"Modrić shakes off the Brazilian player Gioani's pressing, and he sends the ball to the wing!"
"Valević returns the pass, and the ball is back at Modrić's feet. Modrić pushes forward—he's deliberately drawing attention—long-range shot!!!"
"Ohhh~~~ The Dynamo Kyiv goalkeeper is in superb form! Three saves in a row have kept Dynamo Kyiv from conceding, but the pressure is still immense—Dinamo Zagreb's lads are relentlessly pressing!"
Commentator Kraušević's eyes gleamed with excitement.
"They're not giving the opposition a moment to breathe!"
"Damn it! Why can't we stop number 10?!"
"Don't let him shoot freely!"
"Mark your man! Keep your eyes on him!"
The Dynamo Kyiv players shouted anxiously.
This Dinamo Zagreb side feels incredibly dangerous.
From the very first minute, these guys pounced like a pack of ravenous wolves, fighting tooth and nail.
Especially that number 10!
Gioani's eyes locked on Modrić.
This guy doesn't look like a midfielder from the Croatian league.
Time and again, Modrić's organization of the attack put the opposition in a bind.
At this moment, Modrić felt himself in peak form.
A glint of excitement shone in his eyes—his body felt light, as if he could do anything.
They couldn't rely on Šuker alone anymore.
Modrić roared and launched himself forward.
Duimović provided cover on the flank, and Modrić crashed into Gioani.
Both were thrown slightly off balance from the collision.
Gioani cursed in his heart.
But the next second, Modrić recovered faster, instantly hooking the ball away.
"You're not getting past!"
Gioani was just about to stretch a leg when Modrić pulled a sudden stop-and-go, changing direction and bursting past him.
Modrić shouted. Newest update provided by NoveIꜰire.net
At the same moment, Valević made a forward run.
Just as Valević surged forward, Modrić slotted a piercing through pass right into his path.
"A surgical through ball!! Valević!! He's one-on-one!!"
Valević sprinted desperately toward goal.
As he saw the keeper diving, he attempted a chip.
But the keeper, highly experienced, didn't fully commit—he held his body up with one arm and managed to get a fingertip on the ball.
The ball bounced to about three meters away.
Right at the spot where Mandžukić and Sablić were converging.
Commentator Kraušević bellowed.
Dynamo Kyiv's center-back Sablić looked panicked.
He couldn't hold him!
No matter how hard he pulled Mandžukić's shirt—stretched long and tight—it made no difference.
The referee's eyes were already narrowing dangerously.
But Sablić didn't dare let go.
Suddenly, Mandžukić let out a roar, twisted his body powerfully, and used his arm to shove Sablić away.
Sablić's grip loosened, and Mandžukić dove forward for a powerful header.
The ball smashed into the net.
"What monstrous physical strength!"
"Sablić tried everything to drag Mandžukić back, but he just couldn't!"
"Mandžukić finishes on the rebound—Dinamo Zagreb strikes first!"
"And of course, Modrić's surgical through pass was crucial in that goal!"
As the commentator praised the play,
Modrić, Mandžukić, and Valević embraced each other in celebration.
Not far away, Šuker grinned as he watched their passionate celebration.
Even though he didn't score, he was genuinely thrilled.
These guys—finally—were starting to explode!
"Gioani, dribbling into Dinamo Zagreb's half, is he going to play it wide?"
But Dinamo Zagreb's man-marking was excellent, and Gioani couldn't find a passing channel.
Just then, hurried footsteps came from beside him.
The next second, someone closed in.
Gioani tried to shield the ball, but a roar in his ear came at the same time as a powerful shoulder—he lost control.
"Vukojević arrives! Oh!! Gioani is shoved aside, and Vukojević wins the ball! Dinamo Zagreb goes on the counter!"
Vukojević immediately passed it to Šuker.
Modrić was tightly marked, making it hard for Šuker to find an ideal pass.
But Šuker didn't even try to trap it. He let the ball roll ahead with a soft outside touch.
Srna came flying in, taking the ball with him.
Šuker then sprinted into space, drawing defenders.
Srna executed a couple of slick moves, then broke through—cutting inside from the touchline into the penalty area.
"Watch the near post!"
As defenders converged on him, Srna shifted his body and squared the ball to Šuker.
With a defender at his side and no shooting angle, Šuker leapt over the ball, letting it run past him.
The ball rolled right to Duimović at the edge of the box.
Duimović shifted it from his left to his right—lining up the shot—and struck just before the defenders could close in.
A low drive, right through the legs of the defender Rudolf, and into the net.
24th minute: Dinamo Zagreb 2 - 0 Dynamo Kyiv.
At that moment, the entire stadium erupted in thunderous cheers.
They weren't just holding their own—they were dominating and had two goals before halftime.
It couldn't get any better.
"Wow~~~ Duimović finally stops hitting home runs!"
Duimović was stretching his arms out to celebrate when Šuker came racing in with a loud yell, and Duimović roared back, "Shut up!"
The others couldn't help but burst into laughter!
They still remembered that rocket-to-nowhere Duimović launched last season.
Two goals up, Dinamo Zagreb had a massive advantage.
Coach Bešić's chest heaved with emotion, pride welling up inside him.
Watching these confident, spirited kids flying around the pitch, he couldn't help but feel proud.
This is the Dinamo Zagreb I built!
All those critics back then—they must be eating their words now.
Bešić couldn't hold back and laughed heartily.
There was boldness in his laughter.
Commentator Kraušević took a breath.
These kids' performance had been phenomenal.
He couldn't stop shouting and cheering.
At this rate, his head was starting to feel lightheaded.
After taking a moment to steady himself, Kraušević said:"I didn't expect them to play . They've been fantastic! Dinamo Zagreb absolutely dominated the first half!"
But even that was putting it lightly.
It wasn't just "dominating"—they had stormed Kyiv's half.
With two goals in hand, Dinamo Zagreb pulled back slightly to reorganize defensively.
For the next five minutes, until halftime, they focused on holding the score.
Dynamo Kyiv's attacks intensified.
They knew they were in serious trouble—if they couldn't score, the second half could get even worse.
But no matter how hard they attacked, Dinamo Zagreb's flanks held firm.
Especially the right flank—Planić was rock solid.
He never lunged recklessly—only made a move when absolutely sure—and every time he did, Kyiv lost the ball.
Center-backs Štimac and Jarni were experienced and orchestrated a watertight defense.
In those final five minutes, Kyiv got nothing.
As the first half ended and the players walked toward the locker room, the crowd swarmed both sides of the tunnel, erupting in cheers.
"Fantastic football, boys!"
"Keep pushing! Let's dominate the second half too!"
"More goals! More goals!"
"Šuker! It's your turn to score!"
Šuker clenched his fist toward the stands in response.
The players filed into the tunnel, returning to the dressing room.
Dinamo Zagreb's dressing room was buzzing with energy.
"You guys hogged all the spotlight in the first half—second half, I'm going to turn it up!" said Šuker, itching to score.
Srna grinned, "I'll set you up, no problem!"
"You're a real bro!" Šuker gave a big thumbs-up.
Modrić said, "We'll shift our focus to the left wing in the second half. Don't worry, you're the focal point of our attack."
Šuker grinned ear to ear.
Bešić looked around at their cheerful faces, deeply pleased.
From the team's formation to now, these young men had come a long way—progressing rapidly.
Especially in such a harmonious team environment, their performance had been stellar.
Bešić believed: this was their best chance yet to reach the Champions League proper.
Bešić clapped his hands and said loudly:
"No changes to the tactics for the second half."
His expression turned fierce.
"Let's score more! Cement our lead!"
"Let's go to the Champions League!"
As his voice fell, silence filled the room.
A roar of celebration exploded.
Let's go to the Champions League!
Play on Europe's biggest stage!
Clash with the giants!
Face off against world-class stars!
Goal: The Road to the Championship!