The atmosphere at Real Madrid's training base was much more harmonious than before.

Perhaps it was due to the final sprint, or perhaps spurred by the championship, everyone, including Mourinho and Casillas, no longer had thoughts of mutual opposition, but instead poured all their energy into the game.

"Two more League matches!"

Srna sat on the sidelines and said to Suker, "As long as we win these two League matches, we can win the championship ahead of time before we meet Barcelona!"

Kaka, who was nearby, suddenly said, "Does La Liga have a tradition? The away team has to line up to welcome the champion team?"

Suker nodded, "La Liga does have such a tradition."

Thinking of Barcelona lining up to welcome them, Suker couldn't help but show a playful smile.

This should be interesting!

The League has now reached the 34th round, and the Real Madrid and Barcelona match is in the 37th round.

Real Madrid leads by seven points.

In other words, as long as Real Madrid wins the 35th and 36th rounds, they can win the La Liga two rounds in advance.

Barcelona's current situation is very passive.

On one hand, they can only pray for Real Madrid to lose.

On the other hand, they also have to ensure the League, Champions League, and Copa del Rey.

For Barcelona, their probability of winning the Champions League is currently higher than winning the League.

No way!

Given Real Madrid's ability, they don't believe Sevilla and Granada can stop Real Madrid.

What's more, in the late stage of the season, Real Madrid will definitely fight even harder.

It can only be said that failing to defeat Real Madrid in the first half of the season's El Clásico led to one step behind, then every step behind.

Thinking of this, Suker couldn't help but slowly exhale.

This intense season is about to end.

Suker will also be able to complete his task perfectly.

For him, this season's tasks were heavy, the pressure was great, and there were also conflicts between Casillas and Mourinho in the middle, but he finally got through it.

"Alright, gentlemen, today's training ends here. Tomorrow, prepare for the away match against Sevilla!"

Mourinho clapped his hands and said simply, then turned and left the training ground.

During this period, his communication with the players became less and less.

Perhaps Mourinho understood that this period was crucial for him, and he didn't want to escalate conflicts and further provoke Casillas.

Of course, this doesn't mean Mourinho admitted defeat; he still believes his approach was not problematic.

Around 3 PM, training ended. After showering and driving to the villa, it was already around 4 PM.

No sooner had Suker arrived at the house than Zorancic and Sukic arrived at the villa.

"What delicious food do you want to eat tonight?"

"That match wasn't your fault, how about I buy you ice cream?"

"Reina! Cheer up!" (His full name is Reina Sukic)

Zorancic walked into the room while coaxing a crying Sukic.

Suker happened to see this scene.

"Lost?"

Upon hearing this, Sukic's small face crumpled, and tears slowly filled his eyes, beginning to fall one after another.

"I will win!"

Leaving a sentence, the little guy directly rushed up to his room on the second floor.

Suker was stunned for a moment.

"What's wrong with him?"

Zorancic sighed helplessly.

"Can't you comfort him? After all, he lost the game."

"What's the big deal!" Suker said speechlessly, "It's just an internal game at a football school, not an official match."

"It's different!" Zorancic looked at Suker and slowly sighed, "Reina is under a lot of pressure."

"Pressure?" Suker blinked.

Zorancic took out chilled water from the refrigerator, gulped down a large mouthful, and slowly exhaled:

"You don't even look at whose son he is. The moment he entered the football school, those coaches looked at him like he was a treasure!"

"He is your child. For those coaches, he will naturally inherit your physical talent. With your example, they will naturally spare no effort to teach Reina!"

Suker nodded, "Isn't this a good thing?"

"The problem lies here." Zorancic sighed, "Suker's child! The pressure of this title is too great. For ordinary children, they mostly only need to lay a good foundation in football school, but those coaches have more stringent requirements for Reina, and even these stringent conditions are taken for granted by them, because he is your child!"

"Because he is your child, Reina must be more outstanding than others!"

"Because he is your child, Reina naturally receives high expectations!"

Suker frowned; he somewhat understood.

"He doesn't need to do this; he doesn't need to put too much pressure on himself!"

"Environmental factors!" Zorancic shook his head, "I know you were under a lot of pressure in youth training back then, but compared to that, Reina isn't easy at all."

"At the very least, if you didn't make it, no one would say anything, but if Reina doesn't perform well, the coaches will show disappointment, because he is your child, and because he naturally has to perform better than other children."

Suker: "He has no talent?"

Zorancic: "No! Reina is very good. Unlike you, he seems to prefer passing, so he plays more in a midfield position. Of course, at this age, positions are not fixed; it's more about honing fundamentals and waiting for future development!"

"However, Reina's mind is very good. At the same age, he is more sensitive to passing lanes and has a different understanding of spatial arrangement. But today they lost, conceding 8 goals to the other side!"

Suker couldn't help but laugh, "He got crushed!"

No wonder he was crying; he was so badly beaten that his mentality collapsed.

"You can still laugh." Zorancic said angrily, "I told you, he's under a lot of pressure!"

Suker waved his hand, "There's nothing to be done. When he chose to enter a football school, this is the pressure he must bear. I believe Sukic can overcome these difficulties."

After a pause, Suker frowned, "Also, his name is Sukic, don't keep calling him Reina!"

"I want to!" Zorancic said unhappily, "That's his nickname! I just like calling him that! And are you really not going to comfort him?"

Suker smiled, he walked into the kitchen, put on an apron, picked up the cleaver on the cutting board, and smiled, "Sometimes communication doesn't need words!"

Half an hour later, Sukic, clutching a bowl as big as his head, was frantically shoveling rice.

At the age of 3-4, it's precisely the time for picky eating.

They naturally have a natural fondness for sweet foods.

And Suker had made a dish that perfectly satisfied a child's taste buds.

fish-flavored shredded pork!

Plop plop!!

Sukic was eating frantically. The little guy couldn't hold chopsticks steadily.

Picking up a piece of sweet and sour fish-flavored shredded pork, mixing it with rice, and then putting it into his mouth, it was simply delicious.

"Another bowl!"

Sukic handed over his small bowl, his mouth greasy from eating.

"Delicious!"

Suker smiled and served Sukic another bowl of rice.

At this moment, Sukic no longer looked as listless as he had been earlier.

Zorancic sat on the sofa, resting his chin on his hand, watching Sukic.

They are truly a family; this little devil is completely under Suker's control.

"I heard you lost the game?"

Suker suddenly said.

Zorancic grinned, bringing up an unwelcome topic!

Sukic's action of shoveling rice paused. He looked up and said, "Next time, I will win!"

Suker: "Have you thought about why?"

Sukic: "The basic skills are too poor. Some of us, they can't even pass accurately. Tomorrow, I've already arranged to train basic skills with Luka and Enzo."

After speaking, he looked up at Suker and said, "Can we use the football field in the yard?"

Suker shrugged, "Why not?"

"Dad is the best! Another bowl!"

"Don't eat anymore! This is already the third bowl!"

"Last bowl! Really, just the last bowl!"

Zorancic chuckled, watching Suker, who couldn't refuse the little guy and walked over to serve more rice.

As the saying goes, every dog has its day!

Suker, who feared nothing and no one, and was stubborn to death, also had someone he couldn't refuse.

But there was no way, who told him it was his own son.

Germany, Baden-Württemberg, Hoffenheim.

This is a Bundesliga team belonging to a village-level subdivision of the capital Sinsheim.

In 2008, this village-level team completed an epic three-level leap in the League, rising from the German Third League to the First League in three years.

They produced excellent players such as Demba Ba and Obasi.

Although Hoffenheim is still in the Bundesliga today, it looks precarious.

They were no longer the Hoffenheim that had taken the Bundesliga by storm, winning the half-season championship and displaying the banner 'Our whole village came to watch!'

In fact, over the past few seasons, although Hoffenheim remained in the Bundesliga, they had been steadily declining, now sitting in eleventh place in the League.

Hoffenheim's home is located 20 kilometers away in Sinsheim.

At the Rhein-Neckar-Arena, a Bundesliga match was underway.

On the field, Šimunić desperately held off the opposing center-forward, but still couldn't prevent the goal.

Whoosh!!

"Goooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal!!!!"

"Nuremberg's number 9 center-forward Pekhart scores a brilliant header! He completed this goal over the head of Croatian veteran Šimunić. This goal for Nuremberg makes Hoffenheim's situation even worse; they might drop from 11th to 12th place in the League."

On the field, Šimunić gritted his teeth and angrily punched the turf.

"Damn it!"

He pursed his lips, exhaled, and turned his head towards the stands, as if searching for something.

And in a corner of the stands, Bešić and Van Stoyak were also looking towards Šimunić among the fans.

"He's in terrible form!"

Van Stoyak frowned and said, "In this condition, it's very difficult for him to be selected for the National Team again!"

Bešić also nodded.

It was hoped that in this European Cup, veterans like Šimunić would still contribute their remaining light, marking a fitting end to their National Team careers.

But the problem was that their form had declined too severely.

The Šimunić of old wouldn't make such mistakes, and his physical ability had severely deteriorated.

Just as Van Stoyak said, it was already very difficult for Šimunić to be selected for the National Team squad again.

After the final whistle, Šimunić greeted his teammates and then walked off the field.

He arrived at a cafe in Sinsheim.

Inside the cafe, Bešić and Van Stoyak were waiting for him.

"Boss! I'm very sorry I couldn't show you my performance. My form has been a bit poor recently, but I can adjust, don't worry, I won't hold you back, and I won't compete with Vida for a starting spot anymore. My form is indeed not quite up to par, but I will work hard."

Šimunić continuously spoke about his situation and determination, his feigned relaxed face etched with a hint of nervousness and a desire to please.

"Josip!"

Bešić interrupted him.

Šimunić pursed his lips; "Boss! Tell me!"

Bešić slowly sighed, he pulled out a document from the side and handed it over.

"This is your performance curve for this season. We've also completed negotiations with Hoffenheim and obtained a detailed physical examination data!" He paused, then Bešić continued; "To be honest, I didn't expect your physical readings to drop so much!"

Šimunić's cheek twitched, he did not speak.

Bešić also did not speak.

After a brief silence, Šimunić slowly spoke.

"I haven't been drinking! I haven't indulged myself, I constantly remind myself, constantly exercise, but my physical quality and form are declining, and there's nothing I can do about it!" Šimunić's voice carried a hint of helplessness.

When years passed and the body entered an irreversible state of decline, he had no recourse.

This was something that training could not compensate for.

Bešić: "Kovac's situation is similar to yours; he plans to play in the Middle East next season!"

Šimunić looked up; "Did he give up?"

Bešić did not speak.

Playing in the Middle East meant entering a retirement phase.

Šimunić pursed his lips; "Can I still be selected for the National Team?"

Bešić was silent for a moment; "To be honest, the hope is very slim!"

The cafe once again fell silent.

After a long while, Bešić slowly said, "Josip, go back to Croatia to play."

Upon hearing this, Šimunić looked up at Bešić.

"Don't even think about this European Cup, your form is not good enough to be selected. You are 34 this year, perhaps there will still be a chance, of course, I'm not talking about the European Cup!" Bešić said.

Šimunić's eyes lit up: "I…I…"

Bešić waved his hand; "I won't give you any special treatment, you have to speak with your performance. The only help I can give you is to let you return to Croatia to play!"

With that, Bešić stood up, Van Stoyak immediately followed, and the two left directly.

After returning to the hotel, Van Stoyak sought out Bešić.

"Are you planning for Šimunić to transition?" Van Stoyak said; "His form is rapidly declining, partly due to declining physical metrics, but more so because the high intensity of Bundesliga matches is constantly destroying his confidence. Šimunić's performance in this match was terrible; even though his physical metrics have declined, this is not the performance he should be delivering. He has been a starter at Hertha Berlin and in Milan, so, you want him to transition, right?"

Transitioning is not just about changing positions, but also about changing styles.

Van Stoyak; "His experience is very rich, but he needs to learn to play with experience!"

Bešić turned his head; "Nothing gets past you!"

Van Stoyak smiled.

Bešić sighed; "Our new generation is indeed good, but they lack too much experience. Although they have the support of Srna and others, and will gain experience from the European Cup, in two years, the World Cup will be a completely different stage."

"We not only need young players, but also experienced veterans. I hope that in two years, Šimunić's experience can help us in critical situations!"

"For this, he must leave the Bundesliga. If he continues to play like this, his form will only get worse!"

Compared to the Bundesliga, the Croatian League's intensity is slightly lower.

It's just right for veterans like Šimunić.

Of course, another reason is that Bešić wants to emulate former figures like Štimac, allowing Bešić to provide some experiential help to these Dinamo Zagreb youngsters, and also to promote Šimunić's style change.

However, all of this still depends on Šimunić's own performance.

If his performance is not up to par at that time, he will still not be selected for the National Team.

Croatia is currently in a very critical period.

Bešić will not miss the opportunity to charge forward because of his pity for these veterans.

After all these years, Suker, Srna, Modrić, Rakitić, Mandžukić, and others are all entering their peak.

This European Cup and the World Cup two years later are extremely crucial moments for Croatia.

Therefore, Bešić does not allow any actions that would hold them back.

Just like Šimunić, once his form declines, it must be immediately cut off.

Although this might be Šimunić's last chance for the European Cup in his career, he also needs to be resolute.

All of this is for the World Cup!

"Let's go to Spain tomorrow!"

"Suker!!!—"

"Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!"

"52nd goal!! Suker's incredible form continues!!"

"Real Madrid 3:1 Sevilla!!"

At the Bernabéu, tens of thousands of Real Madrid fans cheered and roared.

They constantly waved their arms, shouting excitedly.

The 35th round was basically secured.

One more match!

Only one match left!

As long as they win this match, they can win the championship two rounds early!

Then, they can avoid the pitfall of Barcelona and focus all their energy on the Champions League.

Although missing out on the Copa del Rey early on was a bit regrettable.

But a double crown is also very good!

Hala!!!!!!!

Madrid!!!!!!!!—

The cheers swept across the entire stadium!

On the big screen, in the slow-motion replay of Suker jumping and powerfully pumping his fist, the atmosphere of the entire Bernabéu also further intensified.

On the sidelines, Mourinho also clenched his fists tightly.

He was one step closer to implementing his further plan!

As long as he retained the Champions League title this time, Mourinho's prestige at Real Madrid would rise sharply, and his leverage would also increase significantly.

Mourinho's eyes gleamed with avarice.

He was one step closer to controlling Real Madrid!