"This German team is no longer the same old Germany. From their last match against Russia, you can clearly see they now have players with excellent footwork. They no longer rely solely on brute strength and rough tactics. This current German squad is in a phase where skill and passion go hand in hand!"
In the tactical meeting room, Van Stoyak, Bilić, and the assistant coaches had gathered together.
Unexpectedly, team captain Srna and Šuker, representing the players, were also present at the meeting.
However, throughout the meeting, it was basically Van Stoyak doing all the talking.
Šuker listened to his analysis and nodded slightly.
The German team was indeed no longer the old "iron men" of the past.
With the rise of technically gifted players like Schweinsteiger and Podolski, their style had started to evolve.
For example, in their match against Russia, they had taken the tactic of pressing and closing down to its peak.
Combined with effective counterattacks and relentless pressure from the wings, they ultimately took down Russia.
This Russian team in the semifinal was no longer the same side as in the Euro qualifiers—their form and performance had clearly improved.And yet, they still lost to Germany.
It showed that after their youth training system reform, Germany was finally reaping the rewards.
"Germany's tactics are similar to ours," Van Stoyak continued, pointing at his notes."They have Podolski and Lahm on the left flank to launch continuous attacks.If the left can't break through, they switch to the right, where Schweinsteiger is even more dangerous.Judging by his recent performance, he's in excellent form and may pose a major threat to our backline.And don't forget their heavy artillery from range—Ballack!"
After finishing, Van Stoyak closed his notebook and looked around.
"Now, we're down to two choices," he said.
First: Go head-to-head with Germany—disrupt their rhythm in midfield with intense pressing and superior technique. Outplay them in their own territory.
Second: Stay defensive—stick to the style that worked in the last match. Rely on counterattacks and Šuker's threat on the wings to tear through their backline.
Bilić and his assistants stayed silent.
They knew that no one would listen to them anymore.
They had effectively been sidelined.
So Van Stoyak didn't even bother looking at them.Instead, he looked at Šuker and Srna.
"Being cautious is fine," Srna said, rubbing his chin, "but our style should be more aggressive.Since the start of the tournament, we've been playing attacking football.Suddenly telling us to park the bus feels unnatural—why not just go toe-to-toe?"
Šuker nodded.
"Same here. During the group stage, Germany played defensively—and we beat them.Now they're itching for revenge, so this is no time to show weakness.We have to confront them at their strongest point."
"Also, when it comes to technical ability and controlling midfield rhythm, Luka (Modrić) clearly has the edge.With me pressing up as well, we can really pressure their midfield."
After hearing their opinions, Van Stoyak smiled.
"Exactly my thinking. If we show fear in front of the Germans, they'll think we're soft—and they'll only get fiercer.That's why we have to fight them head-on."
"So the main strategy is settled. I'll fine-tune the details during training.Now then—"
He looked at Bilić.
Bilić sat in a daze, staring out the window, lost in thought.
"Coach?" Srna prompted softly.
Bilić snapped out of it.
Seeing everyone looking at him, he gave an awkward cough.
"You're finished?" he asked.
The three nodded.
"Then… let's end the meeting."
Šuker and Srna exited the room.
"Bilić looks so pitiful," Srna sighed.
"The moment he stood on the opposite side of us, it was already decided," Šuker replied."This is no time for pity."
"I get it," Srna said, then asked,"But what now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Isn't it awkward? Bilić is still technically the head coach…"
Šuker shrugged.
"So what? He's got no real power anymore.If he wants to stick around, let him.He can't touch us—and if he tries to cut others from the squad, he'll get dealt with before we even have to act."
"We beat Spain, and now the media is saying high pressing is the only way to beat possession-style teams.And Bilić was the one insisting on sitting deep.That's how we sidelined him."
"If he tries anything now, I'll leak everything.He's not stupid.He wants a piece of the glory too.He won't cause trouble."
They arrived at the elevator.
"I have to head down for an interview," Šuker said.
Srna raised an eyebrow.
"Another interview?"
Šuker sighed.
"It's the price of power."
He had used his connections to seize control—Now, he had to pay it back.
Thankfully, those people weren't too greedy and arranged just a single interview.
The interview was with Croatia's national television network.
The host? None other than the beloved commentator Klausić.
"Look who we have here!" Klausić stood up and spread his arms with a huge grin."It's Croatia's hero!"
When Šuker arrived at the hotel's makeshift interview set, the surrounding Croatian staff stood up and applauded.
It was genuine.
After leading Croatia to the Euro final, Šuker's status in the country had soared.
"That match had me so nervous I almost peed myself," Klausić said jokingly."But we played brilliantly in the first half.Your two goals fired up the entire nation."
Before the cameras started rolling, Klausić chatted casually with Šuker.
He had so much to say, but time was limited.
Once everything was ready, Klausić smiled, holding cue cards:
"Let's begin."
This wasn't a normal interview—It was a fan interaction segment.
The program team had received letters from Croatian fans, which they read out to Šuker for a remote dialogue.
"Let's see our first letter.It's from a fan named Brozović in Zagreb!"
"Hello, Šuker. I'm one of your fans. I'm 16 years old and a youth player at Dinamo Zagreb.I'm training hard, following in your footsteps.I dream of one day playing alongside you."
"I'll be moving up to the B team next season—Please give me your blessing!"
The moment Šuker heard the name, he raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Klausić looked at him.
Šuker smiled at the camera.
"Hello, Brozović.I hope you have an outstanding performance with the B team.And I hope you can make it to the first team soon.If one day you're standing beside me,I believe you'll be a huge help to us.Keep fighting!"
"Next up is a fan named Kredivači!"(The Goat)
"Hello, Šuker.I don't know if you still remember me.I really miss those days—driving the team bus and taking you all to matches.I was always full of excitement on those rides, looking forward to your performances,and believing in your victories."
"Time flies.Now, you've become the warriors who fight for Croatia."
"My old pals and I watch every match of yours.We cheer you on and send you our blessings."
"I still cherish those old days.If my body allowed it, I'd still want to drive you to faraway places—to give you my first cheers and encouragement!"
"I'm rambling—please forgive this old man who loves to talk."
"But before I finish, I want to say—Thank you, Šuker."
"Thank you for the goals you scored.""Thank you for the victories you brought us.""Thank you for being Croatia's number 9.""I'll be at the final. See you there!"
Klausić's voice choked slightly.
These heartfelt words from fans were deeply moving.
And it wasn't just Klausić—Šuker, too, felt a warmth in his heart.