An uproar erupted from the media stands.
Real Madrid had actually conceded the first goal.
While it wasn't entirely unimaginable, the opposing team wasn't exactly Barcelona with Ronaldinho, was it?
All eyes turned to the young player celebrating in the corner.
The cameras began frantically snapping pictures!
There it was—the perfect front-page headline for tomorrow.
Even if Real Madrid lost the match, this alone would dominate the news cycle for a while.
Of course, no one believed Real Madrid would actually lose this match.
The players of Real Madrid glanced at each other in disbelief.
A goal conceded!Just like that?
Center-back Samuel was furious, but surrounded by the team's superstars, he had nowhere to vent.
"Why did everyone push up so far? The backline was completely exposed!"
He could only grumble to himself.
Dinamo Zagreb had scored first, and the entire Maksimir Stadium erupted in jubilation.
The Dinamo fans were so excited they felt dizzy.
They had fought their way up through the Champions League qualifiers, grinding through every match.
They thought just reaching the group stage was already a huge accomplishment.
But now, these young players had actually scored first—against Real Madrid, no less.
They were making a statement to the world:
"To the fans in the stands—give your loudest cheers to these outstanding young men! Despite the entire world doubting them, they never stopped believing in themselves. This goal is the best proof of that!"
"They haven't given up—so who are we to raise the white flag?"
"Dinamo Zagreb is one big family. We are united!"
"They are making history for us, and we must give them our most thunderous applause and cheers in return!"
In an instant, the stands erupted in raucous celebration.
WHOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH——
Thunderous applause rolled across the stadium.
The fans chanted the players' names, again and again, urging them on.
"See? Isn't this great?"
Suker turned to Duimovic with a grin.
Duimovic took a deep breath, his fighting spirit reignited.
Back on the pitch, the Real Madrid players returned to their positions.
Despite conceding a goal, as top-level professionals and members of a footballing powerhouse, they didn't believe they would lose.
They just needed a few tweaks.
"David, use your long passes more. They like to press aggressively—we need an outlet from the back,"
Zidane said, turning to Beckham.
Beckham nodded. He had always been confident in his passing game.
Dinamo's goal had come quickly.
But Real Madrid's response came even quicker.
18th minute, Madrid won the ball in their own half, and Beckham unleashed one of his trademark curling long balls, sailing over the pitch in a perfect arc—right to Zidane.
"Beckham's signature curve—he draws a rainbow in the sky!"
Zidane cut inside and shot from just outside the box.
The ball slipped between Shtimac's legs and flew toward the left corner.
This time, Glestch couldn't react in time. The ball found the back of the net.
Just six minutes after going down, Real Madrid equalized thanks to a Beckham-Zidane combination.
"That ghost-like individual brilliance!"
Vukojevic had been pressing like a madman, but Zidane still broke free and got the shot off.
This man's talent was off the charts!
"Slide in! Take him out!"
Vukojevic shouted back, "I want to, but there's no good timing to go for a tackle!"
As if tackling Zidane was that easy.
A mistimed tackle could mean a red card and an early exit.
Vukojevic was frustrated but kept adjusting, trying to sync with Zidane's dribbling rhythm.
He was close—just a little more.
"Beckham's rainbow curve is a nightmare, and Zidane's dribbling..."
Kraushevich shook his head.
There was nothing they could've done about that goal. This was the power of Real Madrid.
The match quickly resumed.
Suker returned to the wing.
This time, Roberto Carlos didn't rush in. He stayed tight, shadowing Suker.
Sensing the pressure, Suker knew he couldn't force his way through. He retreated.
"Backtracking again,"
Carlos muttered, annoyed.
Watching Suker drop deep toward the halfway line, Carlos hesitated—he couldn't follow too far.
Meanwhile, Modric and Vukojevic double-teamed Zidane, going all in.
Even with his brilliant technique, Zidane couldn't fend off their relentless pressing.
Vukojevic gave a hard shoulder bump.
Modric cut off Zidane's turning path and stuck a foot in.
He tried to pass, but the next second, Vukojevic gave another shove.
This time Zidane lost control of the ball, and Modric snatched it away.
Seeing Suker signal for the pass, Modric didn't hesitate—he passed immediately.
The ball reached Suker, who had space around him.
Carlos approached cautiously, afraid of being burned by a sudden burst.
Suker gently nudged the ball forward, then whipped his right leg back and smashed the ball with the outside of his foot.
I can draw a rainbow too!
The ball zipped along the ground, hugging the turf. It curved beautifully around Beckham and the center-backs, landing perfectly in the open space on the right.
Valajevic was already on the move, sprinting to the spot and whipping in a low, bouncing cross.
In the middle, Mandzukic battled Elguera, shoulder to shoulder.
Seeing the cross, Mandzukic powered forward, gaining a slight edge, then leaped with full force.
"Mandzukic!! Diving header!! This ball...!"
Mandzukic's forehead slammed into the ball, bouncing it into the turf.
It skipped up and snuck between Casillas' outstretched leg and arm, into the net.
Dinamo Zagreb took the lead again.
"OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!——"
"Another goal!!!!!!!——"
Kraushevich grabbed his head, utterly stunned.
Even the referee froze for a second before pointing to the center circle to confirm it.
Dinamo Zagreb 2:1 Real Madrid.
"This is unbelievable! Sure, Mandzukic's diving header was spectacular, but Suker's pass—what a masterpiece!"
"Just moments ago, Beckham drew a rainbow in the sky—"
"Now Suker draws one on the ground!"
"Beckham's curve and Suker's rainbow pass—what a dance!"
"This match is so breathtaking, you don't want to miss a second!"
"But the most thrilling part," Kraushevich shouted, "WE'RE IN THE LEAD AGAIN!"
The traveling Real Madrid fans stared in shock.
What were they witnessing?!
They knew the Beckham curve all too well.
But Suker's ground-hugging curler was a revelation.
Two completely different, yet equally magical passes had just blown their minds.
They even started applauding—almost forgetting their own team had conceded.
Suker, Modric, Mandzukic, Vukojevic—they huddled together, arms around shoulders, jumping and celebrating. Read full story at NoveI-Fire.ɴet
All eyes, all cameras, were fixed on these young men.
The first goal could be chalked up to luck or Madrid underestimating them.
But this second goal?
A dazzling, curved ground pass leading to a diving header?
The Spanish TV commentator stared blankly at the screen.
"Guys, I've got a bad feeling about this..."
Two years ago in the Champions League, another young Dutch team had done the same thing...
Davor Šuker's mouth was shaped like an 'O'.
He couldn't close it.
He stared at the scoreboard reading 2:1.
He rubbed his eyes to make sure.
"I'm not seeing things, am I?"
He muttered, "We're actually in the lead?"
Boban, beside him, was visibly shaken.
"No mistake, Davor. We are leading. These kids are incredible."
"Incredible? More than that—they... they... they…"
Šuker struggled for words.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Sure, Real Madrid had their issues.
But this was still Real Madrid!
And these kids had just scored two goals—and taken the lead again.
What an incredible feat.
Against Ronaldo, Zidane, Beckham, Figo—all those superstars.
The Dinamo players never flinched.
They seized every opportunity and put the ball in the net.
Even now, Davor Šuker found it hard to believe.
If even he was stunned, imagine coach Beseć.
He knew this team. He knew these players.
They weren't this good before.
But in this match, their performance and energy had stunned even him.
Perhaps this was the result of years of preparation.
Or maybe the Champions League qualifiers had forged them.
This Dinamo team had transformed.
They were more resilient, more cohesive, more united than ever.
And it all culminated in two absolutely classic goals.