Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

CSKA Moscow were no strangers to the Champions League.

Though their best result had only been reaching the quarterfinals, there was no doubt: none of the European giants wanted to face them in the round of sixteen.

The reason? Unlike playing second-tier league teams where the only issue might be travel fatigue, teams from the Russian Premier League and Ukrainian Premier League brought something extra to the table—something that felt like ”magic damage.”

Playing away in February meant battling more than just the opponent. Half your energy went into surviving the bitter cold and harsh snow, and the rest into the actual game.

That’s why home teams from those leagues often had excellent results.

This year, two Russian teams had made it into the Round of 16: CSKA Moscow and Zenit St. Petersburg.

So when Madrid and Benfica drew CSKA and Zenit respectively, fans were quick to call them the ”unlucky ones.”

Still, while Benfica were widely doubted, Madrid’s situation was only joked about—mainly regarding the possible loss of players to injuries or illness in the first leg.

Very few believed CSKA Moscow could truly trouble this red-hot Madrid side.

Madrid had just achieved their 20th consecutive league win. Their form was explosive, their squad depth arguably the best in Europe.

Beating CSKA Moscow? That was supposed to be easy.

The media, as always, were more interested in how well Madrid would play in Moscow’s freezing conditions. Would they adapt? Would Ronaldo continue scoring to stay neck-and-neck with Messi in the Champions League top scorer race?

Indeed, the mood within Madrid matched the media’s optimism.

Especially after the first-team squad demolished Espanyol 5-0 on January 31, almost securing their place in the Copa del Rey final.

That overwhelming victory had inflated the atmosphere within the club. It seeped into training, into the locker room.

Mourinho noticed it immediately.

He went straight to Casillas and asked him to help calm everyone down.

Casillas agreed and held a team meeting, but the results were... lackluster.

Not exactly what Mourinho had hoped for.

Leon saw it all—though as someone still considered a ”junior” in the squad, he knew he didn’t have the authority to step up and take over Casillas’s role.

If he tried to make a harsh, commanding speech, the whole locker room would likely explode.

It wasn’t that Casillas lacked credentials. He had both the seniority and the respect.

But his nature made him a better vice-captain—amiable, diplomatic—not a true enforcer.

If this had been Raúl or Hierro, one shout from them and even Ronaldo would have toned down his pride.

It didn’t matter if they agreed with what was said or not—nobody dared to push back. When they said reflect, you reflected.

Players like Puyol at Barça, or Gattuso at Milan—they were the real spiritual anchors of a squad.

Their mere presence made life much easier for coaches.

Unfortunately, Madrid lacked such a figure.

Casillas had spoken once. Everyone said they’d think it over, then moved on as if nothing happened.

Leon liked and respected Casillas, but he didn’t agree with his approach this time.

He thought at least a few of the more ”confident” players should have been pulled aside for one-on-one conversations—help them open up and cool down.

Just letting things slide like this wouldn’t change anything.

What Leon feared most was that Mourinho himself would step in directly.

So far, Madrid had been winning, and Mourinho had proven he could lead this team to beat Barcelona.

Right now, his authority in the club was at an all-time high.

But using that authority to forcefully discipline star players, make them humble and focused—that was dangerous.

Plenty of coaches had lost their locker rooms that way.

And then, Leon’s worst-case scenario played out in real life.

On the afternoon of February 2, after training, Mourinho didn’t dismiss the squad as usual.

Instead, he gathered the entire coaching staff and every first-team player on the training pitch.

With a stern voice, Mourinho issued a warning—to everyone, including his own assistants.

”Until we have a trophy in our hands, I want you all to forget the wins we’ve had so far. If we fail at the final hurdle, everything we’ve done will mean nothing. Do you hear me? NOTHING.

Last season, we finished second in the league and reached the Champions League semifinals. And how did the world respond?

They called us losers!

Have you already forgotten that?

Do you think Barcelona won the double last year because they were arrogant and cocky?

Forget the praise from the media. Stay sharp. If we win a trophy, then go ahead—celebrate, boast, strut. But until then, remember what you are.

Losers!

We must climb again—with the mindset of losers—and earn every step we take in Europe and La Liga.”

It was classic Mourinho—sharp, intense, uncompromising.

Leon got the message. He knew exactly what Mourinho was saying.

But he could also feel it—some of the players didn’t take kindly to being called ”losers.”

Especially with their current form, that word struck a nerve. You could almost hear the internal resistance building in the silence.

Still, Mourinho had spoken.

And now, they’d have to show what kind of team they really were.

They didn’t speak up at the time. Everyone gritted their teeth and endured Mourinho’s ”lecture.”

But in that final moment before they were dismissed, Leon noticed the grim expressions on several of his teammates’ faces.

Like Casillas, who likely felt his dignity as captain had been insulted, or Ramos, who clearly didn’t appreciate Mourinho calling them ”failures.”

The only thing that gave Leon some comfort was that Ronaldo hadn’t taken it personally.

Ronaldo was a little annoyed, yes, but he was also the one currently edging out Messi in their scoring rivalry. He wanted to see the team succeed in the Champions League, and he understood the bigger picture.

Leon guessed that it also helped that Mourinho hadn’t touched Pepe or Kaká. As long as he didn’t interfere with Ronaldo’s closest allies, there wouldn’t be any direct confrontation.

But now that key Spanish players like Casillas and Ramos were visibly displeased, how long could the facade of peace in the Madrid locker room last?

Leon wasn’t sure—but he knew this much: as long as Pepe, Alonso, and Ronaldo didn’t revolt, Mourinho’s Real Madrid wouldn’t fall apart.

Continued wins on the field would help keep the dissatisfaction buried.

Even if some players disliked Mourinho’s management style, as long as they were on track to deliver Madrid’s long-awaited tenth Champions League trophy, Florentino Pérez would never allow anyone to sabotage the mission.

That was a kind of safety net.

With memories of the future still vivid in his mind, Leon understood exactly where the problems in the Madrid locker room stemmed from.

Could it be fixed? Actually—yes.

As long as Casillas’s loose-tongued girlfriend didn’t start leaking locker room gossip to the media, things might hold together.

If she didn’t stir up trouble, the rift between Casillas and Mourinho could be avoided. The little cracks in the team would naturally be patched up by the desire for silverware.

So, if there was a way to fix—or at least delay—the explosion of Madrid’s locker room, it lay in one thing: convincing Casillas to keep his mouth shut.

Last season, Leon had tried to stay neutral.

But now, he couldn’t afford to.

He loved this team. He was part of the Real Madrid academy. He liked Mourinho’s Madrid.

He didn’t want the regrets of the past to repeat themselves.

So, he took action.

He went to Mourinho directly, completely candid.

There was no need to be coy—Leon laid out his concerns and proposed a plan.

”I’ll talk to the guys again, boss. If any rumors leak to the media, I hope you’ll let me speak to them first—try to handle it quietly.”

”What rumors? You heard something already? And come on, if there’s an issue, I’ll deal with it myself. You don’t need to worry.”

Mourinho initially brushed it off, thinking Leon was just being overly cautious. He even told him to go finish his extra training.

But when he saw the seriousness in Leon’s expression, he paused. Something wasn’t right.

”They really didn’t take my speech well?”

”A few of them didn’t, yes. That’s why I came to see you.”

”Who?”

”You probably saw it yourself when you dismissed us.”

Mourinho gripped his pen tightly, tension rising.

”Do you trust me?” Leon asked before he could reply. ”Do you believe I’ll always stand by your side?”

Of course Mourinho said yes.

”I do. You understand me, Little Lion.”

”Then let this stay internal, boss. Let me try to smooth things over with the players. I’ll do it in a way you’ll be happy with. Trust me?”

”I do. But—”

”Then let me try. If I fail, no matter what you decide next, I’ll still be with you.”

Leon’s sincerity won Mourinho over. A coach has no reason to refuse a player who says, ”No matter what, I’ll be on your side.”

But when it came time to talk with Casillas and Ramos, Leon didn’t use the same directness.

Instead, he invited a few of the senior Spanish players, plus several Castilla youth graduates, to a private dinner after training on February 3.

The vibe? ”Only family here tonight.”

Leon skillfully steered the conversation toward the team’s success.

Twenty straight league wins. Six wins in the Champions League group stage. A near-guaranteed spot in the Copa final. A win over Barcelona.

The room buzzed with energy. Casillas and Ramos were in great spirits.

They’d always seen Leon as ”one of their own.” Now, they spoke freely around him.

They said this Madrid team would achieve more than Barcelona had. Leon shouted his agreement.

They said they’d restore Madrid’s legacy in Europe. Leon banged the table and cheered.

They complained about Mourinho’s harsh words—that they weren’t failures. Leon nodded furiously. ”Exactly, brothers! I thought the same thing!”

The room lit up. No one had even started drinking, but the mood was already flying.

Then Leon pivoted.

He slammed the media, accusing some reporters of deliberately trying to sabotage Madrid’s rise.

Ramos couldn’t take it—he slapped the table and demanded names.

Leon slapped his own hand down and launched into a story he had made up on the spot.

”Just a few days ago, after you guys crushed Espanyol 5-0, I stayed at the training base for extra drills the next morning.

A group of reporters stopped me—and one of them handed me a note.

He asked me to share some ’fun’ gossip from the locker room.

Said they’d help us get more exposure...”

At that moment, I tore up the paper right in front of him. Wasn’t he trying to harm me and the team?

He said it was to ”help promote” us, but you just know that if I told him anything, he’d twist the story beyond recognition.

Then the boss would blame me for leaking locker room secrets—I’d be done for!”

As soon as Leon finished speaking, Nacho was the first to respond, waving his hand and declaring firmly,

”That had to be a Mundo Deportivo reporter! They’ve seen we’re about to outshine Barça this season and are just here to stir up trouble!”

”I think so too!”

”Damn it, let me catch one of those reporters—I’ll smash his camera to bits!”

”Well done, Little Lion, clear-headed as always! None of us can afford to make a mistake like that!”

As the group chimed in with agreement, Leon heard Casillas commend him too, which instantly settled his nerves.

”Captain, don’t blame me for tricking you. You’ve got that ’love-brain’ going on. If I don’t get ahead of this, your girlfriend’s going to end up blowing up the whole locker room. I had to act first,” Leon thought to himself with a silent smirk.

With the tension diffused, Leon led the group into a cheerful vision of the team lifting a treble by season’s end.

Everyone left the restaurant satisfied, patting shoulders and saying their goodbyes.

The journalists staking out the scene watched the Real Madrid players exit, embracing one another with smiles, and commented on how harmonious and united the team seemed.

The next morning, news of the Real Madrid team dinner was broadcast everywhere.

When Mourinho picked up the morning paper, he fell into thoughtful silence.

At that day’s final pre-match training session, the noticeably higher spirits among the players brought visible relief to Karanka and the rest of the coaching staff.

Mourinho, with a knowing look, glanced at Leon a few times during the session. But Leon acted as if nothing had happened, happily following behind Alonso as usual.

Still, Mourinho knew—Leon must have done something at that dinner.

He was curious, itching to know the details. But when he remembered how candid Leon had been just two days earlier, he let it go.

Whatever the specifics, the locker room was back on track. That was all that mattered.

With the internal storm settled, Real Madrid returned to full throttle on both fronts.

On February 4 and February 8, the first-team players notched back-to-back wins in La Liga and the Copa del Rey.

They beat Getafe 2–0 in Round 22 of the league, then handled Espanyol with a respectful 3–1 to advance to the Copa final.

With the Copa semifinal out of the way, they no longer needed to worry about that congested fixture list—at least not for now.

On February 12, Mourinho again rotated the squad. Both Ronaldo and Leon started on the bench for their home match against Levante in Round 23 of the league.

At the moment, Levante weren’t pushovers. They had been surprisingly strong all season and were sitting fourth in La Liga, ahead of both Atlético Madrid and Athletic Bilbao.

Mourinho had no choice but to rest his stars. Whether the starters rested against Espanyol or not, the Levante clash would be a battle.

Madrid were still favorites to win, but the physical cost would be steep.

With the Champions League knockout clash against CSKA Moscow looming on February 14, Mourinho couldn’t risk back-to-back tough matches for his starting XI.

Deploying the rotation squad against Levante made the most sense—even bringing Ronaldo was already a calculated risk.

But Mourinho couldn’t refuse Ronaldo’s burning desire to play. He finally agreed to let him come on in the second half.

That night, Levante, fresh and focused, went toe-to-toe with Madrid.

Leon and Ronaldo watched from the bench as their team went from 0–1 in the first half to 0–2 by the 51st minute.

To be honest, both were anxious. But until Mourinho gave the signal, all they could do was wait.

Finally, in the 60th minute, Mourinho sent them to warm up.

By the 64th, they were on the pitch, replacing Lucas Vázquez and Nuri Şahin.

The impact was immediate.

Madrid seized control of the match, and Leon’s presence stabilized the midfield, which had been repeatedly breached before.

In the 82nd minute, Callejón burst into the box and won a penalty.

Ronaldo converted it with ease, narrowing the score to 1–2.

But time was too short.

There would be no miracle this time. Madrid couldn’t claw back the equalizer. Their record-setting league win streak came to a halt at 21.

A disappointment—for everyone.

But Mourinho and the coaching staff had anticipated this.

Faced with reality, Mourinho had made his choice: prioritize the Champions League.

And in a way, the loss was freeing.

The pressure of maintaining the streak had been lifted. Psychologically, the squad was lighter.

With no more burdens, the first-team players could now focus purely on winning the matches that mattered most.

After the initial disappointment, both the media and the Madrid fanbase shifted their gaze forward.

To February 14.

To the frozen battleground of Moscow.

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