at home. Is the curse happening again?"
"After all their squad upgrades, is Real Madrid going to fall in the Round of 16 again?"
"HAHAHAHA! Lyon's boys are on fire!"
The Gerland Stadium erupted in celebration.
That goal boosted their confidence even more.
In contrast, Real Madrid fans buried their faces in their hands—disappointment and frustration written all over them.
This goal put them in a tight spot.
"Defend!"
Suker shouted as he retreated.
Everything had gone off the rails.
Lyon would certainly press harder before halftime—and Madrid's defensive issues were still dangerous.
The rest of the half saw Real Madrid drop deep into full defensive mode.
At this point, defense was the only way to hold out until halftime for tactical adjustments.
Lyon continued their aggressive assault.
In the 38th minute, Pjanić unleashed a rocket that forced a diving save from Casillas.
Moments later, Ramos cleared the ball from a crowded box.
At 41 minutes, Lyon surged again—piling men into the box during aerial battles.
Suker spotted a chance for a counterattack in the empty backfield—but Vukojević brought him down with a tactical foul.
Suker got up slowly, annoyed.
Vukojević took a yellow card, but successfully killed the counter.
Lyon finally eased off in the last four minutes, likely saving energy for the second half.
Halftime came quickly.
The players headed to the locker rooms.
"In the second half, we need to focus on solid defense—more players involved. The wingers need to track back too," Pellegrini said.
Then he looked at Suker.
"In the second half, you don't retreat. Stay up front and wait for the ball."
Suker shrugged.
He knew what this meant—Madrid was reverting to their old tactic.
When Plan A failed, they always defaulted to "dog chasing a frisbee."
He felt helpless.
It had been so long since he scored from a well-orchestrated team move.
But that was the situation. There was no other option.
Madrid's system wasn't fully built and had holes—so all they could do was use the simplest tactic to hide the problems and unleash Suker's power.
It was the only way forward.
"Wait for my pass!"
Xabi Alonso said seriously.
For now, only the connection between him and Suker was reliable.
Suker nodded.
"Lyon's targeted tactics were spot on. Coach Pierre clearly exploited Real Madrid's weaknesses. Even though it's just a one-goal lead, Lyon has had the upper hand in play."
At that moment, the French commentator's tone shifted.
"But we must stay cautious—after all, this is Suker we're talking about. He must not be allowed to get the ball."
The French commentator knew exactly how dangerous Suker was.
In the entire first half, Suker didn't even get one shot. Most of his touches came when he dropped deep, not from direct attacks.
Lyon had cut off Madrid's supply lines to Suker—indirectly neutralizing him.
They knew they couldn't stop Suker himself, so they stopped the passes to him.
Without ammo, even the best striker can't fire.
Clearly, Coach Pierre understood Suker's threat—and the French commentator was eager to see how the second half would unfold.
As long as they kept Suker quiet, Lyon could win.
Meanwhile, Spanish commentator González said sternly:
"Pellegrini has to make changes—keep it simple. Madrid's squad isn't cohesive, they can't play beautiful football, so get ugly. Win ugly. That's fine—as long as we get through!"
González gritted his teeth: "We can't fall in the Round of 16 again!"
Real Madrid was supposed to represent La Liga's pride, but their poor European record embarrassed fans and professionals alike.
If they kept this up, it was hard to see when they'd ever rise again.
As the two commentators analyzed, the players returned to the pitch.
The moment Suker stepped out of the tunnel, Lyon fans jeered him relentlessly.
"Where is Suker? I can't see him! Hahaha!"
"Suker is dead silent! So much for a world-class striker!"
"A 100-million flop? Well, Madrid paid for it!"
Hearing this, Suker flipped them the middle finger.
"Eat sh*t."
The Lyon fans screamed louder in response.
Suker ignored them and stepped onto the field.
He did a little jump, shaking out his limbs—his eyes burning with determination.
Vukojević followed behind and heard the same jeers.
But he felt nervous.
Suker was the kind who thrived under pressure.
There had been so many comebacks from Suker already. And they were only up by one.
Lyon fans were too confident.
He knew he had to warn his teammates.
"Keep a close eye on Suker!" Vukojević said seriously. "He's going to be even more dangerous in the second half."
"Relax," Pjanić laughed. "We worked great in the first half, and we'll be more cautious now. We'll shut him down."
"You're too optimistic," Vukojević frowned.
They didn't understand Suker.
Pjanić shrugged. He thought Vukojević was overthinking.
After all, Suker hadn't done much in the first half. Surely the second half would be the same.
The players took their positions—switching sides for the second half.
The camera panned to the crowd.
As jeers of "Where's Suker?" rang out again, commentator González clenched his fist.
Suker—show them who you are!
Now on the pitch, Suker stayed forward.
In the first half, he dropped deep to help build up play—but lost his attacking threat in doing so.
Now in the second half, he would plant himself in Lyon's back line.
WHISTLE!
The second half kicked off.
Lyon began with the ball and passed it around the back.
Suker jogged up, observed their setup, then saw they were trying to slow the tempo.
Gritting his teeth, he charged forward to press.
He wasn't going to let them get comfortable.
"Push up! Force them to play it!"
Suker called Benzema and Higuaín forward to press with him.
The three of them pressed Lyon's half together, not allowing the French side to settle.
Seeing the pressure, Lyon moved the ball to the wings.
"Send it to me!"
Govou shouted. He wanted more offense.
A one-goal lead wasn't safe. They could afford to attack early in the half and apply pressure.
Seeing Lyon push forward again, Madrid dropped into a tight defensive shape—ready to absorb the attack.