Soccer: I’m Building a Giant in the Premier League

Chapter 41: Boss, You're Not Talking About Me, Are You?

In his previous life, after working as a head coach for decades, Yang Cheng learned a valuable lesson:

Even what you see with your own eyes might not be the truth.

So rumors? Even less trustworthy.

Many people said Lass Diarra was a troublemaker with a difficult personality.

Yang Cheng used to believe that too.

But after meeting in Le Havre and then spending a month together in London, after a few conversations, Yang Cheng realized the truth wasn't so simple.

Take, for example, his conflict with Le Mans.

In Yang Cheng's past life, many saw it as a disastrous start to Lass Diarra's professional career.

But what was the reality?

Lass Diarra's parents were from Mali, and they moved to France in search of a better life.

They could barely speak French, let alone read it.

His father was a mason, his mother a cleaner, and they had seven kids. It's easy to imagine how hard it was to feed such a big family.

So his parents left early and came back late every day, with no time to look after their children.

Lass Diarra said his father once told him:

"When you face difficulties, you must work harder and keep learning. Only by suffering can you seize opportunities!"

This became a core principle that Lass Diarra lived by.

Fortunately, he was quite talented at football from a young age.

In 1998, at just 13 years old, he joined Paris Saint-Germain's youth academy.

But a year later, he was released for being too short and moved to Nantes instead.

Talking to Yang Cheng about this, he scoffed at PSG's coaches, claiming he played well.

"They only kicked me out because they thought someone as short as me could never be a professional footballer."

"I was 14 that year. Because of malnutrition, I developed late and was even shorter than I am now."

That last bit was Diarra joking at his own expense.

By all logic, Nantes treated him well, so why did he leave for Le Mans?

Because Le Mans convinced his father.

The exact conversation? Diarra didn't know. Maybe they gave the poor family some money. Maybe it was something else. Either way, his father was convinced.

But since his parents couldn't read French, Diarra handled the contracts himself.

Only after arriving at Le Mans did he realize that some of the contract clauses were different from what was promised.

He was 16 at the time.

Lost and unsure, he ran away from Le Mans.

That decision cost him a whole year. He couldn't sign with any other team and spent his time training on his own and playing street football.

Until 2002, when a scout from Le Havre discovered him, and he joined the club.

Two years later, he met Yang Cheng.

Yang Cheng didn't believe every word of Diarra's story, but a lot of it rang true.

From his own observations, since arriving in London—a city of bright lights and endless temptations—Diarra always went straight home after training.

He often called his parents and siblings back in France.

In Yang Cheng's previous life, Diarra had no off-field scandals.

As a professional, other than complaining about not being in the starting lineup and occasionally being criticized for holding the ball too long, there weren't many faults to speak of.

If you had to nitpick, it was probably that after leaving Real Madrid, he went to Russia's Anzhi for the money.

Not long after joining Bayswater Chinese, Yang Cheng asked if he needed anything.

Diarra said he wanted a set of gym equipment—he thought he was too short and worried he couldn't handle the physicality of the Championship, so he wanted to build his strength.

His role model was Claude Makélélé.

Outside training, he watched a lot of Makélélé's match footage.

He also used to study Zidane, since he had always worn the number 10, but gave up on that eventually.

Because he realized he'd never grow to Zidane's height.

Yang Cheng gave him full access to the team's gym and recommended he watch matches of Deco from Porto and Portugal.

So, when Diarra walked into Yang Cheng's office, the first question he got was...

…

"The Deco match footage I gave you—did you watch it?"

"Watched them all."

"Thoughts?"

"He's a very good midfielder. He's my role model."

Yang Cheng looked at the dark-skinned kid in front of him and almost couldn't hold back a laugh.

You're giving me the safest answer possible?

"I mean, what did you actually learn? As a midfielder, what qualities of his should you study?"

Diarra fell silent.

He was only 19, after all.

Yang Cheng didn't push him too hard.

From his preseason performances, Diarra was clearly putting in the effort.

Every time he was on the pitch, he gave it his all.

That attitude alone made him a coach's favorite.

Short, fast, agile, and most importantly, a tireless runner.

His defensive technique still needed work, but that could be improved.

"In my opinion, Deco is the best midfielder in world football right now. No one comes close!"

Diarra was visibly shocked by Yang Cheng's bold praise.

After all, Deco had just helped Porto win the Champions League, but hadn't proven himself at a true powerhouse club.

Then he realized—Yang Cheng was asking him to study Deco.

That was a huge vote of confidence.

"When you watch Deco's games, don't just watch the highlights or isolated clips. Ideally, go to the stadium and see the full picture—how he moves and positions himself."

"You'll notice that he's always running, and running smart. His opponents can never predict his next move or direction."

"That's why he always receives the ball in space."

Yang Cheng had also given Modric the task of studying Deco.

He even paid out of pocket for Modric to watch Deco live at the Euros.

"He's always observing—every player around him, their every move—and then he visualizes the next play in his mind. That's how he always gets ahead of the others."

"This anticipation is crucial for any midfielder."

Diarra looked thoughtful.

Clearly, Yang Cheng's words were striking a chord.

"What's even more impressive is that whether he's attacking or defending, Deco always makes the smartest decision. His timing on passes is flawless. The speed and accuracy of his passing are perfect."

"And fouling—he commits a lot of them. Plays dirty, even. But very effectively."

Yang Cheng figured that was enough for now.

He never expected Diarra to turn into Deco.

A genius is a genius.

Some things are simply innate—you can't learn them.

What Yang Cheng wanted was for Diarra to develop the habit of reading the game and observing carefully.

That was essential for a midfielder.

Even more important, he had to master the timing of his passes.

In his previous life, Yang Cheng had seen the stats: Diarra had great passing accuracy, but he also got dispossessed a lot. Why?

Too much dribbling?

No one wants to lose the ball on purpose.

If it happened, it was either because he lacked passing options or misjudged the timing.

"You've played in seven friendlies now. I think you have a good sense of where you're at."

Yang Cheng smiled at Diarra, eyes full of encouragement.

"I want to make you an offer."

"An offer?" Diarra looked surprised.

"Yes. First league game—we're away at Reading. Big match. I really don't like that old man Coppell."

Diarra nodded, understanding the message.

"I'm planning to start you."

"Really?"

"But don't get excited too quickly. Here's the deal—I'll pay you a personal bonus of £100 for every ball you win in that game."

"£100 per ball?"

Diarra's current weekly salary was only £700.

If he won seven balls, he'd double his weekly wage!

Yang Cheng noticed his eyes lighting up and chuckled inwardly.

Kids from poor families really valued money.

"Hold on, I'm serious about the bonus. But…"

Yang Cheng's tone shifted, and Diarra's heart skipped a beat, afraid he was backing out.

"But if you lose possession—whether by a bad pass or losing the ball in a challenge—you'll be fined £200 for each instance."

Oof. That was steep.

Diarra's face scrunched up.

But thinking about that £100 reward...

He knew his strengths. He was great at ball-winning.

Yang Cheng's instruction was simple: win the ball, then release it.

Seeing Diarra's torn expression, Yang Cheng was secretly amused.

He really was putting a lot of effort into molding this kid.

…

After sending off the conflicted Diarra, Yang Cheng wasn't worried about him rejecting the deal.

With his ball-winning ability, Diarra wouldn't walk away from that kind of money.

As for his position, Yang Cheng wasn't putting him in the deep-lying No. 4 role, so there was nothing to worry about.

After Diarra left, Modric knocked on Yang Cheng's door.

After a year of hard work, Modric still looked a bit skinny, but his physique had changed completely. He was even planning to bring his family over to live in London.

He was now earning £2,000 a week—he could afford it.

Yang Cheng asked about his family and told him not to hesitate to ask for help if needed, either from him or the club.

"Luka, I asked you here to get your opinion on something."

Modric nodded. "Go ahead."

"The new players have been with us for a month now. We've played seven friendlies and trained together for a while. Who do you think should be our team captain?"

Yang Cheng asked seriously.

Modric hadn't expected that question and was momentarily speechless.

After thinking for a while, he said, "Boss, didn't we choose based on age last season? If we go by that, it should be Danny Coney—he's 31."

Yang Cheng smiled and shook his head. "Last season was an exception. Doesn't count."

"What about a homegrown player? Would that be more suitable?"

"Not necessarily."

After a pause, Yang Cheng added, "Back then, Manchester United had Steve Bruce, a homegrown player, as captain. But Cantona, a Frenchman, eventually took the armband too."

"Same with Arsenal's Vieira. He was captain as well."

For Yang Cheng, being local didn't automatically qualify someone to be captain.

"Then I think José Fonte might be a good choice."

"Why?"

"He came through Sporting Lisbon's academy. From what I've seen so far, he's very capable, but more importantly, he gets along with everyone. Everyone has a good impression of him."

To be honest, José Fonte was pretty impressive.

New to the team, unfamiliar with the language, and yet he still managed to connect with his teammates.

Some people were just born socially gifted.

In the locker room, strength on the pitch wasn't everything.

Some star players were too aloof to handle locker room dynamics.

Some benchwarmers barely played but were crucial to team chemistry.

Not naming names, of course.

"I did consider José Fonte."

Yang Cheng looked at Modric and smiled directly.

"But I think there's someone even more suitable."

Modric's heart skipped a beat.

He felt Yang Cheng's gaze.

Boss, you're not talking about me, are you?