May 26th, Champions League Final day.
The entire city of London was already buzzing with excitement.
Large numbers of Manchester United fans had traveled from Manchester to London, gathering at Wembley Stadium.
A match on home soil meant this was practically a home game for Manchester United.
Therefore, they couldn't afford to lose the Champions League final in their own backyard.
The sky was bright as Modrić yawned and got out of bed.
Due to the match, Modrić hadn't slept well, mainly because of the immense pressure.
Just thinking about Suker and Real Madrid brought on a wave of stress that made it hard to sleep.
"Suker probably slept like a baby!"
The thought made Modrić feel even more frustrated.
After washing up, Modrić headed to the hotel restaurant for breakfast.
"Good morning, Luka!"
"Good morning!"
"Beautiful day!"
As Modrić entered the restaurant, his Manchester United teammates greeted him one after another.
As the midfield engine handpicked by Ferguson and the wearer of the iconic No. 10 jersey, Modrić's status within the team was undeniable.
Moreover, Ferguson had molded Modrić exceptionally well—not technically, but mentally.
When he first joined Manchester United, Modrić was a shy young man.
But soon, he mastered Ferguson's infamous "hairdryer treatment" and became fluent in swearing.
Now, he was even leading his teammates into fights.
During the 36th round of the league, Manchester United had a clash with Birmingham. Modrić grabbed the loudest provocateur and slapped him twice.
Although he was pushed down and looked somewhat embarrassed, his fighting spirit was truly in the Red Devils' tradition.
Modrić filled his plate and began eating.
Ronaldo walked over with his tray.
"Good morning!"
Ronaldo smiled and winked.
Modrić looked up. "Seems like you slept well!"
Ronaldo shrugged. "Of course! I need to be in top condition for the match."
At that moment, Rooney walked in. He didn't greet Ronaldo or Modrić but sat at another table, eating silently.
Due to the rift between Rooney and Ronaldo, the former held a grudge against Modrić, considering him "Ronaldo's guy."
Modrić found this utterly ridiculous and childish, so he ignored Rooney as well.
After all, Ferguson kept everyone in line, and no one could cause real trouble.
Of course, Ferguson had tried to reconcile Ronaldo and Rooney, but it hadn't worked out.
"Today's match won't be easy," Ronaldo said seriously.
Modrić nodded. "Suker's form is scorching."
Ronaldo smiled. "In terms of goal-scoring form, I'm pretty hot too!"
Modrić agreed. Ronaldo had truly exploded this season. Topping the Champions League scoring chart ahead of Suker spoke volumes about his performance.
"But we still can't let our guard down," Modrić said sternly. "When it comes to finals, Suker becomes even more dangerous!"
"Is that really a thing?" Ronaldo asked, surprised.
"I'm not entirely sure, but..." Modrić said gravely, "this guy always delivers in finals, so we have to be careful!"
Ding!
A text message notification sounded.
Modrić opened his phone.
It was a message from Mandžukić:
[Crush that bastard Suker, Luka! We're all rooting for you!]
Modrić tilted his head in confusion, but soon, more messages flooded in.
Dujmović: [Destroy Suker! Make that asshole cry! He has to cry!]
Vukojević: [Kill Suker! That total bastard!]
Even the usually gentle Pranjić was fired up:
[Kill Suker! Get revenge for us! That bastard gave us those awful masks during national team training, and we puked for two days! Destroy him!]
Modrić couldn't help but laugh.
These guys were at it again.
The season had ended, and they had likely returned to the national team training center to prepare for the European Championship qualifiers in June.
Croatia was performing well, currently on a winning streak.
The qualifiers would run until November, followed by Euro 2012.
But from their messages, Modrić was curious about what kind of training had pissed them off so much.
At the same time, in the hotel where Real Madrid was staying.
"Suker, look at this!"
Srna turned his phone around, showing two text messages.
From Dujmović—
[Kill Suker! Luka, we're all with you!]
[Sent to the wrong person! Dario, don't tell Suker!]
Suker narrowed his eyes and snorted coldly. He immediately took out his phone and sent a message to Dujmović.
A moment later, his phone rang.
Suker flipped his phone over.
"Let's eat. Keep eating."
Soon, Suker's phone stopped ringing, but Srna's phone was bombarded with messages.
[Captain! My dear captain! Please beg for mercy on my behalf! I was wrong! I really was!]
[Ahhhhhhh—Captain!! Say something!]
[Captain!!!!!!!!!!—]
Srna grinned and looked at Suker curiously. "What did you send him? He's going crazy!"
Suker smiled as he popped a boiled egg into his mouth.
"Remember the celebration banquet after we won the European Championship?"
Srna nodded.
Suker: "After we drank, we had a few more at my place. Tommy provoked me and ended up getting wasted."
Srna was stunned. "And then?"
Suker shrugged. "Then, he insisted on doing a striptease."
"You recorded it?"
Suker grinned. "How could I miss that opportunity!"
Srna fell silent for a moment. "Suker... do you have any material on me in your computer?"
"On you?" Suker blinked.
Srna's heart was pounding.
Suker gave a mysterious smile.
Smile, my ass!
Srna was about to explode.
Do you or don't you?!
"Everyone, finish breakfast and gather in the tactics room!"
Assistant coach Faria walked in and announced loudly.
Suker picked up his tray and left.
Srna could only glare at Suker with a resentful look.
Damn it!
This captaincy is so frustrating!
Do you have anything on me or not?
In the hotel tactics room, Mourinho was going over the game plan.
These tactics had been discussed many times, but to ensure everyone was on the same page, he went over them again.
After all, once they finished the afternoon pitch inspection, there would be almost no time left.
The roads leading to Wembley Stadium had already been placed under traffic control.
Fans wanting to reach the stadium would have to either take the subway or take a detour.
The direct route from London Bridge was restricted. On match day, only the team buses of the two finalists would be allowed to pass through.
At 1:00 PM, Real Madrid received notification to inspect the pitch.
Mourinho led the players to Wembley Stadium.
As one of England's most famous stadiums, Wembley hosted national team matches and FA Cup finals.
It had also been the venue for many historic games.
Wembley Stadium was renovated in 2007 and now had a capacity of 90,000 spectators.
From a distance, the stadium's most striking feature was the massive arch above it. At night, with lights illuminating it, London fans referred to it as the "Rainbow Bridge."
Upon arriving at Wembley, the players changed into their gear in the locker room and then stepped onto the pitch.
Apart from the players, coaching staff, and essential personnel, the stadium was empty.
This was only the pitch inspection phase, and the stadium hadn't been opened to the public yet.
Suker noticed the Champions League logo displayed on the stadium's dome. The arch above the player tunnel, along with various props for the opening ceremony, were already set up around the field.
The stadium was quiet now, but by evening, it would become the most vibrant place in the world.
Soon, the players began their pitch inspection training.
This involved routine warm-up exercises to help their bodies adapt to the pitch.
They tested the turf's condition, traction, and other factors.
In the past, pitches weren't as well-maintained, and some had uneven surfaces. The pitch inspection ensured visiting teams could familiarize themselves with the conditions, promoting fairness.
Nowadays, pitches were highly standardized, with flat, well-kept turf free of muddy or uneven areas.
However, the pitch inspection still helped build the players' excitement.
After a round of training, the players began to leave the field.
On their way out, Suker signed autographs and took photos with some staff members.
Back in the locker room, Mourinho gave a brief pep talk before the team boarded the bus back to the hotel.
When they returned to the stadium that evening, it would be for the Champions League final.
As the final drew closer, the tension continued to build.
Marcelo made repeated trips to the bathroom to relieve himself, while other players seemed unusually thirsty.
Even Suker, who had won two Champions League titles, felt nervous returning to the final after three years.
At 4:30 PM, the players began eating whole-wheat bread, bananas, and other energy-rich foods—but not too much, to avoid putting strain on their stomachs and ensure blood flow to their limbs for better performance.
At 5:00 PM sharp, the hotel lobby was packed with event organizers, staff, and hotel employees.
They all watched the elevator doors intently.
Soon, the Real Madrid players began stepping out of the elevator.
Instantly, applause erupted.
"Go!!!—"
"Forward! Real Madrid!"
"Suker! Show them what you've got!"
"We'll be waiting for your triumphant return!"
"Win the match! Lift the trophy!"
"Good luck, lads!"
Amid the cheers and applause, the Real Madrid players gathered in the lobby.
Near the entrance, their equipment boxes were lined up. Assistant coach Faria directed the logistics.
"Put the water bottles on the left. Keep them separate from the gear!"
"What about the jerseys? Load the jerseys first!"
"Grab some bananas!"
Faria directed everything methodically.
Mourinho's team had extensive Champions League experience, so they handled everything smoothly.
They knew one thing was crucial at this moment: the players' emotions.
The players were in a highly sensitive state.
If these trivial matters were handled chaotically, the players would feel unsettled during the match.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The sharp sound of horns echoed.
Two police cars and four police motorcycles slowly pulled up to the hotel entrance, escorting the Real Madrid team bus.
Faria instructed the staff to load the equipment onto the bus first.
Then, Mourinho waved his hand.
"Let's go!!—"
Whoosh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!—
Outside the hotel, the waiting reporters and fans erupted into thunderous cheers.
Amid the cheers, many Real Madrid players' breathing grew rapid.
This was it—the Champions League final was here!
The bus drove along the empty road.
Along the way, broadcast vehicles followed, helicopters buzzed overhead, and police cars led the way.
The Real Madrid players felt like they were the center of the world's attention.
And they were.
As one of the Champions League finalists, they were undoubtedly in the global spotlight.
The bus crossed London Bridge, with the Thames River flowing below.
In the distance, the massive Wembley Stadium and its colorful arch came into view.
Under different lights, the arch changed colors, resembling a rainbow.
Hence the name "Rainbow Bridge."
The bus drove in silence until it reached the other end of the bridge, where the cheers suddenly intensified.
Whoosh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!—
At that moment, every Real Madrid player shuddered, goosebumps rising on their skin.
On both sides of the road, fanatical Real Madrid fans cheered wildly.
They had traveled from afar, overcoming obstacles, just to witness their team reclaim glory.
On this night!
On British soil!
Real Madrid would reclaim the honor they had lost for nine years. They would once again stand atop Europe!
Boom!!! Boom!!! Boom!!!
Rhythmic clapping echoed like thunder.
The cheers of tens of thousands of Real Madrid fans penetrated the stadium walls and reached their ears.
The bus slowly came to a stop.
Mourinho stood up and shouted, "It's time to get off!"
Casillas, as captain, led the way, walking out with his head held high.
Pepe, Srna, Carvalho, and others followed closely.
One by one, the Real Madrid players stepped off the bus, their images broadcast worldwide.
Each player's appearance was met with roaring cheers.
When Suker finally stepped off the bus, the cheers reached a fever pitch.
The players walked silently into the stadium and entered the locker room.
They began changing into their gear almost mechanically. Many were so nervous their minds went blank.
Sigh...
Suker couldn't help but shake his head. These guys were way too tense!
Marcelo had put his shirt on wrong, his afro crammed into the sleeve.
Di María's hands trembled as he tied his shoelaces.
Casillas was calm but too quiet.
Suker sighed and stood up. "Hey! Listen up, everyone!"
Everyone looked up at him.
Suker: "I know you're nervous, but that won't help us win. Too much nervousness is bad, and too much excitement is too. You need to find your usual rhythm."
"A Champions League final is no big deal. It's just like any other match."
"Do you know what's most important in big games like this?"
Everyone asked curiously, "What?"
"Find your usual self!" Suker smiled. "Before a big match, nervousness is unavoidable. Many players perform poorly because of it. So you need to find your usual self, that stability!"
"Take deep breaths! Remember how you feel during ordinary matches. Remember past games. Our bodies already know how to win. Now, you need to calm your minds."
Marcelo looked up. "So how do we do that?"
"Simple!"
Suker took a deep breath and suddenly roared.
"CHAMPIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!—"
He shouted loudly, his face turning red, his voice hoarse and trembling.
The sudden outburst startled everyone.
But soon, they began to follow suit.
"CHAMPIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!—"
"FIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!—"
"GOD BLESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!—"
"VICTORY!!!!!!!!!!—VICTORY! VICTORY! VICTORY!!"
They shouted until they were breathless, until their lungs were empty, until their minds were dizzy from lack of oxygen.
When they finally gasped for air, they were slightly sweaty, and their nervousness had genuinely eased.
Suker nodded in satisfaction. "Let's go! It's time to warm up!"
No matter how legendary these players would become, everyone had a first time.
And for most of the Real Madrid players, this was their first Champions League final!
Nervousness was understandable!
But to win the championship, it couldn't be allowed.
Suker's eyes sharpened.
He hadn't returned to the Champions League final after three years just to look around and soak in the atmosphere.
He was here for one reason only:
To win!
To take home the big-eared cup!
At the corner of the player tunnel.
Real Madrid and Manchester United players came face to face. Their eyes met, sparks flying.
Ronaldo stared at Suker.
Suker glared back at Ronaldo.
Kaká and Modrić also locked eyes, neither backing down.
Together, they walked through the player tunnel and emerged onto the pitch at Wembley Stadium.
Whoosh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!—
Instantly, fierce cheers erupted.
The stadium was divided into two colors.
On the left, Real Madrid fans in white jerseys.
On the right, Manchester United fans in red jerseys.
They cheered relentlessly, chanting and cheering for their respective teams.
For both Real Madrid and Manchester United, this was their chance to once again stand atop Europe!
They wouldn't let this opportunity slip away.
Tonight's battle would be fierce and intense.
No matter how tough it got, they would grit their teeth and fight with every last ounce of strength to secure victory.
They would conquer Europe tonight!
They would become the best team of the year!
And it would all be decided in this match!
After countless battles and brutal clashes, they had arrived in London, England.
They had reached the ultimate stage: Wembley Stadium.
Here, they would compete in the 2010/2011 Champions League final.
The battle was about to begin!
It was time to draw their swords. Only the brave would reach the summit!