2003 was a special year.
So many stories were brewing in that year.
In Portugal, at Sporting Lisbon, a player named Cristiano Ronaldo was transferred to Manchester United for £12.24 million, officially joining Old Trafford.
Porto won the Portuguese league, and the Special One José Mourinho showed his fangs for the first time, pushing his ambitions across all of Europe.
In Spain, in the region of Catalonia, a genius named Lionel Messi made his debut with Barcelona's first team, starting his professional career.
The La Masia academy product Cesc Fàbregas joined Arsenal at just 16 years old.
At Atlético Madrid, El Niño Fernando Torres scored 13 goals in a single season, helping his team return to La Liga.
Brazilian prodigy Kaká transferred to AC Milan for €8.5 million, beginning his red-and-black journey on the Apennine Peninsula.
And in that same year, Suker and Modrić set off for Zagreb.
"You're all leaving!"
Inside the dormitory of Zrinjski Mostar, Skolk watched as Suker and Modrić packed their things, ready to depart.
He felt a mix of loss, disappointment, and a tinge of secret joy.
He was saddened that his two close friends were moving further away from him.But also secretly relieved, because their departure would ease some of the pressure on him in the first team.
Skolk had already started transitioning to a winger, and Suker's departure would free up a spot for him.Of course, the competition was still fierce.
"Good luck! See you in the top five leagues!"
Suker smiled and slung his backpack over his shoulder.Modrić followed with his suitcase.
Neither looked back — compared to Mostar, they were already dreaming of their future in Zagreb.
The three walked out of the dorm together, where a car was waiting.
It was the familiar maroon Santana. Van stoyak himself came to drive them.
Kosović and others also came to see them off.
"The Croatian league is much tougher than here. You might struggle at first, but I believe you'll perform well."
Kosović patted Suker's shoulder, then Modrić's."You're a Dinamo Zagreb youth product, take care of Suker there. This guy's too mischievous and always gets into trouble."
Modrić nodded immediately."I'll keep an eye on him."
"Hey! Hey!" Suker protested."I should be the one taking care of him!"
Kosović rolled his eyes."Just worry about taking care of yourself!"
In Kosović's eyes, Suker was forever that lovable but troublesome kid, so he trusted the more mature Modrić to look after him.
"Alright, that's it then."
Kosović finished, and others like Mashović said their goodbyes too.
"Goodbye, Suker!""Goodbye, Modrić!""I'll be following your games!""Good luck!"
Encouraged by their teammates, Suker and Modrić got into Van stoyak's car and drove off.
After arriving at the train station, Van stoyak looked at the two and said,"With your talent, I'm sure you'll perform well at Dinamo Zagreb. This is where I leave you. It's been an honor coaching you."
He hugged both Suker and Modrić before turning back and driving off.
Watching him disappear into the distance, the two finally entered the station.
"Aren't you going to say goodbye to Oripe and the others?""Already did," Suker waved.
Modrić nodded."Let's go."
Following the familiar route, they first took a train to Sarajevo, then to Zagreb.
They dozed off during the ride — the season had just ended, and their bodies were still tired.
The low rumble of the train horn woke them.
Suker rubbed his eyes and noticed other passengers getting off. The station sign confirmed they had reached Zagreb.
"Wake up! We're here! We're here!"
Suker shook Modrić awake.
Yawning, they grabbed their bags and exited the station.
Outside the exit stood scout Niel Jategenic, holding a sign.
He waved at them, and they walked over.
"Hello, Niel!" Modrić greeted. They'd met before and had a good relationship.
"Good to see you again, Luka!"
Suker looked curiously at Jategenic.
He smiled at Suker and said,"Hello, Suker, I'm Niel Jategenic, scout for Dinamo Zagreb. I was the one who submitted your profile. I watched you in Mostar for two months."
After a pause, he shrugged,"Honestly, your first match already told me you belonged at Dinamo Zagreb. You were excellent!"
Suker beamed."Thank you!"
"Let's head to the club first," said Jategenic.
Dinamo Zagreb's training facility was about five kilometers from the stadium, in what was technically a suburb — more like a small town, really — fully equipped with shopping centers, restaurants, hotels, and more.
While driving, Jategenic introduced the club's situation.
"Because of the damage caused by the Mostecic brothers, the team barely avoided relegation last season. The summer window saw massive transfers — many players were sold, and many new ones brought in."
"Yes, it's a full rebuild. Besic had no interest in preserving the previous squad — he's completely tearing it down."
Suker's eyes lit up."Does that mean I can choose my jersey number?"
"Of course! Many numbers are vacant."
Just as Suker excitedly shouted, "I want number 9!", Jategenic added,"Except 9."
Suker froze.Modrić couldn't help but laugh.
"Number 9 belongs to Kalinović," he explained.
Kalinović — Dinamo Zagreb's starting striker.
But Jategenic shook his head,"Nope. Kalinović was sold to Lokomotiva Zagreb."
Modrić was surprised."Last time I was back, he was still here."
"Winter transfer window — before Besic took over. The deal was already done."
Modrić sighed,"That's a shame. He was a great center forward."
Suker blinked. If Modrić thought highly of him, Kalinović must've been very good.
"So… who has the number 9 now?" Suker asked the key question.
Jategenic glanced at him in the rearview mirror and said,"Davor Šuker."
Suker: "!!!"Modrić: "!!!"
Davor Šuker — Croatian superstar, the crown jewel of Croatia's golden generation. Former Real Madrid and Arsenal player, known as the "Golden Left Foot" and said to be able to "play the violin with his left foot."
Suker had been dreaming of wearing number 9, but now that he knew Šuker had it, he gave up. No way he could compete for it anytime soon.
"Besides Šuker, Jarni and Štimac also joined us. And of course, many young players around your age. You'll meet them soon."
As they spoke, they arrived at Dinamo Zagreb's training base.
At the entrance was an arched gate with the club's crest. On both sides were sprawling fences covered in dense foliage, giving it a manor-like feel.
After entering, there was a small roundabout with three forks.
"Left is the first team's training field and dorms. Middle goes to the admin building. Right is the youth academy."
Jategenic played the tour guide, mostly for Suker's benefit — Modrić already knew the place.
They followed the middle path to the main office and entered the head coach's room.
Besic's office was simple: a desk cluttered with files, an old TV and DVD player in the corner — clearly for match tapes.
When they arrived, Besic welcomed them warmly.
"The team's still in rebuilding, so a lot is being adjusted. But the training equipment has been updated. Feel free to use it during the break."
After a pause, he asked,"Do you two still need dorms?"
Modrić shook his head."My parents want me to live at home."
Suker said,"I'll stay in the dorm."
The orphanage was too far, and he didn't want to burden the head caretaker.Plus, dorms were free — no rent!
"Alright, I'll get you a room. Report here tomorrow for your medical exams."
They nodded. Besic didn't hold them up.
Jategenic led them out."Let's head to the dorms first."
With staff shortages in the first team, Jategenic had also taken on team manager duties — Besic had fired so many people that the rebuild was total.
They collected bedding, toiletries, and daily necessities before heading to the dorm.
Compared to Zrinjski Mostar, Dinamo Zagreb's dorm was a major upgrade.
A standalone two-story building, with two floors of about 60 square meters each — more than enough space for two people.
It was there that Suker met his first roommate at Dinamo Zagreb:
A teen with a short buzz cut, about 180cm tall, slightly tan skin, and a strong build walked over.
"Hello! My name is Mario Mandžukić!"