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Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

Chapter 119: Let the Whole World Remember Our Names—We Are the Greatest Mourinho-Era Madrid! · Nov 11, 2026

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Chapter List (401)

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101 Chapter 101: Formation Core Leon — Bringing the XJBT Tactic to Real Madrid 2026-11-11
102 Chapter 102: You Can Be Better Looking Than Me, But Dirtier? Never—Because I’m the True Defensive Midfielder! 2026-11-11
103 Chapter 103: Don’t Panic, Xiao Ping—Barça Will Deliver 2026-11-11
104 Chapter 104: Breaking Through the Long Pass Barrier, Filling the Shortcomings 2026-11-11
105 Chapter 105: A Gift for Everyone—So No One Gets to Laugh at Anyone Else 2026-11-11
106 Chapter 106: When It’s a Friend, You Hit Even Harder 2026-11-11
107 Chapter 107: The Meaning of Real Madrid Is Victory—It Is Championship 2026-11-11
108 Chapter 108: They Came to Madrid Saying They Were Here to Win—And Got Beaten 3–0 Again 2026-11-11
109 Chapter 109: This Is Mourinho’s Trump Card—The Midfield Beast Trio PLUS Edition! 2026-11-11
110 Chapter 110: Barcelona, Salute This Season’s La Liga Champions! 2026-11-11
111 Chapter 111: A World Apart—You Can’t Turtle Up Against Bayern, Turtling Won’t Save You 2026-11-11
112 Chapter 112: I Told You—Leon Would Be the Key to Breaking Bayern Down! 2026-11-11
113 Chapter 113: On the Battle for Possession—Mourinho Says, “You’re All Trash Compared to Me” 2026-11-11
114 Chapter 114: Real Madrid’s Championship Aura Can’t Be Hidden Anymore—So They Won’t Hide It! 2026-11-11
115 Chapter 115: Barcelona’s Dynasty Has Ended—And Real Madrid Is Climbing to the Summit! 2026-11-11
116 Chapter 116: There’s No Shortcut to This Championship—Only Unity, Only Sacrifice 2026-11-11
117 Chapter 117: Equalized by a Header? We’re Not Bayern Munich! 2026-11-11
118 Chapter 118: Few Teams Are as Resilient as You—But I Just Want to Win 2026-11-11
119 Chapter 119: Let the Whole World Remember Our Names—We Are the Greatest Mourinho-Era Madrid! 2026-11-11
120 Chapter 120: When You Gaze Upon the Crown, Bow Your Head—And Salute the Treble Winners 2026-11-11
121 Chapter 121: In a Summer Window of an Arms Race, Madrid’s Selling Strategy Feels Out of Place 2026-11-11
122 Chapter 122: A New Era Begins—When the Young Replace the Old, Football Marches On 2026-11-11
123 Chapter 123: The New Generation Replaces the Old—A New Era in Football Has Arrived 2026-11-11
124 Chapter 124: We’re Still Growing—Real Madrid Is Still Growing! 2026-11-11
125 Chapter 125: If Anyone Forces Me to Pick a Side—I’ll Flip the Damn Table (Part 1) 2026-11-11
126 Chapter 126: There’s No Need to Overcomplicate Things Against Barça – Just Stick to Counterattacks and Aerial Balls 2026-11-11
127 Chapter 127: Watch Out—Here Comes Real Madrid’s Aerial Attack Squad! 2026-11-11
128 Chapter 128: Why Does That Number Ten Keep Charging Into Our Box?! 2026-11-11
129 Chapter 129: Luka, You’re My Natural-Born Midfield Partner 2026-11-11
130 Chapter 130: Winning a Trophy as Soon as You Arrive—So This Is What It Feels Like to Be at a Big Club? 2026-11-11
131 Chapter 131: The Fifth Trophy of the Year — Kings of Europe 2026-11-11
132 Chapter 132: The Birth of a New Midfield Duo — Twin Turbo Engines Engage! 2026-11-11
133 Chapter 133: So You Guys Are the So-Called New Kings of the Premier League? 2026-11-11
134 Chapter 134: You’re Not Vieira, and You’re Not Even Close 2026-11-11
135 Chapter 135: Li Ang Isn’t in the Top Five Defensive Midfielders—He Just Beat Two of Them 2026-11-11
136 Chapter 136: This Season’s ”Father-Son Match” Came Awfully Early 2026-11-11
137 Chapter 137: Sometimes, Charging Forward Is the Best Way to Break the Game 2026-11-11
138 Chapter 138: I Can Choose Not to Shoot—But You Don’t Dare Not to Defend 2026-11-11
139 Chapter 139: Farewell to the Jia Mansion—Same Atmosphere, Same Opening 2026-11-11
140 Chapter 140: Messi Drops Deep Early—A Smarter Barça 2026-11-11
141 Chapter 141: Wait, What? You Both Chickened Out? Just Fight Already! 2026-11-11
142 Chapter 142: Header Equalizer! Li Ang Only Scores in Clutch Moments! 2026-11-11
143 Chapter 143: Götze’s Hunger to Compete—The Battle of the ’90s Generation Stars 2026-11-11
144 Chapter 144: Come On—Show Us What You’ve Got, Challenge the Defending Champions! 2026-11-11
145 Chapter 145: Don’t Break Down—It’s Just That I’m Better Than You 2026-11-11
146 Chapter 146: We Are Here—Real Madrid Is Right Here! 2026-11-11
147 Chapter 147: Chaos Unleashed—Atlético Charges In Swinging a Giant Blade 2026-11-11
148 Chapter 148: Want to Advance? Now You Have to Look at Real Madrid’s Face 2026-11-11
149 Chapter 149: The Madman’s Temper—Public Opinion Erupts! 2026-11-11
150 Chapter 150: If You Can’t Get Past Li Ang, You Don’t Deserve to Face Pepe and Ramos 2026-11-11

When the referee pointed to the center circle, confirming the goal stood, Mourinho didn’t run down the touchline like he had in the past.

His knees buckled slightly, and he simply sat back down on the bench.

”José! We’re gonna win it! We’re going to be Champions of Europe!”

Karanka’s ecstatic shout echoed in his ear, while the deafening noise of the Bernabéu faded in and out like a dream.

Only one thought remained clear in Mourinho’s heart:

The match isn’t over. Stay calm. Stay focused.

He took a deep breath. The fire in his eyes returned.

Gripping Karanka’s shoulder, Mourinho stood up with steadiness and clarity.

”Álbiol, Kaká, Nacho—have them warm up.

We’re closing this the right way. You too, Aitor—keep your head.”

Mourinho marched toward the edge of the pitch.

If his players were going to see this through, he wanted to stand beside them.

On the sidelines, the sight of Álbiol and others warming up caused murmurs in the Chelsea end.

”Real Madrid’s bunkering down! Mourinho’s about to park the bus!”

”It’s the right call. He’ll sub off a forward—probably Benzema or Di María.

Cristiano will play until the end,” predicted Coach Zhang.

And sure enough, Álbiol replaced Di María before Chelsea could restart.

Di María clapped to the Madrid fans on all sides but didn’t waste time—he was already on a yellow.

One more card would’ve ruined it.

With the substitution complete, Madrid switched to a 5-3-2.

Chelsea wasted no time—kickoff, and then long ball after long ball.

But now with Álbiol on, Madrid’s aerial defense reached fortress status.

In the 87th minute, Mata sent in a curling cross.

Álbiol was there first—cleared it.

Drogba shook his head in frustration.

Pepe and Ramos were clamping down on him harder than ever.

Leon, who collected the clearance, didn’t waste time.

Under pressure from two Chelsea players, he hoofed the ball deep into their half.

It bounced out for a throw-in.

Di Matteo played his final cards.

He sent on Bertrand and Malouda for Mata and Mikel.

This was it—all or nothing.

The final minutes turned into a war of attrition.

Chelsea’s fullbacks were sending in crosses nonstop.

Madrid dropped nearly everyone into their defensive third.

Even Cristiano Ronaldo and Benzema were defending inside the box.

The air was full of bodies and flying elbows.

Every Madrid player with a strong head was jostling in the box with Chelsea’s poachers.

In the 89th minute, Mourinho made his final changes.

Kaká replaced Benzema, and Nacho came on for Marcelo, adding energy and muscle to the back line.

Stoppage time: four minutes.

Karanka was furious.

He stormed toward the fourth official.

Di Matteo’s assistant argued the opposite—that Madrid’s substitutions had wasted time and four wasn’t enough.

The coaches barked at each other, but no one on the pitch cared.

Chelsea threw everything forward.

Even Terry and Ivanović were now in Madrid’s box, hunting headers.

Madrid defended for their lives.

Then Kaká broke free.

With Chelsea’s defense in chaos, he launched a solo counterattack.

But he wasn’t the Kaká of 2007 anymore.

Bertrand caught him and forced him to the corner.

With no support, Kaká smartly shielded the ball for 30 seconds, then kicked it off Cahill for a goal kick.

Chelsea fans booed.

Madrid fans cheered.

Kaká jogged back. Half of stoppage time was already gone.

”Hold on, brothers!

Don’t think about the time—

Stand your ground!

If they attack, we break it!

Keep shouting!

Call out any gaps in formation!”

Leon was barking orders inside the box.

This job should’ve belonged to Casillas or Ramos.

But one was too quiet.

The other had to shadow Drogba every second.

So Leon and Ronaldo became the generals, roaring instructions and rallying morale.

Leon didn’t know how many seconds remained.

But he gave himself fully to every moment of defense.

Chelsea attacked again.

Bertrand beat a tired Arbeloa and whipped in a dangerous, curling cross.

Drogba went for it.

Pepe got muscled aside again.

But this time, Ronaldo soared in—cleared it!

Bertrand took the throw, quickly fed it to Ramires, who swung it to Lampard.

Lampard fired in a low, fast cross.

Leon was there.

Torres tried to slip by.

Leon wouldn’t let him.

As the ball came in near the front post, Leon lunged, throwing his whole body into the clearance.

It went out for a corner.

Torres sprinted to grab the ball—he was going to take it quickly.

But then—the final whistle blew.

Two short blasts. One long.

The echo tore through the Allianz Arena.

”The match is over! It’s OVER!!!

Chelsea didn’t get their final corner!

Real Madrid have won the 2011–2012 UEFA Champions League!

Congratulations to Real Madrid!

Congratulations to Leon!”

”But let’s not forget to honor Chelsea as well.

This was a fairy tale season.

Madrid may have triumphed,

but Chelsea reminded us of the beauty of perseverance.”

The camera panned to the veterans.

Drogba was crying.

The Beast stood tall, but his tears flowed freely.

Torres lowered his head.

Lampard stood motionless at midfield,

staring at the Champions League trophy.

No tears—but sorrow in his eyes.

Terry’s eyes were red, whispering comfort to Čech.

They all knew.

This was their closest chance since 2008.

And now?

This might be the end.

The era of the Iron-Blooded Blues was closing.

No second spring.

No eternal youth.

No fairytale ending.

Essien, red-eyed, walked over to embrace his old comrades.

He was happy—yet heartbroken.

Mourinho clenched his jaw and turned away from Drogba, heading for his team.

Now was not the time.

Not before celebrating with his own men.

The players dragged him into their celebrations.

”Boss! We did it!!”

Leon didn’t hesitate.

He threw his arms around Mourinho and jumped like a child.

The fans roared, clapping through their tears.

Mourinho’s face—usually stone—was relaxed and glowing.

Leon raised his fist high and shouted above the din:

”Come on! Let the world remember our names!

We are the greatest Mourinho-era Real Madrid!”

Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.

Read 20 Chapters In Advance: /johanssen10

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