The stands were awash with a feverish atmosphere, the scorching heat washing over like waves hitting faces.
Suker stood before the crowd, arms wide open, as if embracing the entire grandstand.
The passion of the Milan fans grew even more intense.
Suker!!! —Suker!!! —Suker!!! —
"Suker! The incomparable Suker! This is the power of the Serie A and Champions League top scorer. Liverpool, can you stop him?"
Crudeli shouted passionately:
"Suker is carrying his excellent form into the final match. Look at his performance — scoring on his first shot, that's a true striker's efficiency!"
"No more tragedy today! Yes! Like Suker said, even if we cry today, they'll be tears of happiness!"
"Throw away all regret and bitterness. Seize a thrilling victory and prove to the world: Milan is Milan! We are the kings of Europe!"
Crudeli waved his arms wildly, his face flushed with fanaticism."Long live Milan!!!!!! —"
In Milan's city bars and homes in front of TVs, fans couldn't hold back their excitement.
They shouted, jumped, and screamed for joy.
A goal just six minutes into the game.
That's Milan's attacking power! Liverpool! What will you use to stop us?
At this moment, AC Milan's morale soared.
Maldini nearly sprinted from the back, wrapping Suker in a bear hug and enthusiastically patting his back.
"Goal! Goal! Goal! Well done!"
When Maldini released Suker, the latter smiled and said, "I told you, we'd win."
Maldini's smile grew even brighter.
He rubbed Suker's head firmly as Milan's players surrounded and backed off.
Gattuso and Nesta also ruffled Suker's hair, while Maldini put an arm around his shoulder. Along the way, Suker exchanged high-fives with teammates.
This precious goal boosted their morale immensely.
For Suker, he knew the 'Istanbul Night' well.
He didn't fully understand what this match meant to Milan's players — the pain and nightmares it carried.
But no matter what, Suker would break it down with the simplest and most direct method: Goal! Goal!
A thrilling victory was better than any psychological counseling.
The past was gone; now they only needed to make up for it.
Since the world wouldn't forget Istanbul Night, they would create an "Athens massacre night" — making Liverpool share the pain.
"Why is no one marking him?"
"Don't just watch the ball, mark the man!"
Liverpool players shouted, hearts pounding.
Gerrard was gasping for air, trying to calm his teammates.
But their emotions were still intense.
In the previous match against Chelsea, they had struggled and spent too much energy.
But that was no excuse.
After all, Milan's matches with Manchester United were even more intense over two legs.
Liverpool's situation was very difficult.
They had to mark Suker closely.
Liverpool was about to restart from midfield.
Their eyes locked onto Suker, their minds consumed by how to contain him.
They had to silence Suker, or else they'd be at a severe disadvantage.
Suker saw the opponent's gaze and knew immediately.
Kaká on the side was eager. "My chance has come."
If Liverpool focused too much on Suker, Kaká would get more space.
"Get ready to surge forward!"
Suker shook his arms. The game's rhythm was going as planned.
The whistle sounded, and play resumed.
Liverpool's goal at six minutes left them extremely passive.
But AC Milan showed no signs of stopping the attack.
After a Liverpool attack failed, Milan launched a swift counter.
As Milan countered, Gerrard yelled.
Most Liverpool players' attention was on Suker.
Mascherano and Alonso closed in on Suker tightly.
But if they focused too much on Suker, the threat on the other flank would explode.
Pirlo launched a long, arcing pass into space on the right.
Kaká immediately burst forward.
Finnan was sweating heavily, trying to grab Kaká but failed.
As Kaká reached the ball, ready to burst forward with speed, Finnan suddenly charged at him.
But Kaká stopped abruptly.
Finnan grazed Kaká's chest and stumbled toward the sideline due to momentum.
Kaká pulled the ball back and cut inside.
"Finnan's defense slipped up!"
Seeing the mistake, Carragher rushed over cautiously.
But Kaká kept dribbling, creating shooting space and fired with his left foot. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on noⅴelfire.net
The ball brushed Carragher's outstretched right foot and flew toward the left goalpost.
Ping! The ball hit the post and bounced out.
Gerrard shouted reflexively.
But when he saw Suker standing motionless on the edge of the penalty area, he froze.
Next moment, his expression changed drastically.
Milan had an assassin.
A ghostly assassin lurking in the shadows, collecting goal after goal.
The hotter the sun, the quieter the shadowed assassin became.
When people spotted him, it was already too late.
Inzaghi burst from the crowd, his run sudden and unnoticed.
Suker and Kaká shone too brightly, their brilliance overshadowing all else.
This allowed the shadow assassin to move freely.
Receiving the rebound, Inzaghi calmly tapped the ball into the net.
Liverpool goalkeeper Reina didn't react at all as the ball flew into the opposite corner.
At the goal, Crudeli screamed ecstatically.
Even more excited than Suker's goal or Kaká's assist.
For Crudeli's generation of fans, they watched Inzaghi grow from youth to superstar, then slowly fade.
The once feared assassin could no longer guarantee a starting spot.
But that didn't erase their memories of those glorious years.
What a familiar chant!
The cry, silent for a whole season, now roaring on the Champions League final stage, rekindled a fire in these old fans' hearts.
Inzaghi's long hair bounced as he ran to the corner flag.
Grabbing the pole, he faced the pitch, shouting loudly.
His hysterical roar sounded both like celebration and release.
At 10 minutes, AC Milan had scored their second goal.
Two goals in ten minutes.
Such a sudden change was hard for Liverpool to accept.
They had fallen behind before, but never so completely or so quickly.
Almost no resistance was possible.
This match, Milan seemed unstoppable.
"Could they not be unstoppable?!"
Suker watched Inzaghi, Maldini, Gattuso, Pirlo, Nesta hugging and cheering, faces ecstatic.
"We've been holding this in for two years!"
Suker smiled with satisfaction, hands on hips.
"Stop showing off! Come here!"
Gattuso grabbed Suker by the collar and pulled him into the celebration.
"Ivan, let me go, you rude ugly beast!"
They hugged together, jumping happily in front of the cameras.
Meanwhile, the stands roared with Milan fans' cheers, filling the stadium with their voices.