Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The moment referee Mendes blew the final whistle, José Mourinho sat in disbelief on the visitors' bench. Staring at the scoreboard, he wondered if he was dreaming.

4–1.

As per tradition, the home team's score comes first, followed by the visitors'.

Atlético Madrid, struggling in the relegation zone, had just defeated second-placed Barcelona at the Calderón. If anyone had suggested this outcome before the match, who would have believed it?

Yet, the Colchoneros had done it.

As the crisp whistle sounded, the entire Calderón erupted in celebration. Atlético fans reveled in this long-awaited, emphatic victory.

When was the last time Atlético won so decisively?

No one seemed to remember.

Likewise, Mourinho couldn't recall the last time Barça suffered such a heavy defeat.

Van Gaal sat motionless, his face stony as ever. Despite his relatively young age and the absence of deep wrinkles, his austere demeanor always gave an impression of being unapproachable.

But Mourinho, who knew him well, understood that Van Gaal was a good man at heart.

Right now, though, he carried the weight of enormous pressure—especially after a match like this.

"Don't worry, we still have the second leg," Mourinho said, attempting to find humor in the situation.

Van Gaal took a long time to respond. When he finally did, it was with a bitter shake of his head. "There's no second leg."

"What do you mean?"

"There's no second leg to speak of."

Mourinho wanted to argue, to say it was too soon to give up.

"You can't abandon hope so early. Haven't we always said that miracles happen in football? Maybe if we prepare well, we can make a comeback at the Camp Nou…"

"If we'd scored even one goal in the last thirty minutes, everything you're saying would make sense. But we couldn't," Van Gaal interrupted.

He felt that Mourinho's perspective lacked the weight of responsibility. As an assistant coach, Mourinho wasn't burdened by the same pressure; naturally, his mindset was different.

Perhaps when Mourinho became a head coach one day, he would think differently.

"José, football may be full of miracles, but some miracles simply won't happen. Do you believe a team can come back from three goals down in a Champions League final? Or that a player can score 60 or 70 goals in a single season?"

Mourinho was at a loss for words.

Van Gaal's examples were, indeed, impossibilities.

Those were feats beyond human capability.

But Barça staging a comeback at home against Atlético? That wasn't so far-fetched. This wasn't a Champions League final—it was a Copa del Rey semifinal.

Still, he couldn't refute Van Gaal's point. As head coach, Van Gaal's despair stemmed from the fact that his team's morale had been shattered.

This was what truly crushed him.

By the end of the match, many Barça players had clearly lost their fighting spirit. Instead of seeking ways to create chances, they were simply waiting for the match to end.

There were still the league and the Champions League ahead...

Perhaps being eliminated from the Copa del Rey wasn't such a bad thing for Barça.

But to be knocked out by such a scoreline, in this manner, was humiliating.

"Remember that kid, José," Van Gaal said, pointing toward the Atlético bench where Yang Hao was standing. "He's no ordinary coach."

The moment the final whistle blew, Yang Hao was overcome with emotion on the sidelines.

Several players on the bench had been itching to celebrate, and as soon as the match ended, they charged onto the pitch to join their teammates in jubilant celebration.

For Atlético, this victory was like rain after a long drought.

The team had endured months of frustration, and this win provided a much-needed release, significantly easing the immense pressure they had been under.

Of course, the fight for survival in the league remained daunting—there was no room for complacency.

The 48,000 fans at the Calderón responded with rapturous applause and cheers, showing their appreciation for the team's performance.

Prompted by Mendiódo, Yang Hao made his way to the visitors' bench to shake hands with Van Gaal.

It was clear the Dutchman was in no mood for conversation, offering nothing beyond a cursory handshake.

Yang Hao then extended his hand to Mourinho, who seemed far less affected by the loss.

This wasn't surprising—after all, it was Van Gaal who bore the brunt of responsibility for the defeat, not Mourinho.

On his way back, Yang Hao embraced each of his players as they left the pitch, congratulating them on their performance.

Aguilera, meanwhile, led the team on a lap around the field to thank the fans for their support—a customary gesture after such a match.

The fans had created a formidable home atmosphere, inspiring the players to give their all on the pitch.

"You played brilliantly tonight," came a voice from behind Yang Hao as he watched his players celebrate.

Startled, Yang Hao turned to see a sweaty Pep Guardiola standing behind him. The unexpected encounter caught him off guard, and before he could think, he blurted out, "Bald Pep!"

Fortunately, he said it in Chinese.

Guardiola looked confused, not understanding what Yang Hao had said.

"Apologies, my Spanish isn't great. I meant to say, Pep," Yang Hao quickly corrected himself with a sheepish smile.

...

He's not even bald yet—calling him Bald Pep might just get you punched.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," said Pep Guardiola, extending his hand with a curious expression as he studied Yang Hao.

It was clear that Guardiola's interest in football tactics and ideas hadn't just emerged when he decided to become a coach; it had been part of his entire playing career.

This time, he was particularly intrigued by Atlético's cohesiveness as a team.

"Your team played very compactly from front to back. That's not something you see in many teams nowadays. And your half-space attacks—those were excellent. We couldn't contain them until Cocu came on. I certainly couldn't stop them on my own," Guardiola admitted with refreshing honesty.

To anyone who had watched the match, this was evident.

Since there was still a second leg to play, Yang Hao refrained from revealing too much to Guardiola. They kept their conversation casual, chatting on the sidelines. However, something Guardiola said piqued Yang Hao's interest.

"I have a friend whose ideas remind me of yours. He's a big proponent of the 4-2-3-1. In fact, Fútbol Entrenamiento—the Spanish coaching magazine—once said he was one of the earliest advocates of this formation in Spain, perhaps even Europe."

Hearing this, a name immediately popped into Yang Hao's mind.

"Are you talking about Juan Manuel Lillo?"

"That's right! Do you know Juanma?"

"No, but I've heard of him," Yang Hao replied with a smile.

In his past life, Yang Hao had done extensive research on Guardiola's biography while writing a novel. He had read countless materials, learning about the close relationship between Guardiola and Juanma Lillo. In fact, Guardiola had even gone to Mexico to play for six months in Lillo's team before retiring, just to immerse himself in Lillo's tactical system and learn his unique training methods.

Their connection dated back to 1996, when Lillo was managing newly promoted Salamanca. His impressive work earned him a job at Real Oviedo, where he faced Barça in his first match—suffering a 4-2 defeat.

Despite the loss, Oviedo's courageous counter-attacking play and the threat they posed to Barça left a strong impression on Guardiola. After the match, Guardiola sought out Lillo to meet him in person.

Years later, after Guardiola's monumental success, it became widely acknowledged that three coaches had the greatest tactical influence on him: Marcelo Bielsa, Juanma Lillo, and, of course, Johan Cruyff. Some even argued that Lillo had a greater influence than Bielsa.

Interestingly, however, Lillo's managerial career was rather unremarkable.

"He's a man full of ideas," Guardiola praised. "But whether it was Salamanca, Real Oviedo, or Tenerife, his results were always divisive."

While managing Real Oviedo, Lillo's team was relegated from La Liga. Later, when he took over Tenerife as an emergency appointment, he helped them avoid relegation in his first season, only for the team to collapse the following season.

In short, Lillo had the ability and knowledge of a top coach, but as a manager, those alone weren't enough.

"If I had to grade him, I'd say he's a perfect 10 on football knowledge. He started coaching at 16, and now at 34, he already has nearly two decades of experience," Guardiola said. "But as a head coach, he still has a lot to learn."

Yang Hao understood Guardiola's point.

The environments faced by a head coach and an assistant coach were entirely different.

The pressure on an assistant coach couldn't compare to that on a head coach. The specific responsibilities also varied depending on the team's structure.

For example, at Manchester United, Sir Alex Ferguson often delegated much of the tactical planning and preparation to Carlos Queiroz. Similarly, Jürgen Klinsmann and Joachim Löw worked in a similar manner.

Van Gaal and Mourinho, on the other hand, had a different dynamic. Mourinho acted more as a communication bridge between the head coach and players, while the detailed work was handled by Van Gaal and his team.

"Pep, let's exchange numbers. Later, you can share Juanma Lillo's contact with me," Yang Hao said on a whim.

What he really wanted, of course, was Guardiola's personal contact.

"Sure," Guardiola replied, casually reciting his private phone number.

After leaving Tenerife mid-season due to poor results, Lillo had been unemployed for nearly two years. His early struggles during that season meant he didn't last until the winter break, which further damaged his reputation.

As many had said, being a professional head coach requires both experience and credibility.

After saying goodbye to Guardiola, Yang Hao couldn't help but smile to himself.

Juanma Lillo might have been an average head coach, but as an assistant, he was a true talent.

Yang Hao vividly remembered that in 2019, Lillo coached in China's second division before leaving in 2020 due to personal reasons to become Guardiola's assistant at Manchester City. Over the next two seasons, City won trophies in abundance.

Later, Lillo went to the Middle East to coach, but before City's crucial Champions League match against Real Madrid, they called him back as a temporary consultant. City made the final and went on to win the championship.

While City's success couldn't solely be attributed to Lillo, his contributions were undeniable.

"I'll ask him later if he's interested in coming to Atlético," Yang Hao thought to himself.

But for now, he had a more pressing issue to deal with.

The match had ended.

The celebration of the victory had also come to a close.

After the initial excitement, the players had showered and were now seated in the dressing room, waiting.

The head coach had skipped the post-match press conference, sending Mendiódo in his place.

Sure, the football federation required representation from both teams, but there was no rule that said the head coach couldn't opt out.

Atlético's players understood one thing clearly: their coach had no intention of playing nice with the media.

None of them cared much about that—it wasn't their problem.

What mattered to them more than anything else was their money.

According to the promises made earlier by Yang Hao, on behalf of the club, and personally confirmed by Miguel Gil, the players were to receive their overdue salaries, bonuses, and appearance fees after the game.

As for other long-overdue payments, those would require more time—at least until the club sorted out its financial accounts.

Of course, the players weren't naive. They understood that "more time" was just a polite way of saying "we don't have the money yet."

But tonight's payments—did the club even have the cash to make them?

"Where's the boss?"

The silence in the dressing room was broken by an unknown voice.

Only then did the players realize they hadn't seen Yang Hao since the match had ended.

"No idea. Haven't seen him since the final whistle."

"Didn't see him anywhere on the way back from the pitch either."

"Was he in the stands?"

"Doesn't look like it."

"Then where did he go?"

The players started speculating among themselves, their curiosity growing.

"Could he have run off?" someone joked.

The room erupted in laughter, but as the chuckles faded, unease began to set in.

Running away seemed unlikely, but hiding from them? Not entirely out of the question.

Could it be that Atlético didn't actually have the funds to pay them tonight?

At that moment, the team's physiotherapist, Parales, walked in.

Everyone knew that Parales had been shadowing Yang Hao like a loyal puppy these past few days. Naturally, the players bombarded him with questions.

"When you guys went onto the pitch, I saw him heading toward the office. My guess is he's trying to sort things out with the two Gils," Parales said.

Seeing the concern on the players' faces, he quickly added, "He's been focused on this issue all evening. I think he's handling it personally."

Hearing this, the players nodded in understanding.

If that were true, then regardless of whether the money materialized, at least the coach was giving it his all.

Deep down, they all knew that, payment or no payment, they'd still have to finish the season.

But how they'd play, and what kind of results they'd achieve, was another matter entirely.

"Let's wait a bit longer. I trust the coach, and I trust Miguel Gil," Aguilera said.

With captain Toni Muñoz absent, Aguilera had taken charge of calming the team.

Despite his reassuring words, the worry etched on his face was evident.

Tonight's stunning victory was unexpected and ultimately not that significant.

The real battle for Atlético was in the league.

If the club failed to keep its promise tonight, the fragile morale and unity they'd managed to build could shatter once again. And then, how would they face their weekend opponent?

Such crises had already occurred repeatedly this season.

At that moment, a club staff member entered the dressing room and conveyed the coach's message: all players were to remain in the dressing room and not leave.

"What's going on?"

"Yeah, what's happening?"

"What does this mean?"

Already on edge, the players became even more agitated.

Aguilera stood up, motioning for his teammates to calm down, then approached the staff member.

"What's happening?" he asked.

The staff member hesitated, glancing at the players before finally answering.

"There's an argument in the office."

"Who's arguing?"

"The head coach and the chairman."

The players were stunned.

Jesus Gil, a man known for his domineering presence at Atlético, was rarely challenged. Who would dare argue with him?

"What are they arguing about?" Valerón, notably calm, got straight to the point.

"The club wants to pay bonuses now but delay the salaries. The coach insists that everything be paid in full, or he'll resign on the spot."

The room fell silent as the players exchanged looks of shock.

None of them had expected their mild-mannered young coach to go head-to-head with Jesus Gil so fiercely.

"And what about Miguel Gil?"

"He's supporting the coach. He even offered to pay out of his own pocket."

Though they weren't in the office, the players could practically feel the tension.

"To be honest, your new coach is really putting himself on the line," the staff member said with a wry smile.

Everyone in the room knew what kind of man Jesus Gil was. The last person who dared to openly defy him ended up getting beaten so badly at the Spanish FA offices that they couldn't get back up.

"And what's the situation now?" Aguilera pressed.

"I don't know. The coach just asked me to tell everyone to stay put and wait for their money."

"And if there isn't any money?" someone muttered from the back of the room.

"They said he refuses to leave tonight until he sees the money transferred with his own eyes."

The players, upon hearing this, were deeply moved.

As head coach, Yang Hao wasn't obligated to handle these matters. But because of his promise and his genuine care for the players, he took on this thankless task, even at the risk of offending the club's higher-ups.

This was something neither Ranieri nor Antic had been willing to do.

For those coaches, Atlético was just another job. If they weren't working here, they could easily find work elsewhere. Why stir up trouble?

But that mindset only served to push players away.

If you're not willing to stand up for your players during critical moments, don't expect unconditional support from them when you need it.

That's fairness.

And the reverse is equally true.

This was exactly what Yang Hao aimed to achieve—keeping the team he'd painstakingly built united and focused.

When Yang Hao personally witnessed the finance team transferring the money into the players' accounts, he finally exhaled in relief.

He'd feared that Jesus Gil might break his word and ruin the positive momentum the team had just built.

Never think it impossible.

To the Gil family, Atlético was a bottomless pit, with no clear end in sight. Their preferred solution was to make the club self-sufficient before dealing with the financial mess.

Pouring endless funds into it? When would it ever end?

Moreover, this money was coming directly from the Gils' personal wealth. Jesus Gil's personality made such generosity a rarity.

Credit had to be given to Miguel Gil, who had firmly backed Yang Hao during this confrontation.

But now that it was settled, Yang Hao had time to reflect—and he suspected he'd been played by Jesus Gil.

This was just a hunch, but it seemed likely.

Miguel Gil had been ready to release the funds all along, but Jesus Gil had delayed the process, waiting for Yang Hao to approach him and escalate the issue. Only then, after Miguel's intervention, had Jesus "reluctantly" agreed to the payment.

From start to finish, Jesus never explained his reasoning, which made Yang Hao suspect it was a calculated move to put him in his place.

Miguel's growing closeness to Yang Hao likely didn't sit well with Jesus. After all, Jesus was the boss, and so was his son. Since when does the boss listen to the employee?

That was just how Jesus Gil operated.

For years, Atlético had been run as a dictatorship, with every decision—whether concerning coaches or players—ultimately made by him.

Yang Hao, however, didn't dwell on it.

He had no interest in the owner's internal politics. His focus remained on leading Atlético to safety this season.

If he succeeded, Jesus Gil might step back, leaving Miguel to take a more prominent role. Enrique Cerezo would likely assume the presidency while Miguel stayed on as general manager to maintain stability within the club.

The majority of shares would remain with the Gil family, so there was little risk of external upheaval.

Yang Hao's past-life knowledge affirmed that such a management system worked well. Atlético gradually rose from its struggles to become a powerhouse in La Liga and Europe.

They eventually granted full autonomy to Simeone, under whose leadership the club flourished.

Speaking of Simeone, Yang Hao found the idea of bringing back the double-champion legend quite appealing.

But for now, Simeone was still playing for Lazio, helping them secure the Serie A title this season. Lazio, with its deep pockets, was out of Atlético's financial reach.

If only he could pair Simeone with Baraja—they'd form a top-tier double-pivot midfield.

Another Argentine talent, Mascherano, was still just 15 years old—a prospect for the distant future.

Real Madrid's Cambiasso, however, was someone worth keeping an eye on. The bald maestro was a promising talent, but persuading Madrid to let him join their fiercest rival? That would be a tall order.

As time went on, quality defensive midfielders would become increasingly valuable, and Atlético lacked the resources to compete for elite players.

For now, Yang Hao didn't need to concern himself with these matters.

His coaching position was far from secure.

His top priority was to lead Atlético to safety in La Liga—that was the only thing that mattered.

When Yang Hao returned to the dressing room, he announced the good news: the club had successfully disbursed the salaries, appearance fees, and bonuses as promised.

The room erupted with cheers as Atlético's players celebrated wildly.

What surprised Yang Hao, however, was that the players surrounded him, many expressing their heartfelt thanks.

He was taken aback.

Finally, Aguilera explained the whole story, and Yang Hao understood why.

It seemed what he thought was a potential trap by Jesus Gil had turned into a moment that strengthened his bond with the players.

"Alright, calm down, everyone," Yang Hao said, his voice cutting through the noise.

The room fell silent, with all eyes on him, their trust in their coach shining in their expressions.

"The club has honored its commitment, and I'm confident it will continue to do so. Now, I hope all of you can stay focused and give your all in every match ahead."

"With your skill and the competitiveness of this team, I firmly believe we will avoid relegation!"

Yang Hao's rallying cry resonated deeply.

The players nodded and voiced their agreement.

For the first time, they were united in their goal.

Atlético 4–1 Barça!

The news of this result spread like wildfire across Spain, quickly reaching the broader European football community and even the world. Everyone was shocked by the outcome of the match.

The Copa del Rey, even at the semifinal stage, rarely draws global attention.

But Barça's 4–1 defeat? That was headline news on a global scale.

To make matters worse, they lost to a team on the verge of relegation, adding an almost surreal layer to the story.

Van Gaal's squad was filled with stars, and the ongoing friction between him and players like Rivaldo had already placed Barcelona under intense media scrutiny.

At such a critical juncture, Barça's shocking 4–1 loss to Atlético—Copa del Rey or not—was a monumental upset. Van Gaal's post-match criticism of his players only added fuel to the fire. He accused many of not giving their all.

Catalonia's Sport newspaper reported on Van Gaal's comments during the post-match press conference.

"At the start, Atlético played somewhat disorganized and tentative," Van Gaal observed. "But they quickly found their rhythm. They played with conviction, executed their tactics effectively, and, most importantly, their defense showed significant improvement compared to previous matches."

Van Gaal specifically highlighted Atlético's new coach, crediting him for the team's transformation.

Although he had remained aloof and distant toward Yang Hao during the match, Van Gaal was generous with his praise at the press conference.

"Today, he proved himself," Van Gaal said.

As for his own team, Van Gaal admitted Barça played more attractive football and dominated possession but ultimately failed where it mattered most.

"I keep telling my players: playing beautifully and controlling the game is not enough. We must score goals. Goals win games," he said.

"Unfortunately, tonight, we couldn't do that."

Van Gaal added that several Barça players underperformed, with some failing spectacularly.

"I don't know why this happened, but I believe many of our players need to reflect seriously on their performances."

Sport interpreted these comments as Van Gaal's dissatisfaction with his star players, accusing them of prioritizing attack over defense—while failing to produce any meaningful offensive threat.

In addition to reporting on Van Gaal's statements, Sport also questioned his lineup and tactical decisions, particularly the center-back pairing of Cocu and De Boer.

Guardiola's performance this season had already been under heavy scrutiny, and this match was no exception.

Against Valerón, especially during his frequent link-ups with Atlético's wingers, Guardiola struggled to cope. These connections were key to Atlético's first two goals.

All four of Atlético's goals were orchestrated by Valerón, highlighting Guardiola's defensive issues.

However, when Cocu moved from center-back to defensive midfield to pair with Guardiola, the midfield stabilized.

The success of the double-pivot approach seemed undeniable.

At Real Madrid, similar criticism was being directed at Redondo's lone defensive midfield role, with Del Bosque increasingly pairing him with Karembeu in a 4-4-2 setup.

Atlético's victory over Barça had also come via a 4-2-3-1 formation.

"More and more professional coaches are recognizing the limitations of the single defensive midfielder," Sport noted.

The paper criticized Van Gaal's stubborn insistence on the 4-3-3 and questioned his personnel choices, especially deploying Cocu as a center-back.

"That was an unmitigated disaster!" Sport declared.

Barça had other defensive options. Abelardo, who had been in excellent form recently, had consistently partnered with De Boer. But Van Gaal had replaced him after blaming Abelardo for their 3–0 loss to Mallorca.

"So, he chose Cocu. But in Madrid, Barça conceded four goals. Who takes responsibility for this now?"

The paper didn't hold back, openly directing blame at the Dutch contingent in Barça's dressing room.

Meanwhile, both Sport and Mundo Deportivo subjected Van Gaal to scathing criticism over his lineup and tactics. However, when it came to Atlético and their new coach, Yang Hao, even the Catalan media offered high praise.

Defeating Barça 4–1 had all but secured Atlético a spot in the Copa del Rey final.

For Yang Hao, his coaching debut could not have been more spectacular. The emphatic victory brought joy to the Calderón faithful.

"It's hard to believe he's only 25 years old."

Madrid-based Marca also praised the semifinal, expressing admiration for Yang Hao's tactical decisions.

Valerón operated in the No. 10 role, protected by two dedicated defensive midfielders, allowing him to focus on orchestrating play and leading the attack.

The results spoke for themselves: Atlético's four goals were all born from Valerón's vision and passing.

In Yang Hao's 4-2-3-1 setup, Valerón delivered his best performance since joining Atlético. His playmaking, flair, and ability to create chances showcased the magic of the "Spanish Magician."

Additionally, the double-pivot pairing of Pablo García and Baraja received widespread acclaim.

Baraja, already an established player, had struggled to find consistency at Atlético. Pablo García, who had been stuck in the reserves, had finally been given his chance.

Together, they formed a formidable barrier in midfield.

"Xavi and Gabri struggled all night to break through their defensive line," Marca noted.

While Litmanen's introduction added some pressure to the duo, it still failed to create any significant threats.

"Watching this match, Ranieri and Antic must feel embarrassed. Who would've thought that Atlético's bench held a gem like Baraja, or that their reserves included a player like Pablo García?"

Marca noted that after Bejbl's injury, everyone assumed Yang Hao would face a major crisis, given Atlético's apparent lack of suitable replacements.

Yet, not only did Yang Hao solve this problem—he managed to resolve two issues at once.

Pablo García, in particular, stood out. With his height and physicality, he resembled Bejbl.

"But the Uruguayan midfielder offers something Bejbl lacks: passing and technical skill."

Bejbl was known as a defensive powerhouse, but his passing and footwork were rudimentary at best.

By contrast, while Pablo García's defensive skills were still raw and not as seasoned as Bejbl's, his passing and technical abilities shone in several key moments, showcasing his strengths.

Both Pablo García and Baraja are versatile midfielders, capable of contributing to both attack and defense, and both possess strong passing abilities.

However, their styles are quite different.

Baraja, at 1.77 meters tall, excels in covering large areas, pressing aggressively, and making late runs into the box for long-range shots.

Pablo García, at 1.86 meters, is also adept at pressing and running, but his focus lies further back, providing defensive stability.

Together, they effectively filled a critical gap in Atlético's midfield.

Of course, the defensive issues in the backline remained apparent.

For instance, center-backs Gamarra and Santi were helpless against Kluivert.

"The height and strength disparity was too significant. They couldn't challenge Kluivert at all."

Defending against powerful target forwards had long been a weakness for Atlético.

However, Marca observed that Yang Hao's defensive strategy mitigated this issue brilliantly.

By isolating Barcelona's attacking trident—Rivaldo, Kluivert, and Figo—each was forced to play individually, making it easier for Atlético to neutralize them with superior numbers.

"Kluivert won almost every aerial duel in the attacking third, but he struggled to create meaningful chances."

"Atlético pushed their defensive line higher up the pitch, keeping Kluivert far from his danger zone. Without teammates around to support him, he was left isolated."

Despite their star-studded lineup, Barcelona's attacking trio failed to produce any real threats because they were operating in isolation.

Both the media and fans lavished praise on Yang Hao for his debut as Atlético's head coach.

Defeating Barcelona 4–1 at home is no small feat.

According to El País, if this match were graded, Hasselbaink, with his hat-trick, would earn an 8.5. Valerón, orchestrating the attack, deserved the highest score at 9. Baraja and Pablo García's contributions in the double-pivot midfield earned them 8s.

As for head coach Yang Hao? He earned a 9.5.

Considering his age—just 25—his sudden appointment, Bejbl's untimely injury, and the chaotic state of the team he inherited, El País argued that giving Yang Hao a perfect 10 for this match would not be excessive.

"However, he must remain grounded," the newspaper cautioned.

"Atlético's crisis is far from over. In fact, it has barely begun."

"At the post-match press conference, assistant coach Mendiódo stated that Atlético's sole focus is survival in La Liga."

"This means their performance in the Copa del Rey is irrelevant. To stay in La Liga, Atlético must win at least four of their remaining six matches."

"Given that their opponents include teams like Barcelona and Valencia, this is a tall order."

El País reflected on the fact that while many renowned coaches had turned down the Atlético job, unwilling to touch the sinking ship, Yang Hao had seized the opportunity and stunned the football world by dismantling Barcelona 4–1 in his debut.

"He has made an unforgettable first impression," the paper noted.

"All of Spain is now watching this young coach, curious to see if he can maintain the brilliance of his debut performance."

"Before this match, most had written off Atlético's chances of avoiding relegation. But now, that certainty has been shaken."

And all of it was because of Yang Hao—because of that unforgettable 4–1 at the Calderón

Sometimes, life takes strange and unexpected turns, as Yang Hao was now discovering.

When Guardiola mentioned Juanma Lillo to Yang Hao, it sparked an immediate interest in the Spanish coach, who had been fairly well-known but unemployed for two years.

What Yang Hao hadn't anticipated, however, was that before the team left for Majadahonda after the match, Miguel Gil presented him with a list of seven candidates for the assistant coach position. Five of these candidates had attended the match at the Calderón.

To Yang Hao's surprise, Juanma Lillo was one of them.

Upon reviewing the list, Lillo was the name that stood out to Yang Hao. He called Miguel Gil to learn more about Lillo's situation.

The answer was simple: after two years without a job, Lillo needed to get back to work to support his family.

With the season nearing its end, opportunities were scarce. Atlético's assistant coach position was a short-term contract until the end of the season, but it offered a salary on par with that of a head coach in the Segunda División, along with a significant bonus if the team avoided relegation.

This setup had attracted several capable candidates, including Lillo.

When Miguel explained the situation, Yang Hao couldn't help but feel that when things are going your way, the world seems to conspire in your favor.

But he also knew these opportunities were the result of hard work and perseverance.

He asked Miguel to arrange for Lillo to visit Majadahonda the next day for a final interview.

When Miguel suggested celebrating the victory with a drink, Yang Hao politely declined.

"It's not the time for that yet, mate."

"Fair enough," Miguel replied.

"Our next opponent is extremely tough. Málaga is a giant-killer and not to be underestimated," Yang Hao explained.

He added that he needed to review match footage and analyze their next opponent.

The moment the final whistle against Barça sounded, Yang Hao had mentally moved on.

The next challenge was Málaga—a formidable team crafted by Atlético legend Joaquín Peiró.

For those unfamiliar with the 1999/00 La Liga season, especially younger fans in 2023, it may seem like a distant memory. Even those who do recall it likely remember two main things: the rise of Deportivo La Coruña and the sheer chaos of that season.

Chaos to what extent?

Every level of Spanish football—clubs, players, and management—was in disarray. It was like a curse of the century's end.

Real Madrid was a mess, struggling in the league and floundering in the Champions League. It wasn't until Vicente del Bosque implemented a conservative five-man defense that the team found stability, ultimately winning the Champions League.

The ups and downs made for a thrilling story in hindsight, but during the season, it was pure chaos.

To add to the turmoil, Real Madrid faced a presidential election that summer. Florentino Pérez was running for the second time, this time against Mendoza's protégé, Lorenzo Sanz. The campaign was as chaotic as the season itself.

If Real Madrid was in disarray, so was Barcelona. Van Gaal, the Dutch contingent, the local faction, and locker room conflicts created constant headlines.

And Atlético? Their struggles needed no further elaboration.

In the midst of this chaos, Deportivo rose to prominence, seizing the opportunity to claim their first-ever league title.

The league wasn't the only mess—individual players also faced upheaval.

The Pichichi Trophy, awarded to the league's top scorer, typically featured household names. But that season, superstars like Roy Makaay, Raúl, Diego Tristán, Kluivert, and Rivaldo were overshadowed.

Instead, the spotlight fell on Hasselbaink (Atlético), Salva (Racing Santander), and Catanha (Málaga).

These three shared a common trait: exceptional individual ability.

Though not towering in stature, they were fast, strong, agile, and incredibly skilled, with clinical finishing that thrived in La Liga. Their respective teams' tactics amplified their strengths, leading to an outburst of goals.

Take Málaga, for example.

Under Joaquín Peiró, Málaga was renowned for their defensive prowess. In the previous season, they had won the Segunda División title, narrowly beating Atlético's B team.

Yes, Atlético's reserve team had performed exceptionally well in the Segunda, almost clinching the title. But for the club as a whole, this wasn't necessarily a positive development. The reasons were complex and not easily explained.

After their promotion, Málaga made two key signings:

Rufete, who later joined Valencia, to bolster the right flank.

Uruguayan international striker Darío Silva.

Peiró also brought in Albert Luque, a left winger from Barcelona's youth system, on loan from Mallorca.

Málaga's hallmark was their solid, combative defense. Their counterattacks relied on players like Catanha, Darío Silva, and Rufete.

This approach—defense-first with deadly counterattacks—was the foundation for many mid-table teams in La Liga.

But Málaga wasn't one-dimensional. They could also press forward and play aggressively when needed.

For instance, in Round 30, Málaga hosted Barcelona and surprisingly opted for an all-out attacking approach.

Even more shocking, Málaga outplayed Barça in this attacking duel.

Although they lost 1–2 on the scoreboard, anyone who watched the match—Van Gaal included—agreed that Málaga had "won" in spirit.

In the 21st minute of the first half, Rufete scored against Barcelona, but it was ruled offside.

Van Gaal himself admitted it was a referee's error—the goal should have stood.

Málaga was a formidable opponent, but Yang Hao was prepared to face them.

Shortly after, Catanha scored again.

Throughout the match, Barcelona struggled to find solutions against Málaga. It wasn't until the 79th minute that Abelardo equalized from a corner.

But in the final moments, the referee awarded Barça a highly controversial penalty.

In the end, Barça secured a 2–1 victory, but it was a hollow win.

Even the well-known Cadena COPE radio station commented, "If the referees want Barça to win, there's nothing anyone can do."

This type of controversial match against elite teams had been a recurring theme for Málaga this season.

From Real Madrid to Deportivo La Coruña, Valencia, and now Barcelona, all had struggled against Málaga.

And now, it was Atlético's turn.

The morning after the match, when Parales arrived at Majadahonda, he was surprised to see Yang Hao stepping out of his office.

"You... didn't go home last night?"

Being close in age, with Yang Hao frequently asking for his help, the two had become quite friendly.

"I got caught up watching match footage. Before I realized it, it was too late to get a ride back," Yang Hao said with a wry smile.

The Atlético training ground was notoriously remote.

Parales chuckled, suddenly remembering that his head coach didn't even own a car.

Noticing the redness in Yang Hao's eyes, Parales asked, "Didn't have any toiletries either, did you?"

Yang Hao laughed and nodded. "Everything here is leftover from Antic."

His office, which included a bed, private bathroom, wardrobe, and shower, was essentially a small hotel suite. Staying there wasn't an issue.

"I have a brand-new set at home. Let me grab it for you," Parales offered as he turned to leave.

Before stepping out, he paused and added, "Oh, the kitchen staff won't have breakfast ready yet. What do you want to eat? I'll have them make something."

"Anything that fills me up is fine," Yang Hao replied casually.

When Parales returned, he brought clean towels, a cup, and toiletries. While Yang Hao went to freshen up, Parales tidied up the office.

"You slept on the couch last night? What time did you finally stop watching?" Parales asked from outside.

"Not sure. I dozed off while watching," Yang Hao replied.

"Is being a head coach this exhausting?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Just seems like Antic never worked this hard," Parales said.

After splashing his face with water, Yang Hao felt refreshed.

"He's a renowned coach. He doesn't have to work this hard. I'm a rookie—I don't have that luxury."

"Then I guess being a physio like me isn't so bad," Parales joked.

Yang Hao chuckled. He appreciated Parales's cheerful and optimistic personality. "It won't stay easy for long. In the next few years, there's going to be a tech explosion—things like the internet and mobile communication. Everything's going to evolve at lightning speed, and professional football will be no exception."

"What do you mean?"

"Take physiotherapy. In the future, all your data will be networked. You'll be able to control everything with just a smartphone or a tablet."

"You're kidding, right? With those tiny Nokia black-and-white screens? Get real," Parales scoffed.

Yang Hao froze for a moment, realizing the absurdity of his claim in the year 2000.

Of course, no one in 2000 could have foreseen the rapid changes that were about to unfold.

As globalization and advanced technology reshaped the world, football would inevitably be swept up in the tide of change.

Yang Hao had once discussed this with Florentino Pérez, who likely had no idea that his Galácticos strategy would trigger an era of transformation. Concepts like the "attention economy" or "fan engagement" weren't even on his radar at the time.

Pérez had acted on instinct, believing that superstars, as rare and influential commodities, were undervalued.

But history is often made by those who lack foresight.

They weren't like Yang Hao, who knew exactly what the future held.

And that knowledge was Yang Hao's greatest advantage.

For a long time, Yang Hao had lamented being an incomplete time traveler—one without the "golden finger" cheat commonly found in stories.

Had his golden finger been metaphorically severed during the journey?

But now he realized something profound.

Being sent 23 years into the past was itself the ultimate golden finger.

With this epiphany, Yang Hao felt an unexpected sense of relief. The pressure weighing on his shoulders lightened considerably.

"José, I'm expecting a special guest later. Could you arrange some coffee or tea for me?"

Yang Hao had scheduled his meeting with Juanma Lillo for that morning, just before the team's training session.

"Got it," Parales replied, then added curiously, "What's so special about this guest?"

Yang Hao grinned. "If he agrees to stay, I won't have to work this hard anymore."

Parales raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so it's the assistant coach?"

Yang Hao nodded.

With his quintessential Spanish curls, Juanma Lillo's first impression on Yang Hao was striking—he bore a strong resemblance to Mark Ruffalo, the actor who played the Hulk in The Avengers.

Both carried a scholarly aura.

Lillo's demeanor was cheerful and optimistic; he'd been smiling from the moment they met.

In Yang Hao's office, with coffee brought in by Parales, the two began their conversation, starting with Guardiola.

Lillo revealed that Guardiola had called him the previous night to discuss the meeting with Yang Hao.

"He had nothing but praise for your team's performance last night," Lillo said with a smile.

Yang Hao used this opportunity to pivot the conversation to the match itself.

Lillo shared his perspective, pointing out that Atlético's pressing in the attacking third had been lacking throughout the game.

"If your team had applied better pressure up front, Barcelona wouldn't have escaped with just four goals conceded," Lillo remarked.

Yang Hao nodded in agreement but explained that this was something he couldn't help at the moment.

For one, he couldn't expect Hasselbaink to engage in relentless pressing—it wasn't realistic.

The Dutch striker's temperament, described charitably as "free-spirited" or less charitably as "self-centered," required careful handling.

Demanding more defensive effort from him could backfire, leading to frustration or outright resistance, making Yang Hao's job even harder.

"I'm not the boss of the locker room yet," Yang Hao admitted frankly. "Sometimes, what I say doesn't carry enough weight."

Lillo understood.

Decisive, authoritarian leadership might sound appealing in football management stories, but real-life locker rooms didn't work that way.

Take Van Gaal, for example—he was nothing if not decisive.

But what had it achieved?

Not only were Rivaldo and the local players at odds with him, but even Kluivert, one of his staunchest allies, was growing discontented.

Managing a locker room required more than sheer authority; it was a matter of skillful relationship management.

"You can't 'kill off' every player," Lillo quipped. "Otherwise, who's left to play for you?"

Even if players outwardly complied, a mutiny on the pitch—whether subtle or overt—was always a possibility. Many coaches had been ousted after being undermined by their squads.

Yang Hao knew this all too well. He couldn't even demand too much defensive commitment from Valerón, for example. If he did, Valerón might immediately push back with, I can't do it!

The tactical compromise Yang Hao employed wasn't ideal, but it was necessary.

He also admitted that he lacked expertise in training players. The Atlético coaching staff was similarly under-equipped in this regard, which was why he was so keen to bring in Lillo.

Guardiola himself had raved about Lillo's innovative training methods.

Lillo was aware of these issues. During his earlier conversation with Miguel Gil, they had discussed the need for an assistant coach who could oversee training and other operational tasks, leaving Yang Hao free to focus on the big picture.

This arrangement suited Lillo perfectly.

Yang Hao candidly described Atlético's situation and the challenges he faced, while Lillo shared stories about his coaching career and the difficulties he had encountered with his previous teams.

Lillo's vision for the 4-2-3-1 formation was particularly intriguing. Unlike Irureta or Benítez, his approach emphasized quick passing combinations, high pressing, and fast-paced transitions.

From the perspective of the year 2000, these ideas seemed innovative but not revolutionary.

However, through the lens of 2023, it was clear that Lillo's concepts were far ahead of their time. Unfortunately, the teams he managed were never able to fully implement his vision.

The reasons were multifaceted. While the players' abilities and technical skills played a role, the primary limitation was fitness.

Lillo explained that whether in lower divisions, the Segunda, or even La Liga teams like Tenerife, maintaining high-intensity play was nearly impossible. Players often ran out of steam midway through matches, leaving his teams vulnerable to counterattacks.

"For instance, in that 2–4 loss to Barcelona," Lillo noted, "we dominated while our energy lasted. But once our fitness dropped, Barça tore us apart."

This pattern became so predictable that opposing teams tailored their strategies to exploit it.

"I think that's why I can't get another head coaching job. Everyone knows my weakness," Lillo admitted with a self-deprecating laugh.

Yang Hao laughed along, acknowledging the awkward reality of Lillo's predicament.

Despite this, Yang Hao was deeply impressed by Lillo's tactical philosophy. He believed that advancements in sports science and training methods would eventually allow teams to play with the intensity Lillo envisioned.

"I don't know if it's achievable now," Yang Hao said, "but in a few years, it won't be uncommon for entire teams to average over 10 kilometers of running per match."

"Ten kilometers?" Lillo was visibly shocked.

In the slow-paced style of contemporary La Liga, eight or nine kilometers per player was already impressive.

"Not just 10 kilometers, but sustained across an entire season," Yang Hao added with conviction.

After all, he had witnessed this evolution firsthand in his previous life.

Lillo, however, was astonished. He knew that increasing a team's average distance by even a kilometer per match was akin to adding an extra player on the pitch. A team effectively playing 12 versus 11 would have an overwhelming advantage.

Yang Hao also mentioned Marcelo Bielsa, which further piqued Lillo's interest.

The two continued their discussion for over an hour, delving into everything from tactics to player management.

By the end, it was clear that they were aligned in their vision for the team.

Before leaving, Lillo agreed to join Atlético on a short-term contract, with the potential to extend if the team avoided relegation.

Yang Hao, now visibly relieved, turned to Parales, who had been waiting outside the office.

"Well?" Parales asked with a grin.

"He's in," Yang Hao replied.

"Guess you'll be able to sleep a bit more now," Parales joked.

Yang Hao nodded, smiling.

In Marcelo Bielsa's football philosophy, rotation plays a crucial role.

Simply put, players in the attacking third take turns pressing the opposition, while others use this time to rest and recover.

Juanma Lillo, having long admired Bielsa, had paid close attention to Argentina's matches to study his methods.

As their conversation deepened, Yang Hao and Lillo discovered they shared many similar ideas.

For instance, neither liked slow, ponderous possession play. Both preferred high-tempo football, quick passing combinations, and relentless high pressing.

Yang Hao believed that in the coming years, tactical trends would demand even greater precision. Players' roles would become more specialized, with clearer divisions of responsibility. These changes would place higher demands on head coaches and their staff.

Additionally, the tempo of attack and defense would only accelerate.

Lillo quickly picked up on a key implication of Yang Hao's vision: defense.

"Are you suggesting that defensive standards will rise significantly in the coming years?" Lillo asked.

Yang Hao paused for a moment, briefly caught off guard. Then he realized where Lillo was going.

Why would the pace of attack and defense quicken?

To exploit moments of transition.

Why exploit transitions?

Because once a defense is set, breaking it down becomes exponentially harder.

Lillo's sharp intellect had led him straight to the heart of the matter.

"You're absolutely right," Yang Hao replied. "More and more coaches are adopting Sacchi's defensive philosophies. In the coming years, defensive standards in Europe's top leagues will far surpass what we see today."

Who would have predicted that FC Porto and AS Monaco would meet in a Champions League final?

Or that Greece would win the European Championship?

These teams dominated Europe not with star-studded rosters but with exceptional defensive organization.

Even before Porto's 2004 triumph, the 2003 Champions League final between AC Milan and Juventus had been an infamous 0–0 draw that went to penalties.

Building on Lillo's observations, Yang Hao elaborated on his ideas. Having witnessed these developments firsthand in his previous life, his conviction was unshakable. This confidence left Lillo both surprised and impressed.

Yang Hao's logic was seamless.

If defensive standards rose, one inevitable consequence would be an increased emphasis on breaking down well-organized defenses.

When an opponent was in position and ready, how would teams create scoring opportunities?

Yang Hao outlined two primary approaches:

Possession-based play: Constant passing and ball movement to stretch and destabilize the defensive structure, creating gaps to exploit.

Lateral and diagonal long passes: Shifting the ball quickly from congested areas to less defended zones.

The first approach—possession football—was epitomized by the legendary Barcelona teams that came to dominate the world. This method required players with exceptional passing and control, as well as the ability to turn possession into genuine attacking threats.

Players like Messi and Iniesta.

The second approach, long passes, was also a familiar strategy. Playmakers such as Xabi Alonso, Pirlo, Scholes, and Toni Kroos excelled in this regard, capable of transferring the ball from crowded areas to open spaces in seconds.

Yang Hao also mentioned Rijkaard's Barcelona, whose hallmark attacking move involved Ronaldinho cutting inside from the left and delivering diagonal passes to Eto'o or the right winger.

At the core of both approaches was the concept of ball rotation.

With rotation came another tactical evolution: the rising importance of the flanks, especially full-backs.

Regardless of tactical shifts, the center of the pitch would always remain the most densely defended area. In contrast, the wings offered more space.

Even the best defensive teams couldn't cover both the center and both flanks simultaneously. When one side was secured, the other was inevitably left vulnerable.

This created opportunities for full-backs to become more influential—though not just any full-backs. The future would demand full-backs with both attacking prowess and playmaking ability.

Not just Cafu or Roberto Carlos, but players capable of dictating play and delivering precise crosses or passes.

As a time traveler with a 23-year head start—and a former football writer who, while not successful, had conducted extensive research—Yang Hao had a unique advantage.

Though he lacked Lillo's professional coaching expertise, his broad perspective and insight into football's future gave him a distinct edge.

Often, Yang Hao's offhand remarks left Lillo stunned, exclaiming that they were impossible.

Yet after some reflection and discussion, Lillo would frequently come to a moment of epiphany, realizing Yang Hao's ideas made perfect sense.

As their conversation continued, Lillo's feelings toward Yang Hao shifted dramatically. Initially intrigued, he grew increasingly impressed, then awestruck. His gaze reflected a mix of shock, admiration, and curiosity, and by the end, he seemed almost ready to bow down in reverence.

After about an hour of intense discussion, Yang Hao glanced at the time—it was nearly time for the coaching staff's meeting.

Just as they were about to part ways, Lillo let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"For some reason," the Spaniard said with a wry smile, "I feel like I've forgotten how to coach."

Yang Hao laughed heartily, patting Lillo on the shoulder.

"You don't need to know how to coach," Yang Hao quipped. "As long as I do."

The two shared a laugh, their connection deepening with every word exchanged.

It felt like they had known each other forever—a true meeting of kindred spirits.

Juanma Lillo had decided to stay.

Known as an academic theorist, as Guardiola once described, Lillo was practically a "10/10" when it came to football knowledge.

When he agreed to help Yang Hao, he did so without hesitation.

During the subsequent coaches' meeting, Yang Hao introduced Juanma Lillo to the rest of the staff, announcing that he would serve as the first assistant coach. Lillo would be responsible for overseeing training, match preparation, and other day-to-day tasks—a clear demonstration of trust and responsibility.

Despite his new role, Lillo took his time to observe and familiarize himself with the team before diving in. That morning's training session followed the original plan and consisted of recovery drills—a routine necessity for players after matches, especially during a packed schedule like this one.

Yang Hao continued in his usual role as an observer, largely because he lacked the technical expertise to lead player training effectively. Though eager to learn, for now, he was more a student than a teacher.

However, there was a noticeable shift in attitude within the team.

Before the match against Barcelona, many players had looked at Yang Hao with skepticism—even contempt. How could someone who didn't even know how to train players call himself a head coach?

This disdain was part of the football world's "hierarchy of respect." For instance, coaches with professional playing experience often looked down on those without it—a criticism that Mourinho had faced throughout his career.

But after the emphatic win against Barcelona—and Yang Hao's bold advocacy on their behalf for overdue wages—those scornful glances softened significantly. Even players who had doubted him could no longer justify their disdain.

For key players like Valerón, Baraja, and Pablo García, who had thrived under Yang Hao's 4-2-3-1 system, their respect for him grew considerably.

After training, Yang Hao spent time speaking with Valerón, Baraja, and others, inquiring about their physical condition and recovery. Their positive feedback eased his concerns.

"Keep it up against Málaga this weekend!" Yang Hao encouraged them, earning appreciative nods.

The players could feel it: under Yang Hao's system, they were playing to their strengths and maximizing their potential.

Back in his office, Yang Hao called for Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink.

As Atlético's leading scorer and attacking talisman, the Dutch striker was someone Yang Hao needed to handle carefully. A striker in form was like a well-polished blade—sharp and devastating.

Hasselbaink arrived in good spirits, fresh off a hat-trick, grinning as he entered the office. Yang Hao immediately sensed the positive energy.

During their conversation, however, Yang Hao didn't dwell on the hat-trick. Instead, he focused on Hasselbaink's efforts in pressing and counter-pressing during the match.

"That was the most surprising part of your performance," Yang Hao said. "I think anyone who watched the game would see you in a whole new light—not just as a goal-scorer, but as someone who contributes so much more to the team."

Hasselbaink's smile widened, his delight evident.

The Dutchman confessed that he'd been reflecting on the match himself.

"I've been thinking about it since the game. There were a few moments where I could've done better. I think I can push it further next time," Hasselbaink said eagerly, brimming with ambition.

Yang Hao laughed and encouraged him further, saying he looked forward to the next match and believed Hasselbaink could continue to improve.

The conversation ended with a handshake, and Hasselbaink left the office beaming.

Shortly after, Parales and Lillo entered Yang Hao's office, both visibly intrigued by what they'd just witnessed.

The usually temperamental Hasselbaink had left looking as though he'd won the lottery.

Lillo, having heard plenty of stories about Hasselbaink's difficult personality, couldn't believe how Yang Hao had handled him so effortlessly.

Even Parales, who had witnessed Yang Hao's previous success in managing the locker room, found himself impressed anew.

"Honestly, Yang, how do you do it?" Lillo asked, genuinely curious as he took a seat.

Parales, as a physio who often worked closely with players, was equally eager to learn this skill.

"It's simple. Praise him," Yang Hao said nonchalantly.

"That's it?" Lillo was skeptical.

"Yeah, the last two coaches—Ranieri and Antic—did the same, but it didn't really work," Parales added, shaking his head.

Yang Hao chuckled at their reactions.

"This," he said with a grin, "is an incredibly nuanced art. It's practically metaphysical."

Both Lillo and Parales groaned in disbelief.

"Okay, okay. Let me explain it like this," Yang Hao said, leaning forward. "Imagine you're complimenting a stunningly beautiful woman. What do you say to her?"

"Tell her she's beautiful?" ventured Parales, the straightforward, logical thinker.

"And she'll respond, 'I already know that,'" Yang Hao shot back with a laugh.

"Recite poetry?" Lillo suggested, revealing a more artistic side.

"Sure, if you want to look pretentious," Yang Hao quipped.

Yang Hao then broke it down.

"It's not about just saying something generic. It's about making them see themselves differently—showing them something they didn't realize about themselves."

"In Hasselbaink's case, I didn't gush over his goals. That's what everyone expects. Instead, I focused on his pressing, something people rarely praise him for. Suddenly, he's not just a scorer—he's a player with dimension and depth."

Yang Hao leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face. "That's how you win them over. Make them feel extraordinary for something they hadn't even noticed about themselves."

Lillo and Parales exchanged glances, nodding slowly as the truth sank in.

"That's... actually brilliant," Lillo admitted, his admiration growing.

Parales, always the pragmatist, added, "So it's not just about what you say, but how you make them feel about it."

"Exactly," Yang Hao said, clapping his hands.

As Lillo sat back, deep in thought, he muttered, "I've spent so many years mastering tactics, but this... this is another level entirely."

Yang Hao chuckled. "Don't worry, Juanma. I'll handle the smooth-talking. You just focus on getting the team ready."

Once again, the two men shared a laugh.

It was clear—they made an excellent team.

Yang Hao didn't mince words. He bluntly said, "Cut the nonsense. You're missing the point."

The two men, Parales and Juanma Lillo, instantly realized their mistake. They listened intently, eager to learn more.

"When it comes to exceptionally beautiful women, they've grown up hearing compliments about their looks their entire lives. Do you really think saying, 'You're beautiful,' is going to impress them? Or even praising their elegance or style? It's too generic—it doesn't stick."

The two pondered this for a moment, and clarity dawned.

"You mean we should focus on something deeper, more personal?" Parales asked, showing a knack for catching on.

"Exactly. Something internal. But here's the trick: you need to dig into their weak points or perceived flaws. For instance, if she's not confident in her makeup skills, you could say, 'Your makeup looks amazing today.' Make it specific and meaningful."

Parales's eyes lit up.

So, even flattery had to be strategic. This wasn't just empty praise—it was a subtle art.

"Hasselbaink is renowned for his goal-scoring ability. Everyone knows it, and even his critics begrudgingly acknowledge it. But his tactical value? That's where people often criticize him."

"That's true," Parales nodded, fully understanding the logic now.

"But honestly, he wasn't that great at tactical play in the last match either," Lillo interjected, still unconvinced.

Yang Hao sighed. There were just some people who lacked the natural instinct for this.

"Juanma, have you ever played video games?"

Lillo shook his head, but Parales nodded eagerly.

Abandoning all hope of enlightening Lillo, Yang Hao turned to Parales. "Alright then, do you know why people love video games?"

"To pass the time? Relax and have fun?" Parales ventured.

"Go deeper."

Parales frowned, thinking hard, but ultimately shook his head.

"Because of the sense of satisfaction they offer. Every time you click a button or press a key, the game gives you immediate feedback. The characters respond to your input right away, and that creates a feeling of fulfillment."

"And so…?"

"When a player shows improvement in an area, even slightly, you should reinforce it with positive feedback. It fuels their motivation. Doesn't that make sense?"

Parales and Lillo exchanged glances, dumbfounded.

They'd never realized how much psychology was involved in managing players.

"Does this really work?" Lillo asked, still skeptical.

Yang Hao grinned. "I'll bet you, Juanma: in the next match, Hasselbaink will play even harder than he did against Barcelona. Want to wager on it?"

Compliments, when they hit the right spot, were addictive. The more you praised someone where it counted, the more eager they were to keep excelling. It was like a rush of adrenaline—or, in this case, a metaphorical dose of performance-enhancing praise.

Of course, this approach required a tailored understanding of the individual. Luckily, Hasselbaink's personality made him an ideal candidate for this method.

Parales raised a hand, as if in a classroom. "I've got a question, Yang."

"Go ahead."

"You're giving him this kind of praise now, and he's responding well. But what if he moves to a different team, or gets a coach who doesn't understand him like you do? What then?"

Yang Hao paused for a moment, then replied with a deadpan expression: "That's not my problem."

The two men froze, then burst out laughing.

He had a point.

As a head coach, Yang Hao's priority was the here and now—getting results with the players he had. Worrying about their future coaches or transfers? That wasn't part of the job description.

For that matter, Yang Hao wasn't even thinking as far ahead as next season.

His focus was singular: keeping Atlético Madrid in La Liga.

If he could accomplish that, it would solidify his reputation and possibly secure his position at the club. And if not? Other teams would undoubtedly take notice of his achievements.

Beyond this season, anything else was someone else's problem.

After some lighthearted banter, the conversation shifted back to the upcoming match.

Yang Hao had done his homework, and Lillo had spent the last few days reviewing Málaga's games. Given his unemployment, Lillo had plenty of time to study La Liga, so he was well-versed in the current state of the league and its teams.

Málaga was a tough opponent. Despite being based in the south, they played an aggressive, physical style. They were strong defensively, capable offensively, and lethal on the counterattack. Players like Catanha—one of the league's top scorers—made them especially dangerous.

Catanha's ability was on par with Hasselbaink's, and the two, along with Salva, were locked in a fierce race for the Golden Boot.

In Yang Hao's previous timeline, Salva had claimed the award, with Hasselbaink taking second and Catanha finishing third.

But now, with Yang Hao's influence, Hasselbaink's trajectory had changed. How the standings would shake out remained uncertain, especially with Atlético's new tactics.

"For the Málaga match," Yang Hao said, looking directly at Lillo, "I'm thinking of trying a different approach."

 "What's your take on playing against Málaga?"

Yang Hao cut straight to the chase, placing his biggest headache before Juanma Lillo.

Parales had stepped out to prepare coffee for the two of them, leaving Lillo and Yang Hao to strategize. Though they had only met that morning, their chemistry was evident. Yang Hao felt an immediate camaraderie with Lillo and trusted him enough to discuss plans openly.

This openness wasn't lost on Lillo.

Most head coaches, including Lillo himself, would typically prefer to work with familiar faces when hiring assistant coaches—a practice honed by countless experiences in the football world. If forced to work with someone new, there was always an adjustment period.

But Yang Hao had dived in without hesitation, entrusting Lillo with complete transparency.

Even though Lillo knew that Yang Hao was likely acting out of necessity, the gesture still sparked a sense of trust and appreciation within him. After all, being needed, trusted, and valued is something most people crave.

Despite his inner feelings, Lillo maintained a calm exterior, keeping his thoughts hidden.

"Málaga is a peculiar team," Lillo began. "If you call them weak, that doesn't seem accurate. They've made Barcelona, Real Madrid, Valencia, and even Deportivo La Coruña suffer this season. They've also had dominant wins like 3–4 against Real Betis or thrashing Real Oviedo.

"But if you call them strong, that doesn't feel right either. They've had some baffling losses, like 2–4 to Valladolid, 1–4 to Rayo Vallecano, or a 0–1 home defeat against Alavés. Inconsistencies abound."

Lillo paused, reflecting.

"It's tricky to pin them down," he admitted. "Against top-tier teams, they can fight toe-to-toe. They dominate lower-table teams when they attack aggressively. But when it comes to mid-table squads..."

Yang Hao smiled, picking up the thread.

"They seem to struggle against teams with solid defenses, especially when they concede first. Comebacks are rare for them."

Lillo's brows furrowed in thought. "Now that you mention it, I can't recall them pulling off a comeback this season. The best example would be their 2–2 draw against Real Oviedo, where they equalized twice. Beyond that..."

"And they hardly ever lose their lead once they go ahead, except for that one game against Deportivo La Coruña."

Deportivo had been an offensive powerhouse in La Liga, second only to Barcelona in goals scored. And Barça, of course, had the likes of Rivaldo, Kluivert, and Figo. Losing to a team like Deportivo was hardly embarrassing.

"When you put it that way," Lillo continued, "Málaga does seem to falter when trailing against teams with strong defenses. Their greatest strength is the counterattack. Whether it's Catanha or Darío Silva, they're most lethal in transition."

Real Oviedo's defensive woes mirrored Atlético Madrid's—if anything, Oviedo's defense might have been even shakier.

By now, Lillo had pieced together Yang Hao's strategy.

"You want us to attack early, score first, then switch to a counterattacking setup to force Málaga to come out and play?"

Yang Hao nodded. "Exactly. When they're forced to abandon their counterattacking game and go on the offensive, that's when we can strike most effectively, isn't it?"

As Yang Hao spoke, a name surfaced in his mind—Fernando Torres.

The youngster was still in the youth academy. Yang Hao had intended to call him up previously, but Torres wasn't available then, and the plan was shelved.

Torres excelled at breaking through defensive lines. His ability to burst past defenders in one-on-one situations was nearly unstoppable. Unfortunately, injuries later in his career robbed him of much of his speed and explosiveness.

Without those physical attributes, Torres's less refined technique became a glaring flaw.

From Liverpool to Chelsea, Torres made another critical misstep. At Chelsea, a Didier Drogba-type center forward was needed—someone who could serve as the focal point for balls coming out of midfield.

But Torres? He thrived when his teammates created chances for him to run onto, enabling him to exploit space. At Chelsea, the tactical mismatch made his stint there a difficult one.

Right now, Atlético still had Hasselbaink, so there was no urgent need for Torres.

"Your idea is solid, but it carries risks," Lillo cautioned.

"That's normal," Yang Hao replied calmly. "In our situation, taking risks is unavoidable."

After all, Málaga would have studied Atlético's current predicament. Would they stick to their counterattacking style, or would they adopt a defensive stance at the Calderón?

It was a real possibility, especially after Atlético's recent 4–1 win over Barcelona.

Lillo understood Yang Hao's reasoning but felt compelled to address another concern—Atlético's lack of mobility in the attacking third.

Having a background steeped in 4–2–3–1 formations and high pressing, Lillo knew firsthand how crucial stamina and off-ball movement were to such systems.

"Let's be honest—Atlético's current front line doesn't have the legs to sustain this approach."

Lillo's assessment was blunt but fair.

In football, physicality, technical skill, and reputation mattered less if stamina was lacking. Without endurance, nothing else mattered.

And Atlético's current squad?

Solari was passable. Hasselbaink was reluctant to press, preferring to conserve his energy for scoring opportunities. Valerón's speed was underwhelming, and while he excelled in technical play, he was neither a defensive asset nor a tireless runner. Aguilera, meanwhile, was aging and struggling to cope with the demands of back-to-back fixtures.

Expecting this lineup to execute a high press? That was wishful thinking.

Lillo's critique didn't offend Yang Hao. He was acutely aware of the limitations.

Valerón, in particular, didn't fit his vision of an ideal attacking midfielder. A classic No. 10, Valerón was ill-suited for the modern, high-tempo, pressing game Yang Hao envisioned. But for now, Valerón was the best option available.

"As you said, Joaquín Peiró knows we're desperate to avoid relegation and that we'll be gunning for a win at home. He might set up to counterattack and wait for us to press forward."

Juanma Lillo spread his hands and nodded. "If I were in his shoes, I'd definitely do the same!"

"That's precisely why it's crucial for us to score first," Yang Hao said firmly.

Lillo pondered Yang Hao's point deeply.

Six games left, and Atlético Madrid needed four wins. Málaga was a tough opponent, but which of the other five teams weren't?

Failing to secure a victory against Málaga would erase the momentum and morale built after the 4–1 triumph over Barcelona.

This was about the bigger picture.

In practical terms, to win, Atlético needed goals, and they'd have to press forward to get them. Doing so earlier rather than later ensured they retained control of the game.

At that realization, Lillo began to grasp Yang Hao's reasoning.

His understanding of Yang Hao deepened further.

Young as he was, Yang Hao displayed remarkable clarity and decisiveness, going straight to the heart of the matter.

"Let's work on something. I'll give you two training sessions—enough time to implement a high-pressing strategy. Even if it's just to secure an early goal."

Once they scored, Yang Hao would assess the game's flow and decide whether to fall back and stabilize or press for another goal to kill the game.

Football was unpredictable. Having multiple plans was essential.

"Two sessions are tight. The players might not be able to execute it perfectly," Lillo warned.

Yang Hao didn't argue. He simply looked at him, his gaze seeming to say: You'll figure something out. Use that sharp brain of yours!

Lillo saw the look, sighed, and gave a wry smile. "I really feel like I've been roped onto a pirate ship. This paycheck won't be easy to earn."

"If we avoid relegation, you'll get a nice bonus too," Yang Hao reminded him with a grin.

Avoiding relegation? Easier said than done.

But now that Lillo had taken the job, found common ground with Yang Hao, and earned his trust and responsibility, there was no reason not to give it his all.

"Are we sticking with recovery training this afternoon?"

Yang Hao nodded.

Typically, recovery training required at least two sessions. Afterward, the team would transition into tactical adjustments.

Yang Hao had discussed this with the coaching staff earlier and estimated they could allocate two sessions for Lillo's pressing drills.

Time was incredibly tight. Every minute counted.

"Alright, I'll take the next two afternoon sessions. I'll put together something focused. Also, I'll need extra time to explain the details of pressing and the tactical objectives we're aiming for."

"Done. I'll arrange it," Yang Hao agreed readily.

Lillo thought for a moment, then added, "I can handle setting up targeted training, but you'll need to convince the players. On the pitch—whether in practice or during the game—they have to buy in, especially that troublemaker... and Valerón."

Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink was a known wildcard. Valerón wasn't exactly uncooperative, but his defensive effort was often lacking.

"Our entire structure and attack revolve around Valerón. That won't change," Yang Hao reminded him.

That was the team's overarching strategy.

"Understood. He performed brilliantly against Barcelona."

"Good. Leave the players to me—I'll handle them."

Three days ago, Yang Hao wouldn't have made such a confident promise. Now, he could.

...

Juanma Lillo wasn't one to procrastinate.

Since he had committed to Yang Hao, he immediately started working on his plans. He didn't even touch his coffee.

Yang Hao was no different. As soon as he saw Parales walk in with coffee in hand, he sent him to fetch Valerón. There was no time to waste.

Atlético Madrid's timeline was running out.

The upcoming match against Málaga wasn't just important—it was crucial.

Winning this game was the only way to keep their survival hopes alive.

(End of Chapter)

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