The majestic music stirred every listener's heart, and with the beat of the drums, it felt as if the heartbeat was syncing with it.
Suker placed his hand over his chest to calm the turbulent emotions within.
This was the Champions League final!
This was the stage countless players dreamed of.
But being too emotional wasn't a good thing either.
He took deep breaths repeatedly to adjust his emotions.
Suker turned his head to the other side.
He saw the Barcelona players warming up.
Among them, he spotted the football wizard—Ronaldinho.
The ball danced between his feet like an extension of his body. He moved so casually, yet it looked like the ball was glued to him.
Suddenly, the ball flew toward Ronaldinho. He gently pressed his foot down to receive it, and it obediently stuck to his foot without even bouncing.
Suker couldn't help but grin.
That freakish ball control!
Definitely diamond-card level!
I want it!
At the same time, Suker noticed a young figure standing in the corner—a not-yet-mature Lionel Messi.
At this point, Messi was still green and tender.
He stood on the sidelines, gazing at Ronaldinho with eyes full of admiration and longing.
Suddenly, he turned and looked toward Milan's half. His eyes met Suker's.
Suker grinned.
Messi, like a startled fawn, quickly turned his head away, looking shy.
"So bashful!"
Suker suddenly felt like teasing this future Ballon d'Or winner.
"Suker!"
Kaká walked over.
Suker turned to look at him.
"Let's give it our all today," Kaká said, scratching his head with a smile. "I've got your back!"
Suker's eyes lit up.
Kaká was going all in.
"Good brother!"
Suker threw an arm around Kaká's neck.
Soon, the warm-up ended.
The players returned to the locker room.
Suker and the others quickly changed into their red-and-black jerseys, ready for the match.
Once fully kitted up, Maldini strapped the captain's armband onto his arm.
He looked around, then exhaled deeply.
"A lot has happened lately, but I hope it hasn't affected you."
"Now that we're on this stage, we must focus all our energy on the match."
"This is the Champions League final. A year's effort must not go to waste!"
"This match isn't just for us—it's for the millions of Milan fans as well!"
Maldini suddenly raised his voice and shouted, "Let's get fired up, boys!"
"Show your spirit! Win this match!"
"Forza Milan!"
Maldini turned and walked out of the locker room, with Suker and the others following closely.
At the same time, Barcelona's players also walked over.
The two sides met in the player tunnel, locking eyes with sparks flying between them.
At the Stade de France, the atmosphere was electric with fans from both teams roaring passionately.
Two blue drapes hung from the stadium dome, emblazoned with the crests of AC Milan and Barcelona.
Below was the giant UEFA emblem and the iconic Champions League ball symbol.
Tension filled the air.
"Let's go, boys!"
Maldini turned and shouted.
Suker took a deep breath and slapped his thighs, using the jolt to pump himself up.
The Champions League anthem, "Champions League", began to play.
Performed by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and sung by the St. Martin's Choir, the majestic chorus filled the entire stadium, making the night even more magical.
All cameras. All eyes.
Focused on the player tunnel.
Here they come!
Wearing their red-and-black home kits, AC Milan, and in their yellow away kits, Barcelona.
Hand in hand with the child mascots, they stepped onto the pitch under the gaze of the entire world.
The final was about to begin.
As the anthem concluded, thunderous applause echoed throughout the stadium.
Both teams shook hands.
At the same time, the jumbotron displayed the starting lineups:
AC Milan (4-3-2-1):
GK: Dida
DF: Cafu, Nesta, Stam, Maldini
MF: Gattuso, Pirlo, Seedorf
FW: Kaká, Shevchenko, Suker
Barcelona (4-3-3):
GK: Valdés
DF: Oleguer, Márquez, Puyol, Van Bronckhorst
MF: Edmílson, Van Bommel, Deco
FW: Giuly, Eto'o, Ronaldinho
Barcelona fielded a squad in their Dream Team II era, with prime Deco, Ronaldinho, and Eto'o leading the attack.
Xavi, Iniesta, and Messi—key figures in the upcoming Dream Team III—were still on the bench.
"Come on! Let's go!"
Suker shouted repeatedly to boost morale.
He glanced at Shevchenko, who seemed quiet and reserved.
Smack!
Suker slapped Sheva hard on the back.
"Let's do this!!!—"
Shevchenko nearly jumped from the pain.
Suker glared at him, muttering internally:
What a wimp!
He's supposed to be our striker!
Players took their positions as the game was about to begin.
The crowd's cheers reached a crescendo.
Whoosh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!——
The atmosphere turned extremely tense.
"Come on!! Milan boys!!"
"Our defense is rock solid. Don't fear Barca's possession game—just like we beat Arsenal!"
"Forza!! Milan!!!——"
Even the commentator Crudeliwas shouting.
The old man's face was red with excitement. The match hadn't even started, and his heart was already pounding.
Fans in the stadium looked nervously toward the pitch.
Eto'o and Ronaldinho stood in the center circle, ready to kick off.
A moment of silence engulfed the stadium's 80,000 fans.
In that silence, the referee's whistle cut through sharply—
Tweet!!!——
The match began!
The 2005/2006 Champions League Final: AC Milan vs Barcelona—a clash of titans—was underway.
"Let's go!!!"
Suker burst forward, charging straight into Barcelona's half.
He wanted to get his body heated up—to feel the adrenaline.
Kaká and Shevchenko also sprinted forward.
Just like against Arsenal, AC Milan opened with a high-press strategy.
But Barcelona was clearly prepared.
Both wingers dropped back to receive the ball, especially Ronaldinho.
When the ball moved to Barcelona's right wing, Suker sprinted straight at Ronaldinho.
Ronaldinho stepped on the ball and feinted left.
Suker didn't bite.
Ronaldinho smirked, straightened up, and looked to the center before passing.
"Now's the time!"
Suker extended his leg to intercept—
But Ronaldinho's right foot faked over the ball. With a quick push and pull, he nutmegged Suke.
Suker got megged.
He missed the interception and got humiliated. His cheeks flushed.
He quickly turned around to chase the ball.
But Ronaldinho had already passed to Deco and increased his pace forward.
"Captain! Watch him!"
Suker shouted at Maldini.
Just as Maldini approached, Ronaldinho suddenly cut inside.
His movement was smooth and sharp, with his ponytail swaying side to side.
Deco suddenly threaded a through ball—Ronaldinho received it and continued dribbling sideways, using his shoulder to shove Pirlo aside and create space, stopping abruptly to face the goal.
All eyes were on Ronaldinho.
Suddenly, he made a forward pass.
It was sharp and sudden.
But Eto'o's run was even more explosive.
He sped past Stam.
"Offside!!"
Stam raised his hand.
But Nesta was chasing like mad.
"Offside my ass—break it up first!"
Nesta saw Eto'o about to control the ball and went in with a sliding tackle.
But Eto'o flicked the ball up, jumping over the challenge effortlessly.
Suker's jaw dropped.
"No way!"
Eto'o landed, turned, and fired a shot.
The ball pierced through Dida's hands and rattled the net.
The Stade de France fell into stunned silence.
The next second—an eruption from Barcelona fans.
"GOOOAAAAAALLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!——"
The French commentator howled with joy.
The goal ignited wild celebrations from the Barcelona faithful.
They raised their hands, waved flags, and roared.
What a shocking start!
One attack. One goal. A dream start.
Just 4 minutes in, Milan was trailing.
Barcelona struck first, thanks to Ronaldinho's magic.
Assist: Ronaldinho. Goal: Eto'o.
Barca fans went wild.
Milan fans held their heads, stunned in disbelief.
They had conceded.
And it was so effortless!
Their backline had barely reacted!
A foreboding sense of doom crept in.