I Am Jose-Chapter 147 - : The Beast Bows Down in Awe

Didier Drogba was well aware of his weaknesses—despite his rugged appearance, he wasn't as brainless as some assumed. If he were, he wouldn't have continued improving even at the age of 30.

He knew exactly what his biggest flaw was—his footwork. That had always been his weakest point. Despite growing up in France and training under the French system, he never developed the technical finesse typical of European Latin-style football. His ball control was, frankly, painful to watch.

There were reasons for this. First, in his early years, he was more focused on having fun—he hadn't even considered playing football professionally until he was sixteen. He relied heavily on his physicality and neglected technical refinement. Second, his playing style simply didn't align with intricate footwork. He preferred an open, direct approach, and those small, fancy techniques? He neither had the patience to learn them nor the ability to master them.

So when José asked him about his shortcomings, Drogba hesitated for a moment before reluctantly answering, "It's probably my footwork..."

As he spoke, he braced himself, expecting José to immediately prescribe drills to improve his dribbling—maybe have him emulate Eto'o's technique. Damn, if I could do that, I would've learned it a long time ago!

To his surprise, José shook his head. "No. I mean, sure, your footwork is average, but that's not your biggest weakness."

Drogba was stunned.

Ever since he started playing, French coaches had constantly criticized his lack of technique. He had even failed to impress PSG during a trial because of it. And this was France—the heart of champagne football! From Just Fontaine to Platini, from the magic trio of Giresse, Tigana, and Fernández to the likes of Ginola, Djorkaeff, and Zidane—every great French player had dazzling technical skills. Growing up in this environment, Drogba had heard the same critique over and over: "Your footwork needs work."

Over time, he had accepted it as fact.

But now, here was this young coach telling him that wasn't his biggest problem.

If my god-awful technique isn't my worst flaw, then what the hell is?

With so many weaknesses, am I even fit to be a professional footballer?

That single sentence made Drogba begin to take José seriously.

Up until now, he hadn't cared much for football outside of France, so he wasn't familiar with José's achievements over the past two seasons. When he arrived at Mallorca, he had assumed José was just some rich kid who got the coaching job because his father owned the club. He had been polite but not particularly respectful.

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But now? He was genuinely curious about what José had to say.

"Footwork can be improved gradually," José explained. "Your fundamentals aren't bad—you can dribble decently enough. And given your physical attributes, lack of fancy footwork isn't a big deal. Plenty of top strikers aren't great dribblers but still score tons of goals. Take Alan Shearer, for example. He almost never dribbled past defenders, yet he scored more goals than anyone. He was the greatest English striker of the last decade."

"You mean..." Drogba found himself unconsciously using a more respectful tone. José's words had opened his eyes to a whole new way of thinking.

"You need to improve your finishing," José stated firmly. "That's your biggest weakness."

He continued, "You spent three seasons at Le Mans. In 1998-99, you were a backup and only played twice, so we can ignore that. But in your second season, you became a starter. You played 30 matches in Ligue 2 and scored only seven goals. That's not a good return, considering Ligue 2 isn't exactly top-tier competition. You were Le Mans' main striker, got the most chances, yet your goal tally was underwhelming.

"I've watched all your games from that season. You played well—you used your power to disrupt defenses and created plenty of chances for yourself. But you wasted most of them."

José clicked his mouse and pulled up a video on his computer. He gestured for Drogba to come over.

"Take a look, Didier."

Drogba leaned in, only to see himself in a match—standing right in front of an open goal. He swung his leg... and blasted the ball into the stands.

Even with his dark complexion, Drogba felt his face flush.

"Your physicality creates opportunities, but your finishing lets you down," José said, patting him on the shoulder. "And that's your real problem."

He played more clips—Drogba bulldozing through defenders with sheer force, only to squander golden chances with poor finishing. It was a full highlight reel of wasted opportunities.

Now, Drogba was fully convinced.

No coach had ever pointed this out to him before. Since he started playing at six years old, every coach had told him to work on his technique—none had ever told him to focus on finishing.

But José had identified the issue immediately.

And he was absolutely right.

Even if I don't improve my footwork, my physicality alone is enough to create chances. But what's the point of creating chances if I can't convert them?

José continued, "And you also need to be more careful with your body. Yes, you're physically dominant, but that doesn't mean you should charge around recklessly. You're still human. Even machines wear out over time. If you rely solely on brute force, you'll keep getting injured, and your physical attributes will decline."

Drogba nodded. He had suffered multiple injuries last season, and they had been frustrating. No one wanted to spend more time in the medical room than on the pitch.

"What should I do?" he asked, eager to improve.

"You need to be smarter about when to use your strength. Work more with your teammates. You don't need to bulldoze your way from midfield all the way to goal. Here at Mallorca, your job is simple: battle in the box, position yourself well, and finish the chances your teammates create."

José smiled. "So the first thing you need to work on is your finishing."

"How do I improve it?"

"By practicing your shooting."

José's answer was simple. "Starting today, all your extra training will be focused on shooting—finishing from different angles inside the box, poaching, long-range shots... Forget about fancy flicks and chips. Just work on your power shots. Your main goal is to make sure every shot at least hits the target. No more missing open goals."

"That was just a one-time mistake, coach," Drogba grumbled.

"Then let's make sure it never happens again. In professional football, you won't get that many chances. We'll be facing top teams in La Liga and the Champions League. You can't afford to waste opportunities."

José grinned. "Train hard. I'm looking forward to seeing you dominate in La Liga."

"No problem!" Drogba thumped his chest, his confidence soaring.

It wasn't blind optimism—José's plan made sense. Power shots? I've got power in abundance. Just need to aim better.

Seeing Drogba's newfound respect, José knew his efforts had paid off. A player's attitude determined the effectiveness of training.

With a slight smirk, he thought to himself:

A single statement, and the beast bows down in awe...

Now that's what I call true technical mastery.