章 8: Debut
Jude Bellingham threw an arm around Luka's shoulders as they walked towards the tunnel. "Mate, are you sure you're 17?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "That goal was something else!"
Luka couldn't help but grin, still riding the high of his performance. "Last time I checked, yeah," he replied with a chuckle.
Youssoufa Moukoko, walking alongside them, playfully nudged Jude. "Speak for yourself, Bellingham. You're barely older than him!"
As they entered the locker room, the atmosphere was electric. Music blared from portable speakers, and players were exchanging high-fives and hugs.
Marco Rose approached Luka, a broad smile on his face. "Exceptional performance, Zorić," he said, patting the young player on the back. "Keep this up, and you'll be giving me some tough decisions to make for the starting lineup."
Luka beamed at the praise, feeling a surge of confidence. "Thank you, coach. I'll keep working hard."
As the team began to shower and change, the conversations naturally turned to the match. Players relived key moments, with Luka's goal being a frequent topic of discussion.
"That backheel to Jude," Mats Hummels commented, shaking his head in admiration. "That's the kind of instinctive play you can't teach. You've got a gift, truly."
Luka, trying to stay humble despite the praise, simply nodded his thanks. As he pulled on his Borussia Dortmund tracksuit, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. The boy from Croatia who had struggled in Manchester United's academy seemed a distant memory. Here he was, having just put in a man-of-the-match performance for one of Europe's top clubs.
After the post-match interviews and cool-down routines, the team boarded the bus back to their hotel. Luka found himself sitting next to Jude again, the two young players forming a fast friendship.
"So, what's next for the wonder kid?" Jude asked, a teasing grin on his face.
Luka laughed, shaking his head. "Just focusing on the next match, I guess. And trying not to let all this go to my head."
"Good plan," Jude nodded approvingly. "But seriously, mate, enjoy it. Nights like these don't come around every day."
As the bus wound its way through the Austrian countryside, Luka gazed out the window, reflecting on the journey that had brought him to this point.
Back at the hotel, the team gathered for a late dinner. The mood was celebratory but restrained - after all, it was only a pre-season friendly. Still, Luka couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging as he sat among his teammates, joining in the banter and reliving moments from the match.
As the night wore on and players began to drift back to their rooms, Luka found himself unable to sleep. The adrenaline from the match still coursed through his veins. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the numerous messages of congratulations from friends and family. One message, however, gave him pause - a simple "Well done, son" from his father back in England.
Luka's thoughts drifted to his family, to the sacrifices they had made for his career. His mother's recent return to England to help with his sister tugged at his heart. But he knew this was part of the journey, part of chasing his dreams.
As dawn broke over Austria, the Borussia Dortmund team prepared for their journey back to Germany. Luka, bleary-eyed from a restless night but still buzzing from the previous day's performance, boarded the team plane alongside his teammates.
Meanwhile, across the Channel in Manchester, Ole Gunnar Solskjær sat in his office at Carrington, his eyes glued to a laptop screen. He had just finished watching the highlights of the Dortmund vs Bologna match, and his expression was a mix of admiration and frustration.
"What a player," Ole muttered to himself, shaking his head as he watched Luka's goal for the umpteenth time. The way the young Croatian had taken control of the game, his audacious dribbles, and that spectacular finish - it was all painfully reminiscent of the potential Ole had seen in him during his brief stint at United's academy.
Ole leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. The transfer window was in full swing, and while he was pleased with the arrival of Jadon Sancho, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret as he watched Luka's performance.
"This is what we're missing out on," he said to himself, his voice tinged with frustration. He had fought hard to keep Luka at United, seeing in him the kind of technical ability and vision that the club desperately needed in midfield.
Ole clicked through more highlights, watching as Luka glided past Bologna players. One particular sequence caught his eye - Luka receiving the ball under pressure from four opponents, only to emerge with the ball still glued to his feet after a series of audacious moves.
"World-class dribbles already," Ole mused, a mixture of admiration and regret in his voice.
As he continued to watch, Ole's mind raced with possibilities and what-ifs. He knew that getting Luka back would be nearly impossible now. Dortmund had structured the deal cleverly, with a buy clause that now seemed like a bargain given Luka's rapid development. The only hope had been the recall clause, but that required Luka's agreement - something that seemed unlikely.
Ole glanced at the calendar on his desk. The new season was approaching fast, and while the addition of Sancho was a boost, he couldn't shake the feeling that they had let a special talent slip through their fingers.
He turned back to the laptop, watching as Luka celebrated with his Dortmund teammates. The joy on the young player's face was evident, and Ole felt a pang of regret. He had seen that same joy when Luka had first arrived at U23 training, full of hope and potential. Now, that potential was being realized - but in the yellow and black of Borussia Dortmund, not the red of Manchester United.
As the highlight reel came to an end, Ole closed the laptop with a sigh. He had a training session to prepare for, a squad to motivate, and a season to plan. But as he stood up from his desk, he couldn't shake the image of Luka Zorić, the one that got away, lighting up the pitch in Dortmund's colors.
<>
The next day, Luka found himself back in his apartment in Dortmund, sprawled on his couch, trying to relax but unable to shake the nervous energy coursing through him. The past few days had been filled with excitement and success, but now, in the quiet of his home, doubts began to creep in.
He glanced at his phone for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. No new messages. No calls. Nothing to indicate whether he'd be playing with the first team or relegated to the Bundesliga 3 squad. Despite his stellar performances in the pre-season friendlies, particularly against Bologna, Luka knew that nothing was guaranteed in football, he learned that early on.
The first game of the season was looming on August 7th, a DFB-Pokal match against Wehen Wiesbaden. Luka had circled the date on his calendar, but whether he'd be involved remained a mystery.
He got up and paced around his apartment, pausing to look out the window at the bustling streets of Dortmund below. The city had quickly become home, its passion for football evident in every corner. Yellow and black flags hung from windows, and people walked around proudly wearing their BVB jerseys.
As Luka was about to head to the kitchen to make himself a snack, his phone buzzed. His heart leapt into his throat as he saw the club's number flash on the screen.
"Hello?" he answered, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Luka, it's Hans from the club," came the familiar voice of one of the team administrators. "I'm calling to confirm the first team training schedule for the coming week. We'll be starting at 9 AM sharp tomorrow, with a tactical briefing at 8:30. Make sure you're there on time."
Luka's mind was reeling. First team training schedule? Did this mean...?
"Also," Hans continued, "there's a team dinner scheduled for Friday evening, and a media day on Tuesday. I'll send you the full details via email."
"Okay, great. Thank you," Luka managed to reply, still processing the information.
"See you tomorrow, Luka," Hans said before hanging up.
Luka stood there for a moment, phone still pressed to his ear, before a wide grin spread across his face. He was with the first team. They hadn't even bothered to tell him explicitly - it was just assumed. Expected, perhaps, after his performances, but still... this was it. This was real.
"Yes!" he shouted, pumping his fist in the air. The nervous energy that had been building all morning transformed into pure elation.
He spent the rest of the day in a state of controlled excitement. He went for a run to burn off some energy, carefully following the nutrition plan provided by the club dietician. As he jogged through a nearby park, he couldn't help but imagine himself playing in the Signal Iduna Park, hearing the roar of the Yellow Wall.
That evening, as he prepared for bed, Luka set his alarm extra early. He wanted to be more than ready for his first official first-team training session.
The next morning, Luka arrived at the training ground a full 35 minutes before the tactical briefing was set to begin. He wasn't the only one - he noticed Jude Bellingham and Gio Reyna were also early, chatting animatedly near the entrance.
"Luka!" Gio called out, waving him over. "Ready for the big leagues?"
Luka grinned as he joined them. "As ready as I'll ever be. Still can't quite believe it, to be honest."
Jude clapped him on the shoulder. "Believe it, mate. You've earned it. Now you've just got to keep proving why you belong here."
As more players arrived and they made their way into the briefing room, Luka felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. This was a whole new level of intensity and expectation.
The tactical briefing was more detailed than anything Luka had experienced before. Marco Rose went through intricate tactical patterns, discussing how they wanted to press, where the defensive line should be positioned in different scenarios, and the specific movements expected from each position.
When they finally made it out onto the training pitch, Luka felt like his brain was overflowing with information. But as soon as the ball was at his feet, everything else faded away. This was what he was born to do.
The training session was intense. They started with some fitness work, pushing their bodies to the limit with high-intensity interval training. Luka found himself gasping for breath, his legs burning, but he refused to show any sign of weakness. He matched Jude and Gio stride for stride, pushing himself harder than he ever had before.
After the fitness work, they moved onto technical drills. They practiced one-touch passing, working on quick movements and precise ball control. Luka's touch was immaculate, his passes finding their targets with unerring accuracy.
"Good, Zorić!" Marco Rose called out. "That's the kind of quick thinking we need!"
As they moved into a small-sided game, Luka found himself matched up against Reyna. The American was quick and skillful, but Luka was determined to show he could compete at this level.
Receiving the ball on the edge of the area, Luka found Gio closing him down quickly. Without hesitation, Luka executed a lightning-fast step-over, feinting to his right before chopping the ball back to his left. The sudden change of direction caught Gio off guard. He tried to adjust but his momentum carried him the wrong way, his legs tangling as he attempted to change direction.
As Gio sprawled on the ground, Luka burst past him. With the goal opening up before him, he didn't hesitate. He struck the ball with the outside of his right foot, sending it curling into the top corner, well beyond the reach of the goalkeeper.
For a moment, there was silence on the training pitch. Then, a burst of applause and cheers from his teammates.
"Bloody hell, Luka!" Jude exclaimed, jogging over to help Gio up. "You didn't have to do him like that!"
Gio, despite being on the receiving end of the move, couldn't help but laugh. "That was nasty, man. In a good way, though. Remind me never to give you that much space again!"
Marco Rose watched the scene with a small smile. "That's the kind of creativity and skill we need, Luka. But remember, in a real match, you might not have that much time."
The rest of the training session passed in a blur of drills, tactical work, and more small-sided games. By the end, Luka was exhausted but exhilarated. This was a whole new level of intensity, but it felt right. It felt like where he belonged.
<>
The team dinner on Friday evening was a lively affair. Held at a high-end restaurant in downtown Dortmund, it was a chance for the players to bond off the pitch. Luka found himself seated between Jude Bellingham and Youssoufa Moukoko, with Erling Haaland and Gio Reyna across from them.
As they waited for their appetizers, Haaland regaled them with stories from his childhood in Norway, his booming laughter filling the air. Luka was struck by how normal it all felt - just a group of young men enjoying each other's company, despite being some of the most talented footballers in the world.
The evening passed in a blur of good food, better company, and countless jokes. By the time they left the restaurant, Luka felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the wine they'd been allowed, in moderation, of course.
Tuesday's media day arrived before Luka knew it. He found himself in a room with Jude, Gio, Erling, and Raphaël Guerreiro, waiting to film a segment for the club's social media channels.
A chipper production assistant explained the concept: they'd be shown a series of funny football clips from the 2000s and asked to react. Simple enough, Luka thought.
As the cameras started rolling, the first clip appeared on the screen in front of them. It showed a player from the early 2000s attempting an overhead kick, only to completely miss the ball and land flat on his back.
Erling's laugh was immediate and infectious. "Oh man, I've been there," he chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes.
"You? Mr. Perfect?" Jude teased, nudging the Norwegian striker.
"Heh even I was a beginner once," Erling protested good-naturedly.
The next clip showed a goalkeeper fumbling an easy catch, the ball bouncing off his hands and into the goal.
"Oof," Gio winced sympathetically. "That's rough."
"Bet Roman's glad we didn't invite him to this," Raphaël quipped, referring to their goalkeeper, Roman Bürki.
As more clips played, the banter between the players flowed naturally. They laughed at the outrageous hairstyles of early 2000s footballers, cringed at particularly nasty tackles, and marveled at some of the more impressive skills on display.
One clip showed a player attempting to take a quick throw-in, only to slip and fall into a puddle by the sideline.
"That's you next rainy match, Jude," Luka joked, earning a playful shove from his friend.
"As if," Jude retorted. "I've got the grace of a gazelle, mate."
"A gazelle with two left feet, maybe," Gio chimed in, causing another round of laughter.
As they wrapped up the segment, Luka found himself genuinely enjoying the experience. It was a side of professional football he hadn't really considered before - the media obligations, the brand building. But surrounded by his teammates, it felt less like work and more like hanging out with friends.
The next couple of days passed in a whirlwind of training sessions and tactical meetings. Luka threw himself into every drill, every discussion, determined to prove he belonged at this level.
It was two days before the match against Wehen Wiesbaden when Marco Rose called Luka into his office. As Luka sat down across from his coach, he tried to keep his expression neutral, even as his heart raced.
"Luka," Rose began, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "I wanted to let you know that you're not only in the team for Saturday's match, but you'll be getting your first start."
For a moment, Luka was sure he had misheard. "I'm... starting?" he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
Rose nodded, his smile widening. "You've earned it. Your performances in training and the friendlies have been exceptional. Now it's time to show what you can do when it really counts."
As the reality of the situation sank in, a mix of excitement and nerves washed over Luka. His first professional start, in a cup match no less. It was a dream come true, but also a massive responsibility.
"Thank you, coach," Luka said, his voice steadier now. "I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," Rose replied. "Now go on, get some rest. We've got a big match to prepare for."
As Luka left the office, his mind was already racing with thoughts of the upcoming game. He'd have to call his parents, let them know. Maybe they could watch the match online.
<>
As Luka stepped onto the pitch at the BRITA-Arena, home of SV Wehen Wiesbaden, he felt a surge of excitement coursing through his veins. This wasn't just his first professional start; it was his moment to shine, to show the world what he could do. The nerves that had plagued him earlier in the week had melted away, replaced by an unwavering confidence.
The referee's whistle pierced the air, and the match began. From the first touch, Luka was electric. Receiving the ball on the left wing, he immediately showcased his skill set. A Wiesbaden defender rushed to close him down, but Luka simply stood his ground, the ball seemingly glued to his foot. He waited, perfectly still, until the defender committed to a tackle. At the last second, Luka flicked the ball between the defender's legs and spun away, leaving his opponent grasping at thin air.
The Dortmund fans, who had traveled in numbers despite it being an away cup tie, roared their approval. Luka felt the energy of the crowd fuel his confidence even further.
As the first half progressed, Luka continued to terrorize the Wiesbaden defense. In the 15th minute, he received the ball near the halfway line. Two defenders converged on him, but Luka was unfazed. He performed a quick step-over, then another, his feet moving so fast they were almost a blur. The defenders, mesmerized by the display, were caught flat-footed as Luka suddenly accelerated past them.
He streaked down the left wing, cut inside sharply, leaving another defender in his wake. The crowd held its breath as Luka approached the penalty area. He faked a shot, sending a defender sliding past him, then cut back onto his right foot. The goalkeeper came out to narrow the angle, but Luka calmly chipped the ball over him. For a moment, it looked certain to be a goal, but a Wiesbaden defender managed to sprint back and clear the ball off the line at the last second.
The Dortmund fans groaned in disappointment, but then broke into appreciative applause. They knew they were witnessing something special.
In the 25th minute, it was Haaland who opened the scoring. A precise through ball from Reus found the Norwegian striker, who finished clinically past the Wiesbaden goalkeeper. Luka was the first to reach Haaland, leaping onto his back in celebration.
Luka continued to dazzle throughout the first half. In the 35th minute, he received the ball on the left touchline, surrounded by three Wiesbaden players. The crowd held its breath, expecting him to lose possession. Instead, Luka performed a series of intricate stepovers, his feet moving so fast they seemed to blur. The defenders, mesmerized, could only watch as Luka suddenly burst between two of them, emerging on the other side with the ball still at his feet.
He raced towards the penalty area, cut inside onto his right foot, and unleashed a curling shot that seemed destined for the top corner. The Wiesbaden goalkeeper made a spectacular save, tipping the ball over the crossbar at full stretch. The crowd erupted in a mix of groans and applause, recognizing the quality of both the shot and the save.
Just before halftime, Haaland scored his second. This time, it was Luka who provided the assist, albeit indirectly. He received the ball on the left wing, faced up his defender, and performed a series of quick stepovers. The defender, wary of Luka's ability to burst past him, backed off slightly. Luka seized the opportunity to whip in a cross. The ball deflected off a defender, but the Norwegian adjusted brilliantly, swiveling to volley the ball into the net.
As the teams walked off at halftime, the scoreboard read Wehen Wiesbaden 0 - 2 Borussia Dortmund. But the scoreline didn't tell the whole story. While Haaland had the goals, it was Luka who had been the standout performer. He had completed 100% of his dribbles, created three chances, and had the Wiesbaden defense in knots.
In the dressing room, Marco Rose was full of praise for the young Croatian. "Luka, you're playing brilliantly out there. Keep it up, and the goals and assists will come. Just keep doing what you're doing."
As the second half began, Luka was determined to add his name to the scoresheet. In the 55th minute, he received the ball near the center circle. A Wiesbaden midfielder rushed to close him down, but Luka simply rolled his foot over the ball, changing direction in an instant. He accelerated away, leaving the midfielder stumbling.
Luka drove forward, the Wiesbaden defense backing off, wary of his skill and speed. As he approached the penalty area, he shaped to shoot with his right foot. The nearest defender committed, lunging to block the shot. But it was a feint - Luka dragged the ball back with his right foot, then quickly pushed it forward with his left, leaving the defender on the ground.
Now inside the box, Luka found himself surrounded by three defenders. The crowd held its breath, expecting a shot or a pass. Instead, Luka channeled his inner Ronaldinho. He flicked the ball up, juggled it twice with his right foot, then his left, bewildering the defenders. As the ball dropped, he spun 360 degrees, leaving two defenders colliding with each other.
The goalkeeper came out, expecting a chip. Luka, however, had other ideas. In a move he'd seen Kylian Mbappé do many times, he suddenly dropped his shoulder and unleashed a powerful low shot to the near post. The ball whistled past the goalkeeper's outstretched hand and nestled in the bottom corner of the net.
The stadium erupted. Luka wheeled away in celebration, his face a picture of pure joy and disbelief. His teammates mobbed him, Haaland lifting him off his feet in a bear hug.
"What a goal!" the commentator screamed. "Luka Zorić, remember the name! This 17-year-old has just announced himself to the world with a goal of breathtaking skill and audacity!"
The goal seemed to ignite something in Luka. He was everywhere, his confidence soaring. In the 65th minute, he received the ball on the left touchline, tightly marked by two Wiesbaden players. Without hesitation, he flicked the ball over both their heads, spun around them, and collected it on the other side. The crowd gasped in amazement.
Luka then initiated a sequence of play that had Marco Rose beaming on the sideline. He exchanged a series of one-touch passes with Jude Bellingham, the ball pinging between them as they wove through the Wiesbaden midfield. It was tiki-taka at its finest, the two teenagers moving the ball with a precision and understanding that belied their years.
As they approached the edge of the box, Luka, with his back to goal, suddenly flicked the ball into the path of the onrushing Gio Reyna. Reyna, timing his run perfectly, met the ball first-time, curling it beautifully into the top corner.
The Dortmund bench erupted, players and staff alike on their feet applauding the sublime team goal. Marco Rose turned to his assistant, shaking his head in disbelief. "These kids," he muttered, a wide grin on his face. "They're something else."
But Luka wasn't done yet. In the 80th minute, he received the ball deep in his own half. Spotting Haaland making a run, he launched a pinpoint 60-yard pass that landed perfectly at the Norwegian's feet. Haaland's shot was saved, but Luka, having sprinted the length of the field, was there to collect the rebound.
He dribbled into the box, his quick feet leaving defenders lunging at thin air. A desperate tackle from behind sent Luka tumbling to the ground. The referee blew his whistle immediately, pointing to the spot.
As Haaland placed the ball on the penalty spot, Luka gave him a thumbs up. The Norwegian made no mistake, smashing the ball into the roof of the net to complete his hat-trick.
In the dying minutes of the game, Luka nearly added another assist to his tally. Receiving the ball on the halfway line, he executed a perfect Cruyff turn to evade a defender, then chipped a delightful ball over the Wiesbaden backline. Moukoko, who had come on as a substitute, was inches away from connecting with the pass.
As the final whistle blew, the scoreboard read Wehen Wiesbaden 0 - 5 Borussia Dortmund. Luka had a goal and two assists to his name, but his overall performance had been worth so much more. He had completed 15 successful dribbles, created 7 chances, and had an incredible 98% pass completion rate.
Minutes later Luka Zorić found himself being ushered towards a waiting journalist, still buzzing from the adrenaline of his outstanding performance.
The journalist, a middle-aged woman with a friendly smile, extended her hand. "Congratulations on an incredible debut! Would you mind introducing yourself to our viewers?"
Luka, slightly taken aback by the formality of the request, nodded. "Of course. I'm Luka Zorić, I'm 17 years old, and I play as an attacking midfielder for Borussia Dortmund."
The journalist nodded encouragingly. "You're currently on loan here at Dortmund, is that correct? Can you tell us a bit about how that came about?"
Luka hesitated for a moment, considering his words carefully. "Yes, that's right. I was previously in the Manchester United youth setup, but things didn't quite work out there. Dortmund saw something in me and offered me this opportunity. I'm incredibly grateful for it."
"Well, they certainly seem to have spotted a gem!" the journalist exclaimed. "Your performance today was nothing short of spectacular. Your dribbling, in particular, was extraordinary. Did you know you've broken the record for most completed dribbles in a single DFB-Pokal match?"
Luka's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I... I had no idea. I was just playing my game, trying to help the team."
The journalist nodded, clearly impressed. "Not only that, but you've also become one of the youngest players to both score and assist in a DFB-Pokal match, alongside your teammates Gio Reyna and Youssoufa Moukoko. How does it feel to be in such esteemed company?"
Luka shook his head in disbelief, a small laugh escaping him. "Wow, that's... that's incredible. I guess I'm a bit better than I thought I was," he said, a hint of confidence in his voice. "But really, it's a testament to the team and the faith they've shown in me. Gio and Youssoufa are amazing players, and it's an honor to be mentioned alongside them."
The journalist pressed on, clearly intrigued by Luka's story. "You mentioned you were at Manchester United before this. Many are wondering how they could have missed such obvious talent. What are your thoughts on that?"
Luka paused, choosing his words carefully. "Football is full of stories like mine. Sometimes, a player just needs the right environment to flourish. Manchester United is a great club, but for certain reason, it wasn't the right fit for me. But Dortmund..." he trailed off, a smile spreading across his face. "Dortmund saw something in me. They've given me a chance, and I feel at home here."
"And what a home it seems to be!" the journalist exclaimed. "Your performance today has certainly turned heads. Not many people knew your name before this match, but I have a feeling that's about to change. How do you feel about the attention that's likely coming your way?"
Luka shrugged, his modesty evident. "I'm just focused on playing football and helping the team. If people are taking notice, that's great, but it doesn't change what I need to do on the pitch. I'm here to learn, to grow, and to contribute to Borussia Dortmund's success."
The journalist nodded approvingly. "Well, based on today's performance, you're certainly doing that. One final question, Luka. Your loan deal includes an option for Dortmund to make the move permanent. After today's game, I'm sure many fans are hoping that happens. What are your thoughts on potentially staying at Dortmund long-term?"
Luka's face lit up at the question. "I hope I get to stay," he said without hesitation. "As I said, I feel at home here. The club, the fans, my teammates - everything just feels right. Of course, that decision isn't entirely up to me, but I'm going to do everything I can to show that I belong here. Today was just the start."
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