Thanks to their outstanding performance in the previous match, the players of Zrinjski Mostar were granted a short vacation.
For these players who compete every week, any vacation is incredibly precious.
Especially for players like Kosovic, who have families, a vacation basically means reuniting with family and taking care of the kids.
But for Suke, the vacation starts with buying shoes.
"Are you ready? We should go!"
Suke swaggered into Skolk's dorm room.
Based on their interaction yesterday, Suk agreed to let Skolk join today's activity.
Of course, the theme of today's activity is buying shoes.
Suke's shoes already had holes, and the studs were worn down, so they didn't have any grip at all.
He could have run faster, and his quick stops and turns were slightly restrained due to equipment issues.
Now that Suke had just received his salary, he was ready to get himself a new pair of boots.
Modric was still following behind Suke, having become his little sidekick.
Modric is very loyal to this only friend in Mostar, sticking to Suke almost every minute.
Skolk saw Suke and Modric, and he quickly put on his coat and said, "Coming! Coming!"
His voice sounded very light.
On the other side of Skolk, Boame was silently packing his luggage with his head down.
Suke glanced at Boame, and the latter also saw Suke, but neither of them had any intention of interacting.
Skolk quickly finished packing.
Skolk was a lean, long-limbed African man with a buzz cut. His thin calves were dressed in a brown cartoon-printed t-shirt and black shorts.
Modrić looked more stylish with a clean black-and-white combo—plain white tee and black athletic pants. It wasn't flashy, but it gave off a neat and tidy vibe.
As for Suke, he was simply in his training gear—training shorts and a training shirt.
Suke looked at Boame one last time before saying, "Let's go."
And with that, the three of them left the dorms, exited the training facility, and followed a winding path down the hill toward town.
On the way, the three chatted about yesterday's match.
"Vukotić's lob shot was so dangerous! If that had gone in, the final score could've been completely different," Skolk said.
Modrić nodded. "If they had equalized, their morale would've surged, and we might've fallen into a tough situation."
He added, "That's why Suke's recovery run was so critical!"
Suke skipped down the stone steps lightly, visibly pleased by the praise.
"Well, I lost the ball up front, so it was my responsibility to chase it down," Suke replied nonchalantly.
Though he played it down, both Skolk and Modrić felt a quiet admiration.
Talk was easy, but in that moment, with fatigue setting in and energy drained, few players could actually make that sprint.
Even if a striker didn't track back, no one would really blame them.
That alone earned respect.
Unlike the others, Suke didn't see it as a big deal.
After all, in the modern football of the future, total football was standard. Strikers tracking back was totally normal.
It just seemed out of place for now, under today's tactical mindset.
Before long, the trio reached town.
Following the Neretva River, they quickly arrived at the town center, near the Zrinjski Stadium.
Most of the town's sports gear shops were located in the alleyways behind the stadium.
The main street housed the team's merchandise store, while the alleys were filled with small sports equipment shops.
As Suke and the others entered the alley, they saw about seven or eight shops lined up.
Suke had never shopped here before, and the other two knew even less about the town.
So, they decided to browse every store, starting with the first one.
A chubby young man greeted them as soon as they walked in.
When he recognized the three of them, he exclaimed, "Suke! Modrić! And…"
"Skolk!" Skolk said awkwardly.
"Nice to meet you, Skolk!"
The chubby youth was a Zrinjski Mostar fan—as were most people in town.
Still, not everyone attended their matches except on big game days.
Suke pointed to the shoe display. "I want to buy boots."
"You've come to the right place," the youth said with a grin. "My boots are the best quality and fairly priced. Oh, and call me Vjekić."
"Nice to meet you, Vjekić," Suke said casually and turned to examine the shoes.
Right away, two classic pairs caught his eye.
One was the Mizuno Wave Cup Legend.
Mizuno boots were a godsend for players with wide feet, offering unmatched comfort.
This specific model was worn by Rivaldo in the last World Cup.
But Suke just admired it. His feet were narrow, and this shoe would leave too much room inside.
Then his eyes landed on another classic—Adidas Predator.
Black and red colorway, red fold-over tongue—a hot design trend at the time.
After the World Cup, this model became a worldwide hit.
"I'll try this one," Suke said, pointing to the Adidas Predator.
Vjekić cheerfully fetched the right size from the back.
Suke tried them on—felt pretty good.
But he wasn't a fan of the fold-over tongue design.
It looked cool, sure, but he felt it interfered with ball control.
He looked around for alternatives but didn't find anything better.
So he settled on the black-and-red Adidas Predators. As for the tongue? He'd just cut it off later.
He bought two pairs—one with short studs, one with long—so he'd be prepared for all weather conditions.
Rainy games needed long studs for traction to avoid slipping.
The two pairs cost him about 100 Marks.
Boots sorted, the trio left the alley behind the stadium, with Vjekić seeing them off warmly.
Since they had set out late, it was already lunchtime.
"I'm buying. Let's grab lunch—I know a great spot," Suke said.
Modrić and Skolk had no objections.
They followed the Neretva River downstream for about ten minutes before arriving at a tavern.
The sign read "Bakic's Tavern."
"Are we drinking?" Skolk asked,
Suke shot him a look. "What are you thinking? It's a restaurant."
Skolk looked around skeptically—it clearly looked like a tavern.
Still, Suke pushed the door open and walked in.
"Bakic! Customers here!"
Soon, Bakic came out from the kitchen, wearing an apron.
When he saw Suke, he laughed and scolded, "You here to freeload again?"
Suke patted his pocket. "Got money!"
Bakic laughed harder.
"What'll you guys want?"
"Three grilled beef, three seafood rice, and three glasses of milk."
Suke pulled out a wad of cash and handed it over.
Bakic playfully smacked him on the head and went back to the kitchen.
"My treat!" Suke said, grinning as he rubbed his head and sat down with the others.
Skolk asked, "Are you a regular here?"
"I used to work here," Suke replied casually. "The boss was my old teammate. You've seen him before—he was the goalkeeper for Mostar Wanderers."
Skolk suddenly understood. No wonder he looked familiar.
Just then, Bakic stuck his head out of the kitchen and called, "Suke, fix the TV for me—it hasn't had sound since you left."
Suke: "Leave it to me."
Skolkwas stunned. "You can fix TVs?"
With a smug grin, Suke climbed up the support pillar like a monkey and sat on the crossbeam.
He turned on the TV—no sound.
He spit on his palm and slapped the side of the TV.
Must need more force.
A voice suddenly rang out from the TV: "The fleet in Niem port will depart tomorrow night. Fishing season is about to begin…"
Satisfied, Suke clapped his hands. "Fixed!"
Skolk stared, jaw dropped.
Just then, the food arrived.
"Here's your beef, seafood rice, and milk," Bakic said as he set the plates down and pulled up a chair.
"Your performance in the last game was a real surprise."
Bakki sighed. "We were all worried about how you'd do. But you really shocked us."
Suke grinned. "Bet I scared Oripe too."
Bakic nodded. "He was shocked, alright. But more than that, he felt guilty. You clearly have the skills for the top league, and we held you back."
"Don't say that," Suke said. "Back then, if you hadn't taken me, no other team would've."
"Helping each other out."
Bakic smiled and nodded. "Now you're in the top league. We hope to see you on an even bigger stage someday."
"Like the Champions League?"
Bakic laughed. "If you make it to one of the top five leagues, that's already a blessing from Lady Luck."
Suke just smiled and said nothing.
"I'll head back to the kitchen. Enjoy your food."
When Bakic returned later, Suke and the others were gone.
All that remained were six empty plates.
Under one of them was a stack of Marks—exactly 100.
Scrawled on a note: "I will play in the Champions League! I swear!"
Bakic shook his head and smiled.
"What a stubborn, grudge-holding mule."