NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 9: Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Leaving the Mahadahonda training ground, Miguel Gil rubbed his temples in frustration.
He couldn't pinpoint when it started, but talking with Yang Hao had become increasingly exhausting.
It wasn't because Yang Hao was arrogant or domineering. No, he was still the same Yang Hao Miguel had met in that bar, and their relationship remained close.
But Yang Hao's ideas often left Miguel feeling out of his depth. Sometimes, he even wondered if he was simply too dumb to keep up.
For instance, Yang Hao had told him that Atlético needed to professionalize its management by hiring experts in finance and operations. Miguel understood and agreed, but how exactly should they recruit? Who qualified as an expert?
In the end, it was Yang Hao who advised him: "Focus on people from the Big Four accounting firms—PwC, KPMG, Deloitte, and EY."
Even with this clear direction, Miguel still hadn't made progress.
Yang Hao also spoke about the importance of globalizing Atlético's brand, urging Miguel to seize this golden opportunity to establish the club internationally. He painted a vivid picture of the future: in a few years, they could buy land and build a new stadium, propelling Atlético into the ranks of Europe's elite.
The vision made Miguel's blood race. But how was he supposed to make it happen?
Miguel was utterly clueless about globalization.
And it wasn't just him. He'd asked Enrique Cerezo, Paulo Futre, and even some of the more experienced employees at the Gil family company, but none of them had a clear concept of how to globalize a football club.
This latest situation with Van der Sar was no different.
Yang Hao had made a compelling case for signing the Dutch goalkeeper. His reasoning seemed logical, but Miguel and Paulo Futre were left scratching their heads.
"I think this must be the difference between a genius and an ordinary person," Miguel said with a bitter smile.
Driving beside him, Paulo Futre wore a similarly helpless expression. He didn't fully grasp Yang Hao's arguments but couldn't deny they sounded profound.
Particularly the idea of integrating a goalkeeper into the tactical system—it felt both revolutionary and intimidating.
"Actually," Futre said after a moment, "I think his approach aligns with Dutch football and the current trends in Spain's goalkeeper training."
Spain's goalkeeper training methods were heavily influenced by Frans Hoek, a former assistant to Louis van Gaal. This, coupled with the physical traits of Spanish players—most goalkeepers stood around 1.85 meters tall—had shaped a generation of keepers like Iker Casillas, Víctor Valdés, and Pepe Reina.
Atlético's current keeper, Molina, was no exception.
Spain's adoption of Dutch-style possession football was partly due to physical limitations. Goalkeeper training followed the same trajectory.
"From that perspective," Futre continued, "I can see why Yang Hao would want Van der Sar. The logic checks out. But whether we can pull it off is another matter."
Futre had discussed the possibility of bringing in Portuguese goalkeeper Ricardo with agent José Vega. But now, with Yang Hao holding the final say on transfers, Futre felt sidelined.
Miguel glanced at Futre and sympathized with his frustration.
Anyone in Futre's position would feel uneasy.
Yang Hao had assured Miguel he wasn't trying to undermine Futre's authority, but his hands-on approach to building the squad inevitably encroached on the sporting director's responsibilities.
Miguel acknowledged this tension but also understood his own limitations. Without Yang Hao's guidance, he and Cerezo would struggle to seize the opportunity for globalization.
Missing this window could mean resigning Atlético to mediocrity while Real Madrid and Barcelona dominated La Liga's global appeal, leaving scraps for the rest.
The thought filled Miguel with urgency and determination.
His father, Jesús Gil, planned to step back and let him and Cerezo take over. Miguel couldn't sit idly by while such a critical moment slipped away. He had to act.
Preparation for the Copa del Rey Final
In football, some matches require no extra motivation—like finals or derbies.
The Copa del Rey final between Atlético and Real Madrid was one of those games.
Everyone at Atlético was fired up, eager to test themselves against their city rivals.
While Real Madrid had been grinding through a grueling schedule, Atlético had enjoyed two full weeks to prepare.
Yang Hao dedicated the first week to high-intensity training, pushing players physically to ensure peak fitness for the final. The second week focused on tactical preparations.
Vicente del Bosque's Real Madrid was known for its cautious approach.
Their typical 5-3-2 formation featured a defensive line of Roberto Carlos, Ivan Campo, Iván Helguera, Aitor Karanka, and Michel Salgado. The midfield trio usually consisted of Savio, Fernando Redondo, and Steve McManaman, with Fernando Morientes and Raúl spearheading the attack.
In their recent match against Bayern, Morientes had been injured, forcing Del Bosque to pair Nicolas Anelka with Raúl.
Though nominally a five-man defense, Roberto Carlos and Michel Salgado frequently surged forward. Carlos, in particular, played more like an additional winger than a left-back.
In attack, the left flank led by Carlos and Savio was particularly potent.
Captain Fernando Hierro, who had been injured during the second group stage of the Champions League in March, had recently recovered. He played 20 minutes as a substitute in Real Madrid's final league match.
In Yang Hao's recollection of his past life, Hierro didn't start in the Champions League final either but came on as a substitute. If Hierro were to start in the Copa del Rey final, the player likely to be replaced would be Iván Campo or Aitor Karanka.
"Real Madrid's tactical approach under Vicente del Bosque has largely abandoned central passing and buildup play, focusing instead on wing play and long balls," Yang Hao analyzed.
This was a defensive, counter-attacking system that often drew criticism from fans and the media for being overly conservative.
"Not only that, but forwards like Morientes and Raúl actively press high and work tirelessly, forming a robust three-layered defensive structure from the forwards to the midfield and back to the defenders," Yang Hao explained.
In some ways, Del Bosque's greatest success with Real Madrid was in rebuilding the team's defensive organization.
This iteration of Real Madrid didn't prioritize possession but fought harder than most teams.
Yang Hao vividly remembered watching the 2000 Champions League final. One of the most striking moments was when Morientes pressured Valencia's goalkeeper so intensely that he nearly collided with him. In another instance, Raúl aggressively won back possession in the attacking third and nearly scored with a long-range chip.
This wasn't unique to the Champions League final; Real Madrid played with the same intensity in other matches.
Currently, Real Madrid wasn't the galáctico-laden squad of the future, but they were cohesive and pragmatic.
For instance, in the Champions League final against Valencia, Del Bosque fielded Morientes, Raúl, and Anelka in a formation resembling a 5-2-1-2. Raúl operated in a free role just behind the two strikers, creating a fluid and effective dynamic.
Against stronger opponents, Del Bosque would often switch to a 5-3-2 formation.
Faced with Real Madrid's defensive counter-attacking style, Yang Hao needed to carefully plan Atlético's approach.
"Looking at Real Madrid's performances this season, one glaring weakness stands out—their attack isn't very effective," assistant coach Juanma Lillo pointed out.
"Especially under Del Bosque, their conservative tactics mean that against strong defensive teams, Real Madrid's attack often struggles."
"But their set pieces are highly dangerous, and our defense against set pieces, particularly aerial balls, is a clear vulnerability. We must focus heavily on practicing our set-piece defense in the lead-up to the final," Lillo emphasized.
Under John Toshack earlier in the season, Real Madrid had been an attacking force but defensively fragile. This imbalance led to Toshack's dismissal before December.
Del Bosque, stepping in as a caretaker, had significantly improved the defensive structure, but this came at the expense of offensive potency.
"Del Bosque emphasizes wing play to maximize Morientes' aerial threat and Raúl's predatory instincts," Yang Hao said, moving to the tactics board.
He drew two elongated ovals down the flanks in Atlético's defensive half.
"We need to shut down Real Madrid's wing play and bottle them up in these areas," Yang Hao explained.
Atlético's strength in pressing and localized pressure had been a cornerstone of Yang Hao's tactics since taking over the team. Lillo, an expert in this area, had been instrumental in fine-tuning this approach.
"Real Madrid's three center-backs won't push forward, and even their wing-backs, Carlos and Salgado, won't advance simultaneously. Otherwise, what's the point of playing five at the back?"
Yang Hao's analysis of Real Madrid's setup was spot on. Despite being described as a 3-5-2 or 5-3-2 formation, it was fundamentally conservative—suited to Real Madrid's current needs.
"On defense, the key is to force Morientes and Raúl away from goal. I suspect that Del Bosque, being cautious, won't field three forwards against us. He knows we're strong in the half-spaces."
Yang Hao spoke with confidence.
Atlético's ability to exploit the half-spaces had become well-known after their performance against Barcelona.
If Del Bosque dared to field three forwards, leaving only Redondo and McManaman in midfield, Yang Hao wouldn't hesitate to attack the midfield and Real Madrid's half-spaces, causing chaos in their defensive structure.
Redondo, while still influential, was nearing 31 and no longer as physically dominant as before.
"I see—you're planning to approach this match like we did against Valencia," Lillo said with a smile.
Yang Hao nodded. "We have a fitness advantage and can outlast them. But the key is stabilizing our defense—we cannot concede first."
Falling behind would put Atlético at a severe disadvantage.
Real Madrid, playing three games in a week, had already lost their final league match. They were under immense pressure to win the Champions League final, leaving little in the tank for the Copa del Rey.
This fatigue would be Atlético's greatest advantage.
Yang Hao and Lillo knew that leveraging it effectively could lead to a historic victory for Atlético in the final.
On the evening of May 24th, at the Stade de France in Paris, Yang Hao, accompanied by Juanma Lillo, quietly appeared in the stands to watch the Champions League final.
The outcome was intriguing. The scoreline ended 3-0, and the goal scorers were still Morientes, McManaman, and Raúl, but the sequence and flow of the game were completely different from what Yang Hao remembered.
The opening goal came from McManaman, who unleashed a world-class strike from outside the box just before halftime, showcasing the brilliance of a true star.
In the second half, with Valencia pushing harder, Raúl capitalized on a chance with a long solo run, scoring to double Real Madrid's lead.
Finally, Morientes sealed the victory with a decisive header, putting the game beyond Valencia's reach.
Watching the match, Yang Hao reflected on the unpredictability and inevitability of football.
The inevitability was that Valencia was destined to lose—this could be deduced from the starting lineups and tactics of both coaches.
The unpredictability, however, lay in the myriad twists and turns within the match itself. Players' decisions, actions, and even the smallest moments could drastically alter the course of the game.
This duality is what makes football captivating. Even Zidane couldn't replicate his famous Champions League final volley in 2002 a hundred more times under the same circumstances.
Real Madrid's victory over Valencia felt inevitable, and that brought some pressure for Atlético, as they were about to face the newly crowned European champions.
But there was also a silver lining: Real Madrid's players had expended significant energy, having been pushed to their limits.
Throughout the game, Valencia held some advantages in possession and control. Still, Real Madrid created more shots and higher-quality chances.
The difference came down to Valencia's lack of creativity in the final third.
"Eleven shots but only one on target—this isn't a case of bad luck but an inability to create meaningful opportunities," Yang Hao noted post-match.
Valencia's relentless, methodical buildup was no match for Real Madrid's defensive wall.
"Trying to press forward and attack against this Real Madrid team is a dangerous gamble," Yang Hao concluded.
Juanma Lillo, a proponent of high pressing, had to agree. Watching the match unfold validated Yang Hao's concerns.
Real Madrid frequently defended with eight players, sometimes even ten, forming three compact lines to stifle Valencia's attacks.
Valencia, despite recovering possession and building up the play patiently, always found themselves up against a well-organized defense.
"Fernando Hierro may be a symbol of Real Madrid, but the real key to their defense is Iván Helguera. His intelligence and ability to organize the backline, along with his passing out from defense, make him irreplaceable," Yang Hao explained.
Helguera, though not a standout in individual duels, brought awareness and technical skills to Real Madrid's backline.
At this point in his career, Helguera was indispensable, but Yang Hao knew his future—he'd become a victim of Real Madrid's galáctico policy.
"With our current squad, pushing forward recklessly against Real Madrid would be suicidal. We'd probably fare worse than Valencia," Yang Hao said with a wry smile.
Watching Valencia suffer had only reinforced his strategic approach.
Post-Match Reflections with Cúper
"Real Madrid played very conservatively tonight, but their star players made the difference," Héctor Cúper told Yang Hao outside the Stade de France locker rooms.
The Argentine coach maintained his usual stoic demeanor, though the exhaustion in his eyes betrayed his feelings. Losing back-to-back European finals—last year's UEFA Cup and now this—had to sting.
"You couldn't get that opening goal in the first 30 minutes; that's what made it so tough," Yang Hao observed.
Cúper nodded. Yang Hao was essentially pointing out that failing to score early meant Valencia couldn't dictate the game and should've adjusted by defending more cautiously.
But Cúper smiled bitterly. "It's not that simple. Once you commit to a strategy, pulling back isn't easy."
He elaborated:
"We went into this match with two options: either score early and control the game or dig in defensively and wait for the right moment to counter. Against this Real Madrid side, those were our only two viable choices."
Yang Hao agreed with the assessment. Against Real Madrid's star-studded lineup—Morientes and Raúl were among Europe's elite striking partnerships—there weren't many alternatives.
"When we chose to attack, we set a tone. The players understood that we had to strike first to stand a chance. But once we couldn't score early, retreating was no longer an option."
Cúper added, "Players aren't robots. You can't flip a switch and expect them to shift seamlessly between attacking and defending mindsets. It's not realistic."
Yang Hao understood. Valencia lacked the ability to control the tempo and adapt mid-game.
The difference lay in having players capable of dictating the flow. Cúper's Valencia lacked such players.
For instance, in 2023, Real Madrid's midfield maestros Modrić and Kroos epitomized control. Their presence gave Los Blancos composure and balance. Without them, the team often struggled with chaotic play.
Yang Hao left the stadium feeling validated in his approach. If Valencia's aggressive strategy against Real Madrid failed, Atlético couldn't afford to make the same mistake.
His game plan for the Copa del Rey final became even clearer:
Stay compact and disciplined defensively.
Exploit Real Madrid's physical fatigue.
Focus on set pieces and counterattacks to capitalize on moments of weakness.
"Real Madrid might be the European champions, but that only makes beating them in the Copa del Rey final even sweeter," Yang Hao thought.
Rafa Benítez's Liverpool, with or without Xabi Alonso, were two completely different teams. Similarly, Héctor Cúper's Valencia faced a fundamental issue: the lack of midfield control.
Atlético Madrid wasn't much different, except for having Juan Carlos Valerón. But heading into the Copa del Rey final, Valerón was certain to be closely marked by Real Madrid, forcing Yang Hao to make some adjustments.
"You guys seemed a bit nervous tonight," Yang Hao said, comforting the players.
"It's okay; next season, you'll get another chance to feel this 'nervousness.'"
Despite losing the Champions League final, Cúper offered some stern advice:
"If you make a decision, commit to it with absolute confidence. Otherwise, you won't beat Real Madrid."
As a fellow coach and a senior in the profession, Cúper had every right to give this advice, even after losing the final.
"I understand. Thank you for the reminder, Héctor," Yang Hao responded sincerely.
A Lesson Learned in Paris
"Did you notice something, Juanma?" Yang Hao said to his assistant on their flight back to Madrid.
"Cúper, like us, noticed Real Madrid's weak point. Vicente del Bosque's team is slow to start. They've scored very few goals in the first 30 minutes this season, often playing erratically during that period."
"But their defensive organization is solid," Yang Hao admitted.
Cúper had been tempted to attack early, but failing to score within the first 30 minutes left Valencia exposed and unable to recover. That's why they lost.
Yang Hao didn't believe Atlético's attacking unit—Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink, Santiago Solari, Aguilera, and Valerón—was stronger than Valencia's lineup of López, Angulo, Kily González, Farinós, and Mendieta.
If Valencia couldn't achieve it, Atlético certainly couldn't.
If this final were taking place a year later, with Yang Hao's own squad fully built and polished, he was confident he could outperform Cúper.
But for now, prudence was key.
"Time to play it safe?" suggested Juanma Lillo.
Yang Hao nodded. "Yes, but we won't just sit back and defend."
"Right—drag Real Madrid into a war of attrition, then use our superior stamina to take them down!" Lillo said enthusiastically.
In professional sports, every team seeks to maximize its strengths and exploit its opponent's weaknesses.
With Real Madrid boasting such a talented roster, Atlético was at a clear disadvantage. But with their opponent stretched thin by consecutive matches, this was an opportunity Yang Hao couldn't let slip.
"We need to focus on set pieces. From tonight's final, it's clear Del Bosque has been drilling them on dead-ball scenarios," Lillo noted.
Yang Hao nodded in agreement.
"It's just the Champions League winners, huh? Well, we'll take them down!" Yang Hao declared inwardly, his fighting spirit ignited.
Preparing for the Final Battle
After returning from France, Atlético threw themselves into final preparations.
The entire Majadahonda training complex was locked down. Media and fans were barred from entry, and security patrolled the facility's perimeter to prevent any Real Madrid scouts from sneaking in.
Yang Hao, alongside Lillo, led intensive sessions within the complex. They reviewed footage of Real Madrid's games, dissecting their attacking patterns and defensive setup, giving players a clearer picture of when and how to press.
Yang Hao believed that if they could suppress Real Madrid's wing play, the danger to their goal would decrease significantly.
Additionally, he repeatedly emphasized the importance of midfield dominance to Valerón and Rubén Baraja, urging them to control the tempo and dictate the match's flow.
"We need to play fast and tire them out. Push the pace and wear Real Madrid down!" Yang Hao explained. This was no secret strategy—it was an open declaration of intent.
At the same time, he warned his players to brace for an aggressive start from Real Madrid, who couldn't afford to conserve energy. A strong defensive setup was crucial in the opening stages.
Finally, Yang Hao ensured that the team rehearsed set-piece scenarios—both attacking and defending—and even practiced penalties.
He compiled data on Real Madrid's penalty takers, analyzing their tendencies and preferences, and shared it with goalkeeper José Francisco Molina.
He also studied Real Madrid's young goalkeeper, Iker Casillas, who, though inexperienced, had certain weaknesses Yang Hao remembered from his prior knowledge.
In short, Yang Hao left no stone unturned.
"I want you all to bring that Copa del Rey trophy back home!" he demanded.
The team, galvanized by his determination, responded with equal fervor.
This was more than a final—it was a battle to prove that Atlético Madrid belonged among Spain's elite once again.
Three days after the Champions League final, the Copa del Rey final took place at Valencia's Mestalla Stadium.
Real Madrid faced Atlético Madrid in a clash that drew 54,000 fans, seated in clearly divided sections that reflected the fierce rivalry between the two clubs.
Real Madrid's supporters were in jubilant spirits, fresh off their recent Champions League victory—an achievement they celebrated as a mark of unparalleled glory.
Some Madrid fans even unfurled banners reading: "Atlético, Kneel Before the Kings of Europe!"
This was Real Madrid's 8th European Cup, a legacy that loomed over their city rivals. Some fans used caricatures to mock Atlético's lack of European silverware, pointing out that their trophy cabinet only boasted a single Cup Winners' Cup from the 1960s.
To the Madridistas, a team like Atlético—who had barely escaped relegation—had no business challenging their crown.
Pre-Match Sentiment
Almost all the media outlets leading up to the game favored Real Madrid, predicting that the reigning European champions would ride their momentum to crush Atlético and claim the double.
Real Madrid president Lorenzo Sanz seized the opportunity to use the prospect of a domestic double as a campaign tool for his summer reelection bid.
"A domestic double is the best gift I can offer Madridistas—better than any superstar signing!" Sanz declared, directly challenging his main rival, Florentino Pérez, whose campaign revolved around promises of superstar signings, including Barcelona's Luís Figo.
The pro-Madrid press, including AS and Marca, as well as neutral outlets like El País and ABC, all leaned heavily toward Real Madrid. Yet, they also warned Vicente del Bosque's side to remain vigilant against Atlético.
After all, the "Giant Slayer" title wasn't given to Atlético lightly; both Valencia and Barcelona had fallen victim to Yang Hao's tactical acumen this season.
But most experts believed that Del Bosque, known for his cautious and methodical approach, would not repeat the mistakes of Valencia or Barça.
A Clash of Ambitions
Despite the final being held in Valencia, Real Madrid's Ultras Sur fan group had secured the most luxurious suite in the stadium for the occasion. The suite, sponsored by the prominent billionaire and Madrid supporter Fernández Tapias, was buzzing with energy.
As Florentino Pérez and his lawyer friend, Antonio de Blas, entered the suite, they found Tapias entertaining himself with a glamorous model. The other occupants of the suite paid no mind to the suggestive scene—it was a regular occurrence for Tapias, who was known for his two great passions: Real Madrid and women.
"Florentino, I didn't think you'd show up," Tapias said with a grin, not breaking from his distractions.
"How could I miss an occasion like this?" de Blas answered on his friend's behalf, deflecting the teasing.
Tapias smirked but persisted, asking pointedly, "So, who are you supporting tonight?"
The room erupted in laughter.
"You just want to provoke me, don't you?" Florentino replied, half amused, half exasperated.
Tapias chuckled. "You can insult me all you like; it won't stop me."
This was the underlying dilemma: should Florentino Pérez support Lorenzo Sanz or Yang Hao?
In recent weeks, Yang Hao had become a polarizing figure in Madrid. Previously dismissed as a brash, attention-seeking upstart by Florentino, the young Chinese coach had since silenced many critics by saving Atlético from relegation and leading them to a Copa del Rey final.
If Yang Hao won this final, he would cement himself as a rising star among Spanish managers. Florentino's initial dismissal of Yang would be ridiculed further.
But if Sanz won, he would ride the wave of a domestic double into the upcoming presidential election, potentially outmaneuvering Florentino altogether.
Caught between a rock and a hard place, Florentino didn't know where his loyalties lay.
"You know, I told you before," Tapias began, breaking Florentino's thoughts. "That Yang Hao kid, while ambitious and a bit reckless, has both vision and ability. I've spoken to him—he's no ordinary guy."
"I know," Florentino admitted, surprising both Tapias and de Blas.
"You know?" Tapias asked, taken aback.
"Yes, but so what?" Florentino shot back. "There are plenty of capable people in this world. That doesn't mean I have to listen to all of them."
The room fell silent at his blunt retort.
"I've already made plans. If I win the election this summer, I'll bring in a world-class manager—Eriksson from Lazio, Wenger from Arsenal, Ferguson from Manchester United, or even Jacquet from France."
Florentino's tone brimmed with confidence as he continued, "Real Madrid is the best club in the world. We deserve the best coaches to lead our team of superstars. That's the standard our history demands!"
A Game of Legacies
As the Copa del Rey final was about to begin, the atmosphere inside the Mestalla was electric.
Yang Hao stood on the touchline, scanning the crowd with a calm intensity. He could feel the weight of history pressing against him.
In the VIP section, the King of Spain, Juan Carlos I—a lifelong Madridista—watched with neutral expressions that barely concealed his true allegiance. Around him, Spain's elite from the worlds of politics, business, and entertainment leaned overwhelmingly toward Real Madrid.
Yet Yang Hao and Atlético Madrid had one thing in their favor: they had nothing to lose.
Real Madrid had everything to prove.
If Yang Hao's Atlético could pull off another upset, it wouldn't just be a victory for the club—it would be a resounding statement that even Europe's "Kings" could fall.
Yang Hao clenched his fists, his mind focused on one goal: "This is our time. Let's make history."
"No matter who wins tonight, it won't affect our plans to transform Real Madrid," Florentino Pérez declared confidently in the VIP box. "I want to work with all of you to turn Real Madrid into the world's most opulent club, brimming with superstars, ready to crush all rivals, win every trophy, and establish a brand-new era of dominance—a Real Madrid dynasty!"
His words ignited a fire in the room.
This was the essence of Real Madrid—a club that exuded grandeur and ambition.
From the days of Santiago Bernabéu to Luis de Carlos and Ramón Mendoza, the club's leadership always embraced this larger-than-life ethos. By contrast, Lorenzo Sanz's management felt small-minded and miserly, incapable of solving the club's financial woes.
Better, then, to let Florentino Pérez take over—a man with a grand vision and the means to realize it.
"Well said!" Fernández Tapias, the wealthy backer of Real Madrid's Ultras Sur fan group, declared loudly. "Real Madrid deserves to hire the best manager in the world. As for that Yang Hao—he's not worthy!"
"Exactly, he's not worthy!" the others in the box echoed in unison.
The Starting Lineups
When Vicente del Bosque received Atlético's starting lineup, he frowned.
Stepping into the stadium and seeing how Atlético's players were positioned on the pitch deepened the lines on his forehead.
Atlético was once again deploying their favored 4-2-3-1 formation, but with a few adjustments:
Goalkeeper: Molina
Defense: Capdevila, Santi Denia, Gamarra, Aguilera
Midfield: Baraja, Bejbl (double pivot), Solari, Valerón, Fresnedoso
Forward: Hasselbaink
Del Bosque recognized this setup. It was the same lineup Atlético had used to stifle Valencia—a strategy that had worked wonders.
"This kid tasted success once and wants to try his luck again," Del Bosque muttered, glancing toward the opposing dugout where Yang Hao stood, cool and composed.
Real Madrid countered with their usual 5-3-2:
Goalkeeper: Casillas
Defense: Roberto Carlos, Campo, Helguera, Karanka, Salgado
Midfield: Savio, Redondo, McManaman
Forwards: Morientes, Raúl
Del Bosque understood Yang Hao's plan. By using Fresnedoso and Aguilera on the right, Yang Hao aimed to neutralize Real Madrid's left side—the partnership of Roberto Carlos and Savio, with Raúl often drifting to support.
If necessary, Bejbl could drop deeper to form a back three, reinforcing Atlético's defense.
"This could be tricky," Del Bosque admitted as he turned to his assistant, Toni Grande.
"He's planning to drag us into a war of attrition," Grande analyzed.
Del Bosque nodded. If he were in Yang Hao's shoes, he'd do the same.
After winning their second Champions League title in three years and their eighth overall, Real Madrid's players were riding high. But that euphoria carried risks—overconfidence, fatigue, and complacency.
Del Bosque knew they had to strike early, before their energy reserves began to dwindle.
But Atlético had clearly come prepared.
At this point, there was nothing left for Del Bosque to do but wait and watch as the match began.
The Match Begins
With the referee's whistle, the Copa del Rey final was underway.
Atlético kicked off with an aggressive intent, immediately pressing high. After playing the ball back to their defenders, Santi Denia launched a long pass forward, targeting Hasselbaink. The Dutch striker battled Helguera for position but couldn't win the aerial duel.
Atlético then shifted into a high-press system, not necessarily to regain possession but to prevent Real Madrid from slowing the game's pace.
Whenever Real Madrid moved the ball to the left, where Roberto Carlos was stationed near the halfway line, Atlético ramped up their pressure. Fresnedoso and Aguilera led the charge, with Baraja and Valerón quickly closing in to form a compact wall, leaving Carlos with few options.
Carlos passed to Savio, but the Brazilian winger found himself cornered by Aguilera and forced the ball out of play.
When Carlos prepared to take the throw-in, he was surrounded by Atlético players. Every potential target was tightly marked.
Carlos moved along the sideline, looking for a free teammate, but no one was available.
It was clear to everyone watching: Atlético had come out swinging, ready to fight tooth and nail.
The Chess Match
From the opening minutes, it was evident that Atlético had no intention of sitting back.
Yang Hao's strategy was simple: disrupt Real Madrid's rhythm and force them into mistakes.
Real Madrid, for their part, struggled to find their usual fluidity. Morientes and Raúl dropped deeper to help with the build-up, but Atlético's defensive lines were disciplined, leaving little room to maneuver.
Both teams knew that the first goal would be crucial.
Atlético's aggressive press was taxing on their players, but it served its purpose: to unsettle Real Madrid and keep them from settling into their preferred tempo.
In the stands, the tension was palpable.
"Looks like Yang Hao's really done his homework," Toni Grande remarked to Del Bosque.
Del Bosque didn't respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the field.
"It's too early to tell," he said finally. "But we need to find a way to break through before halftime."
On the pitch, the battle continued.
For Yang Hao, this was exactly the type of match he had envisioned. If his team could maintain their intensity and capitalize on Real Madrid's fatigue, the tide might just turn in Atlético's favor.
"We'll see who cracks first," Yang Hao thought, a determined look in his eyes.
Yang Hao stood at the edge of the visitor's technical area, eyes locked on the field. After two weeks of meticulous preparation, Atlético Madrid had started the game well.
Real Madrid's attacking strategy revolved around their wings, but Atlético's defensive blockades on both flanks were airtight.
Neither Roberto Carlos and Savio on the left nor Salgado and McManaman on the right managed to break through Atlético's organized defense.
It wasn't until the 12th minute that McManaman finally attempted a rushed long-range shot from outside the box. The English midfielder, perhaps inspired by his Champions League final goal, tried to recreate the magic. But such strikes are rare and unpredictable, and this time it sailed harmlessly wide.
Meanwhile, Atlético had yet to muster a single shot. Their attacks broke down near the final third, where Real Madrid's defense, especially Fernando Redondo, had locked down Valerón with precision marking.
Yang Hao knew this was an issue with Atlético's squad composition.
The team lacked speed and physicality, and while their technical skills were decent, they weren't exceptional. Players like Solari, Aguilera, and Capdevila couldn't exploit open spaces effectively due to their lack of pace.
Hasselbaink, though solid in physical duels and decently quick, stood at only 1.78m, giving away at least 7 centimeters to Real Madrid's central defenders, all of whom were 1.85m or taller. It was a testament to his tenacity that Hasselbaink wasn't outmuscled, but asking him to dominate in the air was unrealistic.
Hasselbaink's real strength lay in his explosive runs, but Real Madrid's defense—anchored by a back three—rarely gave him room to exploit.
The situation wasn't much better for Real Madrid.
While Morientes held a clear height and strength advantage over Atlético's fragile backline, Real Madrid's midfield and wing attacks were equally stifled. Morientes rarely received quality service, and Raúl, often his closest support, found himself isolated as well.
Around the 20th minute, Del Bosque instructed his team to attempt more long balls toward Morientes. However, Atlético had anticipated this and deployed their numerical advantage to contest second balls effectively.
The match, a defensive stalemate, lacked excitement.
Muted Reactions from the Stands
"Finals are often uninspiring matches."
"Tonight's Madrid Derby has been a letdown so far."
"Thirty minutes into the first half, and neither side seems willing to take risks, prioritizing defense over attack."
"Even Real Madrid, fresh off their Champions League victory, are reluctant to commit numbers forward."
"It's clear that Atlético have learned from Valencia's mistakes in Paris. They're unwilling to take chances offensively."
"Would you believe it? Yang Hao's team hasn't even managed a single shot yet."
"Could it be that he's aiming to drag this into a penalty shootout?"
"I heard he's been specifically practicing penalties," Real Madrid assistant coach Toni Grande remarked to Del Bosque as they sat in the dugout.
Del Bosque, with his distinct Mediterranean bald patch and long remaining hair, looked thoughtful—almost like a mad scientist. His eyes stayed fixed on the field, analyzing the game.
"A penalty shootout?" Del Bosque murmured, shaking his head.
No, if the match went to extra time, Real Madrid would be at a significant disadvantage.
The squad lacked depth, and Del Bosque had spent the season fine-tuning a stable starting XI. This was their third high-intensity game in a week. Extending this match into extra time could be disastrous for their exhausted players.
Yang Hao had clearly planned for this scenario. From the opening whistle, Atlético pressed aggressively, forcing Real Madrid to play faster and expend more energy. The game was physical, but also frustratingly uneventful.
Yang Hao's strategy was transparent: drag Real Madrid into a tactical quagmire and exploit Atlético's superior stamina to clinch victory.
To counter this, Del Bosque knew he needed to break the deadlock.
But breaking the deadlock meant pushing forward, which would expose Real Madrid to counterattacks.
Del Bosque hesitated, weighing the risks.
When he glanced at the clock and saw 35 minutes had passed, he closed his eyes briefly. When he reopened them, there was a glint of determination.
Walking to the sideline, Del Bosque signaled Redondo with a decisive hand gesture: push forward.
"For the last ten minutes of this half, we attack!"
"Here They Come!"
Yang Hao saw Del Bosque's signal and muttered under his breath, "I knew it."
He stepped to the touchline, motioning for his players to stay focused. Real Madrid was about to shift gears.
"Juan, drop deeper," he instructed Bejbl.
"Rubén, cover the backline," he added to Baraja.
The tension on the field rose as Real Madrid began to probe Atlético's defense with more intent.
Redondo stepped up into a more advanced role, orchestrating the midfield with precise passes. McManaman drifted inward, combining with Raúl to create openings, while Roberto Carlos pushed higher up the left flank.
Real Madrid's pressure intensified, pinning Atlético back into their defensive third.
"Hold the line!" Yang Hao shouted from the sideline, his voice cutting through the noise of the stadium.
Atlético's defenders scrambled to close down space, throwing themselves into tackles and blocking crosses.
Real Madrid's best chance came in the 42nd minute when Morientes rose to meet a cross from Savio. His powerful header was on target, but Molina, Atlético's goalkeeper, reacted brilliantly, diving low to his right to palm the ball away.
The save drew a roar of approval from Atlético's fans and a rare clenched fist from Yang Hao.
As the referee blew the whistle for halftime, the score remained 0-0.
"Keep Up the Pressure!"
In the locker room, Yang Hao's voice was firm but calm.
"They've made their move. We knew this would happen."
The players listened intently as Yang Hao outlined his plan for the second half.
"Keep frustrating them. They're running out of steam. When the opportunity comes, we strike."
His message was clear: patience, discipline, and precision.
"This title? It's ours. Let's bring it home!"
Yang Hao reminded his players on the pitch while tightly clutching his chest in suspense.
Feeling uneasy, he stepped closer to the touchline and called out to Santi Denia, "Santi, keep a close eye on Moro."
Moro, of course, referred to Morientes.
That towering striker posed a significant threat to Atlético's defensive line.
Whenever Yang Hao faced a towering forward, he couldn't help but silently curse the "geniuses" who assembled his squad. He wanted to grab their heads and ask, "What made you think it was a good idea to field a lineup of center-backs who are barely 1.8 meters tall?"
Take Santi Denia, for instance. He was exactly 1.8 meters tall, while Morientes stood at 1.86 meters. A six-centimeter difference didn't sound huge on paper.
But the real issue wasn't just height; it was the strength and physical advantage that came with it. These were innate advantages that training couldn't make up for.
In situations like these, the best defensive strategy was front-footed marking while cutting off the opponent's supply of high balls into the box.
Valencia's defense in the Champions League final collapsed when Morientes exploited a poorly executed front-footed defense and scored with a header off a perfectly timed cross behind the line.
Atlético had studied this and knew the key was to suppress Real Madrid's delivery from wide areas.
"Stay sharp, and hold this wave!" Yang Hao shouted loudly from the sidelines.
This moment felt like a litmus test for the match.
When Real Madrid ramped up their attack, their two fullbacks pressed high up the pitch, while midfielders McManaman and Savio surged forward, forming a six-man offensive block.
With their players' exceptional individual skills and fluid teamwork, Real Madrid's attack posed significant threats.
McManaman and Savio, versatile players who could operate centrally or on the wings, were complemented by Roberto Carlos and Salgado, who both had the pace to stretch defenses. Add Morientes, a physical striker capable of bullying center-backs, and Raúl, with his clever positioning and technical finesse, and Real Madrid's offensive arsenal was formidable.
However, Atlético's defensive plan was crystal clear: avoid winning the ball at all costs; instead, isolate and confine Madrid to the flanks.
This strategy was rooted in their La Liga encounters.
In their first league clash, under Toshack's tenure, Atlético won 3-1 at the Bernabéu. Morientes had scored Madrid's sole goal, assisted by Roberto Carlos.
In the second matchup, after Del Bosque took over, the match ended in a 1-1 draw. Again, it was Morientes who scored, this time assisted by Salgado.
These matches underscored the potency of Madrid's wing play.
Yang Hao's resolve was unwavering: ridicule him for being defensive, mock his perceived lack of ambition—he didn't care. This title was his, and not even Jesus could take it away.
Atlético hadn't managed a single shot in over 30 minutes, but that was irrelevant. As long as they held their defensive ground, wore down Madrid's stamina, and exploited their opportunity, victory would be theirs.
Yang Hao had instilled this belief in his players before the match.
Madrid's left flank, led by Carlos and Savio, began to intensify their pressure, putting immense strain on Atlético's right side.
In the 41st minute, Carlos made a surging overlap, receiving a pass from Savio and charging past Aguilera. He whipped a cross toward the near post, where Morientes met it with a header aimed at the far corner.
The ball skimmed past the post.
Atlético's goalmouth became a scene of chaos and close calls.
Yang Hao urgently gestured to Gamarra to stay tight on Morientes and instructed Bejbl to drop deeper to assist in marking Madrid's towering forward.
But as Atlético concentrated their forces on defending the left side, Redondo, Madrid's midfield maestro, switched play with a diagonal pass to the right.
Salgado sprinted down the right wing unopposed. Solari rushed to close him down, but Salgado calmly passed inside to McManaman in the half-space.
McManaman looked to play a quick through ball to Raúl, but Baraja darted back into position, forcing the Englishman's pass off target.
Santi Denia was first to the loose ball and cleared it toward the left flank.
Madrid immediately pressed to win back possession, but Capdevila got there first, sending a pass down the line to Solari.
The Argentine winger, without breaking stride, turned and chased the ball. He noticed his brother-in-law, Redondo, rushing to intercept and deftly poked the ball forward before accelerating past him.
Redondo gave chase, positioning himself to block Solari's inside path.
Madrid's defenders also retreated quickly. Karanka shadowed Redondo, ready to provide cover, while Helguera kept close to Hasselbaink, and Campo guarded the far post.
Madrid's defense quickly reassembled a 4v2 advantage.
As Solari reached the edge of Madrid's defensive third, he glanced up and spotted Hasselbaink making a run. Without hesitation, Solari delivered a diagonal through ball.
Redondo stretched his leg to intercept, but the ball arced over him and landed near the edge of the penalty area.
Karanka was out of position to block it, leaving Hasselbaink in a footrace with Helguera.
The Dutch striker powered forward, using his strength to hold off Helguera, and reached the ball just inside the box. He controlled it with his first touch, setting up a shooting opportunity.
However, his second touch was slightly heavy, allowing Casillas to charge off his line.
Hasselbaink lunged for the ball with a sliding shot, but Casillas smothered it with a low, brave save.
The entire stadium echoed with groans from Atlético's fans and sighs of relief from Madrid's supporters.
This was Atlético's first shot of the match, coming in the 43rd minute.
"It's alright, Jimmy. I know you've done your best," Yang Hao said as the first half ended in a 0–0 draw. He stood by the sideline to greet the Atlético players as they walked off the field.
He made a point to comfort Hasselbaink, who had missed a golden opportunity right before halftime.
"Trust me, we'll have more chances in the second half. Keep pushing!" Yang Hao encouraged, and Hasselbaink nodded firmly, his spirits somewhat lifted.
Yang Hao stayed by the touchline a little longer, observing Real Madrid's players as they headed to the tunnel.
It was clear that many of them were breathing heavily, their energy visibly drained.
Even in that last counterattack by Atlético, McManaman barely tracked back, and Salgado's recovery pace was sluggish.
These small details spoke volumes: Real Madrid was burning through their stamina.
"They're starting to struggle physically," assistant coach Juanma Lillo noted, echoing Yang Hao's thoughts. "But if I were Del Bosque, I'd push for a goal early in the second half. Dragging this out will only hurt Real Madrid."
Yang Hao nodded in agreement. Del Bosque would almost certainly launch another offensive wave. Prolonging the match would be to Atlético's advantage, but Real Madrid couldn't afford it.
Despite his unassuming demeanor, Del Bosque was no fool.
Back in the locker room, Yang Hao quickly gathered his players.
He started by reviewing some of the issues that had arisen in the first half, particularly focusing on Real Madrid's dangerous left flank.
While modern fans might not remember Savio vividly, in this era, the Brazilian winger was one of the hottest properties in European football. Chelsea was reportedly willing to pay a staggering £20 million to sign him, which demonstrated his value.
Years ago, when Real Madrid lost out on Denílson to Real Betis in a record-breaking transfer, they turned to Savio, signing him from Flamengo as a consolation prize.
Unlike Denílson, whose career floundered at Betis, Savio flourished at Madrid, forming a lethal partnership on the left wing with Roberto Carlos.
Even under Del Bosque's five-defender system, Savio retained his role. When Madrid played with three forwards, Savio was benched. But in the two-striker formation, he was a lock on the left side, complementing Carlos's overlapping runs.
This left flank was Real Madrid's primary attacking outlet, earning respect and fear across Europe.
In the first half, Atlético had thrown significant defensive resources at this side, and while Madrid still created a few chances, the threat from their left wing was largely contained.
Yang Hao was certain that if Real Madrid were to break through, it would likely come from the left flank.
"Rubén, Roberto," Yang Hao called out Baraja and Fresnedoso, who were tasked with right-sided defensive duties.
"Savio likes to hold onto the ball. In the second half, I want you to apply more pressure on him. Be physical, but stay within the rules. Do you understand me?" Yang Hao asked.
The two nodded, fully grasping their coach's intent.
Though Savio was a skillful Brazilian winger, his physicality was not his strong suit. Yang Hao's instructions were clear: use small, subtle fouls to disrupt him, but don't push it too far.
"Juan," Yang Hao turned to Belelón.
Belelón took a deep breath and nodded. "I understand, boss. I wasn't at my best in the first half."
He had been tightly marked by Redondo, whose defensive skills and aggressive playstyle made him a nightmare to shake off.
"I know you've been doing your best, but let me remind you: keep moving, stay away from Redondo's zone, and look for space. Pass quickly—don't linger on the ball too long."
Yang Hao had pointed out this weakness in Belelón's game many times. Like many traditional playmakers, Belelón had a habit of dwelling on the ball, preferring to dictate play at his own pace.
But old habits die hard. Changing one's playing style wasn't easy.
"I trust you, Juan. Keep it up!" Yang Hao said, placing a hand on Belelón's shoulder to encourage him.
After addressing individual players, Yang Hao clapped his hands to grab everyone's attention.
"Listen, everyone."
He stood in the center of the locker room, making eye contact with each player.
"This is the last game of the season."
"I know that after tonight, many of you will leave this team. That's okay. I sincerely hope you find success wherever you go."
"But I want you to think about this: in this final game, are you willing to leave a lasting mark on Atlético? To give something back to the club you've fought for?"
"We've already accomplished the miracle of survival. The world has praised you for it. But are you satisfied with just that?
"The Copa del Rey is right in front of us. You're just 45 minutes away from lifting that trophy."
"I believe in each and every one of you. You're some of the best players in the world. If you want it, you can make it happen."
"Give it everything you've got for these final 45 minutes. Win this title. Engrave your names in Atlético's history. That's a glory that will stay with you for the rest of your lives!"
Finally, Yang Hao's voice rose to a crescendo:
"Now, let's go back out there and crush Real Madrid!"
One by one, the players stepped forward, placing their hands on Yang Hao's. Together, they roared in unison:
"Crush Real Madrid!!"
"The second half has begun."
"We can see that Real Madrid has come out with an aggressive stance right from the start."
"Even their positioning seems to have adjusted."
"Savio and McManaman are leaning heavily toward the flanks, a clear signal that they're doubling down on wing attacks. Raúl is also active on the left side."
"Additionally, we can see that Campo has pushed further up the field."
"This player is a versatile asset, capable of playing as a deep-lying midfielder or as a center-back."
"We've also noticed that Anelka, Guti, and Karembeu are warming up on the sidelines, ready to come on at any moment."
Yang Hao turned his head, glancing at Real Madrid's substitutes. Spotting the unmistakable presence of Karembeu, his thoughts briefly wandered.
Hmm, his wife is gorgeous.
A classic beauty-and-the-beast pairing.
But he quickly snapped back to reality, focusing on deciphering Del Bosque's intentions.
"He's preparing to intensify the attack," Yang Hao murmured to his assistant.
Juanma Lillo nodded. "He's determined to score the first goal."
"Then let's give him a lesson!" Yang Hao said firmly.
He had full confidence in Atlético's right-side defense. The trio of Fresnedoso, Aguilera, and Baraja had done a commendable job in the first half, effectively neutralizing Madrid's left-wing offense.
Yang Hao strode to the sideline and gestured to Baraja, signaling him to focus on defending the right flank, especially against Savio. He emphasized adding physicality when necessary and even committing fouls if the situation called for it.
Moreover, once possession was regained, they were to launch counterattacks immediately.
If Real Madrid was intent on pushing forward, they would inevitably expose gaps in their defense.
Baraja had long lost count of how many relegation battles he had experienced.
At 18, he had made his La Liga debut for Valladolid.
He still remembered it vividly—matchday three against Sevilla, playing the full 90 minutes and even scoring a goal.
Everyone thought he had a bright future ahead of him.
Scoring on your debut, as a right-sided player no less, was undeniably eye-catching.
But that season, Valladolid spent the entire time battling relegation, ultimately finishing 18th and only surviving after defeating Rayo Vallecano in the relegation playoffs.
In his second season, the 1994/95 campaign, Valladolid finished 19th, failing even to secure a playoff spot. However, in a stroke of bizarre fortune, La Liga expanded to 22 teams for the 1995/96 season, meaning only the last-placed team was relegated. Thus, Valladolid miraculously stayed up.
When Atlético won the double in 1996, Baraja had established himself as a starter at Valladolid. Yet, once again, the team was embroiled in another relegation battle.
Thanks to his stellar performances at Valladolid, Baraja earned a move to Atlético, the reigning double winners.
But breaking into a star-studded Atlético team as a young player proved to be an uphill battle.
For his first two seasons, he played mostly with the B team in the Segunda División, until Sacchi eventually promoted him to the first team.
By then, he was already 23.
Sacchi, a tactically demanding coach, valued players with high tactical discipline and utilized Baraja as a utility player. But that season, Atlético was once again fighting relegation.
This season, under the management of the highly regarded Claudio Ranieri, Baraja finally seemed to have carved out a starting role for himself. Yet, to everyone's shock, Atlético was once again in a relegation battle.
Year after year, Baraja found himself stuck in a perpetual loop of survival struggles.
Every La Liga season he had played ended in a fight to stay up.
He couldn't understand why. Just as he couldn't understand why he struggled for minutes at Atlético.
Confusion, self-doubt, and anxiety consumed him.
At just 25, Baraja felt like he was hitting a career crisis, weighed down by an overwhelming sense of mediocrity.
This mental turmoil eventually saw him relegated to the bench, a substitute among substitutes.
Then Yang Hao arrived.
Yang Hao, also 25, had stepped in as Atlético's head coach.
Baraja desperately craved an opportunity to play, just as his body craved oxygen. So he was the first to pledge his commitment to the new coach.
"Give me a chance, and I'll fight for you!"
Yang Hao not only gave him chances but also placed unwavering trust in him.
Since Yang Hao's appointment, Baraja had become one of the most utilized players in the squad, an indispensable part of the team.
His performances improved significantly, especially his goalscoring. His resurgence even caught the attention of top La Liga clubs, eager to rescue him from his relegation woes.
It was tempting, but Baraja hadn't made a decision yet.
For now, he was focused solely on the Copa del Rey final. He had promised Yang Hao that he would give everything for him in this match.
So when the instructions came to press Savio, Baraja wasted no time.
The moment he saw Savio receive the ball and attempt to accelerate, Baraja closed in.
With calculated physicality, he gave the Brazilian a subtle shove from the side—not too hard, not too soft.
Savio stumbled, looking as though he had simply lost his balance. Baraja swiftly stepped between the ball and the Brazilian, muscling him off completely.
Savio fell to the ground, but Baraja successfully regained possession.
The referee let play continue.
"Baraja successfully intercepts the ball!"
"Real Madrid players are protesting for a foul, but the referee doesn't blow his whistle."
"Let's see this counterattack from Atlético."
"Baraja advances quickly and passes to Valerón."
"Valerón controls it in open space and delivers another pass forward."
"What a beautiful through ball!!!"
"It's sent to the right side of the penalty area."
"Hasselbaink charges forward, uses his body to shield off Helguera, and takes a powerful shot!!"
"The ball is in!!!"
"GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!"
"Atlético! Atlético!!"
"In the 53rd minute, after a midfield interception, Atlético launches a lightning-fast counterattack. Hasselbaink delivers a thunderous strike to break Real Madrid's defense."
"1-0!!!"
"Oh my goodness, Valerón's through ball was absolutely exquisite, like a surgeon's scalpel cutting through the defense!"
"Let's take another look at the replay."
"During Baraja's interception, there were indeed some hand movements, but they were subtle and not obvious."
"When Savio lost balance and possession, the referee likely didn't catch it."
"And look at Valerón's through pass—surrounded by four defenders, yet it sliced through two defensive lines perfectly."
"Hasselbaink kept his composure and executed from his favorite shooting spot—the right side of the box!"
As the stadium erupted with wild cheers from Atlético fans, the players celebrated in a frenzy.
Yang Hao, standing on the sidelines, cheered loudly, reveling in his team's brilliant execution.
This goal had been so hard-earned!
Who could have imagined it? This was only Atlético's second shot of the entire match.
Just thinking about it filled Yang Hao with uncontainable joy.
They had scored! Finally!
The urge to shout to the heavens overwhelmed him. He knew exactly how much this goal meant.
But he quickly composed himself. Now was not the time for celebrations.
The next wave from Real Madrid would be even more ferocious. Del Bosque would surely throw everything at them now!
Yang Hao immediately moved to the sideline, gesturing frantically for his players to return to their positions.
"Ruben, brilliant work!" Yang Hao embraced Baraja.
Baraja, feeling the trust from his coach, was deeply moved.
"Juan, that through ball was a masterpiece. I'm so proud of you."
"Thank you, boss," Valerón replied with a modest smile.
"Jimmy, keep it up," Yang Hao encouraged Hasselbaink.
Quickly turning serious, Yang Hao addressed the team.
"Real Madrid's counterattack will come soon. Everyone needs to prepare mentally and stay sharp. We must defend this lead, no matter what. Understood?"
"Yes!"
"Also, don't just sit back and defend. That's not our style, and it's not smart. When there's a chance, hit them with counterattacks. Be decisive, be quick, and make them hurt!"
"Got it!"
As Atlético players returned to the pitch, the game resumed.
Del Bosque didn't waste any time. He made a substitution, bringing on Guti for Savio and switching to a 5-2-1-2 formation.
This was the same starting tactic Real Madrid had used in their Champions League final against Valencia.
Del Bosque's intention was clear—bolster the attack while keeping the defense stable.
With Guti on the pitch as an attacking midfielder, Raúl and Morientes formed a lethal strike partnership ahead of him.
This trio was Spain's golden offensive trident.
Yang Hao reacted immediately, signaling Fresnedoso and Solari to drop deeper and support the double-pivot midfield, forming a second defensive line.
Guti was no ordinary player. Many remembered him for his flashy, sometimes inconsistent passes, but at this stage in his career, Guti was a potent attacking force.
In La Liga that season, he had scored six goals and provided three assists. In the Champions League, he added one goal and four assists to his tally.
The following season, Guti would score 14 league goals, matching the number on his back and earning the nickname "14 King" among Real Madrid fans.
With Real Madrid pressing forward, their fullbacks surged higher up the pitch, practically playing as wingers. The 5-2-1-2 shifted into a 3-4-1-2, with Carlos on the left often pushing even further.
This instantly showcased Real Madrid's immense quality.
It wasn't that their stars lacked ability; it was Del Bosque's conservative tactics that had held them back.
Atlético, on the other hand, committed to a full defensive posture. They set up camp just beyond the halfway line, firmly holding their ground.
Now, with Guti orchestrating the central attack and the flanks still buzzing, Real Madrid's offense became far more dynamic, posing greater threats to Atlético's defense.
The pressure mounted. Atlético's penalty area was a battlefield.
Several times, Real Madrid tried to feed the ball into the box, aiming for Morientes, but Atlético's resolute defense held firm. The wide defenders, in particular, performed with remarkable tenacity, fending off wave after wave of attacks.
The game began to heat up as tensions rose on both sides.
In the 64th minute, Salgado attempted a flank attack, trying to link up with Morientes in the half-space, only to be thwarted by Bejbl.
Guti protested vehemently to the referee, claiming Bejbl had committed a foul. The Czech player defended himself, leading to an intense argument. The heated exchange quickly escalated, with players from both teams gathering, creating a chaotic scene that the referee struggled to control.
Eventually, the official calmed things down, issuing yellow cards to both Guti and Bejbl before resuming play. This brief scuffle underscored the intensity of the match.
Yang Hao responded immediately, substituting Bejbl, who now had a yellow card, with Pablo García to avoid further risks.
Real Madrid tried to exploit the brief instability in Atlético's formation during the substitution to launch a fierce attack.
Then, in the 71st minute, another pivotal moment unfolded.
Atlético's Fresnedoso and Aguilera combined to pressure Roberto Carlos, pinning the Brazilian left-back to the sideline and successfully stealing the ball. The ball was passed to Baraja, who looked up and delivered a pinpoint lofted pass over the top.
At that moment, Hasselbaink had drawn Helguera and Campo to Atlético's right side, leaving a gaping hole in the center. Valerón seized the opportunity, making a late run into the exposed space between Helguera and Karanka, heading straight for the penalty area.
Baraja's pass landed perfectly ahead of Valerón. The Spanish midfielder didn't slow down to control the ball in mid-air. Instead, he anticipated the ball's drop, timing his movement perfectly. As the ball touched the ground, he calmly controlled it with a touch so smooth it seemed more like guiding it than stopping it.
With the ball rolling obediently along the trajectory Valerón had set, Iker Casillas made a bold decision to rush out from his goal. But halfway through his charge, the young keeper realized he was too late.
Valerón reached the ball and executed a delicate chip, lifting it over the onrushing Casillas. The ball floated gracefully toward the empty Real Madrid net.
Valerón turned and sprinted toward the section packed with Atlético fans, celebrating wildly.
Behind him, the ball, as if cradled by unseen hands, crossed the goal line and nestled gently into the net.
The referee's whistle confirmed the goal.
"GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!"
The Mestalla Stadium erupted as Atlético fans roared with unbridled joy.
Thousands of voices screamed in elation, their passion echoing through the night.
Valerón, Hasselbaink, Baraja, Solari, and their teammates rushed to the sideline, celebrating Atlético's second goal of the night.
2-0!
Television cameras panned to Real Madrid fans in the stands, their faces frozen in disbelief. Shock and incredulity washed over them as they struggled to accept the unfolding reality: the mighty European champions were losing to a team that had only narrowly avoided relegation a month ago.
It seemed impossible.
But the cold, unyielding scoreboard left no room for doubt. This was real.
In the luxury box at the Mestalla, Florentino Pérez and his entourage were just as stunned.
Two goals down, Real Madrid launched into a frenzied attack.
Del Bosque appeared increasingly desperate, throwing caution to the wind.
Meanwhile, Atlético switched to a defensive strategy. In the 80th minute, Yang Hao substituted Valerón with Gaspar, adopting a 4-5-1 formation with three defensive midfielders. Aguilera was pushed into the midfield, effectively cutting off any hope Real Madrid had of a comeback.
As the minutes ticked away, Real Madrid players, drained of energy, began making more and more mistakes.
"I can't believe it—he actually did it!" muttered De Blas, still struggling to process what he was witnessing.
He had met Yang Hao a couple of times and had never imagined the young coach could lead a team to defeat Real Madrid. This wasn't just any Real Madrid—they were this season's Champions League winners!
And Atlético? Just over a month ago, they had been universally dismissed as a team destined for relegation.
Who could have predicted that under Yang Hao's leadership, Atlético would not only secure survival but also defeat Real Madrid to claim the Copa del Rey?
"It's unimaginable. How on earth did he do it?" wondered Fernández Tapias, equally astonished.
Though they were Real Madrid supporters, they couldn't help but marvel at Yang Hao's achievement.
Florentino, however, remained unmoved.
Now in the prime of his ambitious career, the Real Madrid president-in-waiting was resolute in his belief that his Galácticos strategy would bring about a new era of glory, pulling the club out of debt and onto even greater heights.
To him, tonight's outcome didn't matter.
Because, in the end, victory would still belong to him.
"You'll see. This will be Atlético's last hurrah," Florentino said, his voice laced with unshakable confidence.
It was a statement of judgment.
"This summer, that team will collapse completely. Ten, maybe even more than a dozen players will leave. Combine that with their massive debts, and they won't survive long."
He paused, then let out a cold chuckle, exuding an air of supreme arrogance.
"In fact, I almost hope Yang Hao stays at Atlético a little longer so I can personally show him next season who's truly in the right."
The room fell silent. Florentino's words were filled with a steely determination that sent shivers down the spines of those who knew him well.
De Blas and Tapias exchanged glances, recognizing the fierce resolve of the man who had clawed his way to the top of the business world. Florentino Pérez was no stranger to crushing his opposition.
"Just wait. Everything Sanz loses tonight—I'll recover it all, with interest!"
As the match approached its final moments, Yang Hao grew increasingly calm.
It was a strange sensation.
He had imagined himself losing control, jumping in ecstatic celebration. But when the final whistle blew, he found his heart filled with a deep sense of satisfaction and accomplishment instead.
From the sidelines, Yang Hao watched as many Atlético players collapsed to the ground, some kneeling, others lying face down on the turf, overcome with tears.
Even a tough player like Baraja fell to his knees, raising his arms and shouting toward the sky, resembling the iconic Shawshank Redemption poster.
Only those who had experienced Atlético's turbulent and chaotic recent seasons could understand the emotions of these players at that moment.
For them, this wasn't just a victory—it was a rebirth.
Yang Hao distinctly heard Baraja's anguished cries echoing through the stadium.
In Yang Hao's memory, the only other time he had seen Baraja cry was after Spain's heartbreaking exit against South Korea in the 2002 World Cup. That time, Baraja's tears had been filled with sorrow, regret, and guilt.
But tonight's tears were different—tears of joy.
Santy Denia, Aguilera, and others were visibly emotional. Valerón stood stock still, wiping his face repeatedly, clearly crying as well.
The match had stopped with the whistle, but for Atlético's players, emotions had surged to a breaking point.
They were champions.
Just over a month ago, who could have imagined this team—predicted by everyone to be relegated—would not only secure survival but also claim the Copa del Rey?
For giants like Real Madrid or Barcelona, the Copa del Rey might be a consolation prize, but for Atlético, especially this season, it was an invaluable treasure.
To these players, this was more than just a trophy.
Yang Hao slowly walked onto the field.
Raúl, standing nearby, gave him a light pat on the shoulder. The two had met once before at a Real Madrid fan event, never imagining they'd one day face each other as rivals.
Yang Hao nodded at Raúl before heading directly toward his players.
"Well done, Juan!" Yang Hao said, patting Valerón on the cheek before pulling him into a hug.
Hearing those words, Valerón could no longer hold back. He squatted down and broke into tears.
Before Yang Hao took charge of Atlético, Valerón had struggled to earn recognition. His performances had been unremarkable.
But in the past month, he had found his rhythm, delivering increasingly outstanding performances.
Even tonight, facing world-class defensive midfielder Redondo, Valerón had registered a goal and an assist. What better way to prove his worth?
After comforting Valerón, Yang Hao approached Baraja.
"Hey, Rubén, come on, stand up," Yang Hao said, trying to pull him up, but Baraja didn't budge.
"Boss..."
Yang Hao crouched down to meet Baraja's gaze.
Tears filled Baraja's eyes, and when he looked at Yang Hao, his face was heavy with shame and sorrow.
"I don't want to fight relegation anymore! I don't want to fight relegation anymore! I really don't want to fight relegation anymore!"
He repeated it three times, and each time, Yang Hao felt the anguish and torment in Baraja's heart.
"This is your first career trophy, isn't it?" Yang Hao placed both hands on Baraja's shoulders as if to transfer strength and courage to him.
"Yes… I've never won anything before," Baraja sobbed.
Baraja had joined Atlético in 1996, during their double-winning season. But in that year's Supercopa, Atlético were trounced by Barcelona over two legs.
Since then, the club hadn't won a single trophy.
Yang Hao could imagine Baraja's initial hope when he joined the double-winning Atlético. He must have dreamed of making his mark on a championship-winning team. Instead, he had been relegated to the reserves.
When he finally clawed his way back, the club's fortunes had plummeted, leaving him stuck in year after year of relegation battles.
"I debuted at 18, and every season since then, I've been fighting relegation. It's become a nightmare. I really, really don't want to do this anymore."
Recently, Baraja had told Yang Hao he'd received offers from several clubs, including Valencia, but hadn't made a decision yet.
Yang Hao could guess why. After four years at Atlético, Baraja had watched the club fall from grace, from double-winners to a relegation-threatened team. He felt torn—unwilling to leave yet afraid to stay.
"Don't think about it too much right now. Enjoy this moment and savor the joy of being a champion," Yang Hao said reassuringly.
"Take some time—whether it's tomorrow or later—when you're calm, and then decide. Do you want to stay, or do you want to leave?"
"I can't promise you anything," Yang Hao admitted honestly. "But I can make one commitment: as long as I'm Atlético's head coach, we won't fight relegation again. We'll fight for championships!"
"And if you do decide to leave, I'll wish you all the best. Rubén, I truly believe you're one of the best midfielders in Europe. No matter where you go, remember my words: have confidence in yourself."
Baraja lifted his head sharply, staring at Yang Hao in disbelief.
He saw trust in Yang Hao's eyes—a belief that made Baraja's heart surge with emotion.
"Father, you saw that, didn't you? I wasn't wrong," Miguel Gil said, pointing toward the pitch where Yang Hao was comforting his players. The sound of Atlético fans' cheers and fireworks filled the air around them.
Jesús Gil's aged eyes were already glistening with tears.
For over a decade, Jesús Gil had poured an immense fortune into Atlético Madrid, bringing in star players and renowned coaches. Yet, during his tenure, the club had secured only four trophies: one La Liga title and three Copa del Rey titles.
Tonight, they claimed their fifth.
At this moment, Jesús Gil had to admit—he had underestimated Yang Hao. Completely.
Over the past few weeks, as the team had gone on its winning streak, the thought had nagged at him: Am I falling behind the times?
Tonight solidified it.
He was 67 years old now.
"You were right, Miguel," Jesús Gil sighed deeply, his tone a mix of regret and relief.
Miguel Gil felt a surge of joy, while even Enrique Cerezo looked visibly moved.
They both understood what it meant for someone as strong-willed as Jesús Gil to admit this.
"From now on, I will step down from the club's management."
Jesús Gil's voice was firm and decisive. "Enrique, you will take over as club president. Miguel will remain as general manager and oversee the club's reforms and the team's restructuring."
With those words, the power transition at Atlético Madrid was complete. The Jesús Gil era had officially ended.
Paulo Futre, standing nearby, was stunned by the abruptness of the announcement.
Who would've thought Jesús Gil would relinquish control so cleanly?
Miguel Gil and Enrique Cerezo exchanged glances, a hint of shared satisfaction on their faces.
They had agreed on this beforehand.
"And about Yang Hao, the matter I discussed with you before…"
"I said it already: if the team avoided relegation and won the Copa del Rey, I would agree. I'm keeping my promise."
Jesús Gil paused, his expression contemplative.
"When I first built my real estate business from scratch, my success wasn't because I was particularly capable, but because I was good at leveraging the talents of my partners and associates."
"If someone could help me make more money or achieve greater success, I didn't mind sharing equity—or even giving them control of the company. That's the mark of a smart person."
Before stepping back, Jesús Gil felt the need to impart one final lesson to his son.
He had been a legend in Spain's real estate industry. Of course, the murky details of his early days—the gray areas and secrets—were not something to be spoken of openly.
"Miguel." Jesús Gil locked eyes with his son.
He had noticed that lately, Miguel was more confident in voicing his own ideas, even challenging his father.
This was a good sign.
"Since you've decided that Yang Hao is a talent worth trusting, I will support your decision. I won't interfere in how you negotiate with him. But let me warn you: if, under your leadership, this club doesn't improve, don't be surprised when I come back."
It was clear Jesús Gil was leaving himself a way back: he could return at any time.
"Don't worry, Father. We won't give you that chance," Miguel Gil replied resolutely.
Enrique Cerezo, a minority shareholder and Jesús Gil's loyal lieutenant, remained silent.
He knew that while the Gils could say such things openly, he couldn't. His role would shift with his new position as president—he would focus on representing the club socially and participating in high-level decision-making, leaving day-to-day operations to Miguel.
For Cerezo, this arrangement suited him well. It allowed him to step into the spotlight as a leader.
Meanwhile, on the pitch, Yang Hao was once again being hoisted into the air by his players.
The last time this happened, they had narrowly avoided relegation. This time, it was to celebrate a championship victory.
Throughout the stadium, tens of thousands of Atlético fans chanted Yang Hao's name, expressing their gratitude and admiration for the young manager.
"My suit is a mess now," Yang Hao complained jokingly, calling over team assistant Parra to help him tidy up his outfit before going on stage to accept the trophy.
The players, all smiles, burst into laughter at his remark. The earlier tears of joy had been replaced by lighthearted camaraderie.
"Boss, I'll buy you a new one later," Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink offered with a grin.
Yang Hao laughed. "Make it haute couture, then."
The players roared with laughter.
"Why are you laughing? Don't you think this suit doesn't fit me?" Yang Hao shot back playfully.
"That's because you bought it cheap!" Valerón quipped, earning another round of laughter from the group.
Yang Hao shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I do? I'm broke. You guys get paid after every match. Meanwhile, I haven't seen a single cent. Who am I supposed to complain to?"
The players couldn't help but laugh again.
Usually, the age gap between players and coaches meant there was little common ground for camaraderie.
But Yang Hao was different. He was close in age to the players, making it easy to connect and share conversations about anything.
As for his salary? Everyone knew Yang Hao was honest and fair in these matters—there was no room for complaint.
"Alright, enough joking around. Let's go get that trophy," said Kiko, wrapping an arm around Yang Hao's shoulder. "But I have a proposal: we all pitch in from the locker room and get you two or three custom-made suits. How's that sound?"
"Done," Yang Hao replied with mock seriousness. "Just make sure you embroider all your names on the linings. I'll keep them as souvenirs."
At this, the players grew somber for a moment.
Clubs stay; players come and go.
This was the reality of professional football.
(End of Chapter)
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