[FM13]The Adriatic Adventure [Hajduk Split]

I agree with Neal.

THE CROWN OF SPLIT
And then there were 8.

Every year, Hajduk gets drawn with the biggest names in the competition. Drawn against the leading lights of the greatest competition on earth. It was always City. It was always PSG. It was never an easy match.

But by the time Hajduk strolled off the pitch, they sure as hell made it look like one.

-"Good evening everyone, welcome to what promises to be an amazing night of Champion's League football. I'm Martin Tyler, and with me is my ever-faithful partner Andy Gray."

-"Evening everyone"

-"Now, we're both from up North, and we've got to say, even with the home advantage Hajduk have at Poljud, City are probably going to take it through without a chance for the home team. I mean, realistically, this is Manchester City. One of the strongest Manchester City teams in a decade. And Hajduk, for all it's charm, is... bah. How good can their youth academy possibly be."

-"Martin, I wonder if they ever thought anyone would be asking that after three Champions League Titles."

But they did. They asked every day. Never to his face, but they asked every day, "is that academy good enough"

And they all found out the hard way.

-"City are closing in on half-time, we're only a few mi- oh me oh my"

-"I EVO GA! ČEHO LULIĆ, KOJA MAJSTORIJA! GOL GOL GOL, SA 30 METARA!"

-"Those damned Croatians are loud, eh, Andy?"

-"Was quite a goal though. Sérgio Lulić cut inside on Holger Badstuber, and smashed the ball into the top right corner past an aging Hugo Lloris. Three minutes to halftime too... so close."

"-Well... it's even, but Hajduk are going through on away goals."

But Hajduk kept going... they went again.

"AND HERE'S MIRNES TRIFKOVIĆ! THE SLOVENIAN BECOMES CROATIAN AT THE END OF THE YEAR, AND THEY'LL BE HAPPY TO TAKE HIM, BECAUSE THAT'S BLOODY SPECTACULAR!. 2-0"

And then 15 minutes later, again

"HERE HE IS AGAIN. Trifko collects the ball from Pešić, and cuts inside. For all the money they have... oh here's that bloody chant again.

"you can have your money, you can have your fame"
"but for all your oil, you have no game"

They scored 4 that evening. Manchester City tumbled out, and Bendiš showed, once more, that his youth academy was damned well good enough.

But then, after the match, there was something that Bendiš was waiting for years that showed up on the screen at the stadium. He didn't realize it at first. But after the match ended, Bendiš, waving to the crowd, was about to leave, before the crowd cheered, shouting. He turned, looking over his shoulder, and seeing the chairman in the center of the pitch. A chubby man, he beckoned, and Bendiš walked over, to the cheers of the crowd. Marin Brbić pointed to the screen, and Bendiš fell to the ground, tears of happiness down his face.

On the screen, a rendering of a stadium on the banks of the Adriatic. "Bendiš Arena", or the "Crown of Split". 50 000 seats of perfect glory, all paid for. None achieved from external funding. No sponsors, no "name-sharing agreements". Brbić handed Bendiš the permits, and Bendiš, with the rain pouring down shook them in the air, and ran into the stands.

The King of the Adriatic has finally received his Crown

YES! excellent! great result and a beautiful ending!

Bendiš Arena has a nice ring to it

2014-08-20 03:04#190861 Neal : Bendiš Arena has a nice ring to it

It does indeed. *tear rolls down cheek*

...OF MOURINHO'S TRIP TO SPLIT
Mourinho and Bendiš saw each other in the tunnel for the first time that time around. Mourinho didn't make his usual visit to the café, and Bendiš wasn't going to the hotel that he knew Madrid were staying at. How he knew? It was Split. Hardly a city to keep quiet on gossip.

But they stood there, silent for a few minutes, before the match started, standing besides each other, not exchanging a word, before José broke the ice.

"So, you're finally leaving this stadium."
"-Yep."
"Forty years of history... And you brought the best out of it.
"-Thanks"
"Well... here's hoping you make one last run for the title. I can't wait to play the final against you at the stadium you built."
"-I'll see you there José. Good luck out there."
"Nope... I knew as soon as they drew your name out of the hat... I knew it wasn't happening this year. Marseille got lucky. Paris came early. You don't lose."

And with that, they entered the pitch, Bendiš waving to the earsplitting crowd, who gave him the usual ovation. Karim Benzema was in the stands. The only player to have shirts from both clubs. But on the field, the talent was unmatched. And when you looked at them side-by-side, at Juan Mata, at David Alaba, at Juan Puñal, at Danny Welbeck and Lucas Moura, you couldn't help but notice that, when you lined them up against Hajduk, they just didn't look as menacing. They just simply weren't as good.

And maybe it was that Hajduk were simply as good as they were... or maybe, maybe it was that, when all the teams in the world looked at that white and gold kit, they saw a history of victories, and when Poljud looked at it, it was just a shirt. A shirt that lost. Year. After year. After year.

And Hajduk never disappointed Poljud. Not even tonight.

Especially not tonight.

OF TIMMY'S TRIP TO MADRID
The stands of Bernabéu shook with applause, as Tomislav Kiš was taken off in the 78th minute. It shook, and shook, and shook, as the largest ovation in Madrid since that of Ronaldinho showered the striker with applause.

That being said... the last person to score a hattrick against Real Madrid was Ivan Džoni. But not at Bernabéu. Never at Bernabéu.

It didn't look like it was going to be a rout at first. When the game kicked off, it was relatively simple: With Ronaldo watching from the stands, Puñal kicked the ball off into the right direction, and Madrid's hugely talented midfield began to tear the field apart, passing triangles like they were in a geometry lecture.

And then it happened. Teo Pešić nabbed the ball from an overconfident Giovanni Brighi, the hero of the Italian national side, and lofted the ball forward. So far, in fact, that no one could even think of making it except for the Real Madrid keeper... and, well, Tomi Kiš.

Angel Luis Serantes never saw him coming, before a simple volleyed lob made it into the top corner in the 4th minute.

Bernabéu was silenced, as, their midfield's self worth broken, Pešić, Trifković, and Šožić passed circles around Alaba and Mata. It was a simple matter to move the ball from one end of the pitch to another, and for Kiš to smash the ball into the top corner without a second thought.

By the time the fourth official came out with the board for extra minutes, Real Madrid almost wished that Split had stayed home... that the 1-1 draw at Poljud would be the final score. But Pero Bašić did not. Bašić took the ball from well inside his own half and dribbled past Mata and Alaba on the flank before Mourinho threw his papers in the air as Bašić curled it into the far post. Sarientes, helpless, watching it go in.

Kiš banged his third in almost as an afterthought. But bang it in he did nonetheless. With half an hour left to go, he lined a free kick up from thirty meters, and took it hard. It bounced off both posts behind the keeper, before Kiš celebrated with a hat. And the rest, is... well...

Ovations don't come on Bernabéu every day of the week... only really, when Hajduk show up in Madrid.

HNK Hajduk Split 4-1 (agg. 5-2) Real Madrid C.F. @ S. Bernabéu, Att. 98 000

What a brilliant win at the Santiago Bernabeu. Kiš is simply too good...Hajduk is simply too good!

EDIT: Reply 666

great win at the Bernabeu, Kis is truly amazing and will quite possibly go down as the greatest footballer to ever play the game,

i was 18 when i started to read this story and now im 25, ohh it took a while

This is, once again, The Adriatic Adventure… in case you haven’t noticed by now. You’d think you’d notice, seeing as The Adriatic Adventure is something of a big deal. But hey, you’re just not at the top of your game, it’s alright. We make mistakes. Well… you make mistakes. I don’t. But that just sounds like a personal problem.

In celebration of September, which may or may not be our 1 year anniversary. It probably isn’t but we can call it that.

No, it definitely isn’t, because I won SOTM in November last year after several months of being looked over. It might actually be our two-year anniversary, which sounds absurd, but I don’t have the internet to fact-check this… because I’m writing this on the bus… the 550, incidentally… which is a terrible bus line. It takes so freakin’ long to get to Bellevue, and this shit is always full… so we’ll just say it’s some anniversary.

Hey, who are you to judge. *YOU* made the first mistake.

Mr. Know-it-all.

Anyways, hotshot, in celebration of the month of September (Selebration for short) I’m writing an obscene 15 updates in 30 days.

Hohmigosh.

Also… two updates in one day doesn’t count, unless I’m behind on updates, in which case I make the rules, and who are you to say otherwise.

HOMIGOSH^2

Y’all shoulda just seen Neal’s face when he read that line. I mean, I didn’t see it, but I’m assuming it was priceless… y’know…

Or :-K

Holy shit, O-K is a stick figure. You can make a stick figure emoji.

Mind = blown.

There… that’s your “learn a new thing every day” for today. You’re fucking welcome, genius.

Geniuses? Genii?… No, that’s the plural for Genie… no… that’s Djinnn.

I hope you guys are having a fucking excellent time, because I’m hilarious


UPDATE 1/15
WHEN THE KING MARCHES INTO TOWN
Steve McLaren gazed jealously at Bendiš as he walked back from the center circle at Emirates. The Champions League hymn just played, and he walks out there, cool as you like, kisses his finger, points it at the sky, and the Hajduk crowd roars.

And Steve McLaren is sitting there thinking, “who the fuck let so many damned Croatians in my stadium”

And then, to add insult to injury, he comes back, and then takes part of the squad picture, standing just off to the right of the back line, like he’s some vital part of the team.

Every damned picture of Hajduk for the last decade has him in it. Sure, it was awkward at first, and then it started becoming normal, and then someone else tried to do it and promptly got kicked off the field by his squad.

That somebody else was Steve McLaren, about a month before he got fired from Tottenham for “lack of squad harmony”

And then, it became Bendiš’s thing. Something no other manager dared to even try.

But McLaren would show him. The last time he had capitulated to some Croatian upstarts was back for England… oh God England… but that was forgotten now. Arsenal was in the semifinals of the Champions League. He was on course to lead Arsenal to it’s highest league finish in over a decade - 2nd - and now he was going to show this young Croatian kid, what was what.

I mean, Arsenal is a Premier League club. Mourinho must’ve underestimated him, as he was prone to do, and just screwed up tactically. If anything, McLaren was happy he got Hajduk over Real Madrid. Could’ve been a lot worse.

But as Bendiš waved at the crowd again, all of Emirates had only one thought on their mind… everyone but their delusional manager…

“God, why couldn’t we have just gotten Real Madrid”

It didn’t take Kiš long to prove to McLaren that they could’ve been far better off, because Bendiš was playing in a new formation. Something, that, while it discounted Admir Lotinac’s immense proficiency on the wing, used three of the greatest attackers in the world simultaneously, and then paired it with three of the world’s better attacking playmakers.

So, with McLaren still wondering how Bendiš could possibly fit three forwards onto the pitch, and then quickly realizing how wrong he had been, Kiš danced inside the penalty box, chasing down Igor’s perfectly headed ball, and beating Szczesny on the near post.

Within 5 minutes, he did it again. At the Emirates. With an overhead kick, of all things.

Emirates knew it was done. It knew that two goals down, at home, no one was going to pick any points up in Split. It was half an hour into their 180 minute tie with the defending European Champions, and Arsenal - one of the most attractive teams in England - were falling apart against a 4-3-3.

And then Bašić scored. And McLaren turned, spat at his bench, and threw his notepad into the stands, furious, as the 26 year old selebrated with a run and a knee slide down the touchline.

Not many players can get past Arsenal’s defense. Fewer can nutmeg the keeper. And even fewer can do it from within their own half.

Sure, Arsenal scored twice in the final minutes. They weren’t a Sunday squad. This wasn’t a team that was going to stop fighting for it. But when the 90th minute came and went, and Kiš hit the bar one last time, Arsenal knew that they weren’t going to Old Trafford.. not after visiting Poljud for, perhaps, the last time.

Great update...McLaren needs to get his head on straight

For the record, my face was pretty much: -> :'D

if you don't want to deal with my casual ranting, feel free to skip to the bold title text... although you may or may not be missing out

Hi Neal,

We haven’t talked in a while, and, as it would seem, you are the only person even looking at my story. Edu and Arvind seem to have abandoned me

;(

It’s okay. I’m over it…

But, since at least I know that only one person is reading my utterly magnificent story it makes sense to at least address my personal comments to him instead of to my “group of readers”

God, this is what it must feel like for Mel Gibson to release a movie nowadays.

Poor chap.

…

*tear* GOD, I’M OVER IT! stop riding my ass about it! *sob*

Alright, *sniff* we’re… I’m sorry… Neal and I… *pause… loud sobbing* are continuing my absurd escapades regarding 15 updates in 30 days, and since you had one the other day, that makes me precisely on course to finish the selebration before the end of September.

Boom. *sniffle*

I should probably stop calling it a selebration… since otherwise I just sound like that fat kid whose birthday party no one wanted to come to.

OH! I’m going to address a criticism! Neal, you know how rarely I address my critics/comment on people. It’s like… well… it doesn’t happen. But, in any case, it’s happening now.

Recently, I’d say in the last couple of days, I was told that the problem with my story… which, as both you (Neal) and I know, is bloody perfect… is that it’s “too freakin’ long” and that you need to “start at the beginning and it’s 40 something [sic] bloody pages and God knows if I have the fucking time for that” (I may be paraphrasing that second bit… which seems to be the opposite of [sic] but okay…)

Well, in response to that, I’ll mention that if you tried to pick up any of the old “legendary” stories half way through, you wouldn’t have the slightest idea what was going on and that my 45 page monstrosity has very few “reader comments” and, as such, it’s easier to go through than those stories who had 15 bloody comments for each freakin’ update…

… gimme a second…

*leaves the room. Loud, uncontrolled sobs come from the bathroom, continuing for several minutes, before Timmy starts giving himself reassuring, very motivational speeches to himself in, what we assume is the mirror* “No… you promised yourself you wouldn’t do this. You’re too good for this… you don’t need their comments. Neal’s is enough… alright? Let’s get back in there” *long pause, comes back, sniffles*

“…No really… I’m fine…”

SO! On account of being too fucking long. Suck it up and deal with it. My story should qualify as summer reading, on account of being FAR more interesting than most of the crap you have to read for school. There’s a reason THIS story is closing in on the record for most time’s nominated for SOTM.

Anyways *sniffles… controlled sob*… ONTO the update


Update 2/15
AND MAKE IT SIX
Arsenal need to win by at least a two goal margin - or score three - against Hajduk at Poljud to go through to their first Champions League final since Arséne Wenger led his squad to the title over Barcelona 6 years ago… in the last Champions League when Hajduk didn’t make the final.

It was at this point that, every Arsenal fan reading the paper last week promptly gave up hope on reaching that Champions League final… knowing what happened to Manchester City last year at the Ethiad…. and knowing what happened to them at the Emirates.

None of them reflected on the fact that their “lovely” stadiums seemed to be named after airline companies, while Timmy’s new stadium was named after himself… narcissistic bastard.

Five thousand Arsenal fans managed to pack themselves into the 34 000 seat Poljud, but for all of their flags and taunts against the Croatian team, there are no fans louder than the Croatians, 5 000 of whom managed to out-sing 65 000 English fans in London.

And it showed, as the 22 players lined the pitch… it showed when the ball kicked off, for a final 90 minutes at Poljud before going back to England for the final at Old Trafford.

Arsenal wasn’t going to make it through Maloča and Elež anytime soon… and, even if Ricci Mansell, who led England to their 2nd World Cup title in Qatar only last season, the chance that he would punch the ball past Hašib Ramić, one of the greatest keepers of the next generation, was even smaller.

It did take a while for Hajduk to score though. The especially boisterous crowd cheered them on, but for the whole of the first half, it remained goalless, the only moment of excitement coming from Tomi Kiš and Pero Bašić, who promptly linked up with a glorious one-two pass, only for the ball to come off the crossbar.

The second half though… oh my word, Arsenal fell like a cannonball.

Igor netted the first goal. It was a simple goal, but it made a world of a difference. Now Arsenal needed to score three in less than 40 minutes. Three.

And then Igor assisted the second. A beautiful long ball forward from Teo Pešić, who is, without a doubt, one of the greatest of Croatia’s long line of legendary playmakers, graced Igor on the chest, only for the Brazillian to flick it to the right and allow the marauding poacher to score his 13th in the competition, making an Arsenal comeback in the 82nd close to impossible.

By the time Pero Bašić scored his goal a minute later, it was finished, as Timmy Bendiš ran up to the stands to his wife, and kissed her. It is to be the first Champions League final that she won’t attend, as the couple expects their first child in the coming months.

In two weeks though, Bendiš will be at Old Trafford to face the second biggest surprise of the competition: Galatasaray, chasing his 4th Champions League crown in only five years.

HAJDUK 3-0 ARSENAL - POLJUD - ATTD: 34 448 (AGG. 6-2)

You've got a faithful reader in me, even though I seldom comment. I can proudly say I've read all 40 pages multiple times. Plus, great victory!

I'm touched to receive such praise just for commenting on this story, a story that deserves far more comments and a lot more attention. Cheers to undoubtedly the greatest writer currently on the site, and congrats for a massive win over Arsenal (not that that was ever in doubt!)

¡Holá! (¡Hóla¡?) Tis moi! Zie Weltmeister! Again.

As usual, if you think I’m an unhumurous moron, feel free to skip this part. Actually, if you think I’m an unhumorous moron, feel free to leave this page, throw your computer out the window and continue on with your dry, presumably boring, life, where one would assume you’re one of those people that never smiles and no one likes

Neal! Neal! Guess who I’ve signed. You’ll never guess… he’s on my coaching staff… he’s 59 in 2023, and he has several caps for Italy, but not a century.

tee hee…

I’VE SIGNED BERGOMI! BAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAAAAA.

He’s an absolute shit coach, I’ve signed him for 180K/year, which is far more than most of the rest of my coaches on the U19s are paid, but I find it absolutely hilarious that I’ve signed the symbol of your story to a position as unglamorous as I could’ve found. If I could’ve signed him for my U19 fitness coach, I would’ve, but I couldn’t, so he’s just an U19 coach.

I have officially just hired you to coach my U19s.

I mean, I’ve also hired other coaches, don’t get me wrong. I’ve got Gigi Buffon coaching my keepers, three of which have the potential to be as good as he is. And Nemanja Vidić is joining the team, plus an assistant manager, whom I have not quite decided yet… but still

This is probably more funny to me than to anyone else.

By the way, I think updates 4, 5, 6, and 7 will have to have quite a bit of a background… we’ve not done that in a while, hmmm?

¡BACK TO THE STORY!

Update 3/15
HE DOES IT, HE DOES IT AGAIN!
Tomislav Kiš scored 8 goals in the last 4 Champions League games - against European heavyweights Real Madrid, Arsenal, and now Galatasaray, to pick up the Champions League Golden shoe.

It was, however, the very first time that Kiš could pick up the Golden Shoe and the winner’s medal in the same game… and that clearly was too much for the forward who lives as a legend to both Hajduk, Croatia, and the world of football…

The most under-appreciated legend of all time.

So, when he scored for the second time in the final… the simple goal which made it too late for Galatasaray, and too much for their star forward to overtake him in goals, Kiš finally broke down in tears, a minute and a half before time ran out.

The crowd, perhaps realizing what this meant, what the 100 000 crowd and the glorious long-eared trophy meant to the best player in the world, stood up, giving the largest ovation that Old Trafford has ever seen… thunderous applause extended into the 90th minute, into the 91st, and then the 92nd as Kiš stood up and waved to the largest stadium in Europe.

Seven years ago, Bendiš drew Kiš into his office, as Liverpool, Real Madrid, and Barcelona were faxing in offers on a daily basis. Then only 21, and Bendiš only 23, Bendiš asked Kiš one question:

“Are you prepared to sacrifice the Golden Ball to help me turn this into the greatest club in the world?”

Kiš thought about that. He thought long and hard, as a contract, significantly smaller than anything Spain or England would have even dared offer, but still, the most Bendiš could afford, sat on his bedside table for days. Kiš, incidentally, didn’t sleep much those days. So, while the Daily Mail, La Marca, etc... were writing “SIMON GRAYSON IN SPLIT TO SIGN CROATIAN WÜNDERKIND” and "¡HALA MADRID!", Tomi Kiš was out walking on the pier, swimming in the sea.

Kiš never met Simon Grayson. But, come Friday evening, he realized he didn’t have to…

It was different on the Adriatic. The club was a family with the city. He had been with the club for years, and, even through every financial hardship in the book, they still tried desperately to keep him at home.

Not everything is money… as it turns out.

So, in 2023, Kiš ran down the length of the pitch and into the coach’s technical area, hugging Bendiš for several seconds…

“Thank you for making me stay… and thank you for making it home”

Yo Dawg!

I’m T to the B
Here to break it down
In my story.
Gotcha like ma countdown

My raps are fly,
Ya can’t stop me.
Built my story up so high
that y’all betta’ stop jealously.

Halt…

Timmytime.

*catchy jazz beat*

So sit yo’ ass down,
Give your comp a twirl
‘Cause you’re in ma house now
And things are about to unfurl.

…

So, now that that terrible ordeal is done. I want everyone to note that my “fly raps” have correct punctuation… because even rappers need grammar.


Update 4/15
HAJDUK SIGN 10!
TEN PLAYERS. Hajduk have signed nine players to their youth team, nine of the most perspective players in Europe right now, to join their already spectacular youth setup. With a tendency to produce the best strikers on the continent, if not the world - Mario Ljubi?i? joining Everton for 20M€ and becoming their new #9 - Bendiš has, not one, not two, but six chances to create the next big thing. And, even with six strikers coming through the ranks, no one discounts the fact that 4 of those play either on the wing or through the center.

Which, let’s not forget, means that Bendiš’s now infamous 4-3-3 has, not three strikers, but closer to six.

And, under new manager, Simon Ireland, Hajduk are back in the U19 Champions League…

Transfers aren’t usual for Bendiš. He doesn’t bring them in much, he doesn’t send players out very much. But, when it happens, his office, in the summer, at least, is the best place to do it.

A balcony overlooking the picturesque Croatian coastline.

There was a point in June, when two incoming transfers: Richard Dixon, an English defensive midfielder from Chester that looked every bit the part at 16, and Tchen-Sseu Heintz, a 17 year old inside forward from the industrial region of Strasbourg.

And, awestruck by the view, they clinked glasses with Bendiš and each other, and put the pen to the paper of a long-term contract, and then went about the rest of the day, touring the club grounds, where they would only play for a year before switching stadiums.

Maro walked out of the café, a bottle of champagne in one hand, two more glasses in another, and a dark look on his face.

“Look… I know you have your kid now and all… but… there’s this thing. There’s a few people I’d like you to meet.

“This is a Mr. Ivan Rodi?, he heads the Bank of Split, next is a Dr. Argent Vojnovi?, the Rector at the University, and these two gentlemen are Admiral Reži? and General Morovi?.”

Bendiš, after a moment’s hesitation, “Good evening… what can do for all of you.”

“We’d like you to consider a bit of a… a long term plan for you. You’ve just signed a long-term contract with the club, and we’d like you to consider running for mayor…

“Well… it’s not so much running for mayor… You’ll win. It’s after that what concerns us.”

Signing highlights:
Tchen-Sseu Heintz

Richard Dixon

Alex Müller