The new tactic and style of play were performing quite well—at least when facing weaker teams, it had a clear dominant effect.
But how it would hold up against stronger teams remained a mystery.
After all, they hadn't tested it under that kind of pressure yet.
In the Champions League, Milan wouldn't risk experimenting.
At least not yet.
They needed to first go through the trial by fire in the league—only then could they consider taking it to the Champions League.
After all, the UCL is a knockout format—no team can afford to lose, let alone risk everything on untested tactics.
The second leg of the UCL Round of 16 was only three days away.
During this short window, AC Milan maintained their normal training schedule.They didn't test the new tactic, instead focusing fully on preparing for Real Madrid.
At this point, Ancelotti no longer worried about the so-called "coexistence" issue.He was fully committed to perfecting the "dog-fetching-the-frisbee" tactic.
That was currently the best fit for AC Milan.
Top-heavy.
The team had a powerful offense but a fragile defense.
But Ancelotti wasn't like Real Madrid, who often sacrificed defense for flashy offense.For Milan, defense was still a top priority.
That's why the frisbee tactic was a perfect solution.
The whole team retreated to defend as a unit, then launched long passes to Suker for counterattacks.
Except for Suker, everyone's job was to get the ball to his feet and create space for him whenever possible.
Kaka had adapted well to the wide midfield position.
He ran tirelessly and had an expansive field of vision.
At this point, he was even starting to act as the tempo controller.
Just when everything seemed like routine passing, one sudden ball from Kaka could unleash a deadly counterattack.
That showcased his football IQ, awareness, vision, and technique.
From that alone, it was clear: Kaka's awareness wasn't just platinum level anymore—it was beyond that.
As for Suker—he had half given up on drawing awareness-type cards.
Including the Coppa Italia, Suker had played in three consecutive matches and drawn a total of 12 platinum cards—not a single one related to awareness.
There were some special-type cards, but none were platinum-level either.
One day before the match, Milan didn't train—they were given a day off.
Ancelotti wasn't the rigid type.He prioritized efficiency, not mindless repetition.
Train when it's time to train, rest when it's time to rest.
At this point, all preparations were complete.
On their day off, Suker and Kaka were chilling at home, with Pato beside them hugging a tub of ice cream.
On the TV, Real Madrid's entire squad could be seen stepping off the plane, led by head coach Bernd Schuster.
Camera flashes flickered non-stop.
Despite poor recent performances in the Champions League, as one of the most elite clubs in the world, Real Madrid still had an overwhelming influence.
Of course, that influence had been fading somewhat lately.
Because in football, winning is the ultimate truth.
If Real Madrid kept losing, their legacy would slowly crumble too.
Once Florentino Pérez returned to power, the club began moving back in the right direction.
Especially after Ancelotti eventually took over, Madrid's potential exploded.
Even during Barcelona's most dominant era, Mourinho's Galácticos managed to withstand them—if not fully rival them.
But Suker was curious:
What if Ancelotti had come to Madrid earlier?Could any team have truly stood toe-to-toe with that peak Barcelona?
"Real Madrid is so cool!"
Pato marveled at the screen, staring at the players in their pristine white Real kits.Then he turned to Suker and Kaka and quickly changed his tone:
"But I still think Milan is the coolest!"
Suker scoffed.
This country bumpkin. What do you even know about being cool?
"How are things with Barbara?"
Kaka suddenly asked.He had noticed Pato hadn't been chasing Barbara around lately.
"We agreed to give each other some space,"
Pato replied.
Suker turned to him:
"So… you got dumped?"
Pato immediately flared up:
"No! That's not it! Don't make it sound like that!"
Suker smirked:
"Look at you. Acting like I stepped on your tail."
Pato insisted:
"I really like her. Don't joke about my feelings.She's different from the girlfriends I had back in Brazil."
Click.
Suker stopped a recording on his phone.
"You have two options: go buy three coffees—or treat us to one Chinese meal."
Pato puffed out his cheeks and huffed before storming out.
Kaka chuckled.
"You just love bullying him."
Suker replied:
"He's too noisy. Why won't this guy go back to his own place?No matter how much I try to kick him out, he won't leave!"
Kaka shook his head.
"His face really is thick."
Suker suddenly turned to stare directly at Kaka.
"What?"
"Your face is pretty thick too!"
Real Madrid's squad had officially arrived in Milan.
This time, they were backed into a corner.
They had failed to make the UCL quarterfinals three years in a row—if they failed again, there would be no excuses left.
After their first-leg loss, morale had taken a huge hit.
Many players had begun to doubt whether Real Madrid still had what it took to compete in Europe.
Once, Real Madrid was the dream destination in Europe.
Top superstars and rising prodigies alike couldn't resist when Los Blancos offered them a contract.
It wasn't just an invitation—it was validation, and a ticket to a bright future.
But now… even that aura was starting to fade.
Robben and Sneijder felt it too.
They had joined Madrid with dreams of UCL glory.
But reality wasn't lining up.
Veteran players might stay for their fat paychecks.But the younger players, especially those eager to prove themselves, were growing restless.
Robben put down his suitcase and closed the door behind him.
Now it was just him and fellow Dutchman Sneijder in the room.
"This sucks."
Sneijder muttered.
Robben sighed slightly.
Ever since arriving in Madrid, things had felt off.
The club was full of internal competition and politics, creating intense infighting.
If that energy was being spent on external opponents, maybe it would be okay.
But it wasn't—it was just internal chaos.
Even winning a starting spot didn't seem to mean anything.
The team's play felt rigid and uninspired.
Even a single win felt hard-earned.
"You guys have it rough on the front line."
Sneijder commented.
As a midfielder, and with Madrid lacking top-quality midfielders, Sneijder was actually doing okay in the league.
But the forward line was a different story.
Raúl, Van Nistelrooy, Robinho, Robben, Higuaín—Only Raúl and Robinho were considered guaranteed starters.
Head coach Schuster wanted to rebuild the squad, but his authority wasn't strong enough.Club president Calderón kept interfering in first-team decisions, creating a chaotic environment.
It was no wonder the team was underperforming.
"Why aren't you saying anything?"
Sneijder asked.
Robben waved him off:
"Just get some rest. Prepare for tomorrow's match."
Sneijder looked out the window at the slightly reddened sky—It was only evening. You're sleeping already?
"I'm just a little tired."
Robben lay on his side in bed.
Sneijder, seeing there was no more conversation to be had, left the room to go chat with others.
Once he was alone, Robben slowly opened his eyes.
They were full of confusion.
Joining Real Madrid was supposed to be the right move.But now… it felt so uncertain.
He couldn't find any real drive or direction here.
What was he supposed to do next?
What path was he supposed to follow?
In the past, every season started with clear goals:
Avoid relegation
Make top four
Win the title
But now—everything was unclear.Just drifting along, no plans, no motivation.
That feeling… sucked.
That was the root of Robben's growing doubt.
Of course, he still wanted to succeed at Real Madrid.After all—this was Real Madrid.
But how long could he hold onto that belief?
And then, there was tomorrow's match.
In the first leg, Robben wasn't even in the squad.He watched the whole match from home.
He wouldn't say Milan was "strong,"but at least they were united, energized.
Most importantly—they had a massive ace on their side.
Suker's performance in that match was still vivid in Robben's memory.
"Can we win tomorrow…?"
Robben's heart began to waver.
Ever since he left Chelsea, everything had seemed to go off track.