Real Madrid's frontline was full of proven superstars.
Once they clicked, they could go toe-to-toe with anyone.
January 6th, La Liga Round 18.
Real Madrid traveled to face Villarreal away.
Raúl started this match.
Unfortunately, that only confirmed what some media outlets had been saying.
As a shadow striker, Raúl needed a powerful forward partner—a real target man.
But in this match, Su Hang's support for Raúl was minimal.
And when Raúl couldn't give back, Su Hang also lost the ability to cover for him.
This was rare in the past.
Even when Real Madrid lined up with two strikers, or even a lone striker,
Zidane or Figo—sometimes both—would push up to help.
This time, it was often just the two of them up front.
0–0.
Real Madrid's first league game of the second half got off to a poor start.
Their fifth-place spot in the table slipped again—down to sixth.
Meanwhile, Barcelona surged forward, battling Valencia fiercely for the top spot.
...
After the match, Su Hang was left with doubts.
Things weren't unfolding as he had imagined.
"Hey kid, fancy a drink?" Zidane invited.
Su Hang went to Zidane's place.
After a few rounds, Zidane finally spoke.
"You know, from the very first moment I saw you, I knew exactly what kind of person you were."
Su Hang looked at him.
"You're insecure," Zidane said bluntly.
If anyone else had heard that, they would have disagreed immediately.
To everyone else, Su Hang seemed full of confidence—
borderline arrogant, even.
Insecure?
Impossible, right?
But Su Hang's heart skipped.
He… wasn't all that confident.
Especially when it came to football.
Because he saw the gap between himself and the true superstars clearer than anyone.
Some said he was the seventh superstar of the Galácticos, the heir to Owen.
But only he knew his real level: just an average striker for a mid-table side in the top five leagues.
At Real Madrid, he wasn't enough.
"I was insecure at your age too," Zidane smiled. "Everyone is. Let me think… when did I stop? Last year? Or this year?"
"Anyway, it wasn't until I got older that I stopped feeling inferior."
"Because I finally realized how damn amazing Zidane was at nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two… every single year of my life before now!"
"My only regret is that when I stood on top of the world, I was too insecure to shout out loud: 'I am the king of the world!'"
"And when I finally had the courage, I wasn't anymore."
"So don't let your fears define you."
"Sure, your dribbling isn't at my level, or Ronaldo's, or Figo's. It might never be. You're not Robinho or Cassano either."
"But your dribbling can still beat defenders!"
"Did you even try once today?"
"What about your knee-flick dribble?"
"Your stepovers?"
"Your Marseille turn?"
"You're a forward who can pull off an elastico!"
Su Hang wasn't stupid.
He saw the problem.
Overthinking!
By focusing too much on fitting into the 4-3-1-2 system, he had killed his imagination—his courage.
This formation created far fewer chances than the old 4-1-3-2 or 4-3-3.
Instead of five attackers, now there were only three.
Because chances were scarce, he became afraid to waste them.
So he turned predictable.
Predictable meant harmless.
Even world-class forwards like Ronaldo, Henry, and Shevchenko lose their edge when they become predictable.
That's why so many young forwards can deliver shock moments—because they dare.
And "dare" was exactly what this Real Madrid frontline lacked.
Raúl was already set in his ways.
Cassano hadn't settled in yet.
Ronaldo was battling injuries.
Only Su Hang could "dare."
Zidane would create chances, but someone had to take them.
"I know what I need to do!" Su Hang downed his drink in one gulp.
He couldn't afford to play timidly—just safe passes, too scared to try.
Even if it was just a one percent chance, taking the shot itself was the opportunity.
...
January 11th.
The Copa del Rey Round of 16, second leg.
Real Madrid hosted Athletic Bilbao at the Bernabéu.
Only a little over 50,000 tickets were sold.
A clear sign that some fans were disappointed.
The media didn't hold back either.
Marca: "Real Madrid lack reliable attackers right now. Athletic Bilbao might just pull off a comeback!"
Sport: "The Merengues must be desperately missing a healthy Ronaldo! When the tide goes out, that's when you see who's been swimming naked!"
Mundo Deportivo: "Su Hang is the biggest fraud at Real Madrid! He truly is the next Raúl—just like Raúl, without the captain's armband, he'd never be a superstar!"
AS: "With Su Hang out of form, maybe Simon should try pairing Raúl with Cassano?"
In this climate, the only one still backing Su Hang was probably his rumored girlfriend, Clara.
Clara's Column: "Real Madrid's tactical changes in the second half of the season are a big adjustment. Su Hang is still young, and young players don't adapt to new systems as quickly as veterans."
"His slump is understandable."
"But I believe Su Hang is a genuine top-class player."
"He will lead Real Madrid through these tough times."
"Don't forget, he was the captain who led the miraculous comeback against Barcelona to win the title!"
"As long as he's on the pitch, he deserves our trust!"
Beep!
The referee's whistle blew, and the match began.
Real Madrid's starting lineup, however, was underwhelming:
Su Hang, Cassano
Zidane
Baptista, Garcia, Beckham
Roberto Carlos, Helguera, Ramos, Cicinho
Casillas
=
Big names like Raúl and Figo sat on the bench.
"Push up! Press higher! We've got three holding midfielders!" Simon barked from the sidelines.
Right-back Cicinho surged forward.
The two fullbacks and three defensive midfielders alternated in their advance and retreat, but their coordination wasn't smooth yet.
That was one of the main reasons for Real Madrid's lackluster attack.
The three-man midfield was designed to free the fullbacks.
And with Brazilian wingbacks Roberto Carlos and Cicinho—both stronger in attack than defense—it was only a matter of time before they shone.
But Athletic Bilbao's defense was tough, and Cicinho couldn't break through.