I Am Jose-Chapter 185 - : José’s Plan

Samuel Eto'o spread his arms and sprinted across the pitch, brimming with confidence.

The goal he had just scored was a classic Eto'o strike—exploiting the open space behind the opposition's defense, using his blistering speed to tear through the backline, and finishing clinically. However, this time, Eto'o could clearly feel his recent progress.

His dribbling while running at full speed had improved, his control over the ball was much better, and all of this allowed him to be calmer and more precise when finishing. He finally understood why José had insisted on refining his already solid footwork during training.

"You're fast, but you can't rely on speed alone. A striker needs more than just pace—he needs finishing ability and the skill to link up with teammates. Mallorca can't always rely on counterattacks, and you won't always have one-on-one chances. You must improve your movement inside the box, your positioning, and your ability to combine with teammates. These are the areas you need to work on."

Eto'o was grateful to José. Though the coach hadn't given him much personal instruction lately, the advice he had provided before had guided him whenever he felt lost.

On the sidelines, José smiled and turned to Didier Drogba. "See that, Didier? That's speed. Samuel has absolute pace—it's his natural gift, something few can match. When you add the right elements to such a talent, it becomes the foundation of a player's success."

"But you, Didier, your gift is your physique—absolute physical strength. That's your natural advantage. If you want to thrive on the pitch, you need to complement it with other skills—finishing, link-up play, movement."

José then looked toward Eto'o, who was celebrating with his teammates.

"Absolute speed, combined with absolute power—I can't wait to see a forward line like that in action. And behind you two, there's Ronaldinho—an absolute magician with the ball. Speed, strength, and technique—these are the three most crucial attributes for an attacking line. When the three of you reach your peak together, what kind of Mallorca will we see? What will we be capable of achieving?"

Hearing José's words, Drogba couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement.

He had always known that José valued him, but he never realized just how much.

José's words carried a clear message—Drogba would be an essential figure in Mallorca's attacking plans, just as important as Ronaldinho, the team's creative heart, and Eto'o, last season's top scorer.

Notably, José didn't mention Luke, the team's current top scorer, which was almost an unspoken promise that Drogba would soon take his place.

Of course, Drogba knew better than to voice any of this. If word got out, he'd be the first to suffer the consequences. So he kept his mouth shut.

Mallorca led 2-0 at halftime, and the players were in high spirits, celebrating Eto'o's brace.

Eto'o had been under immense pressure due to a recent goal drought, something his teammates had all noticed. Now, with three goals in two games, he had rediscovered his form, and everyone was genuinely happy for him.

José clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "We played well in the first half, but now I want you all to calm down. Close your eyes for a moment, take a breath, and forget about the two goals."

"Celta Vigo will come out fighting in the second half—that's guaranteed. They're a tough team, and two goals won't kill their spirit. This match is crucial for them in the race for the top four. The league table is extremely tight right now, and no team will give up easily."

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"So erase any thoughts that they'll surrender just because we're leading. It won't be that simple."

José turned to the tactics board and began drawing.

"Mostovoi and Karpin are their midfield core. Karpin is a dangerous dribbler, while Mostovoi excels at orchestrating play. Kakha, your job is to shut Karpin down. Don't let him run free."

Seeing Kaladze nod in acknowledgment, José continued, turning to Thiago Motta. "Tiago, pressure Mostovoi. You have the physical edge—reduce his time on the ball and cut off their supply line."

Then, addressing Rufete and Ronaldinho, he added, "Don't ignore Luccin. He may play as a defensive midfielder now, but he was originally an attacking playmaker. He's capable of dangerous passes."

After finalizing the defensive setup, José moved on to attacking strategy.

"For the second half, we'll focus on counterattacks. Albert, drop a little deeper to support the midfield and create space for Samuel. We're already two goals ahead—there's no need to push recklessly. Remember, we have Villarreal and Barcelona coming up in the next six days. We don't need to exhaust ourselves, but we also can't let the win slip away."

Luke frowned slightly. He had scored in 11 consecutive matches and was eager to extend his streak, but he respected José too much to argue. In the end, he simply nodded.

José noticed Luke's reaction. He knew the striker wanted to score more goals to solidify his position in the team. However, with Celta's expected second-half aggression, Mallorca couldn't afford to risk an open game just for Luke's personal record.

"Individual achievements must serve the team—not the other way around."

Moreover, Spain coach Camacho wasn't looking for a pure goal scorer—Raúl, Morientes, and Tristán were already excellent finishers. What Spain needed was a forward who could create opportunities for others, and Luke was perfect for that role. If he became obsessed with scoring and neglected his playmaking ability, he might lose his national team prospects.

José was acting in Luke's best interest, but whether Luke would understand was another matter. Perhaps he needed to have a proper conversation with him.

José had no illusions about keeping all his star players at Mallorca—it simply wasn't realistic. The club couldn't afford to maintain a squad full of top-tier talent. His plan was clear: develop stars, sell them for hefty profits, and reinvest the money.

Part of the revenue would go toward recruiting young, undiscovered talents. The rest would be used to improve Mallorca's infrastructure—most importantly, upgrading the stadium, which required significant funding.

Luckily, European football was in a golden era of reckless spending. Lazio and Leeds hadn't gone bankrupt yet, and the Champions League's financial allure kept clubs desperate to buy talent. If Mallorca performed well and their players shined, José had no doubt that deep-pocketed clubs would come knocking with blank checks.

And even if the market eventually stabilized, there would always be a few clubs willing to throw money around. From Abramovich's Chelsea to the Middle Eastern-backed Manchester City, and later Málaga and PSG—there was never a shortage of big spenders.

José wasn't aiming to be just another Porto or Sevilla. He wanted Mallorca to become the biggest "black market" in European football. The ultimate talent dealer.

That was his plan.

After ensuring there were no flaws in his tactical adjustments, José clapped his hands again. "Alright, let's go. Finish them off in the second half. Let everyone know—we are the executioners of the third place! Any team that threatens our spot—we take them down!"

The players roared in agreement. Long-term goals were important, but mid-season motivation came from smaller, more immediate targets. Even something as silly as "taking down whoever is in third place" was enough to fuel their fire.

As the squad stormed out of the dressing room, José called Luke back. It was time for a talk.

Luke didn't say a word. He already knew what this was about.

José sighed. "Albert, remember what I told you in the reserves? You and Tristán are different types of strikers. He's a pure finisher, but you have superior technical ability and link-up play. Every type of forward has their value. That's what coaches look for."

José glanced at the clock—kickoff was approaching. He patted Luke on the shoulder.

"Think about it. No one wins games alone. I told you that on the very first day we met."

With that, José turned and walked out. After a brief silence, Luke followed him.