The All-Around Center Forward

"I don't think I need to introduce him, right?"

Raúl pointed at Suker and smiled, "Starting next season, Suker will be one of us. Let's give it our all for the new season."

There was no lengthy introduction—Suker wasn't just any new signing. He had long passed the stage of needing to prove himself.

His strength and dominance on the field were evident to all.

Aside from players who directly competed with him for position, the rest of the team welcomed him warmly.

After all, with a superstar striker joining, the team now had real hope for the upcoming season.

"Suker! Over here—this is your locker!"

Casillas waved him over. Suker's locker was right beside Casillas.

A quick glance—Casillas on the left, Sergio Ramos on the right. Suker was surrounded by the Spanish core.

At this point, Real Madrid had few real cliques within the locker room.

With the likes of Van Nistelrooy, Robben, and Sneijder cleared out by Florentino Pérez, the Dutch contingent was essentially dissolved, leaving the Spanish players as the dominant group.

Even though Suker was now one of the club's most prized stars, as the saying goes, "A strong dragon can't suppress a local snake." So he warmly accepted the Spanish players' gestures of goodwill.

"Your Spanish is pretty good."

Casillas looked impressed.

While changing into his training kit, Suker replied:

"I started learning Spanish and English before signing."

"You were considering the Premier League?" Casillas asked in surprise.

Suker shrugged:

"At the time, anything was possible. But I'm glad I ended up at Real Madrid."

"You made the right choice, I promise," Casillas grinned.

Thanks to Casillas taking the lead, Suker quickly integrated into the locker room and met many of the Spanish players.

Others, like Pepe, also came over to greet him.

Suker was a bit surprised—he'd always thought of Pepe as a hothead who didn't respect anyone.

But from this encounter, his opinion changed a little.

Though clearly temperamental, Pepe wasn't brainless. Otherwise, he wouldn't have survived in Madrid's locker room.

Suker also spotted the other new signings—Xabi Alonso, Benzema, and Higuaín.

Higuaín kept to himself, sitting quietly in a corner.

Benzema looked eager to socialize but didn't quite know how to break the ice—he kept glancing at Suker.

Xabi Alonso, on the other hand, integrated easily—already part of the national team, he had existing connections.

And so, in this kind of atmosphere, the first day of training for the new season began.

Before the start of training, Coach Pellegrini gathered the team for a talk.

"First, let me say this: in the new season, we need to show even greater fighting spirit. The club has invested heavily this summer. That's a signal that we expect to win more trophies. I believe in your abilities to deliver."

Pellegrini's slightly messy, salt-and-pepper hair bounced as he spoke—his voice full of energy, brimming with conviction.

"Let's start with the warm-up!"

Under the guidance of the fitness coaches, the squad began light jogging around the pitch.

The warm-up was relaxed at first.

But soon it was time for intensive fitness training—sprint drills.

Two players per group, sprinting at full intensity.

"Ready? Go!"

Benzema and Higuaín exploded forward, both reaching top speed, clearly competing with one another.

Suker was locked in as the starting striker—that was already a given.

So Benzema and Higuaín were competing for the second striker position.

Next up: Marcelo and Pepe.

The young Marcelo, still innocent and wide-eyed, looked full of youthful energy.

He was slightly faster than Pepe, but not by much.

Suker noticed that during the return sprint, Pepe was gritting his teeth and glaring at Marcelo's legs.

Suker had no doubt—if Pepe got frustrated, he might genuinely go in for a slide tackle.

After all, brawls during training weren't out of the norm for Pepe.

Third group: Suker and Raúl.

No one knew why Pellegrini paired them together.

At the starting line, Suker took off like a rocket.

His explosive speed immediately gave him a half-body lead—then it kept growing.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!His strides were rapid, feet tapping with lightning speed.

The visual impact of his sprint was stunning.

On the way back, Suker had pulled 3–4 body lengths ahead of Raúl—a decisive gap.

Raúl returned to the starting line and slowly exhaled, clearly discouraged.

Technique can be trained.Tactical awareness can improve.But physical ability? That can't be reversed.

Suker was still rising—he hadn't even peaked yet.

Raúl, on the other hand, was already on the decline.

And the gap in physical ability would only widen with time.

"Run!""Run!""Keep running!"

Pellegrini shouted tirelessly.

The whole morning was dedicated to grueling fitness drills.

After round after round of sprinting, many players collapsed on the ground from exhaustion.

Suker bent over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily—but compared to others, he was still standing.

Ramos and Pepe lay flat on the grass. Though both had solid stamina, even they were reaching their limit.

The difference became obvious.

"Are all Croatian players this good at running?" Pepe asked.

Suker pointed at Ramos:

"Ask him."

Ramos blinked—then suddenly remembered the Euro semifinal against Croatia—those guys ran like wild horses.

Pepe saw Ramos's reaction and understood.

He rolled his eyes and asked:

"Got any stamina-boosting tips?"

At their level, even a slight gain in endurance or muscle efficiency could make a huge difference in crucial moments.

Suker replied:

"Doesn't the club have breathing restrictors? If not, try training with a mask—it limits oxygen intake. It's useful for improving cardio, and great prep for playing at high-altitude stadiums."

Pepe nodded thoughtfully.

After morning training, they had lunch in the canteen.

In the afternoon: ball work.

Not full games yet—just drill segments.

Forwards practiced finishing; defenders trained in group defending.

Casillas was in goal.

Pellegrini stood nearby, feeding passes to the forwards, who had to shoot within one touch.

Suker, Benzema, Higuaín, Raúl lined up on the edge of the box.

Pellegrini passed to them one by one.

Raúl predicted the pass perfectly, calmly slotted the ball into the bottom left corner.

Benzema took a bit more time to settle, but still scored.

Higuaín rushed, hit the crossbar—miss.

Then it was Suker's turn.

All eyes focused on him.

Suker's shooting technique was legendary.

As Pellegrini began his pass, Suker was already adjusting with short, quick steps.

BANG!Ball came in fast—Suker adjusted, eyes locked onto goal.

His intense, aggressive glare startled even Casillas.

Next second—Suker spun his body and struck a stunning volley.

BOOM!The ball dipped and curled straight into the bottom left corner.

Perfect power, placement, and timing—Casillas didn't even move.

Everyone was stunned.

Benzema's jaw literally dropped, eyes wide in awe.

That shot was close to perfect.

But Suker shook his head, flexed his ankle, and muttered:

"Didn't hit the sweet spot—I could've gone top corner."

Silence.

A volley, and you're complaining it didn't hit the exact spot?You wanted to top corner it??