2ND Game
The realization of what he had just accomplished washed over him in waves. He had scored the winning goal in his international debut.
As his teammates rushed to him, lifting him off the ground in celebration, Luka felt a mix of elation and disbelief. He had dreamed of this moment countless times, but the reality far surpassed any imagination.
"Incredible, Luka!" Perišić shouted, embracing him. "What a debut!"
The significance of the win wasn't lost on anyone. This victory put Croatia in a strong position in their qualifying group, leapfrogging Russia to claim the top spot. With 10 points from 5 games, they now had a two-point lead over Russia, with a game in hand.
As the team made their way back to the dressing room, the chatter was all about their next match against Slovakia in Bratislava. The momentum from this win would be crucial for that away fixture.
"We've got to keep this going," Dalić said, addressing the team. "This win means nothing if we don't follow it up. But tonight, we celebrate Luka's incredible debut."
The dressing room erupted in cheers, with players patting Luka on the back and ruffling his hair.
As Luka sat down, still trying to process everything, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Modrić, who had been watching the game from the stands due to his injury.
"That was something special, kid," Modrić said, his eyes twinkling with pride. "You played with the confidence of a veteran out there. Keep this up, and you'll go far."
Luka felt a lump in his throat. Praise from Modrić, one of his idols, meant more than he could express. "Thank you," he managed to say. "I just tried to play my game."
Modrić chuckled. "Your game is pretty impressive. I can't wait to play alongside you when I'm back."
As the initial excitement settled, the team began their post-match routines. Luka went through his cool-down exercises, his mind still replaying moments from the game. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered the feeling of the ball leaving his foot for the goal.
A federation official approached him as he finished stretching. "Luka, you've been named Man of the Match. There are some journalists who'd like to speak with you, if you're up for it."
Luka nodded, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. He'd done interviews before, but this was his first international post-match press conference. He quickly showered and changed, making sure to put on his mask before heading to the media room.
The room was packed with journalists, all eager to speak with the young star who had just announced himself on the international stage. Luka took a deep breath before stepping up to the microphone.
"Luka, congratulations on an incredible debut," the first journalist began. "How does it feel to score the winning goal in your first international match?"
Luka smiled behind his mask. "It's an indescribable feeling," he said. "To be able to contribute to the team's success in my first cap is more than I could have dreamed of. But it's just the beginning. We have more important matches ahead."
Another journalist chimed in. "You've now won Man of the Match in almost every game you've played this season. What's the secret to your consistent performances?"
Luka thought for a moment. "There's no secret really. It's just hard work, dedication, and the support of my teammates and coaches. I try to give my best in every match, whether it's for Dortmund or Croatia."
The questions continued, ranging from his playing style to his thoughts on the upcoming match against Slovakia.
As the press conference wound down, Luka felt a sense of accomplishment. Not just for his performance on the pitch, but for how he had handled himself off it. He was growing not just as a player, but as a professional.
Back in the dressing room, the team was preparing to leave for the airport. The mood was still buoyant, with players excitedly discussing plans for the Slovakia match. Luka found himself at the center of many conversations, with teammates playfully warning him not to let the success go to his head.
As they boarded the team bus, Dalić sat down next to Luka. "You handled yourself well in there," the coach said, nodding towards the stadium. "On and off the pitch. But remember, this is just the start. The real challenge is consistency."
Luka nodded, taking the words to heart. "I understand, coach. I'm ready for the challenge."
As the team settled into their hotel for a brief stopover before heading to Slovakia, Luka's phone buzzed. It was Mendes, his agent.
"Luka, my boy!" Jorge's excited voice came through. "Congratulations on an incredible international debut! You've set the football world buzzing!"
"Thanks, Jorge," Luka replied, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all.
"Listen, I've got some exciting news," Jorge continued. "I've been in discussions with several major brands. Nike, Adidas, New Balance - everyone wants you."
Luka's eyes widened. "Everyone?" he asked, surprised by the sudden interest.
"Yes, everyone," Jorge confirmed. "Your performance today has put you on the map in a big way. We're talking potential multi-million euro deals here."
Luka's mind raced. He knew that Nike and Adidas were the two major players in football sponsorships. But he also remembered that there were other brands that had found success with certain players.
"What about the other brands?" Luka asked, trying to recall which companies had good reputations for treating their athletes well.
"Well, we've got interest from Puma, Under Armour, and even some up-and-coming brands like Castore," Jorge explained. "They're all eager to sign you."
Luka thought hard, trying to remember what he knew about these brands. Puma had been making waves with their football sponsorships, signing players like Neymar and entire teams like Manchester City. New Balance had a reputation for creating custom boots for their athletes, really focusing on the individual player's needs.
"I think... I might be interested in one of the smaller brands," Luka said hesitantly. "Maybe New Balance or Puma? I've heard they treat their athletes really well."
Jorge was silent for a moment. "Are you sure? Nike and Adidas are offering significantly more money."
Luka paused, considering. "I know, but... shouldn't we wait a little longer? I mean, I've just started. I know I can perform even better. What if we wait and see how the next few matches go?"
"Luka," Jorge said, his tone serious. "Are you sure about this? Your current contract isn't paying you that well, is it?"
The question hit home. Luka thought about his apartment in Dortmund, the small gym he'd cobbled together, the compression sleeves that were his only 'luxury' item. It was true - his base salary wasn't high. It was only because of his goal and performance bonuses that he had any sort of money to work with.
"You're right," Luka admitted. "I'm not making much. But I don't want to rush into anything. Can we maybe negotiate with a few of them? See what kind of deals they're offering beyond just money?"
Jorge chuckled. "You're wise beyond your years, kid. Alright, I'll see what I can do. I'll talk to New Balance and Puma, see what kind of packages they can put together. But don't rule out the bigger brands yet. Sometimes, going with the established names can open a lot of doors."
"I understand," Luka said. "Thank you, Jorge. I trust you to handle this."
"That's what I'm here for," Jorge replied. "Now, get some rest. You've got another big game coming up. Keep playing like you did today, and we'll have brands fighting over you in no time."
The idea of a major sponsorship deal was thrilling, but he didn't want to let it distract him from what really mattered - his performance on the pitch.
He lay back on his hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the day played through his mind on repeat - his debut, the goal, the victory, and now this call from Jorge. It was all happening so fast.
Luka closed his eyes, trying to center himself. He thought about his family back home, about the promises he'd made to help them. A big sponsorship deal could certainly help with that. But he also thought about the pressure that would come with such a deal. The expectations would be even higher.
The team's flight to Bratislava was early the next morning, and despite his exhaustion, Luka found himself wide awake before dawn.
This would be their second consecutive away game, and the players were feeling the strain of constant travel. Luka, in particular, felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach. He hadn't even had the chance to play a home game in Croatia yet, and here he was, about to face another away crowd.
During the pre-match training session, Luka felt slightly off his game. His touches weren't as crisp as usual, and he found himself second-guessing his decisions. Dalić noticed and pulled him aside.
"Luka, what's going on? You seem distracted," the coach said, his brow furrowed with concern.
Luka hesitated before responding. "I don't know, coach. I guess I'm just feeling the pressure. It's all happening so fast, you know?"
Dalić nodded understandingly. "You've got nothing to prove to anyone. Just play your game, like you did against Russia. That's all we need from you."
Those words helped, but as Luka stepped onto the pitch at the Tehelné pole stadium, he could feel his heart racing. The Slovak fans were in full voice, creating an intimidating atmosphere. For a moment, Luka felt overwhelmed by it all.
But as the whistle blew and the match began, something clicked inside him. The nerves transformed into adrenaline, and suddenly, Luka felt more alive than ever.
In the 17th minute, Luka received the ball just outside the Slovakia box. Three defenders converged on him, thinking they had him trapped. But Luka had other ideas. With a lightning-quick stepover, he sent the first defender stumbling. A rapid change of direction left the second one flat-footed. The third lunged in desperately, but Luka nonchalantly flicked the ball over his outstretched leg.
Now with space, Luka looked up and saw the keeper slightly off his line. Without hesitation, he unleashed a a shot. The ball soared through the air, curling away from the keeper's desperate reach, before nestling perfectly in the top corner of the net.
The stadium fell silent for a moment, then erupted in a mix of awe and disappointment from the home fans. Luka's teammates mobbed him, their faces a picture of disbelief and joy. He had done it again, scoring another crucial goal for his country.
Buoyed by this early success, Luka began to dominate the game. His passes were incisive, his movement off the ball caused constant problems for the Slovak defense. In the 41st minute, he struck again. Receiving a pass from Brozović on the edge of the box, Luka took one touch to control, another to set himself, and then curled a beautiful shot into the far corner, leaving the keeper rooted to the spot.
As the teams went in for halftime, the score stood at 2-0 to Croatia, with Luka's name on everyone's lips. In the dressing room, Dalić was ecstatic.
"This is exactly what we needed," he said, addressing the team but looking directly at Luka. "But we can't let up. They'll come at us hard in the second half."
The coach's words proved prophetic. Slovakia came out after the break with renewed determination, pressing high and looking to disrupt Croatia's rhythm. For a while, it worked, and Croatia found themselves on the back foot.
But in the 68th minute, Luka turned provider. Spotting Brozović's run into the box, he delivered a perfectly weighted pass that split the defense. Brozović made no mistake, slotting the ball past the keeper to make it 3-0.
The game seemed won, but as the clock ticked towards the 86th minute, disaster struck. Luka made a sharp turn to avoid a tackle and felt a sudden twinge in his ankle. He immediately knew something was wrong. Signaling to the bench, he limped off the field.
In the locker room, the team doctor examined Luka's ankle with a frown. "It's a minor sprain," he explained. "You've been putting a lot of stress on it lately with all the matches and training. Are you prone to ankle injuries?"
Luka nodded, recalling the conversation and the reason he always wore ankle tape.
The doctor continued, "You need to rest properly and not overwork yourself. I know you're eager to keep playing, but we need to manage this carefully to prevent more serious injuries down the line."
Despite the concern about his ankle, Luka couldn't help but feel elated about the team's performance. They had won 3-0 away from home, strengthening their position in the qualifying group.
As the team celebrated their victory, Dalić approached Luka. "Incredible performance today," the coach said. "But we need to be careful with that ankle. We can't risk losing you for an extended period."
Luka nodded, understanding the importance of proper recovery. "I'll be more careful, coach. I promise."
The good news came quickly: the injury wasn't serious. With proper rest and treatment, he would be ready for the next match. Despite the minor ankle injury, he couldn't help but feel proud of the progress he'd made. For weeks now, he had been pushing himself to the limit, staying behind after team training sessions to work on his strength and conditioning.
The extra effort was paying off. While he still wasn't the most physically imposing player on the pitch, Luka had noticed a significant improvement in his ability to hold his ground. He was getting bodied off the ball less frequently, and there were even moments when he managed to shield the ball effectively against larger opponents. It was a small change, but one that made a world of difference in his gameplay.
As he scrolled through his phone, Luka was taken aback by the explosion of reactions on social media
One tweet caught his eye:
@FootballFanatic22: "Luka Zorić's stats are insane! 7 games, 8 goals, 9 assists?! Where did this kid come from?! I need him on Football Manager right now!"
@UTDBOY12t: "What the hell are Man Utd thinking letting this guy leave on loan? We need to bring him back to the club ASAP and terminate that loan!"
@ManU242: "The buy clause for Dortmund is probably around 50m. Man Utd better act fast or they'll regret it."
@FabrizioRomano: "Luka Zorić situation: There is a recall option, but Luka has to agree to it. The buy clause for Dortmund is just €2m. Zorić is in the last year of his contract with Man Utd."
This information sent shockwaves through the football community. Fans couldn't believe that Manchester United had allowed such a talented player to slip through their fingers so easily.
@MarkGoldbridge: "This is why Man Utd are failing as a club. We are not properly run. Man City would never allow a talent like Luka to leave for peanuts. This is a disgrace. #GlazersOut"
@SteinHammer: "Luka is reminding me a lot of Neymar. The way he plays is like a mix of Neymar and Di Maria. Such incredible skill and technique."
@XG: "His technique is better than some world-class footballers. If this kid gets stronger, he'll be absolutely dangerous."
Training clips of Luka started circulating, showcasing his ball control and dribbling skills.
@FootballHighlights099: "Just look at this training clip of Luka! His ball control is out of this world. How did Man Utd let him go?!"
The discussions about Luka's potential seemed endless. Pundits debated his future, with many predicting he would soon be playing for one of Europe's elite clubs.
@Lollipop_gun11: "If Luka continues to develop physically while maintaining this level of skill, we're looking at a future Ballon d'Or contender. Mark my words."
As the social media storm raged on, Luka tried to stay focused on his recovery and preparation for the next match. He was flattered by the attention but knew that consistency would be key to maintaining this level of performance.
When the team touched down in Croatia for their final qualifying match, Luka felt a surge of emotions. This was more than just another game - it was a homecoming. After the grueling training session, instead of his usual extra workout, Luka decided to take a walk through the familiar streets of Zagreb.
His feet carried him to a small, unassuming restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner. The exterior looked exactly as he remembered it - slightly worn, but with a charm that spoke of countless stories within its walls. This place held a special significance for Luka, when he had permantly moved to Croatia he had practically 0 euros to his name and the resturant owner sheltered him until he could find his own place, as if he were her own son.
As he pushed open the door, the smell of hearty Croatian cuisine washed over him. The owner, a kind-faced woman in her sixties, looked up from behind the counter. Her eyes widened in recognition.
"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth. "You're that footballer everyone's talking about! Luka Zorić!"
Luka smiled sheepishly, adjusting his mask. "Yes, that's me. I hope you don't mind me dropping in."
"Mind? Of course not! Please, sit down. What can I get you?"
As Luka settled into a corner table, he couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. He ordered a traditional Croatian tea and a small plate of strukli, his mask pulled down just enough to eat and drink.
It wasn't long before other patrons began to notice him. Despite his attempts to remain low-key, a steady stream of people approached his table, asking for photos and autographs. Luka obliged as best he could, touched by their warmth and enthusiasm.
"Thank you for choosing us over Portugal and England," one young fan said earnestly. "You're making all of Croatia proud!"
These words struck a chord with Luka. The connection he felt with these people, his people, was undeniable.
As the evening wore on, Luka found himself reflecting on the eventful past few weeks. Out of curiosity, he pulled out his phone and checked his Twitter account. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"80,000 followers?" he muttered to himself. "When did that happen?"
The number seemed surreal. Luka had been so focused on football that he hadn't fully grasped the extent of his rising fame. Messages poured in faster than he could read them - fans expressing their admiration, journalists requesting interviews, and fellow players congratulating him on his performances.
"I'm lucky I have a social media manager," Luka thought, shaking his head in amazement. "There's no way I could respond to all of these myself."
Just a few months ago, he was an unknown player, and now he was being stopped on the streets for autographs. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
As he finished his tea, the owner approached his table again. "Luka, I hope you don't mind me asking, but... have you been here before? You seem so familiar with the place."
Luka paused, unsure how to answer. "I... I'm not sure," he replied honestly. "It just feels like home, somehow."
The woman nodded, a knowing smile on her face. "Well, you're always welcome here. Consider this your home away from home."