"Finally back!"
Suker stretched as he returned to his dormitory.
After sleeping the entire train ride, he wasn't all that tired anymore.
He glanced around — after being unattended for two months, the dorm was covered in dust.
Whoosh!
Suker opened the window, letting the frigid winter air flow in to freshen up the room.
Grabbing a rag and a basin, he went to the water room to fetch some water and began vigorously cleaning.
He wiped down the dusty corners and iron bed frames, tossed the pillowcases and duvet covers into the laundry, and replaced them with fresh ones.
Lastly, he mopped the floor. The whole place looked spotless.
Looking at the tidy dorm, Suker felt mentally refreshed.
"Suker?"
At that moment, a voice came from the door. Suker turned around and saw Skolk standing outside. The guy looked excited. "You're finally back!"
Around noon, the two of them went to the town for lunch.
Since it was the winter break, the cafeteria was closed, so their only option was to eat in town.
They returned to their usual spot — Bakic's restaurant.
"Dinamo Zagreb got beaten that badly?"
Skolk was shocked as Suker shared his experience watching a match in Zagreb.
In his mind, Dinamo Zagreb was the only true giant in the Croatian league — the undisputed dominator.
But this season had apparently been a disaster. That Mostečić brother really stirred up some crap!
"What if we played against them?" Skolk asked curiously.
Suker thought for a moment. "I don't know what Dinamo looks like in their prime, but if it was the version I saw, I'd say we'd have a shot at winning."
From what he saw, if Zrinjski Mostar played with their full strength against Lokomotiva Zagreb, they might not be without a chance.
Although the league rankings between the two countries showed a clear gap, Zrinjski had already surpassed the general level of the Bosnian Premier League. So winning wasn't impossible.
Skolk was visibly encouraged by Suker's assessment.
But Suker had only said half of what was on his mind.
He was talking about the average level of the Croatian league — not its top-tier teams.
The Croatian league was definitely more intense than Bosnia's. That was clear from just that one match.
Each position, player condition — none of it could be matched by Bosnian teams.
The pace, discipline, tactical flexibility — everything was more defined.
The biggest difference? Attack and defense transitions.
Faster. Stronger.
Even Suker himself wasn't sure he could quickly adapt to that intensity, let alone his teammates.
So, if Dinamo had been in top form, they'd have completely dominated Zrinjski Mostar.
After lunch, the two returned to the dorms.
Suker changed into his training gear and headed to the pitch.
Although it was still officially the holiday break, there were a few players putting in extra practice.
When he arrived, Suker saw Kosovic and Boame already training.
"You guys aren't taking a break?" he shouted from outside the fence.
Kosovic turned to look. Suker immediately raised his hand, "Captain, good afternoon!"
Once inside, Kosovic smiled, "I just recovered from my injury, so I wanted to start some rehab training. Hopefully, I can jump straight into team training when the second half of the season starts."
He felt that, at his age, his recovery was slower.
But hey — slow birds fly early, right?
He still wanted to play a few more seasons, and lately, he hadn't felt his form slipping too much.
And with Suker's arrival, he'd been exploring new play styles to broaden his skill set and prolong his career.
As for Boame — his reason was much simpler.
Now that Oliveira was gone, he felt freed up. Though Suker had claimed the wing spot, Boame was still preparing for the future.
He wasn't content being a backup forever.
If he couldn't compete with Suker, then he'd challenge Biliar.
"Could you help me practice front-line passing and movement?"
Boame asked Suker nervously.
Suker was slightly surprised,
Boame looked a little discouraged.
In the end, it was Kosovic who couldn't stand to watch any longer.
"Suker, let's all train together. If Biliar gets injured, we'll still need to be able to coordinate."
Coming from the veteran, Suker finally nodded, albeit reluctantly.
They set up some dummy mannequins on the pitch. Suker pointed at them and said:
"You go around these dummies to receive my pass. Timing the run is up to you. Then either thread it between the two middle dummies or chip it for the captain to head."
"Got it!" Boame nodded immediately.
"Let's begin," Suker said.
He kicked the ball — and Boame just stood there.
"What are you waiting for? Go get the ball!" Suker barked.
Boame rushed to fetch it.
The next time Suker passed, Boame sprinted and made a nice cross.
Just when Boame was feeling pleased with himself, Suker's criticism came crashing in.
"Too slow! You think those defenders are dummies? They run, chase back, and try to disrupt you. Faster! Sprint when you start your run!"
Thump!
Another pass.
"Are you taking a walk? I said SPRINT!"
Thump!
Pass.
"Adjust your footing after the stop! Use little steps. Decide — are you shooting or passing? Again!"
Suker was harsh. Boame stayed silent and just kept running.
Kosopvihgave Suker a strange look.
This guy was clearly adding extra power to his passes, making it really tough for Boame. Was he holding a grudge?
Meanwhile, Suker watched the exhausted Boame and finally felt a bit satisfied.
"Alright, from the next pass on, I can't guarantee accuracy."
Then he ran to the left midfield near the touchline.
Boame moved to the right side.
They were far apart.
Suker placed the ball at his feet, took a breath, stepped back, ran up, and smacked it with the outside of his boot.
The ball whooshed up into the sky, heading toward the goal area.
Boame: "???"
That's your inaccurate pass? Dude, that's way off.
Suker scratched his head awkwardly.
"Again!"
Thump!Thump!Thump!Thump!Thump!
"Got it!"
He cheered as the ball curved tightly along the turf in a long arc — landing perfectly at Boame's feet.
One success out of six tries, and it was accurate.
He needed more trial and error to reduce the failure rate.
Thump!Thump!Thump!Thump!
"Damn it!" Kosovic couldn't take it anymore. He laughed and cursed, "You're just making us fetch balls for you, huh? What kind of passes are these? One decent pass in five or six attempts — are you training or we?"
Suker scratched his cheek. "I'll go first, then it's your turn."
Kosovic: "Nope — we train first, then we'll help you. If it's not working, you're on your own."
Suker nodded immediately.
After all, someone had to pass the ball back to him for this type of pass practice — it wasn't like he could do it all solo.
The three trained hard all afternoon.
First, basic pass-and-run to build chemistry.
Then, linking with overlapping runs.
Finally, continuous overlapping plays, with real-time ball movement.
The drills became more complex.
At first, Boame struggled. But he had talent — soon he adapted.
By the end of the session, their coordination looked pretty sharp.
"My turn now, right?"
Suker looked at Kosovic.
The captain glanced at the darkening sky. "Tomorrow. It's getting late."
Suker wasn't having it.
Why should he be the free training dummy?
Suddenly, Boame spoke up: "I'll pass for you. I'll help you practice."
Suker was surprised. "You? Practice with me?"
Boame nodded. "I'll always help you with this kind of pass. But I have one condition — let me be the one receiving it."
Suker instantly agreed.
No problem at all! He'd be happy just to have someone fetching balls.
Kosovic waved goodbye. "Don't train too late, guys."
They casually waved back and got right to work again.
They trained late into the night.
Suker kept trying his curving ground passes, and Boame just kept chasing them.
No matter how off-target Suker was, Boame chased them all — unless it was just way too far off.
Suker noticed how exhausted Boame looked — breathing heavily, drenched in sweat.
"Take a break. We'll continue tomorrow."
Wiping sweat off his brow, even Suker felt worn out. Boame must be completely spent.
As the guy walked over clutching the ball, Suker asked, "Why do you insist on chasing those passes?"
"It's receiving, not chasing," Boame corrected him.
Suker shrugged. "Same thing! So… why?"
Boame paused, then said, "Your curving pass has serious penetration. If I can learn to connect with it, I'll be more valuable to the team."
"No one wants to fetch balls — me included."
"But if I want to be a starter, I have to build chemistry with you."
"Figuring out how to maximize your passing ability — that's the task the coaching staff has set. And it's open to all our strikers. It's my only chance to earn a starting spot."
Suker looked at Boame in surprise.
This guy… isn't that doom and gloom after all!