"I feel like I'm going to die!"
"I've lost all confidence!"
"How do we even defend against this duo?"
Ramos, Pepe, and Marcelo all hung their heads in despair.
Since the first day of the scrimmage, every single day they had to face the terrifying duo of Suker and Kaka.
Suker alone was already difficult enough to defend against.
Now add Kaka!
Marcelo even gave Kaka a nickname: "The Ankle Terminator." With his rapid dribbling and consecutive sudden changes of direction, this put extremely high demands on his own ankles—and was a brutal test for the defenders' ankles as well.
Even Arbeloa didn't last until the end of the training period—he sprained his ankle due to Kaka's relentless, freakish directional changes.
The most critical thing was, during the entire process, Arbeloa never even touched Kaka.
Besides Arbeloa, there was Šrňa.
"Dario, you okay?" Ramos turned his head and asked with concern.
Since day one of the scrimmage, Šrňa had been nutmegged by Suker every day.
After a week, he didn't even know how many times Suker had dribbled through him.
He was dumbfounded by all those nutmegs!
"Why can't I control this damn leg of mine!" Šrňa's eyes were reddened and bloodshot.
He even looked at his right leg with full hatred.
Hiss~~~
Marcelo sucked in a breath and shook his head. "He's gone crazy!"
"So how long is this training supposed to last? I can't hold on any longer!" Pepe complained.
Being bullied every day, forced to defend passively—
At this rate, they'd be kicked dumb sooner or later.
The first week was a physical test.
Pintus used the harshest methods to torture their bodies.
The third week was a psychological test.
If their mentality wasn't strong enough, they'd break down directly.
"Are they alright?" Assistant coach Faria asked worriedly.
From the first day of the third week, Mourinho had imposed brutal defensive training on Real Madrid's back line.
Almost every day, they suffered from the Suker + Kaka duo.
However, their improvement was also rapid.
Only, mentally they might develop some problems!
"They can still chat, so they're fine!" Mourinho said calmly. "Next week, I'll find relatively weaker opponents to help them regain confidence."
"Next week we start the warm-up matches?" Faria asked.
Mourinho nodded. "Three warm-up matches, then the Spanish Super Cup. One week after the Super Cup, the new season starts!"
"A total of four weeks, nearly a month of training. Our team is gradually taking shape. Although there are still some rough edges, these will be polished through matches. Mostly details."
"Not enough?" Faria shook his head. "Compared to Inter Milan, Real Madrid's back line is only slightly behind."
In one month, Mourinho had almost rebuilt Real Madrid's defense from the ground up, looking brand new.
That was already remarkable.
"Not enough!" Mourinho said coldly. "Far from enough!"
At first, Mourinho wanted to build a top-level team.
But now, after seeing Suker and Kaka's combination, their counterattack power shocked Mourinho greatly.
Such a powerful counterattacking duo must be paired with the strongest defense!
Only then wouldn't their potential be wasted!
Mourinho and Ancelotti were not the same type of coaches.
But Mourinho highly agreed with one of Ancelotti's sayings:
Attack relies on talent, defense relies on discipline.
In other words,
Attack is innate—no amount of training can easily produce top-tier attackers.
Defense is different.
Through hard training and good discipline, you can form a top-class defense line.
And now, Real Madrid already possessed the most elite counterattack duo—
A spear that could pierce any iron wall.
But they needed the strongest shield.
Before, Mourinho liked the strongest shield.
Now, he wanted both.
He wanted to create a historic lineup!
Thinking this, Mourinho took a deep breath and turned to leave the training ground.
"Get Karim to come see me!"
Faria nodded. "Alright!"
Benzema nervously walked to Mourinho's office.
He didn't know why Mourinho wanted to see him.
But usually, when the coach calls someone alone, it's not good news.
No matter how hard Benzema thought, he couldn't think of any recent mistake.
On the contrary, he had been working hard in training, diligent and conscientious.
His scrimmage performance was not outstanding, but not bad either.
It was just that Suker and Kaka's brilliance overshadowed everything!
Benzema knocked gently on Mourinho's office door.
Knock knock!
"Come in!"
Benzema pushed open the door.
"Sir!"
He respectfully greeted.
Mourinho was sitting at his desk, looking at some documents. He gestured toward the guest sofa.
"Sit for a while first."
Benzema nodded and sat down.
After about two minutes, Mourinho walked toward the sofa.
"Training has been tough lately, right? But all for our honor."
Benzema's heart jolted: "Not tough! I can feel myself getting stronger and braver!"
Mourinho smiled. "That's good, I'm relieved. Want some coffee?"
Benzema was anxious but quietly said, "Thank you!"
"No need to be so polite." Mourinho personally poured coffee and handed it to him with a smile. "I hope our relationship can be closer, like friends, honest with each other."
Yeah, right! Benzema thought sarcastically but smiled on the surface.
"A relaxed atmosphere can enhance the team spirit!"
Mourinho nodded with a smile, sipped the coffee, then put the cup down slowly.
"Karim,"
Benzema tightened his lips.
Here it comes!
"What do you think your role is in this team?"
Thump! Thump!
His heart pounded fiercely.
He knew his answer would determine his future development at Real Madrid, even his position as a starter.
The usual answer should be "Obediently follow orders."
But Mourinho obviously wouldn't like such an answer.
From Benzema's understanding, Mourinho was an extreme personality.
Such a person disliked ambiguous answers and flattery.
He needed a firm reply!
With that in mind, Benzema gritted his teeth.
"A pivot."
Hmm.
Mourinho pondered. Benzema's heart almost exploded.
After a while, Mourinho smiled, "Looks like you took your tactical lessons seriously!"
Passed!
Benzema was overjoyed.
"I'm also part of this team, I will do my best."
Mourinho nodded, changing to a more comfortable posture.
This made Benzema sure he passed.
Mourinho was about to talk candidly with him.
Indeed, Mourinho said:
"I'm planning to make Suker and Kaka the two wingers, and the center forward needs to be a pivot. The pivot's role is to constantly expand the tactical characteristics of the two wingers. You get what I mean?"
Benzema immediately nodded.
In other words, he was to do the dirty and hard work.
Pivot play, movement off the ball, drawing defensive attention, etc.
Seeing Benzema so sharp, Mourinho was pleased.
He liked dealing with smart people—it didn't require much unnecessary talk.
"In my tactics, Suker and Kaka are the two attack points on the wings. Their runs may squeeze your space, so you might have to sacrifice a bit."
"No problem!"
"When attacking down the wings, the characteristics of both wings will be fully exploited. Left wing Suker and right wing Kaka will coordinate in attack. When they tuck inside to link up with Alonso in midfield, our fullbacks Marcelo and Šrňa will overlap."
"The key is attacking through five lanes!"
Mourinho pulled out a tactics board, pointing at the positions:
"Left wing, left half-space, center, right half-space, right wing!"
"When the wingers tuck inside, the fullbacks overlap!"
"Your role is a false nine. In the upcoming warm-up matches, I'll focus on observing your performance. Don't disappoint me!"
Benzema immediately nodded, "Don't worry, sir!"
Mourinho smiled, "You may leave now, call Higuaín for me!"
Benzema walked out of the office, closed the door behind him, and leaned against the wall, breathing out slowly.
The hardest hurdle was over!
He guessed Mourinho's thoughts, secured his place, and left a good impression.
That was very important.
Five minutes later, Higuaín knocked on Mourinho's office door.
Facing Higuaín, Mourinho asked the same question:
"Higuaín, what do you think your role in the team is?"
"Goal scorer."
Mourinho: "Accept adjustments?"
Higuaín seriously said, "I'm a natural scorer. I think you can trust me. If you give me chances, I will repay you richly!"
Mourinho nodded, "Understood, you may leave!"
Higuaín was stunned for a moment, blinking, "No other matters?"
Mourinho shook his head, "No."
"Alright then!" Higuaín left with multiple glances back.
Mourinho's smile faded after Higuaín left.
He drew an X on Higuaín's file.
During one day, Mourinho spoke to almost the entire first team except a few players.
Some were like Benzema, sharp and awake.
Some were like Higuaín, clueless.
And some were confused.
Like Di María.
"How did you answer?"
On the way back, Suker asked.
Di María was driving, "I said I accept any arrangement. Then the coach told me the tactical plan and said I might be a substitute."
Di María was a bit disheartened.
Šrňa said, "Don't worry, you passed!"
Suker asked, "What else?"
Šrňa: "If the tactics were explained in detail, basically you're a starter."
Di María thought for a moment, "It didn't seem too detailed."
"In that case, you're a substitute, but a high-ranking one. You'll get plenty of playing time. If starters get injured, you step in. There are many opportunities in cup games, Champions League, and league."
Šrňa continued, "If they don't tell you tactics and just encourage, that means wait for your chance."
"The worst is when he say nothing."
"What does that mean?" Suker asked.
Šurňa: "If the club plans to clear players or is short of money, the first to go is the silent one."
Di María breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm second tier! Not bad."
Suker pointed at himself, "What about me? I wasn't called at all!"
Kaka turned his head in agreement, "That's unsettling!"
They were the only two not called in.
Šurňa rolled his eyes.
They're 'core' players!
No need to be called.
The fourth week began with the warm-up matches.
This was the last chance for adjustments before the season.
After three weeks of training, it was time to play games.
Just building the car in the garage all day wasn't a good idea.
Mourinho picked three opponents of different levels and styles.
First opponent: Feyenoord from the Eredivisie.
Second: Porto from the Primeira Liga.
Third: Inter Milan from Serie A.
All chosen personally by Mourinho.
Actually, the second opponent was supposed to be Arsenal.
But Arsenal refused to play Real Madrid in a warm-up.
So Porto was chosen.
Since Feyenoord also had upcoming warm-ups, Real Madrid's entire team went to the Netherlands for the warm-up match.
Feyenoord was also well prepared.
This was a rare chance to face a top club and test their level.
For this match, Mourinho had no intention of holding back.
The entire starting lineup played the first half.
Lineups:
Real Madrid (4-3-3):GK: CasillasDef: Šrňa, Ramos, Pepe, MarceloMid: Khedira, Alonso, DiarraForw: Kaka, Benzema, Suker
Feyenoord (4-4-2):GK: Van DijkDef: De Vrij, Leerdam, Bahia, DekkerMid: Mostert, Fer, Wijnaldum, BruinsForw: Cabral, Castenio
At Feyenoord's stadium,
Feyenoord players gathered nervously.
"So nervous!"
"Didn't expect to get Real Madrid!"
"Wonder if we can catch Mourinho's eye!"
"Forget it, unless it's Wijnaldum."
Everyone turned to the young dark-skinned player with dreadlocks, Wijnaldum.
He was hailed as the Dutch hope.
Since joining Feyenoord in 2007, he had shown brilliant skills and great talent.
Unfortunately, Feyenoord didn't qualify for the Champions League, so this talented youngster lacked chances to face top teams.
"They'll be shocked!" Feyenoord players were confident about Wijnaldum.
The young Wijnaldum stared at Real Madrid.
That white jersey was the dream of countless young players.
The club gathered stars like Suker, Kaka, Alonso, Benzema, Ramos, Šurňa, Casillas.
Wijnaldum's eyes were full of excitement.
He was about to challenge this top team.
At the same time, his eyes fixed on Suker.
Suker stood with hands on hips, listening to Mourinho's instructions, expression serious.
At this moment, Suker felt a burning gaze.
He turned to look.
Wijnaldum was startled.
His eyes became evasive.
His hands fidgeted nervously, unable to settle.
He looked extremely flustered.
Finally, Wijnaldum thought he shouldn't be so timid.
He turned back to Suker and gave an awkward smile.
Suker raised an eyebrow.
Looks like he found a fan!
I'm gonna mesmerize you!
"Alright, no holding back in the first half. Show what we've got. Big substitutions in the second half. Everyone will get playing time," Mourinho said.
Real Madrid players started walking onto the pitch.
On the other side, Feyenoord players also came out.
Both teams lined up, ready for the warm-up to start.
"Wijnaldum, this is your moment!"
"Show them how strong you are!"
"Hey! Your idol's right there, play well!"
Feyenoord players half teased, half encouraged.
Wijnaldum got energized.
He must perform.
"Messing things up!"
"Push forward! Push forward!"
"Charge!"
Feyenoord players aggressively attacked.
They felt Real Madrid was no big deal.
They quickly won the ball and launched their offense.
Feyenoord's attack was fierce.
They kept trying to break through on the wings.
But they never found a good opportunity.
"So stable?"
"They're being trapped!"
The Feyenoord substitutes watched anxiously on the sidelines.
Although Feyenoord seemed to be attacking, they were actually being strangled in their own half.
Marcelo crouched slightly, watching Cabral's fancy footwork in front of him, repeatedly trying to dribble.
Slow!
Too slow!
After facing Kaka, the "Ankle Terminator" style moves, Cabral's dribbling was nothing but slow.
Marcelo calmly watched.
Just as Cabral tried to change direction again, Marcelo suddenly squeezed in.
He trapped Cabral behind, snatched the ball, and passed to Alonso.
"Counterattack!" Marcelo shouted.
Alonso received, quickly flicked the ball, and immediately spun a long pass.
Benzema dropped back to open space.
He lightly jumped and flicked his head to redirect the ball to the left side.
Suker quickly followed, meeting the descending ball.
He flipped his foot and gently lifted it.
The Feyenoord fullback was too late to brake.
The ball flew past the fullback and fell behind him.
Suker accelerated under the descending ball.
He turned his body and swung his left foot hard, no control, a direct shot-pass.
Bang!
The ball flew like a sharp spear diagonally toward the far post.
There—
With rapid footsteps,
A white No.8 figure lightly jumped.
He used the instep to flick the ball.
The ball went straight into the goal.
The entire stadium fell silent instantly!
Feyenoord players widened their eyes, holding their heads.
God!
What did they just witness?
What kind of counterattack was that by Real Madrid?
From Alonso to the goal, only five touches.
The most important thing: during this five-pass counterattack, the ball never touched the ground.