Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

There are always people who claim Mourinho only knows how to use strong, all-action midfielders. It’s a laughable stereotype.

Sure, you could argue that Mourinho has high standards for his midfielders and attacking playmakers—so high that players who aren’t quite up to par often seem burdened, their performance limited by the tactical load. They don’t meet expectations, and their stint under Mourinho is deemed underwhelming.

But when a player has the ability and can execute Mourinho’s demanding tactical instructions? That’s when true brilliance shines.

There’s no need to talk about Deco or Lampard—they’ve already proven their evolution under Mourinho.

Take Wesley Sneijder, for example. Under Mourinho at Inter, he delivered performances that were nothing short of sensational. Most fans and pundits know exactly what he became.

Modrić was one of the insiders who understood this truth.

He didn’t question Mourinho’s decision to hold off on playing him. Nor did he complain when tasked with a more defensive role in his debut. There was no dissatisfaction, only focus.

And now, the results had vindicated both Modrić’s patience and Mourinho’s trust.

Mourinho knew his strengths. He knew exactly how to use him.

That’s why he made sure Luka had time to integrate into training, to develop synergy with his teammates, and why, in his first start, he wasn’t thrown headfirst into midfield duels.

”Don’t rush this season. Get used to things first. I’ll make sure you play alongside Li Ang as often as possible. He’ll draw their defensive focus—you just find the space to push forward and dictate the tempo…”

The manager’s words, spoken before the match, echoed once more in Modrić’s mind.

Adjust to a new league. Adapt to a new system. Get used to the tempo, different from the Premier League. Only then worry about personal performance.

Those were Mourinho’s modest expectations.

And now, Modrić had already paid back that trust with a commendable showing.

He didn’t need an entire season to settle in. Just a few days of intense training with his teammates, and he was already able to dictate attacking rhythms and launch dangerous plays.

His adaptability and intelligence had exceeded everyone’s expectations.

From build-up play in the back to tracking runs, covering wide, and making that final threatening pass—he showcased his full range of abilities across multiple roles in midfield.

Even Mourinho, who’d believed in him from the beginning, was likely surprised at just how smooth the transition had been.

Perhaps the only one who truly knew Modrić’s ceiling was Li Ang.

”Nice work, Luka. If another opportunity opens up, don’t hesitate—push forward. Don’t worry about misplacing a pass—I’ll cover the first line of defense.”

After hugging him during the goal celebration, Li Ang offered a quiet reminder, encouraging Modrić to play freely, to use his full range in Mourinho’s system.

Mourinho saw this exchange from the touchline and smiled.

He felt reassured.

Even if Modrić still needed more time to build chemistry with the rest of the squad, with Li Ang ”escorting” him, he could probably reach 70–80% of the level he’d shown at Spurs right away.

That alone would be enough to give Xabi Alonso some much-needed rest in preparation for the grueling Champions League and La Liga schedule ahead.

”This signing was the right call. As long as we keep Alonso’s appearances under 40, he should maintain last season’s level,” Karanka remarked approvingly.

Now that Alonso had passed the age of thirty, Real Madrid’s medical team, including Pintus and physical coach Rui Faria, had advised Mourinho not to overuse him.

The first half of the season was manageable. But if Alonso’s form dipped due to fatigue or—worse—if he picked up a serious injury in the latter half, Madrid’s performance would inevitably suffer.

That’s why the expectations placed on Modrić were far beyond that of a mere rotational piece.

Mourinho hadn’t brought him in just to act as midfield glue.

He bought Modrić to groom him into the new playmaking core of Real Madrid’s midfield.

As Alonso aged and gradually accepted a bench role, the future midfield axis would be composed of Li Ang and Modrić—the new double engine driving Madrid forward.

That was Mourinho’s ideal vision. The next stage of Madrid’s evolution.

With dual orchestrators at the heart of the team, Ronaldo up front as the final weapon, Pepe and Ramos locking down the defense, and Casillas maintaining form in goal, this central spine could dominate Europe for another three to four years.

Mourinho wasn’t just thinking short term. When he bought players, he thought about seasons ahead.

He was even prepared to give Modrić a full season to adjust and transform.

And when it came to squad-building? Mourinho feared no one.

Give him time. Give him trust. He would build Real Madrid into a Super Battleship—capable of ruling Europe for five years.

”Matuidi’s been excellent too. The summer signings have really delivered. Once we promote Jesé to the first team, we won’t lack attacking options either,” Mourinho added cheerfully to Karanka.

After the restart, Real Madrid played with even more composure, now that they held the lead.

Sevilla didn’t fall apart—they adjusted quickly and began battling for control in midfield.

Rakitić and Medel were both strong individual players.

But today, they ran into Li Ang, who wasn’t afraid of any duel.

Even when Madrid lost possession, Li Ang’s full-throttle, box-to-box coverage allowed him to disrupt everything Sevilla tried to build.

He wasn’t worried about stamina. He swept across the pitch, intercepting, pressing, and recovering. It was a one-man midfield wall.

When it came to chaotic fights for possession and physical brawls for control, Li Ang’s message was simple:

”To all you so-called midfielders from Sevilla—you’re nothing but trash.”

Michel quickly regretted his tactical decisions the moment he saw Li Ang’s dominant display on the field.

After being constantly harassed and outmuscled by Li Ang, Medel lost his temper. After losing possession again, he charged in from the side and completely leveled Li Ang—nowhere near the ball.

It was a blatant foul. A yellow card for Sevilla’s starting defensive midfielder was absolutely unavoidable.

The problem? The match was only in the 28th minute.

There were still over 60 minutes to play, and now Medel had to play it safe. No more aggressive tackles. So how was Sevilla supposed to go head-to-head with Real Madrid in midfield?

Faced with the worsening situation in the center of the pitch, Michel didn’t wait for halftime. In the 37th minute, he substituted Maduro for Kondogbia.

Medel was pushed out to right midfield, while Kondogbia took over the holding role.

To be fair, this adjustment worked relatively well. Modrić, now operating on the left, found himself increasingly restricted by Medel’s presence and wasn’t as active as before.

Li Ang also toned down his direct charges against Kondogbia, instead shifting to more long and short passes to control the rhythm and diversify Madrid’s attacks.

Unfortunately, Di María was off-form today. His attempts to cut inside and shoot lacked precision, with none of his efforts even hitting the target. Several good chances went to waste.

Despite dominating the first half in many areas, Madrid went into halftime with only a slim 1–0 lead.

In the second half, Li Ang and Modrić swapped positions again. Li Ang went back to dealing with Medel, while Modrić was tasked with shadowing Rakitić.

The two Croatians were very familiar with each other from national team duty. Both were creative midfielders, not bruisers, so their duels weren’t physically intense.

But over on the other side, Li Ang wasn’t pulling any punches.

Knowing Medel was carrying a yellow, he deliberately engaged him physically, bumping and baiting him repeatedly.

Michel was stunned on the sidelines. He’d never imagined that Li Ang, who always seemed like a composed, intelligent player, also had such a mischievous and provocative side to his game.

With no other choice, Michel made another substitution. In the 62nd minute, a visibly frustrated and flustered Medel was taken off.

Just a minute earlier, Medel had been at the center of yet another flare-up with Li Ang, and it took Kondogbia physically dragging him away to prevent what could’ve been a second yellow.

So, in the end, Medel was spared a sending-off—but only barely.

He was replaced by young prospect Campaña.

Michel didn’t expect much from the kid. He just hoped he could help circulate the ball and not get completely bullied by Li Ang.

But Li Ang and Modrić weren’t done yet.

They rotated again.

Even Matuidi, standing behind the two, couldn’t help but grin as he watched it unfold.

Sevilla’s fans sighed and shook their heads. Their midfield had been completely scrambled by the constant switching of Li Ang and Modrić.

With Medel off, Li Ang stopped challenging Kondogbia directly, and Modrić—now facing a less physical opponent in Campaña—came alive once more.

Madrid turned up the pressure.

In the 73rd minute, Callejón, who had come on for Di María, burst past Rakitić down the wing with a classic line-breaking run.

Before Sevilla’s left-back Navarro could get out to intercept, Callejón cut inside and delivered a sharp cross into the box.

Benzema jumped early, smartly drawing Sevilla’s towering center-back Botía away from the center.

That left the shorter Spahić, at just 1.83 meters, trying to contest a leaping Cristiano Ronaldo.

No contest.

Ronaldo soared above him and smashed in a powerful header—his second goal of the night.

2–0.

The goal came at the perfect time, just as Sevilla were trying to claw their way back into the match. For many fans hoping to see Madrid stumble, it was the final straw. Some started turning off their TVs.

A 2–0 scoreline isn’t a blowout. It’s not unassailable.

But for a Madrid side rotating key players ahead of the Champions League, it was a perfectly acceptable result.

Don’t be fooled by Sevilla’s modest finishes in the last couple of league seasons—they remained a tough, gritty opponent.

Beating them convincingly on the road right before a European fixture? That was reason enough for Madrid fans to be more than pleased.

And for Luka Modrić, this debut counted as a resounding success.

No goals. No assists. But his seamless chemistry with Li Ang and his balanced contribution on both ends of the pitch earned him rave reviews from Spanish media the next day.

After finishing this delayed La Liga Round 4 match (rescheduled due to the Super Cup), Madrid had no time to rest.

Three days later, they would kick off their Champions League campaign.

This season, their group included Borussia Dortmund, Manchester City, and their old ”friend” Ajax.

Yes, Ajax again.

That made it three consecutive years of being drawn into the same group as Real Madrid.

At this point, the Dutch side’s coach and players didn’t even bother protesting to UEFA. What was the point?

No one could convince them this was just coincidence.

Even their official Twitter accounts had grown familiar with each other.

Ahead of the group stage, the Real Madrid Twitter account cheekily wished Ajax good luck, encouraging them to ”test Dortmund’s strength” first.

Ajax replied in kind, asking Madrid to ”go ahead and soften up Manchester City” for them.

Both sets of fans picked up the banter and ran with it.

Madrid’s goal was clearly to top the group, while Ajax just hoped to snag third place and drop into the Europa League.

That, at least, would bring in some revenue—and Ajax fans had gotten used to this annual ritual.

But while the Madrid–Ajax camaraderie was entertaining for neutrals, it was Manchester City who were feeling particularly irritated by all the pre-tournament friendliness.

Wait, hold on. One of you is gunning for first place in the group, and the other is confident about at least locking down third. So what then—we, the so-called new kings of the Premier League, are just supposed to quietly accept finishing fourth and going home?

Unconvinced and increasingly annoyed, Manchester City fans took to the internet in retaliation.

The City players themselves kept a low profile, avoiding any bold pre-match statements about their Champions League ambitions. But on the night of September 18, once both Real Madrid and Manchester City’s starting lineups were officially released, media outlets across Europe lit up with excitement.

City’s setup? It screamed defiance.

Lining up in a 4-1-4-1 formation at the Bernabéu of all places—what was that supposed to be?

Were they trying to give the reigning Champions League winners a lesson in midfield control?

One holding midfielder, two attacking central midfielders, and two wide men? You had to say it: that took guts.

Mourinho couldn’t help but laugh when he saw it. He didn’t even need to hype up his players anymore.

He already knew. For a match like this, especially one that invited counterattacks, his Real Madrid squad wouldn’t be lacking for motivation.

That night, as eight Champions League group stage matches kicked off simultaneously, the Madrid vs. City showdown saw its viewership explode.

Not just in Spain and England—East Asia, the Americas, all across the globe. UEFA’s executives watched the numbers with grins stretched ear to ear.

Did they care if Madrid suffered a shocking defeat? Or if City got absolutely wrecked?

Nope.

All they wanted at that moment was to shake Mancini’s hand and shout, ”Well played!”

This—this—was how football should be played.

Had City not shown up with such bold tactics, this opening match would never have pulled in such absurd numbers.

And on the pitch, the City players, emboldened and full of fight, pressed forward with fearless aggression.

To be fair, they had the personnel to do it.

David Silva, Nasri, Yaya Touré—those three in midfield alone gave them a legitimate technical edge.

Even though Madrid were in their standard 4-2-3-1, with a perfectly even midfield count, Mourinho decided to play it safe at first, stabilizing the defensive line.

Modrić, starting once again, dropped deeper to support in the defensive phase. Most of Madrid’s players looked calm and composed.

Especially Li Ang and Alonso, who teamed up to suffocate City’s central build-up. Time and again, they intercepted and pressed back City’s probing forays through the middle.

City’s four attacking midfielders, with the help of the dynamic Tevez, did move the ball with impressive fluidity.

But despite hovering near Madrid’s defensive third, repeatedly probing for an opening—they couldn’t break through.

By the ten-minute mark, nothing had changed.

City’s seemingly sharp attacks kept fizzling out on Madrid’s immovable midfield wall.

Meanwhile, Madrid themselves didn’t seem interested in attacking, content to drag things out in their own half.

The Bernabéu crowd started getting restless.

Sure, Real Madrid had played defensively before. But not like this. This wasn’t just cautious—it looked downright passive.

Some fans couldn’t figure out what Mourinho was planning. Old habits kicked in, and a smattering of boos began to rise from the stands.

Li Ang let out a helpless sigh the moment he heard the familiar jeers.

Really, there was no other club in the world like this.

What other set of fans would boo their own players just for playing a tactical, defensive start?

He was used to it—but that didn’t mean he liked it.

Shaking his head, Li Ang tuned out the noise and fully locked in on his defensive duties, tracking and pressuring City’s attacks.

Then came the 13th minute.

Modrić tracked back just in time to help Li Ang sandwich Silva in a double press. Silva, sensing danger, shifted the ball laterally into the middle.

But Alonso, reading the play perfectly, stepped up and intercepted—cutting the link between Silva and Tevez.

And that was the cue.

Madrid launched their counterattack.

Alonso looked up. Both wingers were still repositioning and not quite in space yet. So instead of a long ball, he passed to the onrushing Li Ang.

Silva immediately turned to chase. But Yaya Touré?

He should’ve been the one to step up.

He was already in position to block the run—Li Ang had no real path forward through the center.

But for whatever reason—hesitation, misjudgment, or overconfidence—Touré was a step slow.

That was all it took.

Li Ang surged forward, slipping between Touré and Barry with a sudden burst of pace.

And Barry? There was no way he could keep up.

Today, he’d been pushing higher alongside Touré to join the attack. Now he was left chasing shadows.

The only midfielder left deep was Javi García.

But Li Ang wasn’t interested in solo runs.

He spotted Ronaldo’s inside cut, the sudden change of direction as CR7 darted toward the half-space between Maicon and Kompany.

Without hesitation, Li Ang threaded a low through ball, slicing straight into Ronaldo’s path.

Ronaldo, as if launched by a catapult, burst forward. He easily left the aging Maicon behind, and just as Kompany rushed in to close the angle, he struck.

Bang!

From about 28 meters out, Ronaldo’s cannon of a right foot sent the ball rocketing toward goal.

England’s newly crowned ”number one keeper,” Joe Hart, froze.

His reaction was half a beat too slow.

He got a hand to it—but it wasn’t enough. The ball ricocheted off the inside of the far post and slammed into the net.

1–0, Real Madrid.

Nearly 80,000 fans at the Bernabéu erupted in unison, leaping to their feet with thunderous cheers.

Li Ang and Modrić both clutched their heads in disbelief.

Ronaldo turned to the cameras, first flexing his rock-hard quads, then laughing as he ran over to embrace Li Ang and Modrić.

Meanwhile, Mancini stood frozen on the sideline, an easy target for the broadcast cameras now zoomed in on his stunned expression.

And Mourinho?

Mourinho was roaring from the touchline, his voice practically slapping City across the face.

Oh?

So you call yourselves the new kings of the Premier League?

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Read 40 Chapters In Advance: /johanssen10