Once again, it was the stage of the World Cup semifinals.
The entire nation of Croatia was watching with bated breath.
After enduring one fierce battle after another, Croatia was clearly exhausted.
Meanwhile, public opinion from the outside world had begun to form.
Croatian media, due to their limited global influence, could only voice their dissatisfaction and doubts about the scheduling, but it was hard for them to make a big impact.
But soon, Italy stepped in to support them.
Compared to Croatian media, the Italian press held significantly more weight.
La Gazzetta dello Sport was the first to criticize FIFA, calling the scheduling arrangements highly unreasonable.
They claimed that Croatia was likely being targeted by FIFA's scheduling decisions.
Surprisingly, even the English media joined in.
This was unexpected, as no one thought the English press would speak on Croatia's behalf.
However, given their tendency to chase hot topics and stir things up, it was understandable.
With two of Europe's major media forces beginning to shape the narrative, the discourse spread rapidly across the world.
Before long, an invisible storm of public opinion had formed.
FIFA had to quickly respond, denying any manipulation in the schedule.
However, they remained vague about the sudden changes in the knockout stage draw, clearly unable to provide a convincing explanation.
The media latched onto this point, refusing to let go, while FIFA scrambled to come up with a countermeasure.
For now, since Croatia was still competing in the World Cup, it wasn't a huge issue.
But if Croatia were to lose, the resulting uproar could be massive.
After all, following this World Cup—especially the match against Germany—Croatia's incredible ability to gain fans was on full display.
Players like Šuker and Modrić were attracting supporters from all over the globe.
With a combination of individual and team fans, plus the media fanning the flames, this momentum couldn't be ignored.
German and Spanish media also joined the commotion, albeit more subtly.
As beneficiaries of the current system, they couldn't speak out directly and instead chose to republish articles from other sources for the public to chew on.
July 8th, Moses Mabhida Stadium, Durban.
"¡España! ¡España! ¡España!"
"We are the Matador Army!!!—"
Spanish fans flooded in from the left side of the street.
From the right came a massive wave of Croatian supporters.
"Victory belongs to Croatia!"
"Victory belongs to Croatia!"
"Victory belongs to Croatia!"
Thunderous cheers and synchronized chants rang out.
Croatian fans welcomed their country's second-ever World Cup semifinal appearance with unmatched passion.
Both teams' buses arrived under the watchful eyes of the media and their supporters.
Almost simultaneously, the two buses pulled in, giving the fans a rare close-up view of their heroes.
Both sides chanted the names of their players loudly.
In the already sweltering heat, the excitement raised the temperature even further.
Every Croatian fan in South Africa had gathered in Durban, making the atmosphere even more electric.
Even during the short walk from the bus to the stadium, the Croatian players could feel the deafening cheers from their supporters.
"The semifinals really are something else!" Dujmović said while digging at his ear. "It's like my eardrums are going to burst!"
The others nodded in agreement.
The semifinal was on a completely different level from any previous match.
Croatian fans' enthusiasm had multiplied several times over.
Having equaled their best historical finish by reaching the semifinals, this moment was especially meaningful for younger players like Perišić and Lovren.
Lovren, in particular, was not a regular starter in this tournament. Though he had some appearances, his role was more akin to the team's "waterboy."
He didn't yet have the strength to be a starting player.
But this experience lit a fire in him—and in many other young Croatian players—strengthening their resolve to grow.
They didn't want to stay on the bench; they wanted to be part of the team.
They wanted to be one of the eleven starters.
They wanted to stand on the pitch with their Croatian heroes and receive the fans' adoration.
This World Cup didn't just expose them to the atmosphere of the tournament and allow them to accumulate valuable experience—it also planted a deep desire for growth.
Inside the Croatian locker room, Van Stajic directly announced the starting lineup.
Perišić was given a starting role, drawing envy from Lovren and the other young players.
They were the same age, but Perišić had already started multiple World Cup matches and even scored.
The starting players changed into their kits and shorts, ready to head out for warm-ups.
The substitutes followed closely behind.
On the pitch, the cheers remained deafening.
Players from both Croatia and Spain warmed up on opposite sides of the field.
Šuker and the other starters went through thorough warm-ups under the guidance of coaches.
The substitutes warmed up on their own.
Still, none of them dared to be careless.
Anything could happen during the match—they had to be ready to step in at any moment.
During the warm-up, players kept glancing at the opposing side, eyes filled with visible wariness.
In the Croatian commentary booth, the host watched the screen and said:
"This is a pivotal match for Croatia. Unfortunately, due to a red card, Kovač is suspended, and Srna is out with an injury. Their absence could affect us. Mr. Bešić, what's your take?"
The guest commentator, Bešić, looked distracted.
His eyes stared blankly ahead, his mind replaying a phone call he received from Davor Šuker and Zvonimir Boban.
They had asked if he'd be willing to take over as the national team head coach.
Bešić had long served as the head coach of Dinamo Zagreb and was known for his sharp eye in scouting talent.
Šuker, Modrić, Mandžukić, and others had all been brought up under his guidance.
One could say, aside from Bilić, he was the most suitable person to take over the Croatian national team.
He could seamlessly transition into the role.
But he didn't believe he was the right fit.
Bešić understood himself too well—he wasn't the kind of coach who could conquer new territory for Croatia.
He could maintain results, yes, but leading this young squad to a championship? He wasn't sure he had that in him.
So he declined.
But knowing Davor's personality, he wouldn't give up so easily.
Bešić felt a headache coming on.
"Sir? Sir?"
The host called out a few times, finally snapping him out of it.
"Y-Yes!" Bešić coughed and said, "Kovač and Srna's absence puts pressure on our backline. On top of that, even though Vukojević is back from injury, he hasn't recovered his full form. His ball-handling is hesitant, and he's making more mistakes than usual. These are potential dangers."
He paused, then added, "Of course, we're not without our chances. I think our front line is stronger than Spain's. Šuker's scoring efficiency remains high, and he's in great form. If our midfield can provide him with good service, he'll deliver goals."
"So in my opinion, the key lies in the midfield battle!"
The host nodded in agreement and continued with deeper analysis.
Meanwhile, both teams completed their warm-ups and returned to the locker rooms.
"This is the final match before the finals. Win this, and we return to Johannesburg," Van Stoyac shouted. "Give it your all—play a match you won't regret!"
"Come on, lads, show your fighting spirit!"
The Croatian players roared in unison and walked out of the locker room.
At the tunnel, the Spanish players were already waiting.
Šuker glanced over, but didn't see Busquets.
As expected.
Del Bosque feared Šuker targeting Busquets, just like he did during club matches.
Last season's two El Clásico matches saw Busquets perform terribly.
So this time, Del Bosque benched him from the start.
Starting Lineups:
Spain (4-2-3-1):GK: CasillasDEF: Capdevila, Piqué, Puyol, RamosMID: Iniesta, Xavi, Fàbregas, Xabi Alonso, PedroFWD: Villa
Croatia (4-4-2):GK: PletikosaDEF: Ćorluka, Šimunić, Pranjić, KnezovićMID: Rakitić, Vukojević, Modrić, KranjčarFWD: Mandžukić, Šuker
As the national anthems played, Dujmović looked at Spain's midfield and couldn't help but twitch his lips.
"Damn! Four world-class midfielders—Spain's lineup is just insane!"
Xavi and Iniesta were undoubtedly the strongest midfield duo in the world.
Fàbregas was in peak form.
Xabi Alonso had just helped Real Madrid win both La Liga and the Copa del Rey.
This was a championship-caliber midfield.
And they still benched Busquets.
Clearly, Spain wanted to avoid the risk of him being nullified again, while maximizing their own strengths.
Šuker glanced at the Spanish bench at Busquets.
These guys really aren't giving us any chances, huh?
He felt a bit of a headache.
Can't you guys just get overconfident for once?
The media hyped up the Matador Army endlessly—was it so hard to let it get to your heads?
But Del Bosque's calm, cautious nature meant that would never happen.
The players shook hands.
Šuker embraced Ramos, Casillas, and Alonso—his club teammates.
This was the national team; they had to keep things professional.
No matter how close they were at their clubs, someone like Ramos wouldn't hold back from a full slide tackle.
The captains did the coin toss.
Croatia won and would kick off.
The teams took their positions.
Croatia wore their red-and-white checkered home kit.
Spain wore black away kits.
Šuker and Mandžukić stood at the center circle, waiting.
"Wanna charge them at the start?" Mandžukić asked, twisting his waist.
Šuker nodded firmly. "Let's show Spain some fireworks."
He turned back. "Let's go all in!"
The Croatian players all nodded.
If they were going to attack, they couldn't play conservatively.
The backline had been patched as best they could. Whether it would hold was uncertain—Pranjić was an emergency choice and hadn't played much center-back.
In midfield, Vukojević and Modrić would sit deeper.
Šuker trusted their stamina—even if not fully in form, they could still run.
And that's what Spain feared most—relentless pressure.
Croatia would cling to them like glue.
Not letting them hold the ball comfortably. Not letting them pass cleanly.
WHISTLE!The match began.
"The match is underway! It's the 2010 FIFA World Cup semifinal—Spain vs. Croatia!"
"After surviving one knockout round after another, these two teams now battle for a spot in the final."
"Will Croatia prevail, or will Spain get their revenge?"
As the crowd roared, Šuker and Mandžukić charged forward.
Šuker darted straight to the Spanish backline.
Mandžukić surged forward, then suddenly dropped back.
Usually, it was Šuker who dropped deep, but not this time.
Xabi Alonso frowned.
Instead of pushing forward, he gestured to Puyol to stay deeper and mark Šuker, while he moved to cover Mandžukić.
BANG!Modrić launched a long ball forward.
Croatia wasted no time and immediately went on the attack.
Šuker tried to shield Puyol behind him, but Puyol anticipated the move—he stretched out a leg, shoved Šuker aside, and with a lion-like header, cleared the ball away.
ROAR!!!!!!!
Puyol shouted, venting his frustration.
You're using that same trick again?!
Did Šuker think he hadn't learned from those El Clásico matches?
This time, Puyol was locked in from the very start and won the first ball.
Croatia lost possession.
But the offensive storm had begun.
"Press them!"
"Go! Go!!"
"Close them down!"
"Hit them hard!"
Croatian players swarmed forward.
Despite their exhaustion, they charged like warriors.
They were the "Kidney Fighters" after all!
When had anyone seen Croatian players run out of gas?
"Our lads are pressing like madmen—Spain has no choice but to rely on rapid one-touch passing to escape the pressure."
The Spaniards used tight, quick passes to weave through the gaps.
But Croatia didn't relent.
Now it was a battle of toughness.
Who would crack first—Spain under pressure, or Croatia from fatigue?
Mandžukić sprinted nonstop—even when the ball moved, he chased it down like a hound.
"Press! Press!"
"Force errors!"
"Keep pressing!"
Every Croatian player ran like a man possessed—Šuker, Kranjčar, Rakitić, Modrić—all of them were pressing.
"Control positioning! Maintain width! Use the full width of the pitch!" Xavi shouted, trying to calm things down.
But sweat was already forming on his brow.
These Croatian guys just wouldn't quit.
"Danger! Get it out!" he yelled.
Thud!Fàbregas passed to Iniesta, but the pass had just a little too much pace.
As Iniesta tried to control the ball, it popped up.
Šuker's eyes lit up.
"Get him!"
Croatia pounced.
Even the cool-headed Iniesta looked flustered.
He managed to flick the bouncing ball with the outside of his boot toward Xavi.
But it was weak.
Xavi lunged for it, but Šuker came flying in, poked the ball away, and sent it to Rakitić.
Rakitić quickly passed it to a safe area.
Croatia had won back possession through intense pressing.
Panting heavily, Mandžukić took several deep breaths to steady himself.
Spain's technical ability was scary.
Any other team would've been crushed by now.
But somehow, Spain had held on.
Croatia was nearly out of gas.
But finally, Spain made a mistake, and Croatia regained possession.
"Beautiful! Relentless pressing! Right from kickoff, our boys have kept the pressure up, forcing Spain into an error—that's a rare sight. Even with Spain's top-tier midfielders, they still coughed up the ball!"
Van Stoyac clenched his fist on the sidelines.
That's right!
This was the plan.
Croatia couldn't keep this intensity up for 90 minutes.
So the first half had to be decisive.
They had to score early.
It was a do-or-die strategy.
Meanwhile, in the Spanish dugout, Del Bosque rubbed his chin, then raised his eyebrows.
"So that's the plan!"
Suddenly understanding, he walked to the sideline and shouted:
"Xavi! Control the tempo! Slow it down!"
If Croatia was gambling on the first half, Spain would just drag it out.
Their possession game was perfect for that.
And when it came to stalling—there was no team better than Spain.