"Getting scolded while on vacation too?"
Duimović looked devastated.
Yesterday, their vacation photos at sea had appeared on major European media outlets.
This group of "Youth Storm" players reunited again naturally drew attention.
However, unlike the universally praised Suker, Mandžukić, and others, Duimović got completely roasted.
"Playing this badly, and you still have the nerve to vacation?"
"Get back to training!"
"You're the worst transfer ever!"
"Idiot! Signing you was a stupid decision from the start!"
These were some of the comments flooding YouTube, one of the most popular video site at the time.
Suker scratched his head.
"That bad?"
Duimović's negative comments were nearly overwhelming.
"Dude, don't let it get to you. Keep your mindset steady."
Srna patted Duimović's shoulder in consolation.
They could joke around, but none of them wanted anything bad to happen to him.
Duimović sighed, "Ever since that injury, everything's changed."
"You mean the Roy Keane incident?" Mandžukić asked, scratching his head.
Many players have had their careers derailed by injury, and Duimović had developed some psychological issues after his own, which was now affecting his performance.
For any player, confidence is key.
But Duimović had clearly lost confidence in his shooting.
Before, even if his shot flew into the stands, he would still shoot without hesitation.
Now, he played much more cautiously.
He didn't dare shoot anymore.
That's a huge problem for a footballer.
And this also affected things like team trust and tactical importance—it's a vicious cycle.
"Right now, I'm basically the only one still passing to him," said Vukojević. "As soon as he touches the ball, the crowd starts yelling for him to pass it immediately. It's crushing his confidence even more."
Suker turned to Duimović, "What are you going to do about it?"
Duimović sighed again, "I'll try to adapt for this season. If it still doesn't work, I'll have to transfer."
Suker nodded.
Leaving and proving oneself at another club could be a good way forward.
"Keep your chin up!" Suker patted his shoulder.
If they were still at Dinamo Zagreb, they could have helped him more.
But now that they were all in different clubs, there wasn't much they could do.
Some things, you just have to go through and overcome on your own.
"Forget all that for now." Duimović shook his head. "Let's just enjoy the vacation—we'll figure things out when we get back."
Suker grinned, "That's the spirit! I saw a racetrack nearby—want to go check it out?"
"Let's go!"
"Off we go!"
"GOGOGO!"
The group quickly cheered up and set off again.
The racetrack was located behind their hotel. Ibiza isn't a big island, and walking down the street, you'd see lots of people in bikinis and board shorts.
The guys were dressed like that too.
"Can we ride the horses?"
"Watch out for the stirrups!" Suker scolded. "If you get hurt again in your condition, forget about the second half of the season. Be smart, will you?"
"If we can't ride, what are we even doing here?" Duimović complained.
They had arrived at the racetrack.
Suker pointed toward a stable where an old man was working on a horse's hoof.
"Sweetie, don't let love cloud your judgment. You must maintain your independence. You can't rely entirely on a man…"
Gisele Bündchen was walking with Mia.
Their tall, slender figures drew admiring glances from every man on the street.
But their commanding presence scared off most of them. Few dared approach.
After spending the day together, Gisele and Mia had become fast friends.
Gisele was the definition of a strong, independent woman.
As Suker put it, "She makes way more money than me—like, dozens of times more."
Mia laughed, "I don't think he's that type of guy."
Gisele smirked, "You're too naive. Men can't control their eyes. Especially in a place like this—their eyes are always on other women."
"One time, some tramp made a move on my guy while I just stepped out to get coffee. I didn't find out until much later."
Mia chuckled, "I don't think he's like that."
Gisele replied, "Men are all the same. Like right now—I bet they're checking out other women while we're running late."
But then she stopped mid-sentence.
They had arrived at the racetrack.
Gisele spotted Suker and his crew gathered in front of the stable, standing or squatting, intensely focused on something.
"What are they doing?" she asked, confused.
Mia blinked, also unsure.
As they got closer, Gisele realized the group was watching the old man repair the horse's hoof.
They were completely engrossed, even smiling.
Five grown men, totally silent, staring in awe.
Gisele looked toward the street, where beautiful women in bikinis passed by constantly.
And yet these guys hadn't even glanced their way.
They were just fascinated by the horse's hoof?
What kind of weird hobby was this?
"Hey!" she finally called out.
Suker and the others turned around, frowning as if annoyed by the interruption.
Suker even put a finger to his lips and shook his head.
Then, all five turned back around and urged the old man to continue.
"Keep going!"
"Don't stop!"
"This is so satisfying!"
"Trim a little more on that side—it'll look perfect!"
Gisele stood frozen. Her worldview had just been shattered.
Pfft! Mia burst into laughter.
"You still think they're the cheating type?" she teased.
After a long silence, Gisele muttered:
"…They don't even have the brains to cheat."
Later, in the racetrack stands:
"Watching hooves being trimmed at a racetrack?" Gisele said incredulously.
Suker turned to her sincerely, "It's really interesting!"
Srna added, "Very therapeutic."
Mandžukić chimed in, "So relaxing."
Duimović: "Makes all the criticism feel irrelevant."
Vukojević whispered, "You should try watching—it's healing."
Gisele turned away.
Not happening!
Mia giggled behind her hand, "Just ignore them. They're all nuts."
Gisele hugged her and sighed, "I feel like my nearly 30 years of life, my values, everything has been shaken to the core today."
"You overthink things." Mia smiled. "That's not bad—it means you're careful. But here, you don't need to be. They're a pure bunch. Even if they mess up, it won't be that bad."
Gisele nodded, "Yeah… anyone who's this into hoof-trimming probably isn't evil."
Suker was sipping from a straw as Srna asked:
"You're leaving tomorrow?"
"Yep," Suker nodded.
"Too bad. If you could stay five more days, you could go straight back to your club after vacation."
"I need to stay on schedule," Suker replied.
"What schedule?"
Srna blinked, then realization dawned.
"Good luck!"
"You guys going to Turkey? Take me with you—I want to see the hot air ballo—"
Srna pushed Duimović's face down.
"If you want to go, go yourself! Don't crash their romantic trip!"
Later that night, Suker and Gisele packed their things for Turkey.
The airport was close by, and there were direct flights to Istanbul.
Very convenient.
By 11 p.m., they had already checked into their Istanbul hotel.
They planned to visit Cappadocia the next day.
"Two suites," Suker said.
"One suite," Gisele countered from behind him.
He turned around.
This woman had to argue with him about everything.
"Not willing?" she raised an eyebrow.
"One suite!" he replied firmly. Then, with emphasis: "Please!"
It was a large suite with multiple rooms.
Suker didn't push anything—he was letting things unfold naturally.
Gisele liked that feeling too.
After a long journey, they were exhausted, and went to sleep early.
When they finally arrived in Cappadocia, they looked like overstuffed bears.
"You didn't check the travel guide before coming out?" Gisele asked.
"I thought they flew balloons all year!"
The place was a snowy wonderland.
Thick snow, bitter cold.
They had completely forgotten it was winter after lounging in Ibiza.
"And now?" Gisele asked, bundled up in layers of down jackets.
"Well, we're already here," Suker shrugged. "Let's explore!"
They walked down a slope and came upon a football field.
Suker, being who he was, was instantly drawn in.
Despite the weather, many young players were training.
"They practice even in this kind of cold?" Gisele asked.
"Academy training doesn't get breaks," Suker replied.
He walked closer.
This wasn't just training—it was a selection trial.
Kids from all over were fiercely competing.
Parents stood on the sidelines yelling.
"Stay with him! Don't fall behind! Yes—great job!"
One particularly loud bearded man caught Suker's attention.
He turned to look, the more he saw, the more familiar that face seemed.
"Wait… is that him?"