"This is AC Milan! "
"After the nightmare of Istanbul, Milan once again launched an assault for the Champions League title the following season—and they've claimed the crown!"
"From the group stage all the way to the final, Milan faced challenge after challenge. Their warriors never compromised. They conquered everything and now stand atop the European stage!"
"In this Champions League final, they delivered an outstanding performance!"
"Although they were down by two goals in the first half, they turned things around in the second half, scoring three goals and claiming the ultimate glory!"
"Yes! The night in Istanbul is now history. The Milan of today no longer fears the past!"
"As for Barcelona, they played an exceptional first half, but were soon overwhelmed by a reinvigorated Milan."
"We can't say Barcelona played poorly—in fact, they were outstanding!"
"But there was one madman in Milan's lineup who drove everyone wild!"
"We must talk about Suker!"
Crudeli's face flushed with excitement as he waved his arms and showered Suker with praise!
In this match, Suker was undoubtedly the standout player.
When Milan was in trouble and desperately needed a hero—
Maldini, Pirlo, Gattuso, and even Shevchenko were silent, but in that moment, Suker stepped up.
An unexpected hero—but one who made it all the more exhilarating.
The old guard must eventually fade.
No one can stop that.
But young Suker seems to symbolize Milan's future.
In the camera shot, Suker was wearing his Champions League gold medal and shouldering the trophy, walking with the swagger of a man who fears no one.
With the trophy under one arm, he swung the other freely, raising the cup as he passed the stands.
No one tried to take the trophy from him.
Every Milan player knew—Suker had won it.
"This was an unbelievable match, filled with surprises. Honestly, we didn't play well in the first half, but we adjusted and came back strong in the second half."
Maldini, facing the cameras, was beaming with joy.
He waved his hands passionately, as if it could help him express his feelings more clearly.
"Andrea, Tusso, Pirlo, Kaka, Suker... They're all Milan's future. Watching these young men, I feel reassured. I'm grateful to them—at the end of my career, we've won a Champions League together! I think this title gives my career a perfect ending."
Before he could finish speaking, Suker suddenly barged into the shot.
His sudden appearance startled the reporters.
He burst in without warning, and Maldini instinctively held the trophy tighter.
Suker turned to the camera, jumping with excitement:
"Champions! Champions! Champions!"
Soon, Gattuso, Pirlo, Kaka and others joined in.
They pushed Maldini out of the frame and shouted in excitement.
Gattuso even kissed one of the male reporters in his joy.
The reporter wiped off the kiss in disgust.
But Gattuso wasn't done—he rushed toward a female reporter.
She backed away in alarm.
Suker and the others quickly dragged Gattuso away.
AC Milan's players laughed and joked as they walked into the tunnel, basking in applause.
On the other side, Barcelona players like Ronaldinho and Eto'o wore looks of dejection.
They'd had a great chance to win the match, but they blew it.
Van Bronckhorst looked especially dazed.
This match had hit him hard.
To be destroyed on the grand stage of a Champions League final—
He became a stepping stone for Suker's rise to fame.
Van Bronckhorst tried to stop Suker—but he just couldn't. He couldn't even keep up.
No one from Barcelona spoke to him. No one comforted him.
Yes, losing is a team responsibility.
But being exposed one-on-one like that—some blame is inevitable.
Especially since they had the advantage, until Van Bronckhorst's poor performance ruined everything.
What does a Champions League final feel like?
For Messi, it was suffocating.
Even though he didn't play, he still felt the sting of defeat.
One by one, the Barcelona players filed into the locker room. No one spoke. They sat down in silence.
Eto'o, furious, smashed a water bottle—,
The air was heavy. Oppressively silent.
Only the players' breathing—rapid, or long and slow—could be heard.
Everyone had their heads down.
Even Ronaldinho, usually the cheerful one, was silent.
Messi hated this feeling.
Or rather, he hated the feeling of losing.
Please!
Someone say something—anything!
But no one did. The silence remained.
In contrast, the Milan locker room was full of noise and celebration.
Champagne had been brought in by the staff, and Inzaghi and Kaka grabbed bottles and sprayed them everywhere.
Soaked in champagne, the Milan players danced and jumped around.
"Champions! Champions! Champions!"
"We are the champions!!!—"
They chanted loudly, again and again.
After such a fierce battle, winning the title—nothing felt better.
Suker was yelling joyfully when suddenly someone grabbed him under the arms and lifted him.
It was Maldini and Gattuso—one holding each of Suk's legs.
Maldini shouted, "Who was today's biggest hero?"
"Suker!!!—"
"Who broke the deadlock for us?"
"Suker!!!—"
"Who brought us the trophy?"
"Suker!!!—"
"How should we reward him?"
Before he could answer, champagne bottles aimed at Suk opened up—soaking him in a shower of foam.
Players, coaches, and staff all raised their arms and cheered:
"Suker! You're a legend!—"
Suker's performance in this match earned everyone's approval.
He was without doubt the key to victory.
Shevchenko stood among the crowd, a little awkward.
As the team's star striker, his performance in the final was lacking.
He'd disappeared in the first half.
And after he was subbed off, Milan made their comeback.
Sure, they won the Champions League—
But it didn't feel like he had much to do with it.
He felt like he just rode along for the trophy.
So even in celebration, Shevchenko didn't look completely comfortable.
Smack!
Someone patted him on the back. He turned to look.
It was Ancelotti, smiling at him.
"Don't worry about it. Even if you didn't shine in the final, no one can deny how well you played from the group stage to the semi-finals."
Ancelotti reassured him: "I've always said we're a team. We can't always rely on one person."
"You carried us to the final, then handed the baton to Suker—this was a team effort, a shared triumph!"
Apart from the final, Shevchenko had performed brilliantly throughout the tournament.
He also won the Champions League Golden Boot.
Even if his final was subpar, no one would blame him.
Hearing Ancelotti's words, Shevchenko slowly relaxed.
He laughed and threw himself into the crowd, joining the celebration.
Ancelotti smiled as he watched, though his eyes carried a trace of bitterness.
"Let's enjoy the moment—for tomorrow, the trouble begins again."
With the Champions League final over, the Italian prosecutor's office was set to begin formal indictments.
The Calciopoli scandal was coming to a head.
No one knew how it would turn out.
Even Ancelotti only had a vague idea.
But it was enough to stop him from smiling too widely on this day of triumph.
The 2005/2006 UEFA Champions League final had concluded.
At the Stade de France in Paris, AC Milan came from behind to score three goals and claim the Champions League crown!
Unlike last season, when they were reversed by Liverpool—
This season, Milan returned the humiliation—against Barcelona!
Though they lost the Serie A title, the Coppa Italia, and the Italian Super Cup—
They won what they wanted most:
The Champions League!
And now, Milan and Suker were the hottest names in football.
At the same time, the wave of the World Cup was approaching fast.
The 2006 FIFA World Cup in Germany was about to begin.