"We need to play with more momentum! Show me your passion! Don't act like cowards! We have to confront them, we have to compete for every single ball!"
The voice of Lyon's coach, Rémi Garde, rang out loudly in the locker room.
In stark contrast to his passionate tone, the players' faces were filled with confusion.
You want us to confront and compete, but shouldn't you give us some actual instructions?
Ever since Garde had taken over as head coach, they had found every match a struggle.
This guy was always ordering everyone around without ever providing any concrete tactical plan.
Everyone knew they needed to fight for possession and get stuck in.
But without a feasible strategy and specific tactics, how were they supposed to execute anything?
They also wanted to limit Suker!
But if they poured defensive resources into stopping Suker, wouldn't that leave the right flank completely exposed?
Wasn't the second goal they conceded precisely because of a problem on the right wing?
And yet he was still obsessing over Suker on the left!
The whole world knew how difficult Suker was to contain, and yet he still thought they could limit him.
They didn't even know how to begin criticizing this half-baked coach.
If it weren't for the fact that he was a Lyon legend and the current manager, they would have already torn into him.
Compared to the "passionate" Garde, José Mourinho's tactical instructions were far more measured.
In a calm, level tone, he pointed at the tactics board.
"The second half, we maintain the original tactical structure. However, during flank attacks, Srna looks for more opportunities to overlap. If Bell is holding the width and Khedira is in the half-space, Srna pushes higher to increase our control in midfield."
"As for Suker, in the second half, I won't restrict your movement. You can operate on the left flank or through the center. Use your ability to draw defenders to create space for your teammates. If they neglect to mark you, you have the freedom to make your own runs and push forward."
Suker nodded and raised his hand. "If Benzema drops deep to receive the ball, can I move into the center-forward position?"
Mourinho nodded. "Yes. As I said, I won't restrict your movement. Left flank or central areas, you can operate freely. If you see a goal-scoring opportunity, you take the shot!"
Mourinho was giving Suker his full support.
Freedom of movement and an unlimited license to shoot!
Mourinho believed that with these two conditions met, Suker could produce spectacular offensive performances.
Ever since the match against Atlético Madrid, he had stopped restricting Suker to a specific zone, instead granting him the liberty to roam.
He was confident that with Suker's sharp instincts, the player knew better than anyone where a scoring opportunity would appear.
Mourinho finished with some defensive instructions before clapping his hands together. "Alright, gentlemen, it's time to go win this match."
For the second half, the two teams switched sides.
Real Madrid's players were in high spirits; they knew exactly how to close out this victory.
In contrast, the Lyon players looked lost and disoriented.
During the break, Garde had done a lot of shouting, but the core problems remained completely unsolved!
The guy just went on about subjective things like morale, spirit, and grit, but gave precisely zero concrete instructions.
Facing Real Madrid's relentless attacks down their right wing, they were still clueless about how to defend.
"This half-baked coach!" Lovren couldn't help but mutter under his breath.
Hearing this, Hugo Lloris, behind him, quickly moved closer.
"My view is better from back here; I'll call out more instructions. If I shout your name, that's the signal to drop back immediately. It means Bale is about to make a forward run."
Lovren nodded. "Understood!"
He paused, then pursed his lips. "But what about the left side?"
The left side was where Suker was!
And this was second-half Suker. Could they really hold him back?
Lloris was stumped, too. How was he supposed to know how to stop Suker?
Right now, they could only take it one step at a time.
So, it was all that idiot coach's fault.
What was the point of all that useless shouting?
The second half began quickly.
"No changes for either side during the interval. Real Madrid continue with their game plan of attacking down the right flank. With Gareth Bale in scintillating form, Lyon's defense is under constant pressure."
"Under this sustained pressure, Lyon's defensive block is gradually being pulled over to their right side…"
At that moment, the camera cut to the Lyon coach, who was screaming toward the pitch.
"Left! Left! Suker! Watch Suker!"
For God's sake!
The Lyon players were growing exasperated.
They genuinely felt like punching him.
Shouting useless garbage!
Of course they knew Suker was dangerous, but the clear and present danger was coming from the right flank!
This guy hadn't offered a single tactical adjustment, all he did was yell.
What good was yelling?
Suker drifted between the left wing and the central areas.
As the game wore on, a strange look began to form on Suker's face.
Lyon's defensive shape felt… odd.
Real Madrid was attacking down the right.
To defend, Lyon could either stack that side with defenders, or maintain a balanced shape and mark man-for-man.
But right now, some of their players were pulled to the left, some were stretched to the right.
The entire central axis was wide open!
"Is this a trap?" Suker couldn't figure it out.
If it was a trap, they were being incredibly generous with the bait.
Suker glanced over and saw Kaká also frequently looking toward the center of the pitch.
He too seemed puzzled.
Their eyes met. A silent understanding passed between them.
Let's test it.
After this wordless communication, Suker started pulling wide to the left, stretching the defense.
As he drifted out, part of Lyon's defensive focus shifted to track him to the left flank.
Another part was already preoccupied with the threat on the right.
This created a massive gap, roughly five yards across, right through the center of the pitch!
Kaká promptly accelerated into this vacant space.
"???"
Mourinho tilted his head, watching as Kaká glided into the gap. Simultaneously, Bale cut the ball back across the penalty area.
Kaká met it with a first-time, low drive.
Thump!
Lloris managed to get down and palm the ball away at the very last moment.
"This gap…"
Mourinho was utterly bewildered.
What was happening?
What was going on with Lyon's defense?
A gap that big had nearly cost them a goal.
And then…
Just three minutes later, Real Madrid poured forward again.
Once more, they found and exploited the yawning chasm in Lyon's central axis.
Again, it started with Bell driving down the right and whipping in a cross.
Benzema controlled it and laid it off perfectly into the path of Kaká.
Kaká connected sweetly, lashing a shot toward goal!
Swish!
This time, Lloris had no chance.
The ball nestled into the bottom corner, just inside the left post.
"Real Madrid's third goal!! In the 67th minute, Kaká with a low, driven finish!"
"A huge gap has appeared in Lyon's defense once again; this isn't the first time. But they've failed to adjust. This is a gap right through the central core! When Kaká took the shot, there wasn't a single Lyon player near him to apply pressure. Lyon simply must make an adjustment; this is a tactical error of monumental proportions!"
The French commentator exclaimed, sounding utterly exasperated.
He felt Lyon was playing in complete disarray. The first half had been messy enough, but this colossal gap in the second half was inexplicable.
In European football, where compactness and organized spacing are paramount, the distance between players must be meticulously managed.
The emergence of such a huge gap pointed to profound issues, likely tactical or even systemic failures.
"Where is the midfield? Where are the holding players? Where have you all gone?"
Garde bellowed toward the pitch, his face crimson.
By now, the Lyon players' frustration was boiling over.
Especially the defensive midfielder, Maxime Gonalons, who spun around and yelled back in fury:
"You told me to follow Suker, so I did! You told me to man-mark him, so I went! What the hell else do you want me to do? The gap in the middle has nothing to do with me; I did exactly what you told me to do! Damn it, just shut up!"
Gonalons threw his arms up in frustration and disgust.
Garde's face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he began screaming back, a torrent of angry words.
Gonalons, now equally incensed, wasn't about to back down.
One was on the field, the other on the sideline, and they began a full-blown, furious shouting match.
Suker found himself standing almost between them, his head turning back and forth as if watching a tennis match.
The only problem was, he couldn't understand a word they were saying!
Suker immediately sought out Benzema.
"What are they yelling about?" Seeing Suker's keen, gossipy expression, Benzema could only sigh in resignation.
Of course, what frustrated him more was seeing his old club Lyon in such a dire state.
He didn't really know what kind of coach Garde was.
But watching him rant and rave on the sideline without offering any useful guidance pretty much confirmed his coaching incompetence.
Benzema believed Lyon's abysmal performance in this match was largely due to their manager's utter uselessness, even his active harm.
After getting a rough translation from Benzema, Suker couldn't help but grin.
A manager who screws things up could really sink a team!
He remembered his first European qualifier with the national team, against Russia. They'd lost that match precisely because of then-coach Slaven Bilić's inexperience and lack of tactical sharpness.
An incompetent general tires out his own army!
And that was especially true for a guy like Garde, who didn't seem to contribute anything positive.
Suker figured this guy probably wouldn't last much longer.
After this match, the Lyon locker room was likely to descend into pure chaos.
In the 70th minute, Real Madrid made substitutions.
Gareth Bale and Kaká, both outstanding in the match, were taken off.
Real Madrid sat deeper now, seeing out the game comfortably.
For the remaining twenty minutes, Lyon's attacks remained disjointed and clumsy. The players were visibly seething, unable to maintain any composure.
Their play was ragged, making it easy for Real Madrid to defend.
Los Blancos even threatened on the counter-attack a few times!
No further goals materialized, however.
After 90 minutes, the match concluded with Lyon falling 0-3 to Real Madrid at home.
Real Madrid had secured their third victory in the Champions League group stage.
The win put everyone in a good mood, and the atmosphere was light.
BANG!
Suddenly, the door to the locker room swung open violently and Mourinho stormed in.
Behind him, Iker Casillas followed, his face like thunder.
Suker noticed Mourinho was visibly stifling his rage, and Casillas too looked deeply upset.
Had something happened between these two at the post-match press conference?
The locker room fell silent.
Mourinho turned to glare at Casillas, his eyes burning with anger.
But he took a sharp, deep breath and seemed to forcibly compose himself.
Mourinho scanned the room and announced coldly, "From this moment on, as a team, we will not be accepting any interviews."
Suker looked at him, surprised.
Mourinho continued, "I will handle the communication with Mr. Pérez regarding this matter…"
He paused, then added with clear sarcasm, "What I mean is, certain individuals need not bother going behind my back to give their little reports!"
Everyone instinctively glanced toward Casillas.
Casillas's expression darkened even further, his eyes flashing with anger.
Suker and the others were burning with curiosity. What on earth had happened after that press conference?
That evening, the team returned to Madrid, Spain.
The next day, after the training session concluded, Marcelo sought out Suker and the others.
"I found out what happened after the press conference!" Marcelo said, his voice a conspiratorial whisper.
Everyone looked at him, intrigued.
Marcelo continued in a hushed tone, "I asked the press officer. They…"
Suker waved a hand to cut him off. "It's just us here," he said, gesturing around the empty patch of field. Only Marcelo, Suker, Kaká, and Srna were present.
Marcelo blinked, then chuckled awkwardly. "Right. So, the whole thing started because a reporter asked Casillas about the tensions between the Real Madrid and Barcelona players within the Spanish national team setup."
"And Casillas replied: 'I want to apologize for the current situation. As the captain, I feel I haven't fulfilled my duties properly. But I believe these misunderstandings will be resolved soon. We still trust each other; we are a team!'"
Srna nodded. "Sounds fine. Standard captain-speak. Very diplomatic."
Marcelo agreed. "It was! There was nothing wrong with it. But Mourinho completely lost his temper over it!"
"Why?" Srna was confused. Kaká also looked puzzled.
Suker, however, couldn't help but wince. He thought he knew exactly why Mourinho had exploded.
In a different timeline, the conflict between Mourinho and Casillas had erupted completely after a particularly fiery Clásico.
The match had been filled with animosity, and both sides were seething afterwards.
Casillas, as the national team captain, worried that the bad blood would poison the atmosphere in the Spanish camp and cause a rift.
Trying to be proactive, he called up Carles Puyol, his Barcelona counterpart, and they had a conciliatory conversation.
It helped ease the immediate tensions.
But not long after, Puyol mentioned the call in a media interview.
When Mourinho found out, he was livid. He publicly confronted Casillas in front of the whole squad, accusing him of betrayal.
With things already out in the open, Casillas fired right back.
Their argument was fierce and bitter.
From that point on, the conflict was out in the open. Mourinho benched Casillas, and not even a personal plea from President Florentino Pérez could make him change his mind.
After a season of this, Casillas, along with Sergio Ramos and other key players, forced a confrontation with Florentino, which ultimately led to Mourinho's departure.
However, Casillas's own form never truly recovered afterwards.
This current incident felt hauntingly similar.
Mourinho likely perceived Casillas's public apology and call for unity as a rejection of his own methods, an indirect criticism, even a betrayal.
For now, though, it seemed they hadn't openly torn the mask off yet.
Mourinho had held his tongue in the locker room, and Casillas hadn't escalated further.
As long as the conflict didn't erupt publicly in front of the entire squad, there was still a chance, however slim, for reconciliation.
"Their relationship is getting worse and worse," Marcelo murmured.
"Nothing we can do about it," Srna sighed. "Mourinho wants complete control over the locker room. Casillas will never give up his influence and status there." He paused and looked directly at Suker. "You're the same, I suppose?"
Suker just shrugged.
Srna sighed again. In terms of personal loyalty, Mourinho, his 'second teacher,' was undoubtedly the one he felt closer to. He was among the few players who supported the manager.
A part of him wished Suker would also back Mourinho, but he knew Suker's personality wouldn't allow it.
"The fact that Mourinho held back this time… maybe it means things won't blow up completely this season. At least we still have a common goal for now."
Suker felt a pressure to become more vocal in the locker room, to mediate.
He also made a mental note to tell Marcelo to work harder at lightening the mood.
Both Casillas and Mourinho were in positions where saying the wrong thing could easily make things worse.
This was where someone like Suker needed to step up and use his influence.
He already felt a headache coming on.
He even briefly entertained the thought of whether he should just side with Casillas and force Mourinho out.
He knew he could never truly side with Mourinho.
The reason was simple: Mourinho's desire for control was absolute.
He couldn't tolerate any dissent, any opposing power centers. And Suker, with his strong will and natural tendency to form his own group of allies, represented exactly that.
It was something Mourinho would never allow.
Suker wasn't prepared to suppress his own nature and simply obey.
And Mourinho would never compromise either!
If they joined forces to oust Casillas, it would only be a matter of time before Mourinho turned his focus to clipping Suker's wings.
The ultimatum would be clear: fall in line completely, or get out.
That was just the kind of person Mourinho was.
Therefore, for Suker, the last-resort nuclear option was to facilitate Mourinho's exit and usher in Carlo Ancelotti as the new 'Captain' of Madrid.
Ancelotti's tenure at AC Milan had proven he was a master at managing superstar egos.
He didn't force players into rigid boxes; he communicated, he managed, and through that, he achieved his tactical goals.
In another timeline, Ancelotti had indeed been the one to succeed Mourinho at Real Madrid.
He began the beloved 'First Era of the Gentle Captain.'
His eventual departure was largely due to being screwed over by Gareth Bale!
After all, who could have predicted that Bale would go over the manager's head and write a letter to Florentino Pérez complaining about Ancelotti's tactics?
This deeply angered the normally unflappable Ancelotti, who later criticized Bale more harshly in his autobiography than any other player he'd ever worked with, even those he'd had known conflicts with.
But now, with Suker here, Bale wouldn't be able to cause such trouble.
Coupled with Suker's excellent relationship with Ancelotti, his position at the club would be incredibly secure.
As long as Ancelotti didn't insist on having full control over transfers—a privilege Florentino guarded jealously—the Italian's reign would be long and prosperous.