Luka Modrić wasn’t born into comfort — he learned resilience before he learned football. Growing up in war-torn Croatia, his childhood was shaped by loss, fear, and displacement. He lost his grandfather during the Balkan War. His family fled their home. He lived as a refugee, far from safety, far from stability. Football wasn’t a dream. It was an escape. They called him too small. Too weak. Too fragile to survive professional football. But they underestimated what hardship had built inside him. As a boy, Modrić trained wherever he could — hotel parking lots, empty spaces, places where football was the only silence from the noise of war. He carried grief instead of privilege. Discipline instead of comfort. And a quiet determination that never asked for permission. When he reached Europe, the doubts followed him. Even at Real Madrid, many questioned the signing. Some called him a mistake. A risk. He didn’t respond with words. He responded with time. With vision. W...