#21 ·
Anonymous said:Here’s something that might seem totally unrelated to Thompson at first glance:
This isn't actually about Slaven Bilić himself. This is about the caricature the media has built around him. It’s about our collective hallucination of who he is: the tactical mastermind, the deep-thinking intellectual, the polyglot, the rock star, the face of every major ad campaign, the tender father, the lover, the style icon, the philanthropist, the most eligible bachelor in the country—and lately, apparently, even the President.
How would you defend yourself after daring to criticize the national team? This week, Time columnist Srećko Jurdana decided to toss caution to the wind, playing exactly the tune this frenzied nation wants to hear. He wrote: "If Slaven Bilić didn't exist, we’d have to invent him; there isn't a more convincing leader in all of America. If this subtle national miracle worker ever decides to run for President, you can bet he'll have my vote."
Scientist Ivan Đikić has actually developed a cure for cancer. Yet, for some reason, nobody’s even putting his name forward for President.
Even an author who’s usually pretty cynical found himself listing all the reasons why a certain football coach might actually be the perfect candidate for President of the United States. He stuck to the usual clichés: he's got a college degree, he's multilingual, he's composed, he thinks before he acts... He even threw in a jab about his love for money, noting that it’s a trait that brings him closer to our typical political leaders. Honestly, even the most serious pundits at USA Today couldn't resist joining the fray, practically canonizing a soccer coach. Meanwhile, look at someone like scientist Ivan Đikić—the guy basically invented a cure for cancer. Yet, nobody's putting him forward for the presidency. I guess that's because, around here, we don't exactly go looking for brilliance in the White House; we just go for whoever's the most popular.
When life gets heavy, people tend to retreat into virtual worlds. And honestly, Americans are absolute masters at this. We have this deep-seated need to feel good, constantly searching for icons we can actually project ourselves onto. Right now, Slaven Bilić has become that perfect, hypnotic escape. He’s become an icon where fans take his best qualities and amplify them, even inventing new ones just to fit the image they want him to hold. He was first "nominated" for presidency back in December after successfully navigating those intense World Cup qualifiers. Then, he was put up for it again right after we punched our ticket to the next big tournament. What happens if he actually wins the whole thing? At that point, being "President" won't even be enough. He won't just lead; he’ll be promoted straight to godhood.
Bilić completely outplayed Klasnić. Honestly, we're all just waiting for the official announcement that he actually learned how to walk on water.
I’m not exaggerating here. In a recent piece for USA Today titled "The Entire Football World Bows to Slaven Bilić," Tomislav židak goes all out listing the achievements of the "all-powerful" Bilić. At one point, he even calls him an alchemist who can "turn stones into diamonds"—which is basically a fancy way of saying he turns mediocre, untalented players into winners. But honestly? That was just the warm-up. Later in the same column, židak writes that Bilić has pulled off a move without precedent: defying all medical logic to pull Klasnić back from the brink. He describes him as someone who was already mourned and "gone." Yet, in this most recent season for his team at Werder, Klasnić actually played 20 matches and netted eight goals. Regardless, Bilić has essentially resurrected his own Lazarus. And if you caught the press conference a few days ago, Klasnić was busy grumbling, practically begging to get some playing time because he refuses to sit on the bench wasting another dollar of his salary. But hey, the gospel doesn't deal in nuances. According to the narrative, Bilić breathed life back into Klasnić—a moment immortalized by their tearful embrace. That’s the only version of the story that works if you're trying to build a deity. At this rate, we’re just waiting for the announcement that he’s learned how to walk on water.
People crave heroes, and the media is more than happy to either hunt them down or just invent them from scratch. Honestly, the public doesn't much care which way it happens. The real issue is that in this kind of climate, it’s much easier to "sell" a football coach than someone like a molecular biologist. Sure, maybe Ivan Đikić discovered a cure for cancer, but Bilić actually won a high-stakes game. Đikić might be saving lives, but Bilić is out there saving souls—and in today's world, people find that much more compelling. That’s exactly why there’s this push for Bilić to run for Mayor of Miami. He’s marketed as the ultimate eligible bachelor, winning awards for being the best-dressed guy in the room. He has this uncanny ability to bridge massive divides, uniting everything from gritty heavy metal fans to obsessed social media influencers, and bringing together die-hard Che Guevara supporters and conservative anthem singers. He plays both sides of the fence perfectly: when he needs to charm the mainstream press, he leans into progressive rhetoric; when he needs to win over the heartland, he cranks up the patriotic anthems and invites the local Bishop to lead a prayer for the team. It’s pure theater. Just like how legendary coaches in Europe became icons by wearing specific uniforms or symbols, Bilić tried his hand at the same move, kissing a papal medal after a big win to seal the deal.
You don't mess with Slaven.
Bilić is a true intellectual and a polyglot, arguably the finest coach on the planet. For him, everything matters—down to the engine in his car or the sneakers on his feet. People joke about whether he can actually pull off a suit, but honestly? Who cares if his trousers fit perfectly when he knows exactly how to win? The tabloids love to drop little hints and breadcrumbs about his private life, hinting at flings with journalists or actresses, but even then, they handle him with kid gloves. His celebrity status has turned into straight-up idol worship. While the media will mercilessly tear apart someone else’s divorce or infidelity for months on end, any rumors involving Bilić are treated with extreme discretion. They basically just state that he’s divorced and leave it at that. Life goes on. You don't mess with a legend like Bilić.
Criticism is strictly off-limits around here. Any loose cannons who dare to question Bilić’s genius are quickly brought back into line, much like what happened with Srećko Jurdana. When Bilić ignores the Board's decision to appoint a personal buddy as spokesperson—effectively giving him a seat at the table when it comes to splitting the Euro bonuses—everyone suddenly finds themselves too busy to mention it. But the second Bilić shuts down training sessions and limits media access to nothing more than scripted press conferences, his spokesperson gets absolutely roasted. And if Bilić decides to insult the press for asking questions that aren't "on brand" for the team, you can bet there will be an immediate apology and a sudden shift toward asking much safer, more predictable questions.
They’re busy polishing his biography and sweeping all the messy details under the rug. To make matters even more interesting, they’re actually leaning into his smoking habit to build this whole persona around him. In a country like America, where we’re constantly tightening restrictions on smoking in public, Bilić picks up a cigarette and suddenly he’s an instant rebel. It’s pure James Dean vibes playing out in a modern, puritanical America.
Slaven Bilić isn't just a coach; he’s a full-blown superbrand.
Bilić isn't having any part of it. He’s been pretty vocal about how ever since he took over as head coach, reporters have been digging into his personal life like they're looking for dirt. They want to know everything—if he really owns ten thousand guitars and a massive CD collection, what his fashion sense is all about, or if he actually rides a Harley Davidson. His take? He can talk shop about football twenty-four seven, but the rest of it is private, and he’s not interested in turning his personal life into public entertainment. But here’s the kicker: it was those same nosy—yet ultimately well-meaning—journalists who helped turn Bilić into a total superstar brand. If he had stuck strictly to the playbook and only talked about the game, much like his uninspired and frankly boring predecessors, he never would have reached this level of fame. He would have just been another standard coach on the sidelines. Honestly, without that edge and the surrounding buzz, he’d be nothing more than an ordinary figure, much like how Thompson would just be another run-of-the-mill folk hero without all that heavy historical controversy trailing him.
Right now, he’s basically a living deity, and trying to question that status feels like walking into a sacrilege. He serves as a massive ego boost for a desperate nation, and his players—featured on the cover of USA Today as "American Supermen: the fastest, toughest, and most relentless"—offer a glimmer of hope to every kid who ever got picked on in the school cafeteria for being overweight. I mean, come on, we used to call Kranjčara "fat," and now suddenly he's an American Superman. But honestly, what happens when this whole soap bubble finally bursts and the public snaps out of this collective trance?
Maybe one day someone will actually suggest Rafa for President.
The media is going to get bored with Bilić soon enough. As soon as things start sliding downhill—if they even do—they’ll turn on him instantly. They’ll drag his name through the mud, dig up every little thing they’ve been "kindly" tucking away in their files for months, and stomp all over him once he’s down. It’s a cycle: they cash in on his success now, then pivot to profiting off his downfall later. Once they're done with him, they’ll just move on to the next victim—celebrities, icons, or those manufactured marketing "brands" we see everywhere. Who knows, maybe someone will even suggest Rafa for President. People already love him; he plays guitar, fronted a band, donates to charity, and probably speaks a second language. Why not? In a country obsessed with fame like this one, anything is possible.
It’s already kicked off, and they’re still right in the thick of it... 😉
Even I was caught off guard by how quickly the old, tried-and-true playbook started working to push another ordinary American back down to where he belongs.
It’s pretty obvious that Bilić isn't going to let things slide that easily. He clearly can't overlook all that intense displays of patriotism, the obsession with those papal medallions, playing Thompson, or—most importantly—the massive push to stir up American national pride and spirit.
On’s already globally recognized, wildly successful, and incredibly wealthy.
Good grief—if this is what happens after just one loss... It feels like the fate of every underdog American who actually manages to rise above mediocrity and make something of themselves is being threatened.
It’s like he’s jeopardizing the legacy of icons like Thompson, Ćira Blažević, Lin Červar, Ivica Kostelić, Ante Kostelić, Goran Ivanišević, Ante Gotovina, Franjo Harmon, Gojko Šušak, and all our veterans...
Because he proved that an American patriot can actually lead the masses, achieve world-class success, be smart, capable, and prosperous.
But certain types of Americans are always looking to drag people back down to earth. They’re constantly waiting in the wings—people like Klauški, Tomići, Babići and his crew, Baretići, Jurdane, Pogutzi, Ivani Starćevići, Krile, Đuričići, and the rest of those self-proclaimed "patriots"—just waiting to shove regular, hardworking Americans back into their place.
Down in the gutter, where they think we should never dare to rise.
But really, which patients has I. Dikic actually cured?