“FIRST MY BEST MAN DIED, MY SINIŠA MIHAJLOVIĆ, AND THEN WITHIN THREE WEEKS MY FATHER AND MOTHER…” The story of a legendary Serb brings tears to the eyes

My parents were originally from Knin, more precisely from the surrounding area – my mother from the village of Golubić, and my father from Oćestovo. They came to Slavonia in 1947 as part of the post-war colonisation. I have an older sister, Mirjana, born in 1961, and I’m the second child in the family. My father Tomo and mother Zorka had far more siblings. My dad had four brothers and one sister. My mum had eight brothers and sisters. It’s a big family.

Growing up

I finished primary school in Jankovci, secondary in Vinkovci. I started playing football at the Sloga club in Stari Jankovci, on the famous Gatina! At the time, it was a well-organised club. Stari Jankovci was a multi-ethnic community – roughly a third Serbs, a third Hungarians, and a third Croats. I can say that my childhood and upbringing were more than beautiful. We had two Christmases, two Easters… There were never any issues – until around 1991, when tensions began. I still have a house in Jankovci, I haven’t sold it. It’s 90 kilometres from Novi Sad. I visit often – it’s my father’s land, and I have lots of relatives there, as well as in Knin and Šibenik..

I remember my childhood by the summers I spent in Knin and Šibenik, in the villages where my parents were from. My mum’s sister lives in Šibenik, and I have three cousins there. I’ve gone to Dalmatia my whole life – and I still do. The memories are… oh… back then, as kids, we were free from any burdens. I could hardly wait to go there. I could swim every day – which wasn’t the case in Jankovci. Krka, Zrmanja – beautiful rivers... I remember all that. Then we’d go down to the coast. You’d spend a month and a half there, enjoying the freedom. What’s funny is how I travelled to Dalmatia.

My father Tomo worked for the railway, driving the big diesel locomotive, so we had free train passes as a family. As soon as school finished, I’d catch the first train straight to Knin! I’d stay there for 15–20 days, then the same amount of time in Šibenik. I had a carefree childhood that I’d wish for anyone.

They noticed me

Football wasn’t the main thing in my life, but I loved it. I played, and some people took notice. My brother Mladen, who lived in Vinkovci, played for Dinamo. At some point, as a youth player, I was invited to join. That’s when the real career began. I worked my way through all the youth levels and signed my first scholarship, then a professional contract. My first coach was Tonko Vukušić, and I played most under Nedeljko Gugolja, who came to Vinkovci from Olimpija in Ljubljana. In the end, my coach was Martin Novoselac, with whom I even played in tandem at Dinamo. What’s interesting – and shows how much I loved football – is that I was a professional at Dinamo, yet after every training session and match, I’d rush back to Jankovci to play “six-a-side” with my childhood friends.

Vojvodina

Then, in 1988, I moved to Vojvodina, and in the 1988/89 season we became champions of the old Yugoslavia. We caused a surprise no one expected. We were a bit of a ragtag bunch, lots of lads looking for a breakthrough, but with real talent. The experienced players were Miloš Šestić, Svetozar Šapurić, and goalkeeper Čedo Maras. They were the backbone of the team, and we younger guys built around that core. Let me name us: Siniša Mihajlović, Slaviša Jokanović, Ljubomir Vorkapić, Dragan Punišić, Dejan Joksimović, Goran Kartalija, Dušan Mijić, Budimir Vujačić, Stevan Milovac, Zoran Mijucić, Željko Dakić… I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone – that wouldn’t be right. Apologies to anyone I’ve missed. All of those players went on to have serious careers.

After that title, we more or less went our separate ways. But it was great playing for Vojvodina. Siniša was the first to go to Red Star, I followed six months later. Jokan, Vujačić, and Vorkapić went to Partizan. Šapurić went to Cyprus, Mijić to Spain… It was a great Vojvodina team. I’d love to see that happen again – though that’s getting harder and harder. I get emotional just talking about it all.

A bus ticket

Interestingly, neither I nor my family ever thought I’d become a professional footballer. My father… I don’t know – I think he only saw maybe five of my matches from my youth days to the Dinamo first team. I used to travel to training either hitchhiking or cycling from Jankovci to Vinkovci – about ten kilometres one way – or by train, which meant a lot of walking. From my house to the Jankovci station was a kilometre and a half, and then another two kilometres from the station in Vinkovci to the “Leni” and the stadium. But I never saw that as a problem. I always wanted to train and play football because I loved it. When I got a monthly bus pass – oh, that was something! What can I tell you… My parents always told me I had to finish school. Now here’s a funny thing… When Siniša and I came to Novi Sad, the first thing we did was enrol at university. Yeah, it was kind of, you know… ha-ha-ha, but we had the will and desire.

University and football

I remember my father’s reaction when I brought home my first scholarship from Dinamo. He made a fuss. Where did I get that money from? Who gave me so much money? I explained to him that it was a scholarship – I hadn’t stolen it. But he just couldn’t believe that kind of money could come from football. He was never interested in football and always told me I had to finish school. My mum wanted me to become a doctor, and my dad just wanted me to have some degree, because “without school, you can’t get by”. No way! Why did he think that way? I have three uncles, all younger than my father. He worked and put all three through school – and succeeded. He always wanted my sister and me to finish university too. If his three brothers could do it, then surely his son and daughter could as well. But then football happened. I had good contracts… So, going back to Siniša and me – we enrolled in the Faculty of Occupational Safety, because just like my parents, his mum and dad told him the same things. Exactly the same! We attended a few lectures, but we just couldn’t fit them in with our football commitments.

Slavonians

I met Siniša, I remember, during a match between Dinamo Vinkovci and Borovo. I was in the first team, and he was just 16. I saw this scruffy-haired kid doing wonders. That left foot, the free kick, crossbar, goal… Unbelievable. And that’s how we met. And that same day, we both arrived at Vojvodina, in Novi Sad. An incredible story. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were driven to Vojvodina together by driver Sale Pican! We had a coffee at Čemp with Sloba Kačar… We sat there waiting for Milorad Kosanović to come pick us up. Later, we lived together, played for Vojvodina for three years. Look, every Thursday and Sunday we went home. Sometimes he drove, sometimes I did. I’d take him to Borovo, he’d take me to Jankovci. Our homes were about ten kilometres apart. Same on the way back. We did that for years – it was never a bother. They used to call us “the Slavonians” in Vojvodina. Novi Sad was a big city for us, and we already knew each other. I didn’t know who else I could have lived with or hung out with. We depended on one another. We went out, talked – there were no secrets between us… We even argued. You know how it is when someone’s your own – you’re with them all the time! Those years in Novi Sad were wonderful, especially when we became champions. We had a certain status in the city; average attendance at the stadium was around 9,000. And today? People recognised something honest in us – we weren’t delinquents..

War

Red Star won the European Cup in Bari, and I was named the league’s best defender. Red Star played with a libero and one centre-back, and they wanted to switch to 3-5-2 to handle the high number of matches – two centre-backs with a libero. They needed me, that’s what they told me when negotiations began. At the time, I had an offer from Espanyol to move to Barcelona, but when Red Star appeared… I wanted to earn a spot in the national team. But just as I signed… I went on holiday, to Ibiza in Spain. We’re watching TV, and there’s a tank firing at a lorry… The caption reads: Ljubljana, Yugoslavia. What’s this?! And that’s how the war began. No national team, Red Star wasn’t allowed to play in Belgrade, so we relocated between Szeged and Sofia.

them to get out of there! I went into the house and asked my dad, “Who are these fools with guns?” My father said, “Son, this won’t end well.” That was the first sign of what was coming. Until then, I truly believed there was no chance. As I said before, I grew up as a Serb among Croats and Hungarians – I never asked, and no one asked me, who I was or what I was… We were used to living together. Even today, when I go there, I have no problem. Even those who were once hostile have come to understand a few things. Some took longer than others to realise it should never have happened. Everyone lives worse now, at least those who stayed.

Looting

And then, when the war started, my parents faced serious problems. They shot at our house! My mother and father were sleeping when a burst of bullets tore through the shutters and glass. Had they not hit the floor, who knows what might have happened! They fired at our house! They painted all sorts of slogans on the walls. Some are still there today… But never mind. When I saw things were getting out of hand, I got my parents out. Almost all the Serbs left Jankovci at that time. I rented a house in Veternik for my parents and sister. So did Siniša – they were nearby. And both of us were in Belgrade. It wasn’t safe. For a while, I didn’t go there at all. The house was completely looted – all the furniture taken out. But I don’t blame anyone. It was a crazy time. Both sides were doing it. When the Republic of Serbian Krajina came, the Serbs returned to the village, and nearly all the Croats left. My parents moved back then. I remember when we returned from Tokyo, after becoming world champions with Red Star – Siniša and I went to Vukovar. What a sight it was. Not a single house left intact. Terrible. Even in my Jankovci, there were houses riddled with bullets – though nothing compared to Vukovar.

Red Star

When our country came under embargo, we weren’t allowed to play, and thirteen of us left Red Star! I went to Turkey, to Fenerbahçe. Back then, clubs were only allowed three foreign players. After a few months, the Turks asked me to take Turkish citizenship. You know, the war in Bosnia had started – it wasn’t advisable at the time, nor did Red Star fans view it kindly. After six months, I decided to move to Hertha, in Berlin. I stayed there for four years, then moved to Mainz, where I spent five seasons and ended my career at 36 due to a serious knee injury. It was a great life experience – and I earned a bit. Leaving Vojvodina, Red Star, and Fener was all forced. Because of the situation in the country, the Turkish passport… I tried to secure things for my family as best I could. I had no other path. I remember the time when I was about to leave Red Star. I had an offer from Udinese, and Siniša had one from Juventus. We had the same agent – but the deal didn’t go through. The late Vujadin Boškov persuaded Siniša to join Roma, and I think that was the right move. Look, Siniša was waiting for Juventus to sell the Englishman David Platt. They were stalling, and the transfer window was nearly closed. When Siniša agreed to join Roma, the agent gave up on my move to Udine.

Turkey

Then Cologne came into the picture. And suddenly Miša Marinković called me and said they had a great offer from Fenerbahçe. I told him, “What Turkey?!” But he insisted – “Come meet the people, you can’t turn this down.” I went into town, uneasy... Remember, there were no mobile phones back then. And who finds me in a café? Voja Kis (laughs)! I went to Veternik, my mum saw I was worried. The war had started, it was madness. I made up my mind, went to Miša the next day, and quickly agreed terms with the Turks. The very next day I arrived in Sofia, caught a flight, and landed in Istanbul. I remember – the airport was packed. I looked around – what’s going on? I thought maybe a politician or a famous singer had arrived… but they were there for me! I had joined Fenerbahçe as a player from Red Star, European and world champions! Back then – and even now – we’re not fully aware of our own worth. I had no idea how big Fener was – huge! My first training session, and 50,000 people in the stadium. I was in shock! Not because of me, but because of the club I had joined. The conditions were fantastic – I couldn’t walk down the street. I opened the papers – 20 pictures of me. Great popularity, but also a big responsibility. Still, I went to Turkey reluctantly.

Mate, I’m getting married

Miha was in Italy, I was in Germany. It wasn’t easy for either of us. We talked every day. We’d get in the car, play our songs… He’d cry, I’d cry. We were young – he was 21, I was 26. We didn’t speak the language – neither of us. I came to Germany carrying a phrasebook just to get by – I’d studied Russian at school. We went through a lot. But whenever there was a break, we visited each other. And then Miha met Arianna! He told me, “I’m definitely going to marry her!” I said, “Are you mad? You’ve known her a week.” He said, “It’s done, you’ll see!” And that’s how it was. He went to Genoa and married her. He called me, “Mate, I’m getting married!” I was his best man – and when he had his first son, he named him Miroslav. When I got married, Siniša was my best man – and my first son was named Siniša. Later, when they had a church wedding in Sremski Karlovci, I was again his best man. We decided to be each other’s best men back when we were at Vojvodina. He didn’t even ask – just rang me and said, “Hey, I’m getting married, get ready!”

Rada from Novi Sad

While I was playing for Hertha, in Berlin, I had a girlfriend. She wanted to do my birth chart, and I was 27 at the time. She did it and told me that I wouldn’t get married before the age of 37, that I’d have three children, and that I’d marry a woman of a different faith who would be much younger than me. I threw it away, but it stayed with me. And when I reached 35 or 36, that piece of paper came back into my hands. Unbelievable. And after that, when I returned from Germany, I met my current wife Radmila, with whom I had three children, and who is 15 years younger than me. We met in Novi Sad and got married after ten months – but it felt like I’d known her all my life. I just knew she was the one. I felt it. It was as if God had brought me back to Novi Sad at that time, because I was supposed to stay in Mainz – the Germans had offered me a job after my playing career. And a month later, I met Rada. So that turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. If not the very best! Sometimes I sit and think – I didn’t get married late. I didn’t! A man shouldn’t marry until he’s mature. I swear on my mother! Those who marry young, they divorce young too, it becomes chaos, and the children are the ones who suffer. Stability in the family reflects on the children and how they grow up, how they live – and that’s really important. I can see I didn’t make a mistake.

What I tell my children

A year and a half after getting married, we had our daughter Sara in 2002, then Siniša in 2004, and Sofia in 2008. Sara followed in my footsteps – she went to university. Ha-ha-ha! I’m joking. She finished university in Rome, enrolled in a master’s programme, and lives there now.

Siniša plays football at Vojvodina and studies at FTN in Novi Sad. Our youngest daughter is 17 and will go to university too. And now, all the things my mum and dad used to say to me about school – I’m now telling my own children. Especially my daughters. I tell them that one day, they must be independent. I won’t be choosing their husbands, but they need to have their own stability, their own salary, their own identity, and not be dragged around by someone else. Since they have the opportunity, they should finish university, get educated, have their own bread. I’ve been telling them that their whole lives – like my mother used to say, “to guide them.” Siniša plays football – I can give him advice, but I can’t play for him. And he’s the one who listens to me the least – he thinks someone else will give him better advice.

My tragedies

I’ve had a lot of tragedy in my life. Uh... I’m aware that nobody lives forever. One day, we’ll all go. When Siniša fell ill, nobody thought he wouldn’t beat it. Especially since, at one point, he was 100 per cent cured. When he finished chemotherapy and the transplant, he was taking 27 tablets a day. I remember it well – we finished training, he held up a pill and said, “Mate, look – the last one, I’m done with this too!” But then three or four months later, it all came back and went downhill. And now... I remember everything. How it started… We were on holiday, meeting up in Bologna – we had medicals scheduled for two days later, and then we were supposed to head to Madonna di Campiglio for training camp. And he told me he had groin pain. He’d played padel for two days, thought maybe he’d pulled something. He went to a sports clinic to get an MRI, to see what it was. And that was it – he was gone.

Training was over, I got changed, we were supposed to go for dinner. Then Siniša arrived. I asked him, “Where have you been all this time?” He said, “I’ll tell you in the car.” What now? Why can’t the others hear? We got in the car – he was driving – and I asked what had happened. And he said, “Do you know what the doctor told me? Either I’ve got a serious inflammation, or I have leukaemia.” I said, “What are you talking about, what leukaemia?” And he told me that when they scanned him, everything in the groin area was white. The doctor thought the machine was faulty, so he scanned him again. And it was the same. “Siniša, this isn’t right,” the doctor said. He explained that he’d need a bone marrow biopsy the next day to be absolutely sure. And we were meant to go to training camp. Siniša said he’d tell the others that he was unwell, had a fever, and that I should go with the team. He’d let me know what the diagnosis was. I was at the hotel when he called. “Mate, do you know what it is?” “What?” I asked, panicking. “I’ve got leukaemia.”
(...)

Losing my loved ones

It’s terrible. Bloody hell. And then I gathered the team in the hotel, we called him on Skype, and he explained to the lads what was going on. Eh... And then the treatment began. He fought for as long as he could. And in the end, he didn’t make it. That’s the number one tragedy of my life. But, as if that weren’t enough… A year later, my father died, and then three and a half weeks later – my mother. Then my best man Predrag Bosnić, my childhood friend – we grew up together – died too. We called him Po-Bo. I didn’t even make it to the funeral. By the time I landed and got to the wake, they had already buried him. So…... what can I say... I know some things have to happen, but you can’t just get over them so easily.

Injuries

Looking back, I was a really restless child. I got hit by a car when I was seven! Look at my forehead! And the guy who hit me ran off – they caught him later. As soon as I came out of hospital, I went to a house under construction. Started climbing, a window fell on my leg, broke it, and back to hospital I went. I don’t know how my mother survived all that. Three or four years later, I broke both arms falling off a roof. I went into the army, served in Šibenik – artillery – full twelve months. And I broke my arm there too, playing football. Someone pushed me... Later I had meniscus surgery, which was a serious operation back then. I returned after 21 days and played a full match for Vojvodina. I was operated on by Professor Popović from Banja Luka, a former handball player. In Germany, at Hertha, I had surgery on my Achilles tendon. The worst of all – during a match in Hamburg, a guy hit me and fractured my kneecap. The kneecap sliced the patella – the strongest tendon in the human body – and that finished me. That’s when I retired from football. I just couldn’t go on. I recovered, but I didn’t want to keep going. Everything had become so hard. I could’ve quit, but I didn’t. I’ve told you everything I broke – I had seven operations – but I never gave up. After every surgery, I came back and trained like a horse. I remember, at Hertha, during recovery, they took me to some lake where I jumped around on the sand – and I played my first match back for 120 minutes. The pain was still there, my eyes popping out, but giving up wasn’t an option. I can’t count how many times I played in Germany under injections. That’s my message to others – don’t give up!

Fighting spirit

It’s the same with this. My Siniša is gone, my Po-Bo is gone, my parents are gone… So what now? Are we supposed to give up? All of this is deeply emotional for me – everything I’ve told you. And I tell my children the same. You always have to be ready for the day you’re no longer here. We won’t go any time soon – people live longer now, live better – but… that’s exactly why! Keep fighting. Nothing comes on its own – you have to earn everything. Just like in football, so it is in life. There will always be ups and downs.