I Am Jose-Chapter 8 - : A Show of Authority

When José was the last to step out from the players' tunnel, most of the Mallorca players had already lined up on the pitch, ready to begin the match.

Upon seeing their new head coach appear, most of the Mallorca fans did not cheer but simply stared as José walked onto the field. Only a few scattered claps could be heard, and they quickly faded.

"Mr. Alemany, it seems your son isn't very popular," Teresa said with a smile.

Alemany shrugged his shoulders. "Well, he's a newcomer, that's always how it goes... Mrs. Teresa, I imagine you've gone through something like this too, right? But now, you are the most popular president among the Rayo Vallecano fans."

"You're right. Only results can earn respect," Teresa replied with a smile.

Alemany smiled back, then turned his attention to José—his son, he had to succeed. In football, a coach's worth is measured by results, that's the only thing that proves everything—huh? What's he doing? Where's he going?

To Alemany's disbelief, instead of heading straight back to his position, José walked directly to the away team's bench. The Spanish national TV commentators broadcasting the match couldn't help but shout, "Oh, what's that young coach doing? Doesn't he know where his place is?"

A guest sitting next to them chuckled and said, "Hey, this is forgivable. It's his first official match, and running to the wrong place can be forgiven..."

Amid their laughter, José walked confidently up to the Rayo Vallecano coach, Vázquez, and extended his hand. "Mr. Vázquez, hello, nice to meet you. I'm José Alemany."

"Nice to meet you..." Vázquez, not one to hold back, shook José's hand with a sarcastic tone. "Young Mr. Alemany, truly impressive. With such a prestigious family background, you're coaching a top-tier team at such a young age, it's a miracle in world football!"

A few of Vázquez's assistant coaches and substitute players began to snicker, fully understanding what Vázquez meant—basically, José was only coaching because his father was the president. That's José's weak spot...

"Yes, it will be a miracle," José replied with an unwavering expression, then smiled. "Mr. Vázquez, and your Rayo Vallecano club will be fortunate to witness the origin of a miracle, the birth of a legend. Being part of it will be your greatest luck."

With that, José released Vázquez's hand and added, "I only came over to tell you this."

Then he turned and walked back to his position, leaving the Rayo Vallecano players and staff in stunned silence.

"This young kid, really full of arrogance!" one of the assistant coaches muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, completely lacking manners!"

"Relying on his dad being the president, no sense of respect... What an uncivilized guy!"

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His words struck a chord with others, and they began to criticize José, while Vázquez bit his lip, glaring at José's back. In the past six months, he had led a newly promoted team, causing a storm in La Liga, with even the giants like Real Madrid and Barcelona forced to take him seriously. Vázquez himself had received a lot of praise, almost as much as last year's Cooper—no, actually, more than Cooper's praise, because compared to Cooper's defensive style of barely winning 1-0, Rayo Vallecano played more entertaining football, with plenty of goals.

Right now, Vázquez was riding high, yet here came a 26-year-old young coach openly challenging him. How could he not feel annoyed?

However, Vázquez wasn't thinking about how to retaliate against José. After all, if he won the match, José's provocation would just be self-inflicted humiliation. He could use the post-match press conference to properly humiliate this young coach.

But Vázquez didn't consider one thing—what if he lost?

"José, what did you say to their coach?" Natal asked curiously as he gave up his position for José to sit.

"Nothing, just went over to say hello," José replied with a slight smile and sat down in his place. "I hope our players will also give them a nice greeting on the pitch."

On the field, Tristan was moving his body, but his eyes were fixed on the opponent's goal. "I'm going to smash that door open! The boss knows me well; I just need to score, no need for any extra stuff. If the wings cross the ball, I'll just smash it in..."

Ibagasa, also warming up, had been playing attacking midfield in the first half of the season. But this new coach had moved him to right winger. Well, it's not bad, at least I have more space, and it should be more troublesome for the defense...

With each player absorbed in their own thoughts, the referee blew the whistle to start the match! Sembranos controlled the ball in midfield. For Rayo Vallecano, a team that pressed hard and fast, Sembranos, a product of Barcelona's youth academy, was their brain. His midfield distribution helped guide the team in the right direction.

José had sent Francisco Soler onto the field to counter the Rayo Vallecano midfield anchor, Sembranos. With N'Gonga sitting deeper in midfield, he could focus on defensive duties, and Soler could press forward, containing Sembranos's playmaking.

When Soler rushed toward him, Sembranos froze for a moment—he had expected a double pivot formation, so no one should be interfering with his play...

But despite the momentary hesitation, Sembranos kept calm. Since Cruyff founded La Masia, many midfielders like Sembranos had emerged. While only Guardiola had truly made it at Barcelona, other teams had their own versions. Sembranos was one of them—his strength was his ability to control the game and pass the ball without wasting time on dribbles.

As Soler closed in, Sembranos quickly turned to shield the ball, passing it to the right. But there was someone faster. Stankovic had already started moving toward the right side of Sembranos, unnoticed by him. Just as Sembranos attempted to pass, Stankovic intercepted the ball!

"Pressing Sembranos from the start, forcing him to pass right. Stankovic intercepted it perfectly!"

This had been José's pre-match plan. While Soler pressured Sembranos, Stankovic moved into position, intercepting the pass cleanly!

Stankovic quickly passed the ball to Ibagasa, who had moved to the right side.

Ibagasa had been signed as an attacking midfielder, and while his performance had been excellent last season, with 26 appearances, 5 goals, and over 10 assists, this season, he had struggled, only registering two assists and no goals in 19 appearances. His height and physicality were issues, but José valued his excellent ball control and passing ability, as well as his speed—he could be just as effective on the wing, avoiding tight defense.

Upon receiving the ball, Ibagasa sprinted down the right wing, his 100-meter sprint time just over 11 seconds, while his excellent ball control allowed him to keep possession even at full speed!

Rayo Vallecano's left-back, Lawrence, retreated cautiously. He dared not make a tackle because if Ibagasa evaded him, he could easily deliver a cross into the box—especially with the height and power of Tristan, Rayo's defense had to be wary.

But Ibagasa didn't take it to the byline. He feinted to go down the line, then cut the ball back and quickly crossed it into the box.

Tristan leaped high to meet the cross, and in front of him, two Rayo Vallecano defenders seemed insignificant.

"Ibagasa crosses—Diego Tristan heads it!"

The commentator's voice rang out as the Mallorca fans jumped to their feet, hoping for a goal!

José didn't stand up. He simply stretched his neck, watching the penalty area intensely. The opening play had been his design, but whether it resulted in a goal was out of his control.

Tristan reached the highest point, feeling the panic of the two defenders beneath him. A strange sense of satisfaction filled him. As the ball descended, he powerfully headed it toward the goa