Lately, Suker's main focus had been eating and training.
Ever since the match against Sarajevo Railway Workers, he had been visibly more anxious, increasing his training load significantly.
Not only was he training with the team, but he was also putting in extra practice on his own.
Of course, he couldn't touch strength training yet—he needed to ensure proper growth.
Suker had a big appetite, which meant he was digesting and absorbing well.
But the problem was—despite eating so much, why wasn't he growing taller?
It had been three weeks since his last growth spurt, and his height had been stuck at 161 cm with no signs of increase.
Fitness coach Hartbach told him to be patient. Growth isn't something that happens all at once—it occurs in stages.
For boys, the growth period centers around puberty.
Usually, it fluctuates around age 18, give or take two years.
Suker was currently 17, so he still had up to three years of potential growth before his growth plates closed.
Plus, given Suker had experienced long-term malnutrition before, he was advised not to be too anxious.
Suker knew Hartbach was trying to comfort him, but he was still impatient.
Suker's height anxiety was so intense it even rubbed off on Modrić.
At the moment, Modrić wasn't very tall either.
In fact, Suker and Modrić were the shortest players on the team.
Suker stood at 161 cm.
Modrić at 167 cm.
What really stung was that Suker had grown a full 10 cm—from Modrić's neck level to nearly eye level.
That meant at least he was developing, right?
But Modrić hadn't budged in height.
"Does drinking milk help you grow taller?"
Watching Suker finish a glass of milk in one gulp, Modrić asked.
Suker replied firmly, "Yes! Definitely!"
Modrić nodded and downed his own glass of milk.
In early November, Mostar experienced its first snow of the season.
Starting from early morning, soft white snowflakes drifted down, finally stopping around noon.
Within a morning, the entire town was blanketed in white, and even the trees on the nearby hills were dusted with a pale sheen.
The Neretva River remained rushing and turbulent, sweeping away snowflakes and bringing the mountain chill into town.
As soon as he left the city and entered Mostar's surrounding mountains, Bosnian Sports reporter Bastecchi put on a heavy coat. Even so, the wind still cut through the seams, making him feel uncomfortably cold.
"What a desolate place," he muttered.
The once picturesque town looked lonely in winter. Streets were almost empty, with only a few sanitation workers and passing cars, which made the place feel even more deserted.
Bastecchi was here to film a feature on the "Mostar Twin Stars." Since their victory over Sarajevo, they had become the center of attention, and after beating the Sarajevo Railway Workers, Bosnian Football finally moved forward with plans for a special interview.
"Let's go. We're on a tight schedule," Bastecchi told his assistant, eager to finish and return to his warm home.
Upon arrival at Zrinjski Mostar, the club staff led them straight to the training ground.
The club's financial situation wasn't great, so the facilities looked a bit worn. But the field was neatly cleared of snow.
The two young players he was about to interview were out on the field doing specialized training.
"Do you want me to call them over?" asked the staff.
Bastecchi waved him off. "No need. Let's start from here."
He figured the footage would give the program a nice inspirational touch.
He pulled out a small camera, tucked it under his coat, and began filming.
Sunlight, snow, sweat, clouds of visible breath—rising mist.
Under this scene, a sense of positivity and hard work radiated. Bastecchi adjusted his angle to enhance the bright atmosphere.
Suddenly, Suker, who had been juggling the ball, gently flicked it up and launched a powerful volley.
The ball shot straight toward Bastecchi.
"Ah!" he shouted in panic, landing hard on the ground.
Luckily, the ball hit the barrier fence and dropped. Otherwise, taking that shot to the face would've really hurt.
"Hey! What the hell are you filming?" Suker shouted.
He stormed over, clearly angry. In the Bosnian league, spying was common, but he'd never seen someone so brazenly filming right on the training ground.
This guy had some nerve!
"Speak! Which club sent you?" Suker demanded.
His tone was serious, but with his baby-faced round cheeks, he didn't look threatening at all.
Just then, the staff walked over and quickly explained, "They're reporters from Bosnian Sports, here for the interview."
"Interview?" Suker blinked.
Only then did he remember Coach Van Stoyak mentioning something about an interview.
Bastecchi stood up, dusted himself off, checked the camera, and seeing it still worked, introduced himself: "I'm Bastecchi, a reporter from Bosnian Sports. I scheduled the interview for this afternoon."
Suker turned to Modrić.
"Did anyone tell us about this interview?"
Modrić shook his head.
Suker looked at the staff again, who explained, "It was originally scheduled for tomorrow, but they showed up early."
He then asked Bastecchi, "Start now?"
Bastecchi nodded. "Let's do it this afternoon."
After coordinating, they moved into the locker room—there weren't any better interview spots anyway.
Bastecchi set up the camera, aiming it at Suker and Modrić, who sat side by side.
Modrić looked uneasy in front of the camera. Suker, meanwhile, kept poking around, full of curiosity.
"Are we going to be on TV?"
"Which channel?"
"Can we see it afterward?"
Bastecchi was a bit annoyed. Suker was noisy and kept asking questions, while the quiet Modrić earned his favor.
"Be quiet, we're about to start," Bastecchi told Suker.
Suker pouted.
Then, with a gentler tone, Bastecchi said to Modrić, "Let's start with you, okay?"
Modrić nodded slightly.
"What do I do?"
"Just introduce yourself."
Modrić sat upright, looked straight at the camera, and said, "Hello everyone, my name is Luka Modrić. I'm from Croatia and currently play for Zrinjski Mostar Football Club."
Then Bastecchi turned to Suker.
Suker: "I'm Suker—Suker as in Davor Suker. I'm a center forward, also from Croatia!"
Bastecchi took out a cue card and read,"As the 'Mostar Twin Stars,' your chemistry has led your team to victory again and again. Where did you two first meet?"
Suker scratched his cheek awkwardly.
Modrić smiled.
Together, they said, "On the Old Bridge!"
Bastecchi was surprised. "A chance encounter?"
Modrić recalled the moment Suker dived into the river and smiled even brighter.
Suker coughed lightly and nudged Modrić's chair leg.
Bastecchi caught it all and chuckled, "Sounds like something interesting happened."
"Yes, very interesting!" Modrić replied, using hand gestures to illustrate the scene.
Suker looked thoroughly embarrassed.
Bastecchi, on the other hand, was shocked to learn this lively boy had such a tough past.
"How did you get through that difficult time?" he asked.
Suker sighed and waved his hand, saying, "First off, I don't think it was that bad. I was playing the game I love, getting closer to my goals bit by bit. Sure, I went hungry a few times, but compared to kids who lost their lives in the war, I'm already very lucky. I have the right to chase dreams and shape my future."
Bastecchi: "You're now one of the most promising players in the Bosnian Premier League. Your performance often decides your team's fate. Do you feel proud of your achievements?"
"This is just the beginning," Suker said loudly. "I'm not proud or satisfied. I still have many shortcomings, many dreams yet to fulfill. That's why I need to work even harder."
Bastecchi nodded. "Alright, so what's your goal?"
"Champions League," Suker answered decisively.
"To participate in it?"
Suker shook his head. "To win the Champions League!"
Bastecchi: "…"
He was stunned by Suker's unrealistic ambition.
This kid, still playing in the Bosnian league, was dreaming about winning the Champions League?
That stage is every footballer's dream, but how many actually achieve it?
He wasn't asking for dreams, he asked for goals—not a fantasy!
Turning to Modrić, he asked, "What about you?"
Modrić paused for a moment, then said, "To bring Croatia its first World Cup."
Bastecchi: "…"
One more unrealistic than the other!