I Am Jose-Chapter 187 - : The Goalkeeper

The difference in mindset between players and coaches often lies here: players think from an individual perspective, while coaches must consider the entire team. Players often believe the world revolves around them, but coaches see things differently. Sometimes, the conflict between players and coaches arises precisely from this difference in thinking.

José understood Camacho's perspective and also knew what the Spanish national team needed at the moment. Clearly, Catania did not understand this, and as for Luke—he hadn't quite grasped it before, but now, he was starting to.

However, understanding it didn't mean Luke would accept it willingly.

For over a season, his performance had been excellent. Even in the national team, Luke didn't see himself as just a supporting striker. He had always been ambitious—he didn't just want to play a secondary role; he wanted to be the main character. And he had confidence that he could achieve that.

In the national team, he knew it would be difficult to shake Raúl's position. However, competing with Tristán and Morientes for a starting spot was not out of the question!

This thought made Luke restless. His goal tally in the league was higher than Morientes' and only slightly behind Tristán's. So why couldn't he secure a starting spot in the national team? If it came down to scoring ability, he was just as good as them!

Was it simply because he played for Mallorca, while Tristán and Morientes were at clubs like Real Madrid and Deportivo, the league champions of the past two seasons?

The more Luke thought about it, the more dissatisfied he felt. But he was smart enough to know that his future depended on his performances. So on the pitch, he didn't show any frustration—he continued dropping deep and linking up play, helping the team's attack.

Luke's performance did not go unnoticed. Camacho, watching from the stands, nodded in approval. Luke had already impressed him before, and now he was showcasing abilities beyond just scoring goals. What really tempted Camacho was that Luke could also play as a left winger—Spain currently lacked strong options for that position. Apart from Deportivo's Sergio, there weren't many standout players in La Liga. If Luke could perform well there, taking him to the national team would be an obvious choice.

As Camacho contemplated this, Celta Vigo's attack grew increasingly aggressive. With Catania frequently switching positions with the other two forwards, Mallorca's defense began to struggle. Though Motta kept pressing Mostovoi, Celta's three midfielders had excellent passing ability. Their quick ball movement and continuous positional rotations created chaos for Mallorca's backline.

"They're putting up quite a fight," José mused, stroking his chin. However, he wasn't too worried. Such relentless attacking couldn't be sustained for long. Moreover, with Luke tracking back to help reinforce the midfield, Mallorca's advantage remained intact as long as they could withstand this period of pressure.

On the right flank, Karpin received a pass from Luccin. Despite Kaladze marking him tightly, he managed to break through along the byline. He then squared the ball to Jesuli, who forced a cross despite Capdevila's close marking. Catania positioned himself in the box, ready to contest the aerial duel, but Franco reacted swiftly—leaping into the air and catching the ball with both hands!

Catania and Van Buyten had both committed to the jump and couldn't stop in time, colliding with Franco mid-air.

Despite securing the ball, Franco instinctively curled his body to brace for impact. But with three players crashing down from the air, and Franco at the bottom of the pile, the outcome was inevitable...

Franco hit the ground first, followed by Catania, and then Van Buyten...

Unfortunately, as Van Buyten landed, his knee accidentally struck Franco's head.

Franco's vision went black. When he regained awareness, he saw the medical staff rushing onto the pitch.

"Leo, how are you?" the team doctor shouted, with Van Buyten standing beside him, looking both concerned and guilty.

Franco shook his head, his mind still buzzing. His dazed expression worried the medical staff.

"Damn... it could be a concussion," the doctor muttered, then immediately signaled for a substitution. A dazed look after a head injury could indicate a concussion, and in such cases, continuing the match was out of the question. Franco needed to be taken to the hospital for further evaluation.

Seeing the substitution signal, José sighed and turned to the bench. "Carlos, go warm up."

Carlos Roa sprang up from the bench, stretching and jogging along the sideline.

It had been a long time since he last played in an official match. He had only appeared in a few reserve games, but those lacked the intensity of La Liga. Now, after two years, he was returning to the Spanish top flight. Roa could feel his heart pounding.

"Come on, this is ridiculous. I played in a World Cup—what's there to be nervous about?" he muttered to himself, taking deep breaths and continuing his warm-up.

Meanwhile, Franco was being carried off on a stretcher. He needed hospital scans to assess the severity of his injury. If it was a serious concussion, he might be out for months—devastating news for both Mallorca and himself.

José approached Franco and offered a few comforting words. Now slightly more conscious, Franco managed to say, "Tell Daniel... it wasn't his fault. I don't blame him."

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José nodded. "Don't worry, we all know it was just an accident."

Then, as Franco was loaded into the ambulance, José turned to Roa and patted his shoulder. "You're up, Carlos. And let Daniel know it was just an accident."

Roa nodded, tightened his gloves, and stepped onto the pitch.

Celta's medical team had also been busy—Catania had taken quite a hit, sandwiched between two Mallorca players. He had struggled to catch his breath for a moment and needed some assistance from the physios.

"Franco has been taken to the hospital... that collision must've been serious. Mallorca is bringing on their backup goalkeeper, Carlos Roa! He was their starting keeper two seasons ago before retiring for two years. Now he's back at Mallorca. Once, he was the number one for both Mallorca and Argentina. But after two years away, he's only a backup. With Franco injured, can he reclaim the starting spot?" The commentator's voice was full of excitement—this was another fascinating storyline in the game.

Roa, stepping onto the field, was still feeling a bit nervous. After all, it had been over two years since his last La Liga appearance. But he remembered José's words and, before heading into the box, patted Van Buyten on the shoulder.

"Daniel, it was just an accident. Leo said so himself before leaving. Don't blame yourself—just focus on defending."

Van Buyten nodded, shaking off his guilt.

The match resumed. Perhaps still unsettled, Van Buyten was slow to react, allowing Gustavo López to break past him.

Nadal stepped up to cover, but López quickly passed to Jesuli at the edge of the box. Jesuli took a quick glance at goal and fired a long-range shot!

Experienced players knew that when a substitute goalkeeper was rushed onto the pitch, they often struggled to react in time. This was a test.

Roa dived, but the years away from the game had dulled his instincts. He reacted a fraction too late.

As the ball flew past him, Roa's heart skipped a beat. The crowd gasped. Luckily, the shot scraped past the far post and went out. Mallorca had dodged a bullet.

Jesuli, however, wasn't disappointed—he saw a potential weakness. If Roa was slow to react, they might not even need to enter the box. Well-placed long shots could be enough!

"Two years away, and he's rusty. Mallorca is relying on this old guy as their backup?" Jesuli scoffed internally.

Frustrated with his mistake, Roa slapped the ground. He had misjudged the shot—how could he let the younger players look down on him like this?

Nadal gestured for him to stay calm. Roa took a deep breath, steadying himself.

Moments later, Celta attacked again. Catania and López combined outside the box, and Catania unleashed another powerful shot!

This time, Roa was ready. He had already read the shot's trajectory and leaped into action.

As the ball flew toward the goal, Roa soared gracefully through the air—just like in the 1998 World Cup when he saved England's penalties.

With perfect timing, he intercepted the shot, securing the ball tightly in his grasp.

The crowd erupted in cheers!

Roa stood up, clenched his fist, and let out a triumphant roar.

The old Roa was back!