After the training session, Luka sat in the locker room, he couldn't believe he was here, part of the Croatian national team, surrounded by players he'd admired for years.
He started mentally cataloging the squad, beginning with the defense. Dominik Livaković was the undisputed first-choice goalkeeper, the backline was anchored by Joško Gvardiol, a young but already world-class center-back. Alongside him, Domagoj Vida. The fullback positions were held down by Borna Sosa on the left and Josip Juranović on the right..
In midfield, Croatia boasted an embarrassment of riches. Luka Modrić, despite his age, remained the heartbeat of the team. His vision, technique, and leadership were unparalleled, he was a ballon d'or winner afterall. Marcelo Brozović played the deepest of the midfield three and Mateo Kovačić rounded out the midfield trio.
The attack was where Luka saw himself fitting in. Ivan Perišić, had been the mainstay on the left for years, but Luka knew his own performances had put him in contention for that spot. On the right, Mario Pašalić while up front stood Andrej Kramarić.
The squad also had no lack in depth with players like Nikola Vlašić, Josip Brekalo, and Mislav Oršić, Lovro Maje, Ćaleta-Car and Borna Barišić all on the bench.
He knew he was talented - probably the second-best player in the squad after Modrić - but he also understood the weight of expectation that came with that status.
Over the next few days, the training sessions intensified. Each day, Luka felt himself growing more comfortable with his teammates and the coaching staff's expectations.
During one particularly grueling session focused on tactical positioning, Luka found himself paired with Ivan Perišić in a drill. Who offered advice on timing his runs and creating space. Luka soaked up every word, realizing that despite his talent, he still had so much to learn.
In another session, Luka Modrić pulled him aside during a water break. "Your vision is exceptional," the captain said, "but sometimes you need to simplify. Not every pass has to be spectacular."
As the training session intensified, Luka found himself paired with Modrić this time in a passing drill. He marveled at the his precision and vision, determined to soak up every bit of knowledge he could. Suddenly, Modrić pulled up short, grimacing as he clutched his hip.
The team's medical staff rushed over, and a hush fell over the training ground. Luka watched anxiously as they examined Modrić, his stomach tightening with each passing moment. Finally, the head physio approached Dalić, speaking in hushed tones.
Dalić's face fell as he turned to address the team. "Luka has suffered a hip flexor strain," he announced, his voice heavy. "He'll be out for at least 8 days, which means he'll miss our three World Cup qualifiers."
As the team dispersed, still murmuring about the impact of Modrić's absence, Dalić approached Luka. "This is an opportunity, young one," he said, his gaze intense. "Be ready."
Luka nodded, his heart racing. He spent the rest of the day in a daze, his mind whirling with the possibilities and pressures that now lay before him.
The night before the first qualifier, Luka lay in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling. His phone buzzed, and he saw his mother's face appear on the screen.
"Mama," he answered.
"Luka, dragi," his mother's warm voice came through. "How are you feeling? Ready for tomorrow?"
"I think so," Luka replied, suddenly feeling like a little boy again. "But Mama, Modrić is injured. He's out for all three matches."
There was a pause before his mother spoke again. "Oh, Luka. That's a big loss for the team. But also..."
"Also a chance for me," Luka finished. "Dalić hinted that I might play a bigger role now."
"Da, da," she said, her voice filled with pride and concern. "It's a lot of pressure, but I know you can handle it. You've worked so hard for this."
"I wish you could be here," Luka said softly.
"Ne brini se, Luka," his mother reassured him. "I'm always with you, even if I can't be there in person. Your father is trying to get time off work to watch the match. He's been telling everyone about you."
Luka chuckled, imagining his father bragging. "Tell him not to worry if he can't. There will be other matches."
"Oh, there certainly will be," his mother agreed. "Many, many more. You're just getting started, Luka."
As they continued to talk, Luka felt a wave of emotion. "Mama," he said suddenly, "I promise, when I get my first big contract, I'll make sure you and father can retire. You won't have to work another day."
He heard his mother's sharp intake of breath. "Oh, Luka," she said, her voice wavering. "You don't have to do that. We're happy as long as you're happy."
"I know, Mama," Luka insisted. "But I want to. You have both have given up so much for me."
The day of the match arrived, and Luka found himself on a flight to Russia. As the plane soared over Eastern Europe, the reality of what was about to happen hit him. "This is my first cap," he kept repeating to himself, a mantra that both excited and terrified him.
The nervousness he felt surpassed even that of the final against Bayern Municht. "Calm down, please," he muttered to himself, trying to steady his breathing.
In the locker room, Dalić pulled him aside for a pep talk. "Luka, you're here because you've earned it," the coach said, his eyes intense. "Play your game, trust your instincts. You're ready for this."
As Luka donned the red and white checkered shirt, he saw his name on the team sheet. Left wing. Starting lineup. Ivan Perišić would be on the right, with Nikola Vlašić in midfield, stepping in for the injured Modrić.
The Otkritie Arena in Moscow was a sea of red, with pockets of Croatian supporters scattered throughout. Luka scanned the crowd, his heart racing. "Not many of our fans here," he thought, feeling the weight of being the away team.
As he stepped onto the pitch for warm-ups, Luka tried to calm his nerves. "Play slow," he reminded himself. "Build confidence. You belong here."
The match was crucial for World Cup qualification. Croatia sat second in Group H with 7 points from 4 games, while Russia led with 9 points from 5 games. A win would put Croatia in pole position for automatic qualification.
Russia's squad was formidable. Goalkeeper Anton Shunin had been in excellent form. In defense, Georgi Dzhikiya and Igor Diveev formed a solid partnership. The midfield was anchored by Roman Zobnin, with Aleksandr Golovin pulling the strings. Up front, Artem Dzyuba posed a constant threat with his physicality and finishing.
As the teams lined up for the national anthems, Luka felt a surge of pride mixed with anxiety. The first few minutes of the match were a blur. Luka found himself playing conservatively, making safe passes, trying to find his rhythm.
He was acutely aware of every touch, every movement. A misplaced pass early on made him wince, but encouragement from Perišić helped settle his nerves. "Keep going, kid," the veteran called out. "You've got this."
As the first half progressed, Luka began to find his feet. He made a few darting runs down the left, stretching the Russian defense. His crosses weren't finding their targets yet, but he could feel his confidence growing with each touch.
At halftime, with the score still 0-0, Dalić pulled him aside. "You're doing well," the coach said. "But I know you have more. Don't be afraid to take risks. We need your creativity."
Those words echoed in Luka's mind as the second half began. He felt a shift in his mindset, a growing belief in his abilities. Then, in the 60th minute, came the moment that would change everything.
A throw-in deep in Croatia's half found its way to Luka. As he received the ball, time seemed to slow down. He remembered all the hours of practice he had been putting in, all the matches that had led to this moment. Suddenly, he wasn't nervous anymore. He was ready.
Luka stopped on the ball, inviting pressure from the Russian defenders. The defenders hesitated, unsure whether to press or hold their position.
In that moment of uncertainty, Luka saw his chance. He made a feint across the ball, causing the two defenders to shift their weight. As they did, a small gap opened up between them. Without hesitation, Luka burst through the space, the ball glued to his feet.
Now in full flow, Luka accelerated past another defender, the crowd gasped as he evaded a sliding tackle with a quick step-over, never breaking stride.
As he approached the penalty area, Luka lifted his head. Time seemed to slow down again as he surveyed the scene before him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Perišić making a diagonal run into the box.
Without hesitation, Luka played a perfectly weighted ball over the top of the Russian defense. It arced through the air, spinning and dipping, meeting Perišić's run perfectly.
The winger met the ball on the volley, his shot rocketing towards the top corner. The Russian goalkeeper, Shunin, launched himself across the goal, his fingertips just managing to tip the ball over the crossbar.
The stadium erupted in a mixture of gasps and applause. Even the Russian fans couldn't help but appreciate the quality of the move. As Luka jogged back into position for the corner, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Perišić.
"Brilliant ball," the older player said, grinning. "Keep that up, and we'll break through soon."
Luka felt a surge of confidence coursing through him. The memory of this game ending in a draw originally flashed through his mind, but he pushed it aside. This time would be different. He was here, he was ready, and he was going to make an impact.
As play resumed, Luka found himself with the ball at his feet more often. His touches became more assured, his movements more fluid.
He received the ball on the left flank, facing two Russian defenders. With a quick step-over, he shifted the ball to his right foot, then immediately back to his left, leaving both defenders wrong-footed. He accelerated past them, his agility allowing him to maintain perfect control even at high speed.
Minutes later, Luka found himself in a tight spot near the corner flag, surrounded by three Russian players. Instead of panicking, he calmly dragged the ball back with his sole, spun around in a tight circle, and threaded a pass between two defenders to a teammate making a run into the box. The move drew applause even from some of the Russian fans.
As the game wore on, Luka's confidence continued to grow. He started taking on defenders more frequently, in one moment, he received the ball with his back to goal, flicked it over his head and the defender behind him, spun around, and collected it on the other side. The defender was left grasping at air.
Not every move came off perfectly. There were times when Luka was muscled off the ball, his slight frame a disadvantage against some of the more physical Russian defenders. But even in these moments, he showed resilience, quickly getting back up and working to regain possession.
His persistence paid off, as he began drawing numerous fouls. The Russian defenders, frustrated by their inability to contain him, resorted to tugging at his shirt or clipping his heels. Each free-kick earned was a small victory, giving Croatia valuable set-piece opportunities.
In the 79th minute, a moment of magic unfolded. A long ball was played forward, and Luka chested it down beautifully, the ball seeming to stick to his body. As it dropped, he capped it with his foot, sending a Russian midfielder tumbling to the ground in his attempt to challenge for possession.
With space now opening up before him, Luka surged forward towards the box. The Russian right-back approached, trying to jockey him to the sideline. Luka had other ideas. With a sudden burst of acceleration, he flicked the ball up and over the defender's head in a perfect rainbow, collecting it on the other side as the crowd gasped in amazement.
Now at the edge of the box, Luka found himself face-to-face with another defender. He sized him up, shifting his weight from left to right, feinting a move inside then out. The defender, trying to anticipate Luka's next move, took a slight step to his left. It was all the invitation Luka needed. With a quick shuffle of his feet, he pushed the ball to the right and accelerated past the wrong-footed defender, who stumbled and fell in his desperate attempt to recover.
Inside the box now, Luka faced the last line of defense. A center-back rushed out to meet him, but Luka was ready. With a deft touch, he pushed the ball through the defender's legs, leaving him grasping at thin air as he collected it on the other side.
Two more defenders converged on him as he approached the goal. Luka shaped his body as if to shoot, causing both defenders to slide in desperately to block. But it was a ruse. Instead of shooting, Luka dragged the ball back with his right foot, leaving both defenders sliding harmlessly past him.
Now, with just the goalkeeper to beat, Luka remained calm. He looked up, saw the keeper edging towards his near post, and with precision, slotted the ball into the far corner of the net.
The stadium erupted. Luka's teammates mobbed him, their faces filled with disbelief at what they had just witnessed. As he was engulfed in a sea of red and white checkered shirts, Luka felt a sense of elation unlike anything he'd experienced before.
As play resumed, with Croatia now leading 1-0, Luka caught sight of Dalić on the sideline. The coach gave him a nod of approval, a small smile playing on his lips. In that moment, Luka knew he had not just scored a goal – he had announced his arrival on the international stage in the most emphatic way possible.
The remaining minutes of the game were a blur of defensive work and counter-attacks. When the final whistle blew, sealing Croatia's 1-0 victory, Luka fell to his knees, overwhelmed by emotion.