!
The goal came so suddenly that neither the fans nor the commentators could react in time.
With just a few passes in the attacking third, they tore through the defense effortlessly.
"Goal!!!"
"Mostar Zrinjski's number 7, Biljar, has broken the deadlock! An unexpected goal! Mostar Zrinjski sliced through Sarajevo Railway Workers' defense with a brilliant attacking sequence!"
"A chipped pass from number 8, Modrić, completely shredded the defense!"
The Mostar Zrinjski fans in the stadium were momentarily stunned. Then, as they realized what had happened, they erupted in cheers of surprise and excitement.
In the coaching box, Van Stea and the staff were cheering and applauding wildly.
Van Stea, in particular, was ecstatic. This goal was proof that his tactical system could succeed.
There was no better news than that.
He had made the right call—Šuker was a vital piece in his vision of total attack and total defense.
Assistant coach Van Dill was also clapping. He smiled and said, "Modrić's chipped pass was brilliant, but Šuker created that whole situation. His first pass freed Modrić, his second pulled the defense to the right, and then he acted as a pivot to set up the key ball. His passing awareness is outstanding!"
Van Dill couldn't help but admire him. Šuker's dribbling was certainly threatening, but this kind of passing pressure was even more effective.
Most importantly, Šuker's constant forward runs had already made the opposing defense nervous, helping open space for others and ultimately leading to the goal.
Modrić might have delivered the assist, but Šuker was the mastermind.
Mostar Zrinjski's lead shifted the momentum decisively in their favor.
With the upper hand, Šuker and the rest of the team began to perform even better.
On the Sarajevo Railway Workers' side, the expressions were grim—especially Boschenochi. His performance had dropped sharply since Šuker came on.
He had been a Croatian international once—not a starter, but a capable player. Yet against a center forward like Šuker, with such an unorthodox style, he was clearly struggling.
When the game restarted, Mostar Zrinjski began to play more fluidly.
Modrić received the ball deep and pushed forward.
Two opposing midfielders moved to press him, but Modrić sent a quick forward pass.
He knew Šuker would be waiting.
Sure enough, Šuker made a horizontal run to receive the pass. As Modrić broke into space, Šuker passed it back and surged forward again.
Freed from pressure, Modrić continued to organize, throwing Sarajevo Railway Workers' defense into disarray.
"This is the destructive power of the 18-year-old Croatian genius Modrić in midfield!"
Even commentator Baso Dakić couldn't contain his excitement.
Previously, Modrić had been restricted, and Mostar Zrinjski lacked an organizing force in the final third.
Now, with Šuker dropping back, not only did he add a playmaking option, but he also helped Modrić escape his markers.
Two playmakers wreaked havoc on the opposition's defense.
Each Mostar Zrinjski attack piled on the pressure.
"Damn it!"
Seeing Šuker drop back again, Boschenochi cursed inwardly and followed.
He had to. If Šuker kept roaming like this, the defense would collapse.
When Modrić passed the ball to Šuker again, Boschenochi shoved him from behind and took the ball away.
It was clearly a foul, but the referee didn't blow the whistle.
Šuker fell face-first, but quickly got up, gritting his teeth and sprinting after the ball.
He had lost possession—he was determined to win it back.
Šuker charged after the counterattack, just as Sarajevo Railway Workers launched a quick break down the wing.
It was one of their best counterattacks of the match—fast and dangerous.
The ball was played into the center, where number 10 Vukocic cut inside, bypassed center-back Mašović, and entered the box.
"Danger for Mostar Zrinjski!!"
It was a sudden shift. Vukocic was one-on-one with the keeper.
Goalkeeper Kiš rushed out in panic, closing the distance quickly.
Vukocic responded with a calm chip over the diving keeper.
It was a lob!
"It's over!"
Mašović felt a chill. Was their hard-earned lead about to vanish?
Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed nearby.
A white figure sprinted into view.
It was Šuker—gritting his teeth, eyes locked on the ball as it sailed through the air. He lowered his head and launched into a desperate run.
Run!!!
Da da da da da da da!!!
Everyone's eyes were on Šuker—and the ball floating above the goal line.
Could he make it?
"He can catch up!"
Šuker stomped hard and pushed off into a second burst of speed.
As he reached the line, he jumped with both legs.
He didn't get much height—but it was just enough.
He twisted his head, trying to direct the ball up and away.
Ding!
The ball smacked the crossbar and bounced back into the box, where full-back Krpić cleared it out of bounds.
Šuker flew straight into the net.
The stadium fell silent.
That desperate sprint across dozens of meters, that last-ditch clearance—it stunned the crowd.
Even the Sarajevo Railway Workers' players stood slack-jawed.
Especially Vukocic, who stared in disbelief.
Why is he here?
He's a center forward, isn't he?
He's supposed to be up front!
He's not supposed to defend!
But Šuker had come back—and made a stunning goal-line clearance.
"ROOOAAARRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!"
It wasn't Šuker shouting—but head coach Van Stea.
He roared at the sky, fists clenched, his face red with excitement, veins bulging.
"Beautiful! Beautiful! F***ing beautiful!"
"Do him!"
"Do him!!"
"DO HIM!!!"
Van Stea punched the air and sprinted along the edge of the technical area.
This—this was the center forward he dreamed of.
This was total attack and total defense.
Lose the ball? Sprint back. Clear it from your own goal line.
At that moment, the stadium exploded with emotion.
Mostar Zrinjski's fans went wild.
They threw up their hands, and the roar of hundreds echoed across the pitch.
A sprint of dozens of meters, burning stamina to save the team at a critical moment.
What better defense was there?
"Šuker!"
"Šuker!"
"Šuker!"
The fans chanted his name spontaneously.
The entire stadium's energy spiked.
Goalkeeper Kiš rushed into the goal and picked up Šuker, who had landed awkwardly and was disoriented.
His face showed a mix of awe, excitement, and gratitude.
Šuker's desperate run had saved a certain goal.
"Well done, kid!"
Kiš ruffled his hair and hugged him tight.
Šuker finally came to his senses, looked at the ball out of bounds, sighed in relief, and muttered:
"Damn, I'm really awesome."
He walked forward like a star, surrounded by teammates.
Everyone came to rub his head in admiration.
Modrić blushed, but even he couldn't contain his emotions.
That clearance lit a fire in him.
"Šuker!"
Modrić reached out his hand.
Šuker stepped up and slapped it.
Pa!
"Cool or what?"
"Cool!"
That missed goal was a massive blow to Sarajevo Railway Workers.
From that point on, the game was firmly under Mostar Zrinjski's control.
Šuker continued to drop back, link play, and keep the attack flowing. Occasionally, he would dart forward through the gaps he'd helped create.
The opposing defense, faced with so many options, grew more and more confused.
In the 86th minute, Modrić passed to Šuker once again.
Šuker had already dropped back, and flicked the ball right with the outside of his foot—then spun around and sprinted down the left.
Boschenochi was caught off guard.
The ball was on the right, but Šuker was on the left. He hesitated—and that was all Šuker needed.
He slipped past smoothly, and by the time Boschenochi reacted, it was too late.
Boaime saw Šuker running and played the ball into the open space.
Šuker pushed the ball forward and accelerated again, but the opposing goalkeeper stayed patient and didn't come out.
Even when Šuker approached the right post, the keeper stayed put.
Šuker came to a sharp stop. Seeing no angle for a shot, he passed diagonally back.
Modrić ran up and slotted it calmly into the lower left corner.
Near the 90th minute, Mostar Zrinjski sealed the win.
That was the final goal of the match.
When the final whistle blew, Mostar Zrinjski had defeated Sarajevo Railway Workers 3–1.
Šuker didn't score, but with an assist, a goal-line clearance, and endless impact, his performance was unforgettable.