"The match had just started when French player Vieira pressed Suk down, preventing him from making a move."
Suker continued his run to the front, turning his head to look.
Sure enough, Vieira was staring right at him.
Suker understood—Juventus likely had a plan specifically targeting him.
Especially using this Premier League enforcer to physically press and overpower him.
Suker's ability to hold his own had improved, sure, but against a top Premier League defensive midfielder like Vieira, that kind of pressure and physicality was still too much.
Now, Suker understood why Pirlo had told him to pass the ball more.
When Pirlo passed him the ball a second time, Suker had learned his lesson.
He didn't try to dribble—instead, he made a quick one-touch pass.
Sure enough, Vieira came close again, but seeing the ball had already been passed, he couldn't act further.
Taking advantage of this moment, Suker ran toward Rui Costa to request the ball.
Rui Costa was about to be surrounded but lobbed the ball out.
Suker used his thigh to softly control the ball, then sat his body back slightly.
Immediately, a force slammed into him—but this time, with his lowered center of gravity, Suk held his ground.
Holding off Vieira, Suker quickly returned the ball to Pirlo.
Pirlo stepped forward and passed it out to Seedorf on the flank.
Seedorf started dribbling and accelerating down the wing.
"Seedorf! Pushing forward! Pessotto slides!"
Seedorf leapt to avoid the tackle, but Pessotto still managed to tap the ball and passed it down the sideline.
As Ibrahimović received the ball, Maldini rushed up.
They clashed and both fell in a tangle.
The ball landed at Trezeguet's feet.
Just as he was about to turn, Gattuso came in with a brutal sliding tackle, sending him to the ground.
"Hey!"
Trezeguet raised his hand, signaling a foul, but the referee crossed his arms and didn't even blow the whistle.
"Send it over!"
Suker shouted from the front line. Hearing him, Stam sent a long ball.
Before receiving it, Suker turned to glance back.
Sure enough, Vieira was charging at him again.
Suker looked up at the ball and, at the moment he controlled it, subtly flicked his right foot, letting the ball roll forward a few meters.
Then, using his landing right foot as a pivot, he tried to spin and sprint around Vieira.
But Vieira, experienced as he was, held Suker's chest with one hand, preventing him from turning or starting a run, while signaling his teammates to intercept.
As expected, Pessotto rushed over and passed the ball to Nedvěd.
Just as Nedvěd received the ball, Gattuso charged again, tackling both man and ball to the ground.
"Keep going! Bastards! Don't you love fouling? Bring it on!"
Gattuso stood up and shouted at Juventus.
Vieira angrily stormed over.
The two pressed their foreheads together.
One was a former Premier League brute, the other a wild man of Serie A.
These two could do anything.
Fortunately, Maldini was nearby and stepped in to separate them.
With Maldini's status, even Vieira had to back off.
The match was growing more and more intense!
Fifteen minutes in, no goals, but multiple confrontations had erupted.
The tension was building.
So far, Suker hadn't had a single comfortable touch of the ball. Vieira was marking him tightly, and Suker needed to find a way to shake free.
But fortunately, AC Milan wasn't Dinamo Zagreb.
When Suker was in trouble, others could step up.
"Seedorf, once again breaking down the left! He's very aggressive today. Suk is following into the middle. Seedorf crosses—Suker... backheel! Inzaghi! This ball—"
Inzaghi was tightly marked by Zambrotta and couldn't break free or reach the ball.
He got up and stomped in frustration.
"Inzaghi was tied up, but Suker's imaginative backheel pass was genius! Everyone thought he would shoot, but at that moment, he nudged and let it roll to the right side near the far post. If Inzaghi had gotten through, that would've been it!"
Suker looked back at Inzaghi missing the shot and grinned wryly. Then he turned to Seedorf and shouted:
"Clarence! Keep going! You're the best!"
Seedorf gave him a thumbs up.
Even though his own dribbling was top-class, Suk's imaginative backheel pass was impressive too.
Seedorf was riding high today.
He was constantly a danger on the flank.
Keep pushing!
"Seedorf again! Driving down the left! He passes to Rui Costa in the half-space. One-two pass! Seedorf receives—goes for the curler!"
"The shot..."
The ball curled toward the goal and clanged off the crossbar.
Seedorf's flanking assault was becoming a real problem for Juventus.
"Seedorf! Go, go, go!"
"Seedorf! You're amazing!"
Suker cheered loudly from the right side.
Vieira kept glancing toward the left—he was getting shredded.
Suker watched him.
You're still watching me? Not gonna go help the left side?
Eventually, after another Seedorf dribble and tight-angle shot threatened the goal, Vieira couldn't sit still anymore.
He ran over to the left—and Suker was finally free.
"Finally shook him off! Seedorf! You rock!"
Suker muttered to himself.
Now that Vieira was gone, Suker was free to move.
He didn't rush to ask for the ball. Let Seedorf keep charging—a good way to continue distracting Juventus and besides, Seedorf was on fire.
No need to kill his momentum.
Seedorf kept attacking down the wing.
But after wave after wave of attacks, his stamina was starting to dip, and Juventus was beginning to shift their defense that way. With no clear threat on goal, Seedorf began to get a bit frustrated.
Then, he saw Suker quietly sneaking near the top of the penalty area—completely unmarked.
You're just going to leave him alone?
Before anyone noticed, Seedorf crossed.
The ball curled outward toward the middle.
"Watch Inzaghi!"
"He can't reach it!"
As Juventus defenders locked in on Inzaghi, the ball flew toward the edge of the box.
"Mark him—"
Before they could finish the word "mark," their eyes widened in shock.
Suker leapt into the air at the top of the box.
His body twisted sideways, legs forming a scissor kick, stretched out to the max.
A textbook volley posture.
"Watch out!!!"
Juventus players screamed.
At San Siro, AC Milan fans gasped.
Suker had been quiet for a while—but now he reappeared with a stunning volley attempt.
And from this distance...
"SUKER!!!!—"
Commentator Aldo Serena roared.
All eyes were on Suker.
He looked like a giant hawk, core muscles bracing mid-air, swinging his left foot fiercely.
His foot struck the top of the ball, driving it down toward the turf. It bounced, grazed Inzaghi's ankle, deflected—into the goal.
Suker fell.
Inzaghi froze for a moment, then raised both hands and sprinted toward the corner flag.
"Inzaghi! You bastard!"
Suker, groaning from the pain in his groin, turned and shouted:
"That was my goal!!"
But Inzaghi didn't care—he celebrated wildly.
According to the rules, it touched him—so it was his goal.
Suker was furious.
Such a gorgeous volley—ruined by Inzaghi's touch.
Unacceptable!
But his teammates quickly swarmed him.
"Hahaha! You rascal!!"
"Nice job, Suker!"
"That shot was amazing!"
The "fake" scorer, Suker, was buried under teammates.
The "real" scorer, Inzaghi, celebrated alone in the corner.
Didn't matter if no one was with him—as long as the goal counted.
Getting a touch is a skill too.
"Inzaghi's goal..."
Commentator Aldo Serena chuckled helplessly.
If he were Suker, he'd be ready to strangle Inzaghi.
Such a beautiful strike—if not for Inzaghi's touch, it could've been a goal of the season contender.
This epic volley combo—turned into a comedic goal.
Then again, without the deflection, it might not have gone in at all.
Still, enough to leave Suker frustrated!
"Despite the surprise nature of the goal, congratulations to AC Milan—thanks to Inzaghi's goal, they lead Juventus!"
Aldo Serena stressed "Inzaghi's goal" for comedic effect, drawing laughter from Milan fans.
If Inzaghi hadn't touched it, it would've made the top 10 goals of the season.
Now? Probably made the top comedy goals chart instead.
Suker had every right to be upset.
As for Inzaghi—he was thrilled with his lucky goal!
AC Milan's sneaky assassin, stabbing even his own teammate!
Maybe that's a special assassin skill.
Doesn't matter how it went in—as long as it did.
That's what makes it so maddening.