Chapter 242: Barca Is Incurable

"The food at this restaurant is good, but I kinda miss Juan Rotaco in Madrid."

On the way back to the hotel, Gao Shen commented with a satisfied expression. He had clearly enjoyed the meal.

Guardiola, sitting beside him, was equally content. Not only had his favorite player, Busquets, not been poached by Gao Shen, but he had also enjoyed watching Gao Shen in action, slyly negotiating and cutting deals. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"I bet you never really wanted Busquets," Guardiola remarked.

Gao Shen, sitting in the passenger seat, turned to glance at his friend. "Of course not. I'm not that dumb. Busquets is my gift to you. You won't have to worry about the kid for a while."

Guardiola laughed. "So, you do have a conscience after all."

"Come on, you think I didn't know Barcelona would never sell Busquets?" Gao Shen teased, grinning.

Guardiola shook his head, amused. "You never had any intention of getting Belletti either, did you? From the very beginning, you were after Thiago Motta. You just dragged it out and played it slow, cutting the price down in the end."

Indeed, the Milan clubs had initially offered €1.5 million to take Thiago Motta, but Barcelona rejected that offer. In the end, Gao Shen managed to pull off a deal, getting Motta for €1 million. As part of the agreement, there was an additional clause: if Motta reached a certain number of appearances in the next season, Napoli would pay another €1 million.

But either way, securing a player valued at €6 million for such a deal was a steal.

Gao Shen felt proud of his negotiating skills but kept up a façade of reluctance. "Don't think I took advantage of your Barcelona. Let's be real here would Thiago Motta even get playing time in his current state of mind? Do you think he would perform well?"

Gao Shen continued, "In the second half of last season, he didn't even show up for training at times. And this season, with so much internal competition, do you think he'd do anything other than sit on the bench? If he stays another year, Barcelona might end up releasing him for free."

Guardiola had to admit that Gao Shen's analysis made sense. Thiago Motta had been cast aside by Rijkaard and Barcelona management.

"You're right," Guardiola conceded. "But can you stop acting like you're doing us a favor? You're getting a good deal here, so don't act like you're being ripped off."

Gao Shen gave an exaggerated shrug. "Can't help it, I'm a businessman."

"Oh, by the way, don't worry about seeing me off tomorrow. I'll call a cab to the airport myself," Gao Shen suddenly said.

Guardiola, suspecting nothing, nodded. "Sure."

---

The next day, just before noon, Gao Shen sat in his hotel, waiting to meet Thiago Motta.

After the negotiations with Begiristain the night before, Gao Shen had gotten Motta's contact information. He reached out to the player, arranging a private meeting to discuss his potential transfer to Napoli. Gao Shen knew that in order to move forward, he needed Motta's agreement.

For Gao Shen, communication was key when managing a locker room. He wanted to meet Motta personally and ensure they were on the same page. Guardiola didn't need to know about this after all, Napoli hadn't formally submitted an offer to Barcelona yet. Technically, it was illegal for Gao Shen to meet Motta without permission, but such practices were common in football.

Thiago Motta was a dual-nationality player, holding both Brazilian and Italian citizenship. Gao Shen remembered that Motta would eventually choose to represent Italy in international football rather than Brazil. The player was 25, and while his career had once looked promising, injuries had derailed his progress.

When Gao Shen had coached Real Madrid, Motta had been a key player for Barcelona. At the time, he had shown immense potential, but injuries especially a major one to his right knee had taken their toll. Now, he looked defeated, lacking the confidence of his younger self.

Sitting down with Gao Shen, Motta got straight to the point. "My agent said Barcelona hasn't informed me of any offer."

Gao Shen smiled, undeterred. "I've already spoken with Begiristain, but since we haven't made an official offer yet, Barcelona wouldn't notify you. If you aren't interested in joining Napoli, we won't proceed with the offer, and you can pretend this conversation never happened."

Motta was silent for a moment, processing Gao Shen's words. He understood that Gao Shen had no reason to lie. He sighed, "I don't understand why you'd want me. You've got plenty of talented players in Napoli already."

"You're right," Gao Shen agreed, "We have Biglia, Rakitic, Vidal, and Hamsik. And we plan to bring in more high-level midfielders this summer. But that's exactly why I need you."

Motta was puzzled. "Why me?"

"I'm planning to use a 4-3-3 formation next season, similar to Barcelona's system. For that, I need a deep-lying playmaker, someone who can dictate the tempo, make incisive passes, and defend well. You need to have the ability to protect the defense while also being able to step forward and organize the play. Among the players I've considered, you're the best fit for that role."

Motta looked down at his hands, which trembled slightly. He was nervous, uncertain of himself after months maybe years of self-doubt. But hearing these words from Gao Shen, the same coach who had led Real Madrid to glory, stirred something within him.

"You should know about Jonathan Woodgate, right?" Gao Shen asked, changing the subject abruptly.

Motta nodded. How could he not? The English center-back had been plagued by injuries throughout his career.

"When I was at Real Madrid, Woodgate had constant injury problems. But under my tenure, he never missed a game due to injury. After I left, well… you know what happened," Gao Shen said, referencing Woodgate's return to the Premier League, where he was once again sidelined by injuries.

Motta was intrigued. "So, you think you can help me?"

"I'm confident of it," Gao Shen said firmly. "Your surgery was successful. The problem lies in how you're training and managing your body. With the right approach, you can avoid further injuries."

Motta was listening intently now, clearly moved.

"And," Gao Shen added, "While our midfield is strong, I need someone who can fit into that deep-lying role in a 4-3-3. You're the player I need for that position, Thiago."

Motta's eyes widened. Here was a coach telling him he was needed, that he could still be important. After years of feeling like a forgotten man at Barcelona, this was exactly what he needed to hear.

"I understand, Mr. Gao," Motta said, his voice steadier now. "I'm willing to join Napoli."

Gao Shen smiled, pleased with the response. "Don't worry, we'll make sure the contract is fair, too."

In terms of salary, Thiago Motta's contract at Barcelona wasn't particularly high, so Napoli wouldn't have to break the bank to sign him.

"Take some time to relax for now. Leave the past behind you. In the new season, we're going to aim for the Serie A title," Gao Shen said confidently.

Motta's eyes lit up. "Are you really aiming for the title?"

Gao Shen smiled. "Why not? Do you think I can't do it?"

Motta shook his head quickly. "No, I believe you can. It's just… I didn't expect it."

"We're building a team to win the Scudetto, Thiago. And I expect you to give everything you've got. I believe in you, and you need to start believing in yourself again."

Hearing these words, Motta felt a renewed sense of purpose. His confidence, once shattered, was slowly starting to return.